Dear Bobby...

We went to your service last Saturday. It was so surreal. I have to admit that until we arrived at the chapel there was a numb feeling of disbelief in my heart. I just knew that I’d see your number pop up on my cell phone and I’d sigh and tell you about the nightmare I had where you died. I’m sure you would’ve told me that my morbid ass would be the first to go so I shouldn’t worry about it.

Your family and many of your friends were at the service – Clent, Algernon, Slugger, Sara and Lorraine attended. Clent even brought Martin. Did you ever meet him? Well, BD didn’t come. I couldn’t have him see me all broke up like that. I was going to have you hang with BD this summer. Oh Bobby, he’s such a great man. You’d be happy for me; I’m sure of it!

When we filed into the chapel I stopped and stared at you in that coffin. I could hear myself breathe and I thought I would pass out. I wanted to touch you, but I was scared…that maybe if I touched you I wouldn’t hold it together – or worse, that I’d end up giving you one of those inappropriate coffin hugs that has folks pulling me off you. You didn’t look like yourself and it hurt my heart to think that as you deteriorated to that point I wasn’t there to hold your hand.

We sat about halfway back in the chapel – not by choice – your family is BIG Ms. Thing! Lorraine had been crying and sniffling a lot. She still remembers how you wouldn’t let Jazmin live down eating Eukanuba dog food when she was a toddler – even after she was all grown up and ready to graduate from high school! I wanted to comfort her, but I knew that it would only send me to an inconsolable place. Clent spoke first and he was the only speaker that really shook my core, since I felt he was speaking from a place of someone who knew you. I just felt that the other folks struggled to really find words to describe you. Lorraine reminded me not to leave anything unsaid and I walked up to the podium. My legs felt like lead and as I looked out into the crowd I didn’t feel afraid…I felt like a little kid that was being asked if I had broken mom’s vase. I told folks how we had fought and never had a chance to make up. I kept pausing to catch myself. A few times my face felt like it would betray me and contort, but I managed to keep it together. When I sat down your family and friends looked back and tried to reassure me that you would’ve been okay with me…I didn’t want to hear it. I know you and I would’ve cursed each other out something fierce, but we would’ve made up like we had throughout the previous 25 years . I did feel comfort in saying it out loud to folks….that they shouldn’t leave things unsaid…that tomorrow isn’t promised.

We went back to Bernadette’s house for the repasse and your folks really put their foot in that food; it was delicious. Your god brother Alvee was there. He kept running his mouth about how he brought you out to Better Days Night Club for your first gay outing. As he ran his trap, I drifted away to a time when you and I were at Better Days and I was too drunk to drive. We caught a cab to the Sheridan diner where I ordered a huge breakfast and you ate my breakfast and yours while I lay in your lap drooling. My eyes welled-up with tears and Alvee said, “Look at you gettin’ all teary-eyed thinkin’ about Bobby.” Your god brother is extra.

I guess the only thing I regret about the service is that I didn’t mention a few key things that I felt were so close to my heart that saying them out loud would’ve had me crumble in front of everyone…
…thank you for always protecting me when my bark was WAY tougher than my bite
…thank you for being my loyal best friend even when I stepped out on faith and hurt your feelings
…thank you for your advice and your mentorship early on…it really made me the man I am today

I know this letter is long and you would’ve said, “What is this bitch…a book?!” but I really miss you. I was laughing halfway into this letter just thinking how you would always give me that sarcastic stare and act like you were playing the violin when my stories went off the beat-and-path and took too long. You’d always say, “There’s a point right???” Well, there is. Periodically, I’m going to write you….and as much as it would probably piss you off, I’m going to post the letters right here in my blog. Yeah, what are you going to do about it Ms. Honey…I didn’t think so. I’m going to do this because I think about you everyday Bobby…probably always will.

Make sure you’re watching me from up there…I may need you to peer into my dreams every now and then to tell me what you’re thinking.

Love ya’

The Supreme Boricua; Sotomayor Is Obama's Pick

Okay, so maybe I’m biased, but President Obama’s nominee for Supreme Court Justice makes my heart swell with pride and conjures the same puffed-chest feeling African Americans felt when they watched Obama head for the Presidential homestretch. Sonia Sotomayor – Obama’s pick to replace outgoing Justice David Souter – is a Bronx-born (NYC) Puerto Rican woman who was raised in the South Bronx just a stone’s throw from Yankee Stadium. This Boricua swam upstream since birth – losing her dad early on, raised in single-mom home, going to Cardinal Spellman – a Catholic High School – before busting-down Princeton, then Yale Law. No slouch professionally, she served as an Assistant District Attorney in NYC under Robert Morgenthau. She even holds honorary degrees from from Lehman College, Princeton University, Brooklyn Law School, Pace University School of Law, Hofstra University and Northeastern University. It is a proud day for minorities across the board, but Puerto Ricans especially. Now let’s knock-out the confirmation process and add the spice the Supreme Court’s been missing.

On Blast
Stereotypical jokes abound; learning to laugh at yourself…When Obama appeared certain to win the Presidency, many joked that we’d add a basketball court to the White House lawn or maybe have 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue smellin’ like chitlins (chitterlings).
What stereotypical joke can you come up with to get a good cackle going during this festive occasion?

Keep passin’ the open windows…

Three WAS Company Too

One day after we laid our beloved Bobby to rest, Sara - who attended the services with us - posted pics she found when we all were enjoying great times together. There are over 25 years of life experiences and treasured memories Bobby and I shared...pictures can't do those moments justice. Thanks for sharing Sara...the pictures brought tearful smiles to my eyes AND my heart.

(My Bobby in red-center)

On Blast

Has anyone ever shared a picture with you that sent the emotional floodgates crashing open?

Keep passin' the open windows...

The Last Hoorah; Service For Bobby

Services for Bobby Sims are being held tomorrow, Saturday, May 23rd from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Powell Funeral Home in Amityville, Long Island. Driving directions from NYC to the funeral home above.

Powell Funeral Home
67 Broadway
Amityville, NY 11701

Robert Sims R.I.P.; The Skipped Exit Interview

At 16, I already had a year under my belt hanging out at the grown-folks clubs. It was during one of these party nights that I met Robert Sims – Bobby – and many of my other close life-long friends. Bobby looked at me with a crazy expression two years later and said, “You’re only 18?!” as I happily cut my birthday cake. Last night, just after 11pm, I received a call from another member of our crew who, fighting-back tears, informed me that Bobby passed away. Twenty four years of friendship and BAM!....he’s gone. I sat down, stood up, sat down again and fought back an emotional breakdown while I heard some of the details of the devastating tale of Bobby’s end. Bobby had been sick for over six months – in a wheelchair for five of those six months – and a hospice for a couple of months before passing on. I didn’t know this. I couldn’t know this. I wouldn’t know this. Why? Well, as long-term friends sometimes do, Bobby and I were fiercely opinionated and had a fall-out that rendered us officially on the “outs”. He refused to call me and apologize and I insisted he owed me an apology and would wait until he gave me one before we chummed-it up again. That moment never came. Bobby would take our petty feud to the grave and somehow leave me holding the bag…the guilt bag. Last night I lay awake for most the night having an exit interview with one of my best friends in the world. My ears filled with tears as I lay facing the ceiling and demanded he tell me HOW he could leave me without us making amends! WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME BOBBY?! I would’ve been there…I would’ve chased the gossipers away…I would’ve comforted you…I would’ve been your fierce protector…your comforter. The silence following my questions is deafening. Bobby and I had a friendship that defined who I am as a person…he taught me to be strong, to be witty and use my powers for good…and evil (LOL). Bobby was my good witch….my Glenda. Bobby was also the friend of our group who brought all others together. If any of us argued or fell-out, Bobby would be the go-between to make it all better. It’s no surprise that without him in that capacity during our tiff, we were left to come together on our own…a make-up that never happened. I can’t really share how devastating it feels not to be able to call my friend and say, “This is ridiculous boy….let’s make up you hateful bitch.” :::Insert laughter and threats from Bobby here::::: I just want a quick exit interview. It’s one of my toughest life lessons to date. Say what you mean…when you feel it…Mean what you say…Don’t wait…Nothing in life is guaranteed…..Nothing and no one last forever…My inner circle has been shattered. Bobby is the first of my tight-knit crew to die. I love you Bobby. I miss you Bobby. I wish I could just speak to you one last time and say, “Whatever it is we’re fighting about, it doesn’t matter….I forgive you…and I’m right” Yeah…we’d laugh…he’d say, “Do it again and see what happens…” That’s what I hear him say in my heart…that’s what I’ll hear until I see him again. I’ll never be the same. You skipped your exit interview Bobby. You owe me.

Keep passin’ the open windows…

R.I.P. Bobby; 'Til We Meet Again

There are just no words....

BD Holds Court; Birthday Brunch At Duke's

Yesterday, BD enjoyed a birthday brunch at Duke’s. The attendees included an intimate group of his close childhood friends, along with some of my closest buddies. Duke’s off of 19th Street and Park Avenue South is a down-home southern food restaurant that skimps on ambiance and delivers on family-feel. Once stuffed we hit Chi-Chiz in NYC’s West Village for 2-for-1 cocktails, games of cards and some crossed-eyed pool matches. A special thank-you to Maria, Basil, Sean, Glenn, Andrew, Herbie, Nancy, Slugger, Derrick and my pumpkin, Evelyn, for making this day such a fun-filled, memorable one! Here’s to building life-long memories one event at a time! Happy birthday baby!! Below are some pics of our day…

The Parent Trap

Life really is a full circle. When you’re a kid you admire your parents and look up to them. As you get older you think they don’t know much and figure-out that you can do things better – even outsmart them if you have to. When you’re finally a mature adult you recognize that your parent’s wisdom is invaluable. My parents arrived from Puerto Rico to visit me in the BIG Apple. Until 5/24 I will play host and try to sponge up as much of them, their love and all they have to offer. Last night my brother Carlos, my sister Evelyn, my sister Frances and I hung out with the folks at my crib. My mother says we all need to push away from the table…morsel of wisdom #1.


On Blast
Our time with our folks is limited. Whether your relationship with your parents has been a great one or one riddled with angst, do you recognize the importance of maintaining a healthy relationship with your folks?

Keep passin’ the open windows…

I Don’t Know Much, But I Know You Need An Open-Hand Slap

I don’t profess to know it all…shoot, I barely claim to know enough to keep my own relationship from crashing and burning, but I somehow do. I find it amazing that some of the folks that allege to have trouble meeting someone “special” or keeping the flaming embers of a romance burning are also the jack-asses that do some pretty irritating shit. My observations stem from people-watching while traveling to work or simply trying to get through a weekend without catching a case. If you see yourself in any of the following excerpts, there’s still time to change your ways…if not for yourself, please do it for those of us who are tempted to haul-off and kick you to the floor.

Energizer Trap: This person can’t seem to shut their mouth no matter what topic comes up and where they are. It seems like the only thing that is a sure thing is that they will progressively get louder; intensifying their tone and irritating a greater number of people. Strangely, they appear 1) oblivious to those around them 2) defensive about the dirty looks they consistently get from a public held back from kicking their ass by a mere thread of good judgment. ADVICE: Your partner wants to hear your thoughts, but give them a chance to respond and MOST important a moment to hear their own thoughts.

Techno-Of-Solace: This fool wonders why they haven’t been touched by someone in years, but they can’t keep their fingers off their QWERTY keyboard long enough to look up and see the beautiful person waiting to capture their heart. They have a Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, Blogger, Chat and Linked account, but haven’t had a decent date in centuries. See, technology is great, but some of us have lost sight that it isn’t everything. Nothing – NOTHING – nothing, compensates for a human voice, a skin-to-skin touch and the warmth of a smile. While I’m a technology user myself, I find that I disconnect to make time for my man and turn it off when we’re intimate to avoid any interruptions. ADVICE: Technology is the vehicle to get you there and not the destination itself. Don’t allow your vibrant years to be spent making love to a camera.

Anti-Reflector: Some folks appear to have an inability to see themselves – really see themselves – and determine whether they look presentable…notice I said presentable and not good? Invest in a full-length mirror and take the time – EVERY DAY – to look at yourself in that mirror. Both nude and clothed, you should thoroughly look at yourself for no less than 2 minutes each day – FRONT AND BACK – and ask, would I find ME attractive? If you have issues with how you look, what makes you think that others won’t. Adults are taught to be polite and not everyone is a Simon Cowell, so man-up and be prepared to give it to yourself straight. The nude reflection is to check what you need to work on physically and the clothed once-over is to insure you’re not leaving the house looking inappropriate, ridiculous or disheveled. ADVICE: Know that you won’t be attractive to everyone in the street, but give yourself a fair shake by being presentable to yourself on a daily basis.

Prude-ish Hookah: I’m consistently surprised at how times have changed – or maybe how I have changed – and how I don’t think it’s necessary to be such a prude in today’s day-and-age. What happens today will be ancient history tomorrow, so stop wondering whether folks will find some action of yours “out there”. Be forward and go for what you want. Things tend to escape us because we’re afraid of what others will think. Also, it’s 2009 and there isn’t one reason why folks can’t safely have intimacy on the first date or the fiftieth date. It’s all about what you FEEL, not what others – including the prospective suitor – will think. If there’s one thing I’ve learned is that you’ll, more often than not, regret the things you DIDN’T do, rather than those you did. Today your body is bangin’…yes bangin’…and you don’t have the good sense to recognize how wonderful that is. ADVICE: Enjoy that bangin’ body – SAFELY – and you’ll have plenty of time to Ziploc the koochie later in life when less folks want to take a “stab” at it.

There are plenty more pointers, but let’s start with these. Remember that a conclusion is simply where folks got tired of thinking.

On Blast
Keep it real…Can you identify with any of these? If so, which one?

Keep passin’ the open windows…

Because Whatever I’m Feeling…

There’s something about being with you that makes everything alright.
You make me smile with my heart and believe in a love not tied-down to romance. You’re my best friend, my road dog and the person I want to spend the rest of my days with. I celebrate you tonight because whatever I’m feeling, you have made my life such a wonderful place to live in. My signature theme of ‘Keep passin’ the open windows’ suddenly seems to be moot…you block that window. You make my world a place I love to be in. Thank you for giving me a beautiful today. I promise you my best tomorrows.

On Blast
Do you remember who you were dating when you first heard Tony Terry’s When I’m With You? Does the song conjure new feelings or a new meaning for you today?

Keep passin’ the open windows…

Para Colmo De Males

It isn’t a contradiction. I’m saddened and relieved. Just as easily as he came into my life, Bruce is gone. About a week ago I confided to BD that I may have bitten off more than I could chew. Bruce is enormous and everything I could want in a puppy, but I was finding that I had less energy and time to dedicate to him. Rather than feeling stress melting away by having him, I felt pangs of guilt for not spending every waking moment with him. Ultimately, I did what I’ve always done when matters seemed too complicated to handle on my own. I gave it to the Lord. Seems lame huh? Well, the truth is, for as much a heathen as I appear, I actually trust the Lord to always do what’s best – even when I don’t have the good sense to make the best decisions. I placed a free classified ad selling Bruce and my stipulations for the sale. I told BD that if the Lord intended that he be gone, the sale would be fast and painless. Today, I got a call at my office from a buyer and he was anxious to see my boy. After contacting my vet, he agreed to stop-over and take a look at him tonight. One look and he insisted he wanted to purchase him on the spot. I was up-front – the dog will be large; the dog has a lot of energy; he’s been spoiled; there is NO return of the dog (I cannot suffer the emotional break more than once); All said, they wanted Bruce. With heart in hand, I packed up all of Bruce’s things and watched Bruce loaded into the man’s SUV. His wife and I shared some pleasantries and she promised to share photos of Bruce with me in the future. She even squeezed my shoulder and said, “You’re going to make me cry.” It was then that I realized that I had tears streaming down my face. I quickly brushed them off and said, “Take care of my baby. He’s a good boy.” With that, I turned and ran back into my apartment. It’s so quiet. Busta laid quietly by my bed. It’s almost like we awoke from a long dream and Bruce was part of that dream. Para colmo de males (to make matters worse) I feel a strange relief; A sense that I did the right thing for both Bruce and me. That relief stirred feelings of guilt. How could I feel relieved that my baby is gone?

On Blast
Would you say my sense of relief is centered on my doing the right thing OR from knowing that somehow the transaction to see Bruce gone happened so swiftly?

Keep passin’ the open windows…

I Know Him So Well

Man In the Mirror

These days I’m really disappointed with the man in the mirror. Issues ranging from poor decision making; disregard for my health; and lack of holding myself to a place of priority have all conspired to take my self esteem down a few notches. Let’s start with the poor decision making…Bruce is now a 5-month old, rambunctious Weimaraner. For those of you who don’t know about dogs, Weimaraners are one of the largest of the hunting dogs and they possess an enormous amount of strength, energy and will. Bruce is normal – for purposes of discussing a puppy hunting dog of this size – but I didn’t do enough homework to realize that I am not quite the outdoorsman I initially thought I was. Long story short, the fucking dog is driving me bananas. He is a ball of energy – inside and outside the home; he hunts my Miniature Schnauzer Busta (who is 10-years old!) and he is smart, but strong willed; making him a chore to train. Thankfully, he’s housebroken – albeit a few pee-pee accidents here-and-there. All to say, I think I want to sell the baby while he’s still a baby, rather than wait until I’m letting someone enjoy the fruit of my labor and efforts when he’s a trained adult. A part of me feels guilty and ashamed that I’m failing at this, but the logical side of me screams, “Cut and run now before you invest more time and effort into it!” I’ll keep everyone posted on what I ultimately decide. The second major disappointment is my complete disregard for my health. Since August of last year, I have been waddling down the path of poor eating and no exercise. The new regimen has taken my 5’7” frame from a solid-and-bangin’ 150 lbs. to a whopping 175 lbs. I feel uncomfortable in my clothing and very self conscious naked. Since I pay for an upscale gym membership, I wonder what possible excuse I have for this disaster. Shoot, I even quit smoking in January, so I should be in better health right? Not a chance! The gym starts this weekend, period! The final glimpse at the man in the mirror has revealed my desire to give 100% to my relationship while isolating myself from my friends. My focus is BD and the Minnie – and no one else! What could possibly be the problem with this you ask? Well, here’s what my thinking was…Whether I want to do something or like to do something is secondary to whether my man wants to do something or likes to do something. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, until the pendulum of equal compromise and giving swings awkwardly in one direction and I’m left to feel that my giving is not reciprocated. The kicker is, I can’t really call him selfish…I mean, can we call someone selfish if they simply choose not to act and give of themselves in the same way we choose to do? There’s no pity party here… no one put a gun to my head to force me to do anything. Well, I brought my feelings to BD’s attention – Communication is key, right? – and the reaction was one of defense and diffuse. To be honest, he seemed downright insulted that I could feel this way and bring it to his attention. So who’s fault is it – you’ve got it – the man in the mirror! You see, when you’re thinking of blaming others and pointing fingers – even when you’re posturing to make some accusations – take a trip to that mirror and look really closely. You may find that almost all of your issues where brought about or facilitated by the man staring back’atcha.

On Blast
Failure or experience; When you don’t make the best choices, do you solve them and see the incidents as failures or simply as experiences?

Keep passin’ the open windows…

Set-up Your Sprinkler and Stand Back

The proverbial green grass on the other side of the fence is green for a reason – someone’s watering it. The truth is, the grass may not even be green because the grass’ owner personally takes care of it – he may recruit a third-party vendor to stop-in and take care of his grass. All to say, that looks are deceiving. I mean, crab grass is green too right? I was thinking of how many people look at my life and I at the lives of others, thinking that somehow I – or they – have it better. The truth is we don’t know the mechanics of anyone’s existence. As multiple studies have proven, material wealth doesn’t guarantee happiness. We’ve all seen the poverty-stricken family that appear happy as larks, while wealthy members of society that can’t even bring themselves to smile. I’m taking a page from the book of life that rewards LIVING life in a way that makes me feel fulfilled and minimizes my chances at regrets. I’m appreciating what I’ve earned. My health, my family, my relationship, my job, etc. are not promised. I make my grass greener by insuring it is watered. I will do the things that make me happy; I will spend time with people who enrich my soul; I will take advantage of things that pleasure my body and I will challenge my mind to remain open to new ideas. Appearances are deceiving and wouldn’t it be devastating to find out that after all your envy, your neighbor reveals he actually has Astroturf?

On Blast
Tell of one time that you believed you were looking at your neighbors healthy, beautifully growing grass only to find out their grass was artificial.

Keep passin’ the open windows…

My Boyz; The Update

On Blast
Joy and pain; Can pets really lower your blood pressure or cause a stroke?

Keep passin' the open windows...

Silly Isn't It?

Silly isn’t it?
How important are the people in our lives?
As I look at the folks I considered so important to my everyday…
Today, the cast of characters is virtually a new one.
So many of the people we profess to be in our ride or die…have, well…died
I realize and live by the reason-season-lifetime rule, but damn…
Silly isn’t it?
We don’t really KNOW-KNOW who those lifetime folks will really be…well, until we realize they’re still standing there…by our side
I sometimes drift into a soft warm smile…tears well-up in my eyes…remembering the friends…the ones who probably would be here if they could…but they can’t
Silly isn’t it?
How a milestone birthday will have you getting mushy and shit?
Silly isn’t it?
How you’ll force yourself to have those flashback moments that only happen when you face your mortality…the proverbial near-miss that has you reminiscing
I’m officially missing the memories left behind by those that played such an important role in my life.
I’m officially missing the me at previous stages in my life
Silly isn’t it?
I’m officially missing me

On Blast
Have you ever missed you?

Keep passin' the open windows...

The Sliver of Wax

You know how folks will say that they’re burning the candle at both ends? Well, I’m concluding that they fail to mention what that little sliver of wax between those two burning wicks represents. I’m here to school you kids….it represents patience. That’s right; with all that I have going on and the limited hours of sleep I am down for each night, I have a scant amount of patience. I’m afraid I’m not myself; not enjoying my life to the fullest; not being the best partner, friend and parent that I could be. I’m easily irritated by small talk; am often sidetracked by the tiniest distraction and when my head finally hits the pillow, I’m virtually drooling. I have to find some normalcy. I’ve started this process with moving Bruce’s crate from my bedroom – the proverbial move of the baby to his own room – and trying to get in bed each night before midnight. Now it’s time to take the bull by the horns. I need some decent, consistent and deep rest and I need daily exercise. So, here’s my prayer for contentment and my fear that if it doesn’t come soon the sliver will be gone.

On Blast
What is an acceptable timeframe between regenerating and refreshing battery-charging vacations; is there a smart way to gauge when it’s time?

Keep passin’ the open windows…

All Praise Be to Oprah

Me and Clay Aiken - Invisible

Luckily my self-esteem can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’, but I continually notice that folks fail to recognize my assistance in their appreciative remarks regarding anything. Now, I’m not talking about some special post or novel preface to give your boy his props, I’m talking about when they have a moment to thank folks – verbally or in writing – I’m not part of the included thank-you. What is even more ironic is that I’m usually the person asked to edit the document that lacks the mention. I started to think that maybe the problem isn’t in their failure to mention me, but in my inability to say, ‘Fuck you bruh…I’m busy and don’t want to use MY time to proofread your shit. Please have the folks you send-up praises for to invest their time in your projects.’ So, rather than complain, it’s time to take responsibility for my actions. Put-up or shut-up. Be warned…if it doesn’t occur to you that I should be thanked along with the graceless goons who grace your list of appreciations, don’t think of me to write, edit or tweak your projects.

On Blast
This is the year…Katherine Hepburn told Redbook, “Never explain, never complain…” Our time is precious and investing ANY of it in people who don’t appreciate it is pointless.
Who is unworthy of your precious time?

Keep passin’ the open windows…

27 Years Later; JHS Revisited

Last night, 27 years after we met, three junior high school friends and I met in the city to juggle our memories and walk down memory lane. To imagine that we all met in a homeroom in the Bronx close to three decades ago and felt so relaxed catching up was truly a blessing and a testament to true friendship. Everyone had a story of their own road traveled and each story was as heartwarming as the next. Marilyn – is now married has two beautiful boys and though she works in NYC, lives in the far suburbs of New Jersey; Ivelisse – strong, career-minded and determined is ready to meet Mr. Right; David – married, has two wonderful girls and just completed his second BA, this one in Spanish. We promised to get together again very soon and bring along our families. We vowed to not let two decades fly by!

On Blast
Facebook facilitated our coming together; what friend(s) do you wish you could reconnect with, but can’t seem to find them?

Keep passin’ the open windows