How to Avoid Love: A User’s Guide

I have become an expert at masking feelings, not showing all of my cards, or just not having an ounce of emotion flowing through my veins. In sports it’s a good thing – “that boy has ice water flowing through his veins;” in relationships, uh, not so much. Let me preface this article by stating that I am not a SME [subject matter expert for non-corporate types] nor have I ever slept at a Holiday Inn proving that I’ve gained some universal knowledge about the subject. I just simply like to think out loud and capture that shit in a blog.

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I’ve noticed through various exploits and other accidental mishaps that I’ve become a stone of a man. Maybe it was all of the Jägermeister I drank, drunk, consumed throughout my life but somehow I seem to have become devoid of feeling. Now I don’t mean feelings for my kids or my mama don’t creep up every now and again, but feelings that are expected in relationships. Don’t get me wrong – I want to have these feelings percolating through my being but they just don’t seem to be happening. Therefore, I thought it best if I just prescribe how I deal in hopes of providing some kind of guide to the other misguided and disenfranchised men out there in dating land. NOTE: in the words of the great Jimmy V, “don’t ever give up, don’t ever give up,” (even though it might appear that I have by writing this column).

The Guide

  1. Avoid prolonged and unnecessary eye contact when out on a date. She’ll give you those puppy dog eyes and next thing you know you’ll be buying rounds for the whole got-damn bar!
  2. Do not engage in small talk after work. I get it. You’re tired, you wish you had someone to talk to. You want to be heard. But, don’t give in. It’s better to stay silent and go into listening mode rather than engage in the fact that your co-worker is an ass and it’s getting on your last nerve.
  3. Ignore compliments – even though they feel reeeaaaalllll good. Let’s face it men, we’re like women in this way in that we want to hear how good we look, how strong we are, or how well we screw. Those are all compliments that get the best of us. And before long you’ll have a hoop through your nose while being strung along like a pregnant mule. But hey, if you’re happy about that I’m not one to judge.
  4. Say stupid shit. Like this blog. And you’ll be sure to avoid any possibility of love seeping into your heart and you being captured like a wild boar. Image result for roasting boar cartoon Roasting over a flame. In the middle of a jungle. Lost.  Damn, that imagery just sucks.
  5. Never, and I mean never, bring your kids around. God knows, she’ll do some nice stuff, the kids will be impressed, then you’ll hear about her for a long time to come. Better to keep the kids guessing.
  6. Get a job! Shit, any job. Three jobs. Stay busy. If you just do that you’ll stay lonely like a mutha. (Just buy a lot of those magazines like The Source or Smut.)
  7. Follow the relationship advice of our male compadres. We don’t usually fare well in this arena so it would only make sense that you’d listen to the gibberish coming out of the mouth of your bro; because your bro is so knowledgeable about sport’s and statistics it makes sense he knows about the opposite sex.
  8. And finally, don’t be such a mama’s boy. How can you turn your back on a woman you damn near fell in love with if your mama says, “so-and-so is such a nice girl?” Before you know it you’ll be saying “yes, dear” for many years to come.

And finally, follow Steve Martin’s “Lonely Guy” for further advice.

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Go well and with non-love good peeps.

An Unexpected Intersection of Love

Man, I was a brother down on his luck with love. Shit was horrendous. I couldn’t maintain a relationship to save my soul. If there was a time to SMDH this was it. Fucking women. Fucking life. I swear, I was hating it all as the story goes.

And then she showed up.

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It should have been a bad time to meet because my mood sucked and I felt I would bring her down. I was feeling funky and unlucky and didn’t give any fawks! But there I was waiting for this imagined goddess who would turn out to be connected to me like my angel twin – literally sent from the heavens to intersect with my life when it most counted. And trust me, she did.

My kids had been giving me the flux all day before they were to go back to their mama’s home. I, being the decent fellow I have always been, didn’t mind “watching” their assess from time-to-time so she could take care of her shit, but this time I wasn’t having it. My plans appeared to be thwarted for the night as this wrinkle was presented to me by the Ex. My first inclination was to tell her to screw off; but I didn’t. Thus, I was doing my daddy duties when I said “yes.” Needless to say she was a tad late in picking them up. I wanted to curse her ass out but I thought, “what about the kids?”

Then my piece-of-shit-car didn’t want to start in these frigid temps. I tell myself day after day I’m moving from this cesspool of a city – the cold, the crime, the cops – the triple C’s of destruction. But I can never pull the trigger because my heart is bigger than my brain. I persevere as I need to but not without proper bitching.

After a fellow citizen decided to act like Mother Teresa I got rolling. I figured a good meeting place for my online match was somewhere warm yet accessible and safe for all. I’m not a fricking Dexter but no telling these days of the women a man might meet. I saw the movie I married an Ax Murderer so I wasn’t taking any chances. Besides, I had a couple of extra dollars because a brother just got paid! I gotta take advantage of these moments because they seem less and less frequent these days. Shit sucks.

I sat at a quaint table near the bar that faced the door. I realized I wasn’t being very chivalrous during this courting period but it was cold as Hell! I threw out the dating etiquette book and ordered myself a Scotch on the rocks to calm my nerves. I eyed the other patrons around me to familiarize myself with my environment in case a MF’er decided to go postal in the joint. But it was all good. So I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more – after a few more Scotch on the rocks.

I swear by the time she walked into the place I was just getting up to put on my coat and leave. I was angry that she would have the audacity to treat me like this; we spoke a few times prior and the conversation was good so why would she be so disrespectful? She approached me as I stood there eyeing her up and down. I admitted to myself she was fine as anything my eyes have seen although I was still upset about her seemingly lackadaisical approach to this date.

But then it happened – she spoke to me.

Each word that came forth from her luscious lips was carried by the most beautiful songbird I imagined. My heart melted as she neutralized my anger and she proceeded to gently blot it up with her metaphors and loving innuendos.

Within the first five minutes of our new relationship I muttered the words I think I love you.

 

Things My Dad Never Did

Recently I experienced some venom targeted my way and luckily I dodged it by my wit. It was nothing major, just the same ole “people-only-know-you-by-what-you-post” kind of nonsense. While some of what we post reveals a little about our personalities it is necessary to take a deeper dive into our lives to truly understand who we are as individuals…and as a society.

Thus, I started thinking about who I am and compared it to how I was raised. However, parents for people of my generation, especially our fathers, did not have the same things to contend with during their days of parenting. Society has changed so much that the norms of today may appear foreign for an entire generation. God only knows what the norms will be a generation from now.

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And so I decided to write some notes to capture the spirit of my thoughts. These notes detail some of the things my father never dealt with as he and my mother (in the same household no less) raised me and my siblings:

  1. Texting – the closest thing to my dad having used a text message back in the day was…NOTHING! I guess you can’t really call smoke-signals coming from his angry head as texting but that was pretty close. Usually his voice could carry across the neighborhood to grab my attention. While texting is very useful these days it doesn’t give much in the way of tone UNLESS I TYPE IN CAPS or use Emoticons. (When did this become a word? When it showed up in Wikipedia?)
  2. Working from Home – Many of today’s businesses are allowing folks to WFH. Keep in mind, it might appear to be for the benefit of the employee but not-so-fast…I’m using up my electricity with the air blasting, I don’t engage in water cooler conversations (unless it’s FB beef – see # 6 below), and I have to make my own lunch. Argh, the struggles I endure.
  3. Be a Stay at Home Dad – There were only a few men who actually admitted to being stay-at-home-dads back in the day. It’s commendable so don’t get it twisted, it just wasn’t practiced nor was it embraced. I do welcome the time I am allowed to hang with my kids while they struggle in the comforts of luxury and modern technology. #privilegedlivesthesedays
  4. Take a Selfie – Colin Powell admitted he was the first to take a self-proclaimed-selfie with a Polaroid (see picture above) and I can’t even imagine my dad (or other dads) doing such an act. The times have changed – and I’m certain the egos have not.
  5. Deal with petty shit – Did I ever see my father deal with petty shit? Not to my knowledge. Usually he would say something grumpy or down right indignant and leave it there. No room for pettiness in the old world. #pettypatty #politicalcorrectness
  6. Get into an internet (or public) IG, FB, TWITTER, beef – There were probably some good brawls that I was never privy to as a kid. But I can respect a good ass kicking every so often, up to a certain age. But nowadays you get into sissy-like confrontations hiding behind a GUI screen while in the security of your home. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
  7. Get divorced – Granted, marriage ain’t for everyone, nor can every couple stand the test of time. My parents have been married for a gazillion years and they’ve made the best of it. Right, wrong, bad, or indifferent they committed like many others did and they worked through their differences. Nice job parental units. Good luck with this to my Gay and Lesbian fellow human beings.

These are just a few things that come to mind about how my life differs from my dad. Not saying it’s better or worse, it’s just…different.

Now ‘scuse me while I get into a beef about Hillary vs Trump. It’s funner this way.

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Go well and with love good peeps.

I Used to Love You…But I’m Good

I remember the exact moment when our eyes first gazed. I had beautiful thoughts of you run through my mind as my mind imagined “us.” I envisioned you and me in a foreign land laughing, talking, and foreseeing the future as one. I felt your presence in my spirit as our brief encounter seemed like an eternity. However, it was only brief as I was introduced to you, but I remember the feeling well – euphoric.

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As I made my acquaintance I remember the feeling of your skin as I reached for your hand. Because I am a renaissance man I chose to kiss your hand as a sign of respect as well as a chance to feel your silky smooth skin grace my lips while briefly catching the scent of your perfume for the day. What was that? Jean Paul Gaultier’s Classique? Or maybe it was your natural scent that danced around my nose and awakened me like a splash of cold water on a hot summer day.

I did not want to release your hand for I believed you would be mine. I wanted to run through the building with you in tow down to the fountains hidden behind the finely manicured greenery purposely placed to welcome in guest of the building. And I thought to myself “this is where we will have our first kiss.”

Your laugh and giggle tingled my spine as you sheepishly flirted with me while I gently released your hand. I glimpsed your bright smile and I was overcome with an emotion I had not felt before. The smile of a goddess right before my eyes. And if you had noticed, albeit a very brief nano-second, you would have seen how I lost my cool, calm, and collective demeanor all because of your smile. I nearly melted away.

We exchanged meaningless pleasantries as we both tried to contain the obvious metaphysical connection we were experiencing – hoping not to expose our true feelings to one another. But the bystanders knew because of the energy we shared created an aura around us like a firefly at night. You and I had forgotten we were among friends as the world seemed to stop for the moment as we took in every detail of one another.

And as I walked away I knew. I just knew. That someday we would be in an embrace sharing our vows and professing our love for each other to the world. As the sun is inevitable to rise our path to love would bear just as true. We would never love another the way we fell in love that day.

But I’m good now. And I’m over you now. And I release you from my spirit.

Go well and with love good peeps.

End of the World Series: Chivalry Just Died

And now, for something completely different…did you hear about the old lady that couldn’t open the door and the young man who walked in before her? Yep, neither did I because the old lady is still waiting by the door.

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And so it begins the dismantling of our civilization.

A recent study (Chivalry is dead) claims to prove that acts of chivalry are nothing more than sexism in wolf’s clothing.

WTF?? Wayaminute. Hold up. Wacha’ talkin’ bout Willis?

Before I completely crushed this report I thought I should take a moment and understand where it was coming from. And frankly, the good doctor might be onto something (or on something). And it does seem to be a lost art in terms of the acts of Chivalry.

In today’s competitive landscape, the denigration of social norms, and explosion of divorce our society is taking a turn for the worse when it comes to holding onto antiquated traditions. Equality is something to strive for but where do we draw the line to separate the grey when good manner’s stray into manipulative behavior? Or is there any way to distinguish the two?

I have been an old school individual for all my life. I enjoy opening doors, paying for dates, fixing light bulbs, etc. But I recognize the conundrum created because of these acts. What if a woman thinks I’m only opening the door to “check her out?” What if I expect the woman to pay for her own meal while on a date? Why can’t a woman change her own tire? These are the things that can take this conversation from kindness to sexist in mere seconds.

If women want to be equal – and again they should be – then they should experience partaking in those small dilemmas that are mostly attributed to men. And if women want to be equal then they should pay for a date occasionally or propose to a man. Is there really anything wrong with forcing our women’s hands to get dirty by doing the dirty work?

But I am a fairly kind individual and I still believe in kindness and chivalry. I feel good when I can be of good service for a woman. It makes me feel valuable at times when I fix a tire of a damsel in distress. (Yes, I know that sounds sexist.) I appreciate a woman that can cook like my mother. Apparently, these gestures I do are making me out to a benevolent sexist according to the report. Should I accept this behavior as such or refute it?

Conversations such as these make me long for the days when I was a child. My toughest decisions were deciding on which park to play in or whether to use my bat and ball or my friend’s for the cross-neighborhood baseball game. I only worried about getting home as the street lights came on and wondered what mama cooked for dinner. I was afraid of catching cooties from the cutie next door but I recognized how butterflies grew in my stomach as I spoke to her. There was no thought of sexism, racism, hatrism, or any other ism. My thoughts felt pure and life felt grand.

Go well and with love good peeps.

How Do You Decide?

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Choices, choices and more choices surrounded by decisions, decisions, and more decisions amidst a complicated landscape of relationships. My mind is overwhelmed as my time is limited yet the thought of sharing and giving remains an innate part of my overall being. Thus, the desire to connect in some type of way (apparently I’m feeling some type of way) is continually vying for my attention and demanding I take action. All actions will result in reactions.

Therefore, how do I decide?

Relationships are a mutha; let alone our relationships with our kids, parents, siblings, friends, etc. Yet, our makeup as human beings relies heavily on our ability to create relationships and sustain them. When you think about it – it is a very selfish act. The intended result is to satisfy the bubbling need to connect which is within all of us. Of course, you are free to live a nomadic or reclusive life and rid yourself of any true human connection.

Most of us don’t want to be reclusive – or alone. Therefore, we find ways in which we connect through church, extracurricular activities, and other social functions. Upon connecting we develop and nurture a relationship with another individual hoping for great things to come. And ultimately we sustain a long lasting relationship in which we can look back over time and proudly reflect on the journey it took to achieve that pinnacle. I imagine a Gandhi like figure sitting atop the mountain overlooking a serene and beautiful valley while mind, body, and spirit are one with God.

But before I become so Gandhi-like, I still need to decide, make a choice; take action as it relates to engaging in a meaningful relationship.

So here’s where I become creative and design a process (I know, it’s so “business” talk).

  1. Be deliberate in my actions and desires. This method is very Neanderthal-like; I knock you on the head with my club, throw you over my shoulder, and wander off into the sunset heading for my cave. A bit outdated (and quite illegal) but the intended result is achieved.
  2. I sit back and wait for a line to form as women anticipate meeting me… (crickets, crickets) Yeah, this has a very low probability for success but nonetheless, it’s an option.
  3. I can always let the chips fall as they may. There is absolutely no control in this method and I leave it all to the “universe” to guide me. What happens if the universe says “No RELATIONSHIP for you!?” (In my Nazi Soup Kitchen voice.)
  4. I can devise a very scientific approach to understanding the landscape of choices and then act on those choices very methodically. Oh, wait, eHarmony and Match.com have the patent on this method.
  5. Pray my way into a relationship. Somehow, I see this as very similar to #3 above, but this “universe” is a true serving God. However, other complications can be debated with this method (religious beliefs, science, etc.)

Finally, as I sit back and think about these methods to become engaged in a relationship the fog clears from my head and I listen to the voice directing me – be still my child. I come to the realization that I can’t force the magic of a relationship but I should anticipate its ability to be present when I least expect it. During this time my focus becomes inward as I rid myself of the skeletons and complexities I’ve created to become a renewed man. This I can live with.

Go well and with love good peeps.

I am an A-N-G-R-Y Black Man

…as was told to me by an unreliable source but I went with it.

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My first response was, “What? I’m Black?” Well I sure wish I was informed that about 50 years ago. Oh yeah, wait, I was reminded of my Blackish [shameless plug for the new series on ABC] ways since I can remember. Yes I was told of my black roots from my loving and adoring parents, while being reminded of my inheritance through reparations from my black brothers and sisters, and then down to the non-Black folks that marveled at my athleticism and ability to dance like Carlton.

So I suppose I was aware of my being black. But was I angry?

I set out to understand whether the statement rang true for me or was it merely poppycock?

Side note: when was the last time you can remember a black man using poppycock in a sentence? I digress.

  • I have been surrounded by negative news of police brutality in recent weeks and I have been beyond disappointed.
  • The news surrounding black on black crime has made me despair for the future of my own kids and the impacts of our collective neighborhoods have on their lives.
  • I sit and ponder the fate of black men previously held in high-regard only to have sins of the past take them to new fates – and my heart is shattered.
  • I think of my own childhood and my desire to assimilate only to be called out of my name by my own brethren and I feel betrayed. Et tu Brute?
  • I relive in my mind promotions eluding me and my frustration levels mount because I merely want my offspring to enjoy the abundant fruits of my labor – but my cupboards are empty.
  • And finally, my experiencing first-hand the evils of divorce and the impact it has on my family, my friends, and my community and I become greatly unsettled.

But still I’m not as angry as I felt I should be. Where is the anger people notice within me?

Upon resuming my analysis of my life disappointments and shattered dreams I came up with this:

A – Always

N – Negate

G – Gross

R – Representations of

Y – You!

I finally discovered how I have been perceived and what it means! My light bulb moment came in the middle of the night as I was tossing and turning wondering where my agitation was coming from. I went through my mind yesterday’s debates and other uncomfortable disagreements where the last straw was bashing the character of others. And this did, in fact make me ANGRY.

But my emotion of anger was not misguided but on point. It was defending who I am as a human being. Others may become angry for various reasons but their anger is just as valid as mine. We are all humans and demand the respect as such. Thus, I came to the point that I will not accept a view of myself that is not in line with my own truths. Basically, this translates to “I don’t give a *bleep* what you might think because I know who I am.”

On the surface this might sound angry but in truth is not. It is standing up for my beliefs. And I trust each of you will do the same.

Go well and with love good peeps.