Continued Ups and Downs

This morning I woke up from a restless three hour sleep to see her standing in the doorway. She stood very silent and relaxed as if she had been wrapped up in my arms all night. But she was not….my arms remained as empty as the place in my head she normally occupies. And she just stood there…knowing I missed her…knowing I was wondering where she had been…knowing that she had left me with my demons….knowing I HATE the feeling of NOT knowing. But she just stood there, with a look on her face that expected me to get out of bed and embrace her.

Now, some would say I’m soft. But, I’m not…I’m stubborn. I know we can work. And I honestly cannot picture my life…where we don’t work. I know there is something about me she likes…something she needs. Why else would she keep coming back?

So…I walked up to her, placed my lips on her forehead, and whispered, “Look…baby…I know I’ve been working a lot on the house lately. And yes…when I went out with my boys last week…I admit…I chose to check them instead of staying home with you. And then there’s my job…well…that’s a whole ’nother monster I don’t even wanna get into. But, you know me better than anyone else…so, you have to understand….I have certain responsibilities now...and expectations to live up to. I have not been neglecting you…in fact, I’ve been bustin’ my @ss everyday just so we can be together…without any restrictions or worrying about how the gas bill will get paid or where we’re gonna live next month. And listen…just because I’m not here 24/7 doesn’t automatically mean I’m not thinking about you or that I forgot about you. Come on now…that don’t even sound right.”

She stood in the doorway, unconvinced…so I continued.

“What? You really think that I’ve forgotten about you? Lemme tell you a lil’ somethin’. I walk out of this house everyday with two thoughts in my head. One…I wish I didn’t have to leave you. Two…I can’t wait to see you when I get back home. And for you to stand there like, “Oh Chris, you’ve been neglecting me.” absolutely blows my mind. Lemme ask you this…how in the hell can I forget about you when just about everything I come in contact with reminds me of you? I see you in magazines, billboards, television, clothing….everywhere. I’m not playin’! When I was out with _______ and _______ last week, at the end of the night I was sittin’ by myself at the station, waiting for the last train, half drunk, eating a steak n’ cheese. While I sat on the bench I looked through the open roof to a pale orange moon set in a dark violet backdrop. By itself it was nothing. But combined with the complementary hues in the architecture, the lighting on a nearby brick building, the miscellaneous late night faces who would stumble past, and the eerie calm you get when 95 percent of the city’s population is fast asleep…it was like a surreal movie played in slow motion. I thought all that it needed was a soundtrack. Something like...”You got me”, by the Roots. And why does sitting drunk at a train station have me thinking of you? Because YOU were the one who showed me how to see all those things! You taught me how to see beauty in the ordinary! Now, I can’t go anywhere without seeing a reminder of you! But when I get home to share this…and build something from it…you’re out…you’re not here.”

She remained emotionless…so I proceeded to erupt.

“Oh, and that just means absolutely nothin’ to you, right?! Maybe if you showed a little bit more discretion over who you spent your time with, me tellin’ you some heart-felt sh*t would actually mean somethin’ to you…and you wouldn’t just stand there like my name was Theodore Nobody! You must really think I’m stupid. Yeah, I saw you!!! Yeah, Miss Slick Sh*t…YOU!!! I’ve been seein’ you…runnin’ with those little corny dudes!!! Yeah, that’s right…all posted up on his arm, making his tight Armarni shirt wearin’ @ss look like a lucky punk. I SAW YOU!!! Look do you really think I need you? Do you really think that this door won’t close, lock, and leave you outside with Joe Wack and his misconceptions of what hot is? You of all people know my name. And at the end of the day…it’s just me. And you are no exception to that rule. And don’t think you’re being slick by sittin’ up in my face and sayin’ “Yeah, so I was with him.” because…I know about the women, too. Yeah, the women. How can I not? You’ve been everywhere! I even saw you on the internet. My man pointed out a couple of sites…so I took me a look. And there you were…and it was obvious that you had been makin’ them losers you’ve been hangin’ with start to feel themselves a little…givin’ MY sh*t away to total strangers!!! And here I am working for us…lookin’ like a chump. How…do you think…that makes me feel?!! I said… how do YOU think that makes ME feel!?!! HOW THE F*CK DO YOU THINK THAT MAKES ME FEEL!?!!!!!!”

She threw her hands in my face and turned towards the street…so out of desperation I threw my words around her waist.

“All right…look, look, look, look, look, look …LOOK!!! All right, come on, slow down. Look, just let me tell you how that makes me feel….then you can go. I need you to understand this, just this one thing…then you can just do whatever. Just listen to me. When I see you with other people…I feel like…well…like that could be me. I see the expressions of sanctity on their faces and the way they walk…as if they were part of some exclusive club for the enlightened. And the sight of them feels like little pins sticking into my soul because at one time…that was me…walking with you as if I were emancipated. And what hurts the most is if I didn’t have all this bullsh*t going on…that could be me…again…that could be us. Listen...remember when we first met? I couldn’t have been more than 8 years old…riding in the car with my Dad to Providence. Of all places, I saw you off the expressway, under an overpass…do you remember what colors you were wearing? No? You were draped in shades of red and gold…looking like a young sighting of the Madonna. Blessing a forgotten landscape and giving people in despair a glimpse of hope. As we entered the city I saw you again at a corner store, again at the bus stop, and then again at my father’s building…each time more breathtaking than the next. Yeah, that’s when I nervously picked up a marker and asked you to be a part of my life…you looked at my amateurish scribble, blushed, and said “Yes”. We spent a lot of time together back then, didn’t we? Yeah, those were good times…“sigh”….I don’t know how things got so f*cked up. Well…yeah I do…I got f*cked up. Me and this “I can juggle heaven and earth” attitude while being blindfolded with machismo. That’s why I didn’t see you fall to the ground. But that’s my shortcoming, that’s my fault…I don’t want you to leave me for it. I want to apologize for neglecting you, I want you to trust me, and I want you to see that you are the motivation for everything I do.”

Her icy stare softened, so I drew closer and put her hands in mine.

“Look…I don’t want to come off as sounding corny or cliché…but I know that this is not the first time a man has expressed himself to a woman, so I might be repeating something my father said at one time to my mother …or something I’ve seen in a movie. But let me assure you, the source of my words is real. I want you to know that…without you…I am nothing. Without you…my world is a grimy concrete bed, blanketed by cold grey drizzle in a night that never ends. Without you…all I can see is the equivalent of a bread and water diet, never questioning anything’s meaning, purpose, or possible alternative on the menu. Without you…all of my accomplishments will become the object of misdirected blame and resentment as they get discarded along with all of my future dreams, hopes and ambitions for happiness. Without you…my soul is one blunt and empty over-proof bottle away from being back at that train station, except the Roots would now be replaced by John Lee Hooker’s “Burning Hell” as every train that passes by adds one year to my life. Without you…I simply would have had no reason to get out of bed this morning...or open my eyes. Without you...I might as well have been born blind. So for all those reasons…and more…I need you. Without you…I cannot be Chris. In fact, without you…I don’t know who I’d be. And…that scares me. Listen…I need you. For all the things you've helped me see...you have to see that in my eyes. Without you…I am nothi….”

She stopped me with a soft kiss...

And once again I started to see the beauty in things.

Ups and Downs

“Love can either fill your world with joy….or completely tear it apart.”

I’ve been saying this for a minute. But here’s a different thought.

Whether it is art, literature, music, or philosophy I’ve often compared the creative process to love. In fact, in my life, the creative process has been the most meaningful relationship that I’ve ever had. She holds the power to make me feel like no other person, drink, or drug ever could. When she treats me well I feel like an extension of God’s hand. She shows me how to see through the blankness and amaze myself. But when she leaves...my happiness, confidence, and optimism leaves with her. I just wander the city as if I were a homeless person...head down…talking to God…hoping I’ll find salvation. Hoping I’ll find her before it's too late.

She is my passion….and doing anything without passion is my equivalent of Hell.

I need her…

I need her today.

The kiss of death?

Yeah, this is gonna seem like a vain post.

Over the years I’ve watched several ex-girlfriends make really bad decisions with their lives. It’s to the point that as soon as one of us utters the words, “It’s over” I almost immediately expect to get a crazed late night call talking about…I just slapped my boss…or…then the officer asked me, “If it isn’t yours what was it doing under your seat?”…or…I’m pregnant, but he loves crack more than he does me. It’s like this person that I never knew was there suddenly comes out. So, stories like these don’t even surprise me anymore and I’m starting to think that every one of my relationships should start with a warning that upon break up there is a very good chance that life could start spiraling downward. Great selling point, eh?

Well, I was watching TV last night and I was surprised to see the smile of my ex-ex-ex-ex girlfriend make a brief appearance in a local commercial. After the initial shock was over I was happy knowing that it was a direction in life she had always wanted. And if she really gets successful, combined with a few other ex success stories, it just might balance things out and prove to the world that there really is life after Chris. Until then, I'll be busy putting together a report of post break up statistics and drafting a wavier.

I went out last night...

...with my man, Money (who I now call, Slick Talk) and Agent B. (aka Big Vex, B the @sskicker, or the Automatic Acrobatic) to see a sneak preview of The Bourne Supremacy.

The best part about seeing this movie is I can now throw around the words, “sneak preview”. When I say things like, “Oh yeah….I saw the sneak preview” or "I was at the sneak preview last night" that gives people the impression that I’m a social dynamo/paladin as they picture me walking into an exclusive restaurant with an exotic giggling beauty on my arm…gliding through the back kitchen while giving my patented “How ya doin’” to the chef …as his Italian accent assures me that he has something special prepared for the young lady.

Yup, that was the best part of seeing this movie. If it wasn't for that I would have punched the screen. And even though the tickets were complimentary for everybody at the event....I'd still demand to be refunded $9.75.

Happy Birthday, Mamma!

I’m terrible with birthdays. I’d forget my own if it wasn’t printed on my driver’s license. When I was twelve I forgot my Mother’s birthday and didn’t remember until I sauntered in the house at 9pm and saw her in the kitchen cutting the cake she had bought for herself. Oh, THAT didn’t feel good. At that point saying, “Oh, right…..Happy Birthday, Mom” really didn’t make it a more festive occasion. And I knew she was hurt, but instead of showing it she just cut me a piece of cake and told me there was milk in the fridge. THAT felt even worse! It was the worst cake I ever ate in my life and it wasn’t because I didn’t love chocolate. So, ever since that terrible day I’ve always paid special attention to her birthday, Mother’s Day, and Valentines Day and made sure I’m on point. Well, my Mom’s b-day passed this weekend and thanks to several notes to myself, including one on my arm in black magic marker, I was ready.

I asked my Mom, “Hey, would you like to go to this new restaurant I heard about in Providence? Its all-you-can-eat Lobster.”

“No.”, she replied in an unenthused tone.

“Ok, how about I scoop you and Dad up and bring you into town for a show? Lion King's here.”

Again, she simply replied, “No.”

After several other rejected suggestions I got frustrated and said, “O.k., well I’m coming down to see you that day so if you’re not home I’ll be waiting on the porch….and if it starts to rain I’m gonna break in through the garage.”

She gave a soft laugh and said, “Your Father will be home, but I get off work at nine.”

(My Mother is a borderline shoppaholic and values every minute of overtime she can get.)

When 9pm came around I was waiting at my Mother’s house with a card, a photo album all wrapped up with a bow, one dozen red roses, one bouquet of mixed flowers, and a carrot cake. I did everything besides rent a clown, after all, my Mother has me. When she arrived home she walked through the door with a surprised look and a big smile took over her face.

It’s like this almost every year….this “I don’t want you to do anything” game that we play. And it’s very clear to me that my Mother and I are both equally stubborn. In fact, my stubbornness comes from her.

Go my pretty snakes! Go and do my evil bidding!

Even though I have beef with my next door neighbor, Snitchie, I don’t let my dislike for the man affect the way I treat his kids. He has a boy and a girl, both under twelve, and they are very well-mannered, smart, and respectful for the most part.

Yesterday, I was doing some yard work and saw the boy playing basketball in his yard without a shirt.

I called out to him, “Hey, put those muscles away. You’re making me look like the ten year old.”

He laughed, came up to the fence and said, “Um, Mr. Chris, I think you have a snake in your garage.” (It’s funny, they call me Mr. Chris in real life.)

“Yeah, I’m sure I have a few in there. Probably some up in the bushes too.”, I responded.

His eyes widened and he screamed, “There’s more?!”

“Well yeah, its summertime and those little garden snakes are everywhere. You probably got some over there too.”

“No! No we don’t! We don’t have any snakes in our yard!”

“Okaaaaaaay then, I guess all the snakes just live in my yard.”

“Well, when you see them could you put them in your trash can or something? I found some snake skin over here and we don’t want to get bit by any of your snakes.”

I assured him that if I saw any snakes I would properly dispose of them and then I thought to myself, “Did this little guy just run up on me to complain about snakes migrating from my yard into his?”

Yup.

Sounds exactly like his father.

Urban Obstacle Course

Today, I hopped on the train strapped with my gym bag and laptop. Since I’m not one of those people who feels justified taking up two spaces, I slid the laptop under my seat, put the gym bag between my legs, and pulled out a magazine. I started reading a Money magazine article about families of active U.S. Reservists. I became so absorbed with the financial difficulty that these families were facing that I didn’t realize that I was already at my stop. Reactively, I jumped up, dodged incoming commuters, and slipped onto the platform. Just as the doors closed behind me I turned with my gym bag and magazine and realized that I had left my $3700 state-of-the-art laptop under the seat. F*ck….

As the train pulled away I stood there for a second thinking about my options. One. Go into work and explain I lost my computer and need to buy another one…preferably by the end of the day. Two. Save myself the hassle of dealing with my boss and accounting department by replacing the computer out of my own pocket. Three. Retrieve my computer before anyone helps themselves to a $3700 gift that they’ll probably turn around and sell for $500 by meeting the train at the next stop….six blocks away.

Now this would have been the perfect opportunity to use some of those superpowers I’m always talking about. But the reality is….I don’t have any. So, I strapped my gymbag across my chest and started an all-out, O.J. Simpson Hertz commercial sprint for the next station. The subway stairs, commuters, intersections, and other urban obstacles all became a complete blur as all I could think about was shelling out 4 g’s of my hard earned cash. Four near collisions and one cramped-up hamstring later I made it to the next station where I slid through the turnstile and touched three stairs on a fifty step decent. Thanks to the train delays that I’m always complaining about I just made the closing doors. Breathing very heavily, I looked through the crowd of wide-eyed passengers and towards my former seat. There was my computer, sitting right where I left it. Thank God! I quickly claimed it and sat down to catch my breath and I realized that even if I didn’t make it to the stop, I probably still would have got my computer back. The funny way the seated passengers looked at me said one thing. We live in a day and age where people are very hesitant to touch a black case that’s been left unattended on the train.

Stay at home...lock up the children!

With the Democratic National Convention right around the corner the city has been buzzing with predictions of the problems that this event will bring. With major highways, train stations, city blocks, and business being shut down to the general public for security reasons there has been talk of commuter delays for people like myself that work within the city. Officials have said that this event dwarfs any other event that Boston has ever seen, including the 4th of July celebration and the SuperBowl. On top of that, our police force has decided to strike over not having a contract, significantly reducing the number of officers the city can dedicate to the safety of this event. All the while the media has been painting a picture of a week filled with people being stranded at work for days or meeting their fate by being trampled under crazy mobs of confused commuters. And with the reduced police force the talk radio elite have been broadcasting several possible terrorist scenarios and even going as far as giving out step-by-step instructions in which someone would be able to carry one of these plans out. (Yeah, real smart move...Chuckles.) Over the past month everyone has been bombarded with sound clips of people and public officials saying things like, “It’s gonna be hell.”, “I’m staying locked-up in my basement all week”, and “It only takes one person with Small Pox to kill millions! We’re not ready for that!!!” Even our mayor made a public announcement saying that if you work in the city you should take the week of the DNC off. This just added gasoline to the fire.
 
I think back to four years ago. December 31, 1999 at 11:45pm to be exact. I was living with my ex-girlfriend at the time and we were hosting a New Year’s Eve party. While everyone was getting sauced, I was nervously peeking out the window and thinking I should have copped a pistol in case one of my ill prepared neighbors decided that they desperately needed to rush my three month supply of canned goods, bottled water, batteries, and other Y2K survival supplies. I stayed at the window, looking out over the block through the countdown and the few uneasy minutes afterward. At 12:05am I was relieved to find out that I wouldn’t have to go through a Dawn of the Dead scene, franticly boarding up windows, or licking off shots in the dark. My life was back to normal and the only negative thing that occurred from the Y2K scare was that I ended up having Chef Boy Ardee for lunch for three months.
 
So, these days I tend to be a little bit more laid back about warnings of public chaos and the general breakdown of civilization. While I’m sure the DNC will bring some public confusion, the chance of a possible terrorist threat, and other inconveniences ...I’m still planning on working that week. And as for being stuck on a delayed train for several hours or being trampled into a bloody pulp by wing-tips and high heels…I’m not too worried about that either. After all, the Chocolate Thunder Boy Wonder can fly.
 
I thought you knew…

If I ruled the world...

we would happily welcome all Asian businesses into the hood…..under one condition….no bullet proof glass, speakerboxes, or safety deposit slots. If you don’t trust us enough to take our money, you don’t trust us enough to keep our money.

I’m cursed when it comes to waiting in lines.

Seriously. I don’t know why, but every 3 out of 5 lines I get into there ends up being a problem that causes a delay. I could be behind one person at a hot dog stand and for some reason a brew-ha-ha would pop-off and keep me from eating for at least fifteen minutes. One of my ancestors must have been a line-cutter or something and now all his offspring have to live with this curse. It’s uncanny. My friends have even taken notice, leaving me to do a lot of my shopping alone. If I were to do a statistical table of the problems I see while waiting in lines it would look like this:

• Price check with an unresponsive department representative. 7%
  
• Cashier having to call manager because they do not have any ones. 5%
  
• Customer with lack of funds or 3rd party check that needs 6 approvals. 5%
  
• Customer with claims of a sale sign that no one else can seem to find. 10%
  
• Customer with $50 worth of merchandise and $30 dollars to spend asking for the balance after each item is rung in. 20%
  
• Argument between cashier and customer over 75 cents. 10%
  
• Physical confrontation between cashier and customer over the same 75 cents. 2%
  
• Customer arguing with cashier and manager because, Skrimps, Daiquiri mix, and chocolate edible body lotion cannot be purchased with food stamps. 40%
  
• Customer pulls out a weapon and demands the drawer and a carton of Newports. 1%

Well, that’s the boulder I've been blessed to haul around with me for the rest off my life. So when the woman in front of me starts screaming and the people behind me start to groan I turn around and say, “I’m sorry, this is really my fault…… I’m cursed.”

I just can't win with this lady.

A while back I told you about my straight-faced coworker and how she can never tell when I’m joking around. Our conversations normally end up with two straight-faced people staring at each other in an awkward moment of silence…and me wishing I had never told the joke in the first place.

Well yesterday, I was talking with my straight-faced coworker and the receptionist at the front desk. My straight-faced coworker had asked me if the doctor had diagnosed the problem with my legs yet. Me being the stubborn bastard I am, I told her, “No…. but I’m suspecting the problem is being caused by one of my bitter ex-girlfriends who has started practicing voodoo.” Her eyes twinkled and through a crack in her chiseled features a smile made an appearance followed by a giggle. Yes!

*crowd cheering wildly*

Then she said, “Yes Chris, I can definitely see that.” and continued laughing as she walked down the hall.

I stood there and the receptionist asked me, “Did she just diss you?”

I looked at her and said, “Um…. I’m not sure.”

******

On a side note, I never really understood the concept of White girls who rock extensions. I mean, bustin' out colors and everything. There must be someone in their family willing to pull them aside and say, "Um...Susie, you really look like an idiot."

Recipe for a bad mood.

3 hours of sleep
2 tons of work, office work and manual labor
2 legs, throbbing, in constant pain
0 patience for incompetence, dependency, ignorance, general stupidity
1 short fuse
1 realization ….“The only person you can ever expect to solve the problems you’ll face in life is yourself.”

First take your work and separate the office from the manual labor. Dress the office work with a tie and the manual labor with a toolbelt. Combine the office work with the 0 patience and 1 short fuse and let stew for 50 hours or until it comes to a boil. Then mix the manual labor with the 2 legs and let simmer on a medium flame for 20-30 hrs. Once both mixtures are done combine on the same plate and sprinkle with the hours of sleep. Best served with realization.

Here’s a theory I’ve been working on…

This is based on my experiences and experiences of the people I know on a personal level.

“Women hold the power to get a man anytime she wants, while men hold the power to keep a woman as long as he wants. And both men and women seem to want the power that the other has.”

First, take a night out on the town at the local meat market for the “grown and sexy”. I believe the average woman has the power to be approached by several gentlemen, get to know a select few, and possibly get intimate with one. The power is so great that this process can happen all in a few days or all in the same night. I am confident in saying that if a woman chooses to do this she holds the power to consistently do it anytime she wants. Most women I know inherently look for relationships so they do not use this power to its full potential.

Now take the average guy in the same club. He got his best gear on, hair’s tight, got his “smell-good” on….he’s on the hunt. He has the power to possibly meet two out of the seventy-three women he approaches, maybe get a number from one, and if he’s on his best behavior for a couple of weeks she might break him off a little piece. And the chances of this all happening in the same night are slim to none. Now we’ve all had certain “experiences” where this has happened, but it’s definitely not on a consistent basis…and not anytime a guy wants. So I’m just being real. Overall most dudes do not have the power to meet many women at their discretion, never-mind find physical companionship, and are happy to leave the club having just planted a seed.

Ok, let’s say the average girl and the average guy, meet, hook-up, and down the line start a monogamous relationship.

It is now the average guy who has the power to keep this relationship as long as he chooses. As long as he keeps watering the seed that he originally planted the relationship can grow over a lifetime…..even after he’s eff’ed up. With issues like domestic abuse and infidelity with a sibling as an exception to this rule I believe that this power to keep a relationship alive supersedes being caught in a lie and messing around. I know that the ladies are saying, “Hell no, I’d leave his @ss!!!!” Yeah, well you’re another exception to the rule, but overall I’ve seen these issues become more of an obstacle or “bump in the road” than an actual deal breaker. And on top of this most men I know are inherently hunters, and even when they are in a relationship with a woman who is beautiful both inside and out those instincts kick back in. I don’t know why it happens, but it does. In turn, most men I know do not use the power of keeping a relationship alive to its full potential.

Now on the other side, I’ve seen average women in relationships and how much in love they can be with a dude. So in love that they will treat them better than his own mother did. All other men become transparent, flirtation is no longer welcome, an invisible engagement ring starts to materialize, and her man is the only person who doesn’t hear the word “no” on a daily basis. But, when the foundation for the relationship becomes unstable (mainly due to man regaining his hunter’s instincts) they do not have the power to keep this relationship alive. She can be more open with her love, more experimental with her body, more generous with her money, more tolerant of his flaws, more forgiving of his mistakes, more submissive to his complaints….but once a man decides to stop watering the seed all the woman is doing is buying time until the relationship ultimately ends. I also don’t know why this happens, but it does. Overall most women I know do not have the power to keep a relationship alive no matter how much of herself she gives to a man.

To be fair, I may be talking about one type of relationship and not all relationships in general. But, if I am to admit this it would also be fair to admit that this one type of relationship is in the majority. And I’m not saying it's right or one power is more appealing than the other, but it’s a theory based on what I see.

If I ruled the world....

I'd make it totally acceptable to run up on someone else's kid and start slappin' the hell out of them. Now I'm not talkin' about getting all buck nutty with headlocks and kidney punches, but enough of a licking to exorcise the parasitic demon. And when that's done, you get to turn your attention on the parent(s).

*taking off belt*

In a nutshell.

1. I’d never thought I’d say this but….mantyhose are a godsend.
   
2. Here are two sentences that nobody likes to hear at the pharmacy:
   1. Sorry Mr. B------, your insurance doesn’t cover this.
   2. That will be eighty-five dollars.
   That’s when you start to consider holistic healing.
3. All one needs to do to build a 12 foot load-bearing wall is take one long holiday weekend and subtract all beer, beach, and BBQs from the equation.
   
4. I can’t believe I built this thing. Not only does this wall keep the kitchen on the second floor from crashing down on the first floor kitchen it is also strong enough to stop an invasion of blood thirsty barbarians with battering rams. There will be no pillaging at my house anytime soon. Especially after I set up the vat of hot oil on the roof.
5. When nightfall came my friends decided to pop-in for some grill n’ chill. I decided to stay in my bedroom and watch the Twilight Zone marathon on SciFi. They stayed long after the last firework fizzled out while I fizzled out before the fireworks.
   
6. The next morning I woke up to two trash bags full of discarded beer bottles left from their chill session. And their effort would have been impressive, if I hadn’t finished off a whole bag of chocolate chip cookies and a gallon of milk that same night. I guess we all have our weaknesses.
7. The Chocolate Thunder Boy Wonder saw an essential project in distress. His arch enemy Mister-Pass-Da-Buck had infected the project with his patented style of mismanagement. Through all of the panic and confusion the Chocolate One swooped down and put the project and everyone involved on his shoulders. He then turned heaven, earth, and his social life upside down to safely deliver the project to the scheduled deadline of July 1st. Thus, keeping someone else’s promise and possibly saving the jobs of a few slack-jawed on-lookers.
8. The following day Mister-Pass-Da-Buck sends the Chocolate One an “Oh, you did such a great job----our staff really appreciates you----you provided me with the comfort and flexibility” e-mail. Now, the Chocolate Thunder Boy Wonder is not above being bitter. In fact one of his weaknesses is that he holds a grudge with a death grip.
9. That same day the Chocolate One had a discussion with his boss and got clearance to sit Mister-Pass-Da-Buck down for “The Stern Straight-Faced Talk”. With that clearance he can now freely use his superpowers to counteract the feeling of bitterness without having his actions misinterpreted as being evil. *standing on desk with cape blowing in the office fan*
   
10. What’s the point of a credit card company offering 24-hour online payment options if they are going tell people that due to the holiday they cannot process a payment until Tuesday morning? I know certain stores close on holidays, but who closes their web site? At least a warning would have been nice. Come Tuesday, I better not see a late fee.
    
11. Why didn’t someone tell me Spiderman came out this weekend? Heated!!!

Bill's not laughin' anymore.

Have you seen or heard Bill Cosby lately?

He's publicly pointing out Black societal problems in a fashion that is similar to making people drop their pants and grab their ankles while he lets loose with the paddle. And alot of what he's saying I agree with 100%. Certain individuals need to hear it. Although, one part I am a little on the fence about is his choice to abandon subtlety and start taking heads. Career wise it is so out of character for him to do or say anything even remotely shocking. Since I've known him, it's just never been his forte. Sure in the past he has spoke on several social issues...but this time his words sound angry and frustrated. Now, I say "his words sound" because I've only read his words, so I think that this contributes to my uncertainty. If I heard him speak I'd probably see his intentions more clearly. Is he just ranting? Or is he using his exemplary talent for communication combined with these bold statements to effectively reach the Black community? He's a smart man, and a personal hero, so until I hear the audio I'm going to assume the latter. Either way, the man is projecting conviction and I'm interested in seeing where that conviction will take him.

If the Jetsons had only kept their promise.

My father works at an auto dealership and one of his responsibilities is to act as a liaison between the dealership’s clients and the insurance agencies. Many of the clients my father works with he never meets directly but takes care of their needs over the phone. There was this one client that was constantly having problems with his insurance agency, so over the course of two months he and my father would speak almost everyday. Over that time they bonded over the mutual problems that they encountered while trying to work with this agency. They joked, laughed and became familiar with each other. And when they found out that they both enjoyed deep sea fishing they even made tentative plans to go out on the client’s boat down the Cape. Well about a week ago, the client had called my father to resolve a problem and once again they started trashing this insurance company. And my father said, “Yeah, they’re really screw-ups over there. They couldn’t find their way out of a dark closet.” The client laughed and replied, “Yeah, Bill…that’s so true. They’re all Black you know.”

Oh my….

If the Jetson’s had only kept their visionary promise of an affordable videophone for the office this revelation of character would have never happened.

And when he told me this story of course I asked if I could come along on the fishing trip.

Well, the doctors are stumped.

One of the best medical networks in the country and they can’t figure out why this shining example of the male species has been hobbling around like a tortured gimp that just found his way out of the basement. Heart’s ok, so are the liver and kidneys, and no infectious diseases. (Got kinda shook over that one.) Still everything below my knees is swollen. So my doctor recommended that I wear leg compressors to help move the fluid and I take a diuretic for a while.

So this weekend, Chris is gonna be rockin’ some “special hosiery” at the cookout while taking a pill that is supposed to make him pee.

Lucky for me, I’m comfortable with my masculinity.

Maybe I’ll ask my doctor if I can at least replace the pill with beer.

p.s. I'm not automatically assuming people don't know what the word diuretic means, but my @ss had to look it up and I know I wasn't the only one who didn't see it on the SAT's.