Sunday, September 25, 2011

Can I Have Some? I need some of that! I will be gentle.

One child grows up to be
Somebody that just loves to learn
Another child grows up to be
Somebody we just love to burn

"Carey, what I've been learning on blogs like yours and Kit's is that people benefit from us sharing that hard stuff. It's not easy to share, but it makes me feel good to know other people relate and appreciate it" - Ms Ashley Smith

Why is it hard to share the hard stuff, and why do people appreciate [it]?

I have a brother that's deep in a storm. Well, he was duel addicted to crack and heroin. To some degree he still is. See, someone had this great idea to give addicts a synthetic drug that has the same narcotic effect of heroin, and thus, champion the addict as cured. Not cured but "better".

Okay, better, what does that mean?

If I give a mother of 4 children, 600 dollars, and then tell her she can sit on her fat ass and do nothing, is she better? She didn't have any money to start with, so is she better? Better at what, better how?!

In the case of my brother, lets talk about the real thang. Now that he's getting his "approved" drug from an "approved" dealer, is he really better? Better at what, better how?!

Now he HAS to take a drug that is 10 times stronger than heroin (Every day of rest of his life). And regardless of what the drug company says, I am here to tell you that his new drug is an opiate, just like heroin. It's users nod, scratch, and medicate their souls. In short, they get high high high, and don't let nobody tell you differently. The drug is called Methadone. We call it Gorilla Juice. If a person had a monkey on their back, once they start taking Methadone, they then have a gray back gorilla on their ass. I've been through a storm but I've never taken Methadone. Well, not legally.

My brother is better, but he is still the same immature person that he's always been. He's insecure and afraid of his emotion. If you ask him, he would tell you he wasn't really an addict. He conveniently forgets that he's the same person that literally sold the shoes off his feet to get high. He forgets that he's the same person that sold all his families Christmas gift - to get high. He conveniently forgets that day a man knocked on his door to take possession of his wife's car that he sold to a dope dealer - without her consent and/or knowledge. He once told our mother that he had cancer, so he could bilk her out of her money. Yep, he's still basically the same guy, but now he's drinking Methadone. I've come to believe it allows him to stay in his comfort zone. No growth can be found while living with a child's mind.

When I question him on why he consistently runs from the hard "stuff" - like growing up, and being a responsible man - he says he's not ready for that. He said he has to wait until his new drug settles in to hold him down.  He's been waiting for 3 years!  Yet, ever morning he gets up, leaves his home and drives several miles to sign in for his legalized fix.  The begging question is... WHY? Why are we all of afraid of the hard stuff?

A women that I see on a regular basis has a daughter that's a lesbian. Upon first hearing about her daughter, she was hurt. She didn't know anything about lesbians. She only knew what others said about them. Of course, much of what she heard was rooted in ignorance. She thought she had done something wrong. Yet, through a little pain, knowledge and a lot of prayer, she's now very comfortable with her daughter's lifestyle. In fact, her daughter, that once was married to a man, is soon to be married to a woman. And check this, they got my dumb ass up in the wedding. Yep, not only am I in the wedding, I'm the MC at the reception. It's a family affair.

The hard stuff: Why is it so hard to let it go?
Mom loves the both of them
You see it's in the blood
Both kids are good to mom
blood's thicker than the mud, it's a family affair

You can't leave 'cause your heart is there
Sure you can't stay 'cause you been somewhere else
You can't cry 'cause you'll look broke down
But you're cryin anyway 'cause you're all broke down

It's A Family Affair - Sly Stone

I need some love. Can I get some of that? I don't mind the hard stuff. What about you?

Well, the questions and answers to this post can be found in the comment section. Yes sir, there's a few fights going on. Join in if you don't mind the hard stuff.


There was an American animated television series featuring Tooter Turtle and The Wizard. Mr. Wizard lived in a tiny cardboard box at the base of a tall tree (something like The White House). Tooter would knock on the cardboard box, to ask another favor. From inside the box, Mr. Wizard would shrink Tooter small enough to enter through the box's front door, and eagerly invite him in. Mr. Wizard has the magic to change Tooter's life to some other destiny, usually sending him back in time and to various locales. Since none of Tooter's alternate lives ever worked out, the moral of each segment was always the same: "Be satisfied with your lot."

When Tooter's trip finally became a catastrophe, he always called out the same thing, "Help me, Mr. Wizard!" Mr. Wizard would rescue him with the incantation, "Drizzle, drazzle, druzzle, drome; time for zis one to come home." Then, Mr. Wizard would always give Tooter the same advice: "Be just vhat you is, not vhat you is not. Folks vhat do zis are ze happiest lot." Tooter never learned, though.

Now enters the New Wizard And a few Tudor Turtles: Find the messages in the following sagas. Remember... be what you is and not what you not, those that do that, are the happiest lot.

********************************THE NEW WIZARD********************************

The New Wizard (President Obama) says: "I am granting wishes today, so who will be the first turtle to find their destiny?"

The horse mouth Harvey says: "Hey prez, since I am the love doctor, I want to be the president of The United States. I want to spread love and unity to get this country back on the right path"

The new wizard: First, didn't you read those letters on my suit? Recognize that I am the Wizard and the HNIC and the president, so act like you have some damn sense and address me with respect. My name is Mr. President. But listen, asking you for advice on love, is like asking Jack The Ripper for a band-aid. Yes, he's going to produce a band-aid, and cut your damn throat at the same time. What would your past nine wives have to say about you being the love doctor? Yep, you cut them deep and low. However, now you want to be the president? Okay... **POOF**

The little turtle that wanted to be the president was off to spread the new president. His first stop: All the black folks of the US. After a very short period, he didn't want to be the president any more.

The horse mouth turtle: "Help me, Mr. Wizard! They are killing me"

The Wizard: "Drizzle, drazzle, druzzle, drome; time for zis one to come home. Boy, didn't I tell you to be what you is, and not what you are not? You must have discovered a few disadvantages of being the president. First, love don't love nobody - huh? I also saw your HBO special "quit trippin, God ain't done with me yet". Consequently, in spite of your new found faith, I bet some people would not let you forget your past. I can assume they mentioned your education, your momma, and your daddy and your wife. And, your vernacular was probably "too black" for some. Some folks even said you were too rich to understand their problems. I bet some people even took shots at your religion. Yep, I've heard all those cries. Love is a funny thing, and cynics will never find love, no matter how hard you try. So, tie your horse to a wagon, and let me do my job. Who's next?

The Hammer: "You have not touch this, Mr. Wizard. I mean, what about us black folks? You have not stood up for our personal needs, so I want to be president so I can to show the world how a natural black man gets the job done. And remember, you can't touch this.

The Wizard: "First, I wouldn't want to touch that! But, wasn't you the guy that had millions of dollars before you decided to participate in the negro side-walk show? You know, showing everybody how black you were by buying cabins in the sky, and having a large entourage of black groupies? Not to mention your choice of clothes. Gosh, that must be a black thang. Besides, although I admire your ability to rise from being George Steinberger's bat boy, you failed to look at the big picture. You listen to those that said me me me, and lost your spot, and now you're just the proud black hammer, that had a reality show. But, if you want to be the president... **POOF**... Go touch that!"

The proud black hammer was off to show the world how to represent the black voice. Every issue that involved a black person, his intent was to throw caution to the wind. He had decided to tell the world to let his people go. However, he soon was crying worst than Keith Sweat, Jimmy Swaggard and Arsenio Hall in Harlem nights.

The Black Hammer: "Lawd help me. Help me Mr. Wizard. These folks are hanging me!"

The Wizard: "Drizzle, drazzle, druzzle, drome; time for this boy to come home. So hammer, you were going to get your black stride on -huh! Well, they talked about your momma like she was a 10 dollar ho, with a 2 dollar p**** and a rubber a**hole. Yep, I've been there because my mother is white. Our issues are not exactly the same, but my blues is just like yours. And, I bet you didn't know I could cus? Nigga please, don't let that Harvard degree fool you. I was born and raised in the Brier Patch. You know I was ostracised for much of my life. In Hawaii, they have a special name for our type.

Anyway, they said you were too rich to relate to their problems, even though you are a black man. But I see you tried to broach the subject of racism. Well, that's when they really brought out the hanging rope. When you said that police officer (in the Skip Gates case) acted stupidly, some folks said you were stepping outside the boundaries of the presidency. And other folks said you should have never invited that man to the white house. On all the "black issues" you had clowns on the left of you, and jokers on the right. Some people said you were giving preferential treatment to black people.

You said "you can't touch this". Now they are calling you Can't-Get-Right. Even your supposed allies, white and black, said we are all just Americans... blind of color. But, when you said black, some folks jumped back. When you said "Americans" some negros cried... what about us?

So do your thang hammer time, but be what you is and not what you's not, leave the driving to me, or you could get knocked-out. Who's next?"

Chris Rock: Hold up Mr. Wizard, I mean Mr. President, I ain't trying to be nobodies fool and nobodies president. I've been there and done that. I mean, I was the star of the movie Head Of State, so I know what you're going through. Look at my teeth, I think they put something in my water, and I couldn't trust anyone. They used the guilt by association trick, and the divide and conquer ploy. They solicited influential black businesses and black politician to sway the minds of those that are natural cynics and born again haters. Even some of my so called supporters berated me when I spoke to my friends, or went to places that didn't meet their approval. You know, just like when you visited The View. Also, in the movie, my brother was Bernie Mac, which caused an uproar because of his occupation. I couldn't get a break. I know you've been there.

I love you man. You have been the best role model for my children (and any person of color) that a black man could ask for. You've shown millions of black childrens how to overcome adversity and the sky is the limit. So, I am not going to be foolish enough to believe I know more than you. So you can drizzle your drazzle and druzzle your drome, but I am already home. I am a black man in America, and I know what that means.

The President: "Stop it Chris, you're going to make me cry. Bring your kids by my house. Lets sit down and have a beer.

I don't believe there is a truly "thinking" man or woman who could legitimately claim or believe the request to "watch the motive of others" regarding the public flogging of a President can compare to what some would call "hero worship", and/or compare the request to the blind devotion some folks have demonstrated in regards to Kwame Kilpatrick and Marion Berry.

The same folks who had the audacity to offer that half-ass video of Shirley Sherrod are still out there, on the case, in their war rooms, plotting and strategizing. In fact, they have always been on the case, for their team! It's time for us to think, stay focused and understand what is going on and what the stakes are and always have been.

Choose a team! And remember what our ancestors knew, "It was never just a game!" Just cause some folks say it's only "politics" doesn't mean it is!

What will they say when our troops are brought home from Iraq? In the end, move with caution and don't be nobodies fool"
There was an American animated television series featuring Tooter Turtle and The Wizard. The Wizard lived in a tiny cardboard box at the base of a tall tree (something like The White House).

BigmacInPittsburgh Took me a second or two to get it but good post! Trying to get some of the arm chair critics to be understanding of their criticism is like hitting your head upon a brick wall. Most of those critics you speak of have not a clue of the real world. Most will believe everything the media throws at them without asking the most important question. WHY am I being told this or that!

Carey: Most of my posts are about mistakes I've made. It's been my hope that others may learn from my journey and possibly see themselves in me. See, I've been a zip fool. To change, I first had to accept that and then find those qualities that might keep me back there.Without rationalizations or excuses.... my hand is raised.

Mizrepresent: lmao, okay Carey/Carey, i'm no fool, at least by definition...but i have been played the fool, many times...but love, what was this post about?

CareyCarey: "but love, what was this post about?" Miz, I am glad you asked. Since you've been reading my stuff (8 years) long before I considered myself a blogger, you know it takes me awhile to get to my point. Yes, I like to tell little stories along the way. On the surface, this post was about being a fool (who's really the fool). Underneath that, it was about holding up a mirror. A mirror to our souls/behavior. Although the fool has many qualities, they're exhibited in many forms. I use my blog to see how people will respond in face to face encounters. Even though people can hide behind a screen, human behavior seldom changes. In my "day job" I encounter people that are resistant to change and the blogsphere is no different. So,again, "what was this post about"? It was about me trying to find a common theme in those that rationalize their wrongdoings. I use those messages. It helps me prepare a rational analysis, so that I can use that information to maybe suggest an error in "their/my" judgement/thinking pattern. I know no one wants to be a fool, so I was listening to how they classified/rationalized their foolishness. However, I agree with everyone, being a die hard fool depends on how often a person engages in foolishness.... in ALL it's glory. On a side note, you know I've been telling my life story for many years. This blog is an extension of that.

Keith: Ahem- I think that Fat Lady decided to go to the bathroom.

Big Mark 243 For those who support him, they find comfort in that. For those who irrationaly hate on him, well I did say it was irrational, their hate.

KevinsTeeTee: Yes yes it is I (Nicki-Nik) I've been away all weekend (got my Disneyland and Michael Jackson on) so I hadn't had time to comment on this post. Yes we've all played the fool as some point in our lives and best believe you'll probably play one again because that's just how life works. The difference being that with life comes experience so the number of foolish encounters should (assuming you learned your lesson because you know some people are Darwin award recipients) diminish. I'm sure this post is more geared towards the individuals who appear to argue for the sake of doing so without any rhyme or reason. And I've come across those who just have to be right even if it means compromising themselves long term from people wanting to converse with them. And maybe they don't mind the isolation since their polarized views would create such a situation. Or maybe they'll find people who think like them (e.g. think Rush Simp-baugh) and grab a soap box and start preaching their brand of 'truth' to those who are already in that realm of thinking...

Maxinr said: Is there really such thing as a 'person who knows no sorrow?' Being foolish sounds like it might lighten a lot of burdens :)

FreeMan: Well if someone is a fool full time then they have a real problem but most cats on a blog have been a fool. I know I have plenty of times but sometimes I can't lie I'm having fun frustrating people. Sometimes I lose my way but once a conscientious objector steps in via email or just saying hey Man Stop, I can stop!I have been FOOLISH but have only dabbled in it, not long enough for one to draw a conclusion on the MAN speaking. I have been a drive by fool on plenty of occasions but if someone doubles back I stopped.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

IT LOOKS LIKE ANOTHER LOVE TKO: Baby, I can't do this no more.

The most dominate factors to my growth have come via my journey through love and pain. Those rewards did not come from the love of others. It was more about my ability to recover the love -- I lost -- for myself.

This post was inspired by:

A Smith,
Ms. Ann @ The Old Black Church

I love love love personal blogs. I view my blog as personal, but what do I have in common with the above women, and what do they have in common with each other? Well, they all have either lost a loved one, or are in the process of losing a loved one, or has written about the pain of supporting a loved one or letting them go. To some degree, I think everyone has been there.

My father never had to cut the cord from me. He didn't see my deepest struggles. He passed away at an early age.

Some of my greatest memories are the times I spent with my father. I loved to watch him play softball. Those were different days, they were slower times. Drug abuse and fatherless children were not the prevalent topics of discussion. I can remember going to far off places with my father and his softball team. Well, we lived in Illinois, and what seemed like a distant land, was nothing more than a small town or a corn field on the other side of the Mississippi River. But to me, they were a places of wonderment. Just as in the movie "The Field Of Dreams" the farmers built it, and we played in it. Actually, I went to shag foul balls. Since the ball diamonds were carved out of corn fields or near a corn field, a foul ball, or a home run that landed in the corn, was worth 5 cents to the luckiest or fastest kid that retrieved the wayward Spalding. I was pretty fast and didn't mind getting scratched by the corn stalks.

After returning home, I shared my bounty with my brothers. Sometimes it would be as much as 1 dollar. A paltry sum by todays standards, but a kings ransom back then. The neighborhood movie cost twenty two cents. A fresh hot bag of popcorn could be had for a nickel, likewise for a small pop. Those were the days, 3 raggety black kids enjoying a day at the movies. I remember the joy on my fathers face. He was proud of me and my brothers, and pleased that we had a great time together.

My father was a man's man. In his last days I had to carry him to the bath room. He was to weak to walk the distance and to proud to take care of his business in his bed. I remember the look on his face - he couldn't do for his self. I still remember my loss for words. He didn't have to bare the pain of seeing me down, yet, I felt the pain of losing him. Although I no longer wear that pain, I remember what I had to go through to put it in it's proper place.

My mother saw me on the ground. She saw the depths of my struggles. I'll get back to her.

Kit, (above), has shared some of her recent struggles with her son. With the conviction and courage of a lion, she has shared her pain of a mother holding on to a son, that was  lost in a storm. She's documented that journey, which at times has been very disturbing.

Many bloggers have gathered at her blog with words of encouragement and inspiration. One such blogger, A Smith (above), went there to share her story. She told of her lover that was struggling with drug abuse. Her lovers mother told her to run away from her son. It was her opinion that her son would drag A Smith to the ground. Even though Ms. Smith loved this man, she finally realize she had to let him go. She told him she couldn't do it anymore. They broke up and a few months later, her lover committed suicide.

A Smith dropped by Kit's blog to share a little compassion, empathy, and wisdom, on the process of going through her own storm. She said, although the ending to her story was not how she would have planned it, and was not without pain, she now believes the thought of letting go was much more painful than being in her present state. She said she still misses her guy, but the healing process began when she made the decision to let him go. Now there's a possibility for solutions, if only for herself.

How does a mother let go?

I am not a mother so I can't answer that question, but I know how my mother forced me to swim or die. She simply told me she had given it to God, and she was done. She couldn't do it any more.

After my biggest fall, my friends and family told me they had never seen my mother as low as those days of my turmoil. They said she was dying inside. While in my struggle, her feelings and emotions were never at the forefront of my mind. So, in retrospect, it was only fitting that she left me to my own demise. I am grateful that she cut the cord. She told me that my burial was paid and I had to sink or swim. Oh lord, did I sink, but I didn't drown. My gratefulness extends beyoud my obvious rewards, but moreso to the fact that my mother found the courage to release herself from my pain. There's an old school songs that goes... "when something is wrong with my baby, something is wrong with me".

I included Mizrepresents and Ann (above) because both of them have shared their journeys of holding on to sons that were walking down dark roads. I don't know if they've given any details of their lives so I will refrain from doing so in this post. However, through our common struggles, we've exchanged words of wisdom and words of encouragement. They may not know it, but their words have inspired me to continue  writing and  continue to share in a courageous and honest way. Other people may not know it, but I know they cry... sometimes.

Maybe one day we will all sit down at the same table and have one big cry. Men do cry, and sometimes, tears come from joy, and hope, and the realization that it's gonna be alright in the morning.

Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down
Oh, yes, Lord
Sometimes I’m almost to de groun’
Oh, yes, Lord

If you get there before I do
Oh, yes, Lord
Tell all-a my friends I’m coming too
Oh, yes, Lord

Nobody knows de trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows de trouble but Jesus
Nobody knows de trouble I’ve seen
Glory Hallelujah!

 It's another love TKO!

Get Out Of My Life Woman. I DON'T LUV YOU NO MO!

Please baby, a thousand times NO, I rather die than say yes.

cave woman dragging cave man Pictures, Images and Photos

Bill Cosby, Get out of my life woman

Sunday, September 18, 2011


I was walking with the devil. He loved me and I loved him back. Crazy I know, but it's true. All that I am about to tell you is true.

If I could get high right now, I would. Are you kidding me, there is no greater feeling. That's real and very dangerous. If you didn't know, you don't want to know, because the sensations of some chemicals are better than the best orgasms. That's real and very dangerous.

If you didn't know, you don't want to know, because some drugs will actually bring on an orgasm. Yes, that's the truth and very dangerous. Who doesn't like orgasms?

You will not hear this from your local treatment center of your 10 o'clock news AND you might not want to, because some drugs hold back ejaculation which make some men feel like Tarzan. And, women love their Tarzans. That's the honest to God truth and that's real and very dangerous. Who doesn't want to boogie woogie all night long?

If I could get high right now, I would. Who wouldn't want to hold back the aging process? Some drugs do that, but you didn't hear that from me (and you will not hear that from anyone else), AND, you don't want to hear that. Some of the best athletes have the lowest heart rates, around 30-40 beats per second. An elevated heart rate means the heart is working harder. Stress, worry and pain are contributing factors to an increased heart rate. Some drugs will take away that worry and stress and leave you with a sense of ease and comfort. You don't want to hear that because it's an euphoria like no other. Some drugs produce a sleep with dreams that are colorful, peaceful and long lasting. Nothing in the world can touch it, and that's real and very dangerous.

All the above situations, sexual prowess, instant orgasms, long orgasms, multiple orgasms, sweet dreams, and a worry free mind are very dangerous. Not because of the championed adverse affects, it's because you're going to love it. Then, after a short period, the mind remembers all those sensations, BUT... and HOWEVER, unfortunately those same sensations will never be reached again without that same drug. No never, not ever, NEVER. But the mind sits and waits for it's lover to come back home. There will never be another lover like that lover. But the mind sits, and cries and yearns and waits.

This post was inspired by my closest friend that heard that cry. He was in the ministry, sitting right up in the pulpit, but unfortunately his demons called him back. He just called me today (July 19, 2010) and others had been whispering. We had been walking this path together. For years we have been each others greatest support. Now I am left to wonder, what went wrong?

If I could get high right now, today, I would, but I can't. I asked my friend if the drug still felt as good as in the old days. He said it felt even better. But let me go back a couple of days.

The other day I received an e-mail from another blogger. One part of the e-mail said, "Im gonna start getting more confrontational, but in a good way. I may be wrong from time to time, but Im sure people will put me in my place. I want to build a more dynamic blog, like yours, boo!"

Well, I've often questioned why I and other people blog? Although we seldom talk about it, I doubt there's not one of us who doesn't want to be sought out, liked, and admired. In no small way, our perceived popularity makes us or breaks us. It's like the wind beneath our wings.

However, I say to my friend and others, be careful what you ask for. I may be confrontational and I may be loud, that's because I have to be or I might get high. My brain will ply me with sweet memories of days long gone. It will try to render me helpless against that first wayward walk on the wild side. So I have to say it loud and confront anything they may persuade me to forget the insanity driven consequences of taking that same path as my friend.

I don't know what evil lurked in the heart of my best friend, but I know the devil had me in his mouth, but I slipped away with a little help.

Being loud, confrontational or what some would consider dynamic, will not get one a bunch of comments or hits, but it's helping me to never forget the horrors of my past. I have to keep the problem close to me so that I am always working on solutions. Because I remember it, and I know I will hear it's cry, but I can't love it anymore.