Saturday, February 27, 2010
"That tiger didn't go crazy. That tiger went tiger!" - Chris Rock
The Honest Man is NOT an animal lover. While I loves me some Charlie Brown & Snoopy, the closest I will ever get to owning a dog is the one I see on Animal Planet. Which brings me to today's post. By now, you have heard about the killer whale that killed her trainer. The reasons have ranged from maybe the trainer was too close to whale and that triggered something to the whale having a temporary relapse and snapping. Seriously? Is this what the whale said? Or is this what the psychologist determined after cross examining the whale? I wonder if the thought occurred that's it's a KILLER WHALE!!!
I don't understand man's fascination with trying to tame wild animals. There is no 100% guarantee that the animal will not turn on its' master. Animal lovers will come at me with the "but more times than naught" line, citing that 99% of the time, if you train them, they will follow. That's bullshit because there's the 1% that says Scruffy is going to bite your hand. I'm a 100% man. If you can't guarantee that animal isn't gonna turn on me, then don't bother bringing that wild animal into my kingdom.
If you need more proof, think about these past attacks. The Siegfried & Roy incident. The Crocodile Hunter. That dumbass in Harlem. Either they were training animals or trying to get close to animals. In all cases, the animals are wild. And yet these incidents don't set off the imaginary light bulb above the animal lovers head that says "Hey maybe I should rethink that whole strategy of trying to tame Bubbles."
And for my non-White readers that are going to play the race card and say these are stupid things that White people do, then you need to check yourself. The Harlem incident was a black dude. It's not a race thing people, it's a stupid people thing. Stupid people trying to domesticate animals that are known for chasing gazelles down or swallowing seals whole. I mean if a domesticated animal like a dog will bite your hand or a cat might scratch you with his claws, what makes you think that a killer whale would not smack you upside the head with her fin?
If you want wild animals, then turn on Animal Planet. Kinda how we say to ugly cats that try to get with dime pieces, you want to stay in your lane. Otherwise, as my man Chris Rock said I won't be saying the Killer Whale went crazy, I'll be saying naw, the Whale went Whale!
Friday, February 26, 2010
"....I missed the bus, and that is somethin I will never ever do again" - Kris Kross, I missed the bus
Yep the Honest Man took it there. I quoted Kris Kross. And what's sadder is that I didn't even quote one of their popular songs. But you know the Honest Man, there's always a method to the madness. Strange as it sounds, that song popped into my head when I was thinking about today's post. Today's post is a continuation of my good times with my godparents. Earlier this week, I reminisced on my first exposure to chicken and waffles a la Houston. Today, it's a Welcome to Houston Charlie Brown type story...
Let's rewind a few weeks before the Roscoe's incident. It's still 1996. It's still Houston. And it's still hot as hell in the summer time there. When my godparents agreed to let me stay with them, I made an assumption that I would be able to use their cars freely. I opted to leave my car in South Carolina off that assumption (and the fact my lazy ass did not want to drive that distance). When I got there, they immediately told me that while I can drive their cars, I have to fill it up every time I take it out. That included if they gave the car to me with like 2 gallons left in the tank. Sounds like bullshit right? Well their house, their rules so I wasn't trippin' too hard. Plus read the Roscoe's post. I had no reasons to buck on the car rule.
Another thing they told me too was while I had use of the car, that was for after work and weekends. For getting to and from work, my mode of transportation was going to be Metro. As in the bus. My godfather rode that thing all the time to downtown Houston for work and believed that was the way for me too. Now that caught me off guard. I at least thought I was getting rides to and from work. So as a delaying tactic, I asked him if he could take me to work and pick me up in the car, so I could see the route and get comfortable first. He was like sure, no problem. Little did I know he was plotting something in his mind.
First day of the internship goes great. I get taken to work in my godfather's car. I get my own office (side note, you don't know how gassed my ego was to see my name outside of an office). I meet the folks on the team. I get taken out to an expensive lunch by my assigned mentor. I meet the other interns in the building. Shit's going great right? I'm in in corporate negro heaven as the day winds down.
I'm leaving for the day, get to the lobby, and my godfather's sitting on the couch. I'm like wow, first class service, he didn't wait in the car, he came inside to greet me. He's like "you ready" and I'm going sure. We get outside and I go "where's the car?" He responds "Car? I didn't drive, I took the bus here to pick you up. You said you needed to get comfortable riding the bus, so I said ok I'll ride the bus home with him." Do you know this man had me walk 3-4 blocks to the bus stop and we took the bus home?? Straight craziness right there....
Be careful what you asked for. I wanted comfort and my godfather accommodated. From that day moving forward, I rode the bus to and from work every day. Rain or shine, I was a bus riding, people talking, shirt and tie wearing, music listening on the bus, switching buses son of a gun. Now I couldn't really complain b/c they did give me free room and board plus meals. But you try riding Houston METRO in the summertime and then tell me I wasn't hardcore.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Gucci Mane - Lemonade
Saturday, February 20, 2010
It's been a rough week readers. My godmother passed away this past Sunday after a decade long battle with Alzheimer's and years of complications from diabetes. She joined her husband, my godfather in a better place (He passed away from cancer in 2001). I don't know a lot of folks who had close relationships with their godparents but mine was a special bond. They literally told my mom before I was born that they were going to be my godparents. Not asked by but told to my parents. Think about that. I have mad love for them. Treated me like I was their own son. They would do dope shit like send me a big ass box of toys every year for Christmas. EVERY. YEAR.
So as you can imagine when you lose a loved one, you have your down moments. I've lost a lot of close people to me and one way I cope is trying to remember a funny story about them. That's my medicine to somewhat ease the pain. As I was leaving the funeral, I started to recall a funny story with my godparents.
1996. Houston. Summer Intern. My godparents hooked me up that summer and allowed me to stay with them rent free. All they asked was that I pay for my long distance calls. No utilities, no cable, just my cover for long distance calls. See why I love them :-)? Anyway, I was spoiled rotten that summer. My godmother would have breakfast ready every morning before I left for work and dinner ready when I walked in the door. You keeping tabs? Rent free, Bill free sans long distance calls, and hot meals. EVERY. DAY.
One day my godmother asked me had I ever had chicken and waffles. I'm like nope only heard about it from the West Coast rappers braggin' about Roscoe's all the time. So she told me that she was gonna cook that for dinner that night. Up until that point, I've never had that combo. But I was daydreaming in my office about that meal. Like I'm literally leaving work so I can DESTROY some chicken and waffles for dinner. Since my godmother usually makes everything from scratch, it was like destiny waiting to happen....
So I get home, walk in the door, and waiting to smell the normal aroma of my godmother's good cooking. When I walk in the kitchen, she's there and like dinner's almost ready. Literally, the toaster suddenly popped, scaring me slightly, and up pops Eggo waffles. Right there, that was a sign. I'm telling you it was like clockwork, my godfather walks in seconds later with a box of Popeye's. Eggos and Popeye's chicken does not equal what I envisioned as chicken and waffles. But that was my reality for dinner :-).
At the time I was blown about the letdown. But as time passed, I found great humor in that story. Considering everything that's happened, I think that's the great thing about life. Finding humor when things seem so blue. Rest in peace Larry & Mal, I love you guys!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
My man Pilot sent me this link. It's MSNBC's own Keith Olbermann (of ESPN Sportscenter fame) doing commentary on racial discrimination. 10 minutes of pure brilliance. I say brilliant because the race commentary came from a white man. A white man who's not radical, bizarre, a tree hugger, or any of those adjectives that are typically stitched to white men that speak out on behalf of racial inequalities.
Just insightful and good timing. I just hope the message is heard. And let the congregation say "CHUUUUUCH"
Sunday, February 14, 2010
"I got a letter from the government the other day, I opened, and read it, it said they were SUCKAS." Period. End of Story. Nuff Said.
Public Enemy - Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos
Friday, February 12, 2010
I realized in my previous Black History Month diatribes that I have failed to hit you with songs from the Honest Man's musical library. I decided I would "surprise" readers with an oldie but goodie. Perfect song to kick on the musical choices for the month :-)
Dead Mike - I'm black yo
Thursday, February 11, 2010
"I don't hate Balboa but I pity the fool" - Clubber Lang (Mr. T)
It’s Black History Month. Should the Honest Man write about a historical moment in black history? Yessir. Will it be about something meaningful and though provoking? No sir…well in my mind it is.
I’ve told you about my high school in past stories. Little antedotes about dealing with some dumb muthaphuckas from time to time. But not every moment of high school was a bad memory. In fact, I have overwhelmingly more positive memories of high school than negative. One particular memory I have is one time when my school decided to actually honor Black history month by having us studying key moments in black history. This was a big deal because of a student body that was like 250-300 kids total, only about 20-30 of us were black. Do the math Einstein…
For my class, we were 48 kids strong. 6 were black. Oddly enough 3 boys, 3 girls. One of the classes we took were religion class (it was a private catholic school). My religion teacher took Black History Month further, decided to educate us on history making things that blacks did in the past, and at the end of the month, we would take a quiz that reflected that material.
So you would think with the extra special attention, that all 6 of us would be motivated to learn and hopefully blow that quiz out right? Wrong. A few of us thought that we knew our black history and taking the quiz was a formality. Yea if that history included questions like who sat on the bus and who gave the I have a dream speech. When the quiz had questions like who invented the traffic light and who was the first heart surgeon in America, man bruhs were getting stumped.
We did the tally after the quizzes were turned. Turned out that only 2 of the 6 black people finished in the top 5 for highest score in the class. Again do the math Einstein. How can we complain as Chuck D said about “history shouldn’t be a mystery and HIS story” when we can’t even take our own history seriously?!?! It was a dark day in my mind for the black community in our high school. It’s Black History month and non-black kids no more about my history than I do. Mr T definitely pitied the fools that day.
I don't know who should be more ashamed. The black kids that finished behind the white kids or the black kids that did finish ahead and didn't prep the rest of the bunch. Considering the Honest Man was one of those 2, I put the onus on the 4 that finished behind. C'mon SON, what did you think I would say (shout out to Tight Tight for using the phrase C'mon SON) :-)
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
"Ah ha hus that fuss
Everybody move to the back of the bus
Do you wanna bump and slump with us
We the type of people make the club get crunk" - Outkast, Rosa Parks
Rosa Parks. Pioneer. Trailblazer. Symbol of the Civil Rights movement. Made it possible for black folks to ride the bus. Even got a song call out from my folk ‘Kast (even if she didn’t really appreciate it). And you probably thinking I’m bringing her up because it’s Black History Month and I want to shower you with memories of how the Honest Man as a youngsta stood up to white folks in his own lil world. WRONG readers, the Honest Man has a different take on the effects of Rosa Parks effect.
I’m half sleep when I see a cat come up and take the aisle seat on my row. Cue the Honest Man putting up his King mag and switching to Forbes (gotta maintain that image readers LOL). Dude didn’t see me when he was originally scoping out where he wanted to sit. But once he saw I was black, he had this awkward look on his face like if he got up and left, I would think he was racist and didn’t want to be near black people. Au contraire mon frair , what I was thinking was why in the hell would you want to share a row with someone, when you could take the completely row of in front of you for yourself. Please you not offending me if you want to take a different seat. But you are offending me when you put an end to my mini paradise. Now we got to share the row and shit, making dumb ass small talk, when all I wanna do is enjoy the moment of silence.
You can obviously infer from my comments that the dude was white. White folks, here is a message from the Honest Man. You are NOT offending us if you do not like your original seat. Stop thinking I’m gonna go into a nearby phone booth and turn into Angry Black Man, the hero who rocks the Malcolm X glasses and goes off on white people about tired of being oppressed and held down by the white man. Start thinking with common sense and asking yourself I wonder if he wants someone sitting next to him. Take a look around genius. Everyone’s got their own row, why can’t I have mine? Shit you get your own too. We all win, shoot’s it’s equal rights in my mind.
I don’t know how many times I’ve come across the above scenario on airplanes, buses, conversations, etc. Trust me, I’m not offended if you don’t wanna sit next to me. I’m annoyed though if I have to give up the thought of having a empty seat next to myself for an extended trip.
Martin Luther King’s not walking through that door. Huey P Newton’s not walking through that door. Jesse Jackson’s not walking through that door. But dammit if you keep up this shit, I’ll be walking through your door with a common sense bat to smack some fucking sense into you. History class is dismissed. Professor HM has spoken.
Monday, February 1, 2010
- Peyton Manning is a former Volunteer and I pull for my Vols
- Jim Caldwell is a bruh and I always pull for the black head coaches
- It would be great for the city's morale to have their 1st ever professional championship
- Robert Meachem is a former Volunteer and I....just read Colts #1 :-)