Thinkin 'Bout Thinkin

You Seem Happy?

August 10, 2023

The Usual

As I plop in my seat to join my son I ask, “Well what do you think?”

“Dad, quite frankly, you don’t at all seem happy.” I feel my heart sink

What’s there to be happy about?

Let’s see, I’ll list them out

Tough to be happy about my empty wallet

Tens of thousands in debt with a shabby closet

Child rearing is a constant battle

Controlling the toddlers while trying to convince the teenagers, it’s like herding cattle

Promotion isn’t happening as soon as I had hoped

When the pressure was on, my reports showcased that I choked

My spouse doesn’t respect me, not sure when they last did

They even stepped out on me…yup…on to someone else they slid

Am I letting life happen to me?

Is this preventing me from being happy?

I’m working to keep it all together

But my son can tell I’m filled with anger

I’m supposed to be the role model setting the example

But right now it’s mostly bad, not many good samples

I could be wrong though and might be providing my kids the lessons

They are watching me throughout their lifetime and not from a single session

It’s difficult to know that it’ll get better when you’re covered in mud

If the present were a firework, it wouldn’t let out much more than a thud

My dad says, “I know it’s hard right now, but you have to outlive it.”

That’s my goal now. To win my day-to-day and to not be conquered by it

Loans, babysitters, a mentor and divorce are potential solutions

Soon, I will be able to remove the waste and toxic pollution

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My Son to My Son

August 8, 2023

The Usual

When my oldest son was younger, I would read to him

His older sister was there too, It was lovely reading to her and him

I would pepper in my “adult reading” during this time

But Oh the Places You’ll Go was read to them all of the time

As a parent, there’s nothing better than to look up from your reading

To see that your kids have fallen asleep from your reading

I have a younger son now, ten years junior to the first

The older one sees the book that I started reading to him first

It’s bedtime and it’s time to read the younger son a book

The eldest one asks, “Can I, instead, read him this book?”

They both settle in and take in the different pages

I’m sitting back listening to the younger one absorb the older one’s voice reading those pages

The younger one is entranced and watches his older brother’s mouth move

I’m out of view, but continue listening trying my best not be too moved

My oldest son is reading to my youngest son and I’m tearing up

It’s like I’m watching my work from years prior finally catch up

Despite my concerns, maybe I did all right while raising my oldest son

Not knowing if what you’re doing actually works can be a parent’s concern, number one

The book finally closes and they both know it’s time for bed

The younger one curls up and sleeps with ambitious dreams in his head

The older puts the books away and on his face, a smile of accomplishment

As I lay my head down at night, I will always consider this moment as a God send

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Poisonous Blood

July 22, 2023

The Usual

The pain they have caused is fresh, and in some places still bleeding
Some good but mostly bad, but it’s their advice you go seeking

It’s difficult to not want to hear from them
Because you’re connected by blood and believe you owe it to them

You’re trying to live your life in peace and prosperity
But can the one who poisoned your waters bring you that clarity?

They’re providing you advice now but will turn on you at the drop of a hat
Deep down you know this and maybe it’s the curation of their habitat

Treasure can be found in the most desolate of places
The trick is getting in and out without leaving any traces

If you’ve come from that polluted place and make it out
Why go back seeking nuggets that you didn’t get when you were down and out with familiar faces?

They may very well have your best interest at heart
But how can they help you when they themselves don’t know where to start?

You have unwittingly consumed they’re poisonous doses
Then with foam at the mouth attacking those who are your closest

Blood may be thicker than water, but their blood may be poisoning your water
It’s difficult to know the difference when it’s father/son or mother/daughter

The example you were given for life is not the example you have to live
Be cognizant of the pollution provided because you don’t have to take what they want to give

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Different Flavor

June 9, 2023

The Usual

My person doesn’t seem to care of I trust them or not

It’s definitely hurtful when they are doing things with an untrustworthy plot

Since when did they become the villain within my story?

To do these things without any hint of the word “Sorry.”

Have they always been this person? Was I blinded by my own desires?

Sitting here in pain, thinking about all that has transpired

I know my worth, but why do I insist on staying?

Maybe I DON’T know my worth and shouldn’t listen to what others are saying

To jump ship, get on a lifeboat and get back to fishing

At this point, my heart is useless because my brain is not listening

Do I enjoy the pain of not being held high and held first?

Just to stick around in this and to not have the cup to quench THEIR thirst

It’s easy to say to leave when you’re on the outside

It can feel impossible to leave when considering what’s on the inside

I’ve been wronged before only to receive an apology years later

I’ve only tried to do right, this is the same situation but a different flavor

Maybe I’ve not grown comfortable with things being over

It really pains me to believe that it should be severed

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Love, Hope & Pain

June 1, 2023

The Usual

Does a certain amount of love cancel a certain amount of betrayal?

That no matter what they’ve done, love will overlook their fail

To have been disrespected and made a mockery of

Can any of it be deciphered through a degree of love?

A love that has the ability to transfer those wrongdoings

That leaves others who know questioning and assuming

Or be stolen from, disrespected, cheated on or lied to

Somehow the language of love can say, “It hurts, but I’ll help you push through.”

Because on the other side of love, there is hope

This is the other feeling that can help you cope

To love and hope for someone so much

That to others they believe you’ve completely lost touch

But this is your life and you decide how to hurt

Or how much pain that hope and love will allow to exert

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The Benefits of Living in Los Angeles

April 4, 2023

The Usual

                Living in Los Angeles for the last eighteen months has been filled with growth. Not too long ago, I wrote a post about my experiences while living here. That post centered mostly on the negative aspects. This time around, in an effort to be fair and balanced, I’m going to highlight the positive outcomes. Many of the positive outcomes are mental shifts that me and my family have had to make, but I can see them benefiting us after we leave. While some may consider the beaches, the shopping, and the sun an immediate positive, something deeper has taken shape.

                I have seen more Rolls-Royces, Bentleys, and Lamborghinis during my time here than at any other place I’ve lived. A couple miles north of where I live are multimillion dollar homes. In Redondo Beach, there’s a walking strip that goes for a few miles. As you walk the strip (dodging roller skaters) with the ocean to your right and multimillion-dollar homes to your left, inspiration begins to rise. Taking in the mansions one after another does something. You might begin to wonder about the amount of wealth and money that you are surrounded by. Being surrounded by these expensive items can either run you down or motivate you. Although you don’t know their story, seeing a Roll-Royce parked in front of a mansion on a regular basis can really become a motivator. Personally, it makes me look in the mirror or lie awake at night asking myself, “What can I do better?” This can be a slippery slope because if you ask yourself this question too much, you may begin to believe that you ARE NOT doing enough.

                This “Are you enough?” mindset can, oddly enough, can give birth to the entrepreneurial spirit. This spirit inspires you to pursue “side hustles”. For those that don’t know, a side hustle is something you pursue outside of your regular 9-5 for profit. For some, this could be washing cars, braiding hair or selling random merchandise online. A few months after getting settled here, my wife was invited to a Bar-B-Q. In typical fashion, I was encouraged to go to meet the other awkward husbands. My wife and I befriended the homeowners. My conversation with man of the house continued to peel back layers. He talked about how he came from a small town in East Texas and how he had to figure out how to bring in some extra income. He mentioned the well-known book “Rich Dad, Poor Dad” (which I still need to read) and went on to tell me about the different things he has sold. He then escorted me to a closet that was filled with everything from shoes, toys, electronics, and clothes. It was where he kept the items he put up for sale. Suddenly, he showed me how much he has made from reselling. It was in this moment I thought, to quote Leonardo DiCaprio from “Django Unchained”, “You had my curiosity. Now you have my attention.”

I have heard of folks selling different items from their house to make room, but not with the sole purpose of being a reseller. After the conversation ended, and we were headed home, I knew which items I needed to put up for sale. Since posting those items, I’ve had limited success, but success is success. The next option was services. Due to limited time, this option has been less successful, but has encouraged me to think about what I can offer. On the app NextDoor, I posted about car wash services. It was met with limited traction. My wife and I are brainstorming ways to start building a romantic brunch service. Starting side-hustles gets you comfortable with failure while celebrating success. Regardless of how small the venture may be, any form of success doesn’t only benefit you (and your self-esteem), but also your family’s financial situation. I have discovered a downside to having a side-hustle. As Dr. Suess said in his book, “Oh the Places You’ll Go”, “I’m sorry to say so, but sadly it’s true that bang-ups and hang-ups can happen to you.” And to further improvise this line, “What do you do when you’re so low that you’re actually in a lew?” The answer is….ASK FOR HELP!!!

                In conjunction with asking yourself, “What can I do better?” you may realize that you simply don’t have enough to get by and live here. The amount of money I’m forklifting to my ex-wife immediately places me on “Ask For Help Island”. I say “island” because that’s how it feels. The limited amount of money I end up with each month makes my wife the breadwinner. By a razor thin margin, we have been able to get by, but it isn’t the life I have wanted for my family. This place has backed me into a corner and has forced me to put my ego aside and to ask for help. I’m comfortable asking for life advice. I realize now that I’m not so comfortable with asking for financial help or advice. I will do everything I can before asking family for money. With different mouths to feed, I don’t have a choice but to ask. Thanks to my parents, I’ve been able to stay afloat. It almost feels like I’m living back at home with my parents. Jokes aside, this place has forced me to not only learn HOW to ask for help, but to be okay with ACCEPTING the help and blessings sent my way. I say blessings because I know that others may very well be in my position but aren’t afforded the family to receive assistance. When you become accustomed to seeing Bentleys and Rolls-Royces in traffic, you forget how low on the totem pole you are. You can’t help but feel humbled.

                On the way to dropping my kids off at daycare, I drive past the local yacht club. I get a look at the parking lot and it’s filled with high-end cars. I’m not seeing a 2014 Chevy Silverado, which is what I drive (but love all the same). These different scenarios will quickly remind you of the big players you’re walking amongst. Seeing these different visuals of wealth could motivate you, but it’s up to you to realize that you’re not suddenly going to be living next to the modern mansion with the different luxury cars parked out front. You can still dream though. That’s one of the few things in this state that can’t get taxed…along with hope, motivation, and determination. My stay in Los Angeles is temporary and has forever changed how I view money, opportunity, and time. New York City may get the moniker, “If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.” Los Angeles isn’t too far off.

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I Came Back As a Sock

March 30, 2023

The Usual

I remember being told that when we die we will resurrect as something else

That could be anything from a wasp to a tiger or, in some way, an elf

I liked the thought of being an elephant something renowned

Maybe even a whale, a lion or maybe an owl

It certainly looks like we forgot to include the inanimate

Like the chair you sit in, the curtains you hang, or that dirty plate

You wouldn’t believe it, but I came back as a sock…just a sock

Not a pair of socks, only the one. What is a bird without its flock?

I remember meeting my other half and talking in the sock drawer

But that was some time ago because now I’m under a chair on the floor

I miss my other half, but I also miss being looked for

Even if I am found, I’m pretty sure the trash is what I have in store

It is quite lonely, but has given me time to think

To value connection when possible because it can be gone with a blink

To understand that I truly am alone even when my match exists

And to get comfortable with me, maybe even coming across bliss

I’m not ashamed to say that I came back as a sock

I know whatever I am next won’t be such a shock

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Race

February 14, 2023

The Usual

I met this girl who had a such a beautiful face

Let me also say, she was the opposite race

And because of that alone things would change

The story gets deeper, just let me explain

We fell for each other, it was perfect bliss

Exceptionally with those lips, and how they would kiss

I was the first Black man she has ever been with, so she tells me

But wasn’t sure how her parents were gonna react towards me

A different situation, I must say but I’ll press on

Thinking that what we have now will be strong and long

She wanted to take it slow, the reasons, I knew why

Because of the prejudice of her parents against me being a black guy

I eventually meet her parents. Am I nervous? Damn right!

My parents said, “Just be yourself and you will be all right.”

Meeting her dad, I immediately knew

He didn’t care about me, what I did, or who I knew

Because when I went to shake his hand

He didn’t look me in the eye or bother to stand

Meeting her mom, she seemed fine

With the idea of her daughter being mine

Things got better between her and I

Every time I saw her, I couldn’t believe my eyes

Then it all ended, everything that we had

Left in the dark with no explanation of how it got so bad

Then, days later, she finally writes to me

Explaining to me the reason why it had to be

“My mom,” she says, “really does like you,”

“But, even still…doesn’t want me to date you.”

Because of her parents, all we had…ends

And causes me to be downgraded to less than a friend

It hurts indeed, to be kicked to the curb

Because of the color of my skin, how absurd!

To automatically be dropped because of that factor

And for all the good to be thrown into the dumpster

I had to learn the lesson, and simply move on

To try not to get involved and repeat the same song

I meat girl who had such a beautiful face

And it all ended because of my race

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Knock Knock by Daniel Beaty

January 29, 2023

The Usual

As a boy I shared a game with my father. Played it every morning ‘til I was 3.
He would knock knock on my door, and I’d pretend to be asleep
‘til he got right next to the bed, Then I would get up and jump into his arms.
“Good morning, Papa.” And my papa he would tell me that he loved me. We shared
a game. Knock knock.

Until that day when the knock never came and my momma takes me on a ride past
corn fields on this never ending highway ‘til we reach a place of high rusty gates.
A confused little boy, I entered the building carried in my mama’s arms. Knock
knock. We reach a room of windows and brown faces behind one of the windows
sits my father. I jump out of my mama’s arms and run joyously towards my papa
Only to be confronted by this window. I knock knock trying to break through the
glass, trying to get to my father. I knock knock as my mama pulls me away
before my papa even says a word.

And for years he never said a word. And so twenty-five years later, I write these
words for the little boy in me who still awaits his papa’s knock.
Papa, come home ‘cause I miss you. I miss you waking me up in the morning and
telling me you love me. Papa, come home, ‘cause there’s things I don’t know, and I
thought maybe you could teach me. how to shave; how to dribble a ball; how to
talk to a lady; how to walk like a man. Papa, come home because I decided a
while back I wanted to be just like you. But I’m forgetting who you are.
And twenty-five years later a little boy cries, and so I write these words and try
to heal and try to father myself and I dream up a father who says the words my
father did not.

Dear Son,
I’m sorry I never came home. For every lesson I failed to teach, hear these words:
Shave in one direction in strong deliberate strokes to avoid irritation
Dribble the page with the brilliance of your ballpoint pen. Walk like a god and
your goddess will come to you. No longer will I be there to knock on your door, So
you must learn to knock for yourself.

Knock knock down doors of racism and poverty that I could not. Knock knock down
doors of opportunity for the lost brilliance of the black men who crowd these cells.
Knock knock with diligence for the sake of your children.
Knock knock for me for as long as you are free, these prison gates cannot contain
my spirit. The best of me still lives in you. Knock knock with the knowledge that
you are my son, but you are not my choices.

Yes, we are our fathers’ sons and daughters, but we are not their choices. For
despite their absences we are still here. Still alive, still breathing
with the power to change this world, one little boy and girl at a time.

Knock knock
Who’s there?
We are.

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How a Steep Hill Changed Everything

January 24, 2023

The Usual

When you’re a kid with a bike in the 90’s (or 80’s or 70’s, or etc), hills play a major role. Hills are the embodiment of speed, fun, and danger. Although my sister experienced hills in a negative manner (explained in a previous entry), I never lost the fascination surrounding hills and their potential to accelerate my enjoyment. Not all hills or situations are created equal. This is something I would learn the hard way and (to this day) have the scars to show for it.

It was a hot summer day in Texas and I was in the 7^th grade. On this particular day, the heat wasn’t too deadly, so me and my friends decided to take a ride to Crystal Mountain. Crystal Mountain wasn’t a mountain at all, but it was a location for many bike riders to go and explore the dirt hills and to try different sized jumps. Given how bored we all were of playing PS2 and N64 (yeah, that long ago), it was a great idea. We got our bikes together and headed off. To get to the destination, a ride through a particular housing area was required and this particular housing area had “The Hill”. It was about 200 meters long, but the aggressive incline would have you flying down this hill. As the 5 of us reach the top of the hill, we all paused and locked eyes with each other. Each of us knew this would be a big undertaking. After locking eyes with one another, we pushed off and down we went. I was the fourth one to go. Once over the crest of the hill, I began to pick up speed. Feeling the wind in my face while riding with my friends was liberating. There was nowhere else I wanted to be. It felt like getting to Crystal Mountain was the least of our worries. As we were passing the halfway point of “The Hill”, the speed became too much for someone in the group and would impact all of us.

Without warning, the person in front of me slides to a stop. Not only slides to a stop, but slides to a stop sideways. He’s now this perpendicular obstacle directly in front of me and I’m quickly approaching him. I remember the many different options of how to get out of this situation running through my head. Should I keep straight and hit him head on? Should I lean into a hard turn that would get around him, but risk hitting a parked car or the fifth guy behind me? I decided to slowly steer my bike out of his way, but I wasn’t able to do so without success. I clipped their front wheel. Now I have the wobbles and am mentally preparing to slide down the road like I’m stealing home plate. I begin to tilt towards the ground and hope that it won’t hurt as much as I think it will. I brace for impact and hit the pavement. When I finally stop sliding, I open my eyes and stand up. I begin to assess the damage. I look at my elbows and see white patches. I look at my hands and see more white patches. I begin to remember how I ended up in this predicament and look for him. I’m looking for the guy who decided to suddenly stop. I find him and begin to begin to fume. I’ve locked eyes with him and begin cussing and stomping the ground, “Why would you f**king stop you stupid f**king idiot!” As I refocus my attention on the guy who stopped, he has already started peddling back up the hill. Although I felt vindicated, a part of me felt bad for scaring him off.

As he peddles back up the hill, I continue cussing, but then hear a raspy voice say, “Hey, hey, hey…stop! Come on now! Stop all that cussin’.” The voice was coming from an older man who was watering his yard. After his comments, I began to soften. I then see my friends, who were in front of me, circle around and begin to make their way back to me. They ask what happened. I tell them. They look at my wounds and nod. We agree to go back to our friend’s house. Remember, because it was the summer break, my parents weren’t home yet, so decided to wait until the late afternoon to ensure that by the time I got home, I had a parent’s attention. When finally got home, my mom looks at the wounds and was surprised yet calm. After cleaning the wounds and putting Vasiline on them, she decided to take pictures of my wounds. Going back to school and being questioned by my classmates, “What happened?” made me feel like a bad ass. It would take many weeks for the wounds on my elbows to heal. The scars left behind would be come up during the “What’s your worst wound?” question during gatherings. Although the scars are mostly faded, I’m still reminded of that situation when I look at my elbows.

It was up until that fall that I loved hills. Until that point, I loved everything hills had to offer. Unfortunately, it was at this point that that I fell out of love with hills and pivoted toward safer ventures. Even though it wasn’t their fault, hills caused me pain and created situations that I could no longer trust. I still appreciate what hills have to offer, but I’ve parted ways with hills…unless I’m in my truck. Cheers!!!

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