Yearning To Be Free

What is this “Gay Agenda” I keep hearing conservatives talking about and why wasn’t I included in the conversation or even given a copy. I keep missing out on these directives when they’re handed out. I’m beginning to feel like it’s being done on purpose. It’s like when in the 80’s all of a sudden we went from calling ourselves Black people to calling ourselves African-American. Well nobody consulted me and I don’t recall a poll going around or even a voting ballot. I mean African-American is okay and I use it in my writing, mainly to be politically correct, but it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue the way Black does. And to be honest aren’t African-Americans those African citizens who become naturalized American citizens? If not what are they called because they are not the same as African-Americans born in America…(my head hurts). Anyway back to this “Gay Agenda”. What the hell is this thing and am I included or will I be left out like African-Americans (there’s that word again) were when the Constitution was written. Or maybe it’s something I don’t even want to be included in. I mean I don’t want to sign up for something that means I would have to disown members of my family or that would require me to force my religious beliefs on to free thinking adults who are completely capable of making decisions that affect their lives themselves. What if it causes me to fear what I don’t understand and rationalize it through selective scripture readings? Perhaps I’ll begin to live my life based on these readings with no regard to who wrote them, the era written or their personal agenda.

But if the “Gay Agenda” is something that provides equality to all Americans regardless of gender or sexual orientation then count me in. If it means harassment in housing and the workplace is not allowed, I’m all in. If it means same sex married couples are afforded the same of over 1,138 Federal benefits currently offered to heterosexual couples based on marital status, including unpaid leave to care for an ill spouse, social security survivor benefits and spousal benefits and the right to refuse to testify against one’s spouse among others, I’m all for it. If it allows me to choose to serve my country in the military without some ridiculous law that requires me to perjure myself, count me in. As Americans haven’t all citizens earned the right to live free and entitlement to equal protection under the law? To live in a nation unbound by religious condemnation, a nation where the rights of the minority are not voted upon and taken away by the majority. I’m not so sure and I don’t think this so called “Gay Agenda” has much chance of succeeding and frankly has no place in these United States. After all, what are your expectations of a country founded by duplicitous and insincere slave owners yearning to be free?

Tiger By The Tail

911 received a call the other day. It was someone calling to say they were a neighbor of Tiger Wood’s and he had just smashed his truck into the neighbor’s tree. As it turns out there was some domestic squabble between Tiger and his wife and she caused the accident by chasing him with a golf club. I’m sure you were shocked and had the same thought as me, “What the hell is Tiger Woods doing with neighbors”? I mean the man made $25 million in golf tournaments and another $150 million in endorsement deals in 2008 alone! Can’t he afford an estate somewhere without neighbors? At least neighbors not in such close proximity as to witness an accident. And what about that wife? I thought he was married to a white woman but this lady beat him up and then chased his speeding truck down the street wielding a golf club to whip his ass further and then she calls the other woman and threatens to beat her ass if she doesn’t stay away from her man…I don’t know, sounds like a sister to me. At least so far he’s been smart enough to stay out of site until his face heals. Now she’s renegotiating their prenuptial agreement…

And what of his critics? The ones who said he was too arrogant, aloof and a selfish golfer. They’re now having a field day. It was he who constantly tried to downplay his race but the fact is Tiger, you are and always will be a Black man named Eldrick. Yes...Eldrick. A black man who took over a sport previously dominated by rich white men who were immediately resentful and jealous. It was after all the sport of kings and these same white men love seeing the king’s “stunning fall from grace” as one commentator called it. Rush Limbaugh has already weighed in stating, “The black frame of mind is terrible. They’re depressed…” “I’m sure Tiger Woods choice of females is not helping ‘em out with their attitudes there either”. So, Tiger runs into controversy and according to Rush Limbaugh we’re all depressed by it because he’s dating white women. Right! Glenn Beck compared Tiger to O.J…. I’ll let that sink in. Yes O.J. a man accused of murdering two people. Other than the fact that both of these athletes dated and married white women what else do they have in common…silly me, they’re both Black so of course that equals murder. Beck says race was not a factor in his comments but I wonder how many white athlete adulterers he has compared to O.J.

I’m not so sure how far Tiger has fallen and as far as controversies go initially it didn’t seem so bad but it seems almost daily another mistress has come forward or a voice mail left by Tiger shows up. Speaking of which, I just want to ask Tiger, “Voice mails? Really?” So the question remains how much further will he fall and what can he do to stop his descent. I’ve never been a fan of golf or Mr. Woods more because of his statements concerning his race, you know him being “Cablinasian” and all. Really, that’s what he calls himself. But I’m no hater either and in spite of him downplaying his race and related issues, as a Black man I am proud of his achievements and I’m concerned about what happens to his image now as the world’s greatest golfer. And although no one is perfect I’m concerned about what image the world’s greatest golfer, a Black man in spite of himself, presents to all those Black children out there who hope one day to achieve. I’m concerned about the Rush Limbaughs and Glenn Becks of the world and their influence on the haters looking for ways to bring down rich and successful African-Americans. And finally I’m concerned about the Tiger Woods of the world who offer them opportunities to do so on a silver platter.

The Secret Life of Bees

Our neighbor in the house in back of us has a beehive attached to their tree directly behind our garage and although I have made pleaded attempts to have them remove it they have so far ignored me. Now I know what you’re thinking, “this story will not end well”…you’re right, but first let me take you back a little bit. I also have neighbors to the right and left of me. A few years ago I decided it was time to replace the old dilapidated fence on both sides of our property. If you visited back then you might remember that fence, it hung lower than a pair of Dickies on a 16 year-old gang banger. It was a white picket fence that at one time probably looked like the fence around the house on Leave It to Beaver but now it just looked like Beaver left it. Anyway I approached each of these two neighbors about splitting the cost for a new fence. My neighbor to the left, a sweet old lady, agreed to split the cost. I also talked to the old broad to the right but her ass was too cheap to split the cost and she never got back to me, in fact she avoided me like I was an IRS agent attempting to collect back taxes from her for domestic work she performed during slavery. Did I mention she was old? Seriously, I could swear I saw her in the background of the painting of The Last Supper. Needless to say she got the ugly side of the fence and now I throw her the stink eye whenever I see her stingy ass.

The problem is she has a couple of Bebe’s Kids for grandchildren…and I know one of the little mini gangstas stole my ghetto blaster I used to keep on the patio. Whenever they visit her the dumb asses kick their ball into our yard and then hang on the fence like monkeys on a jungle gym trying to climb over to get it back. I don’t know how many times I’ve been tempted to take the ball and use it to knock their little asses off the fence like ducks at a carnival shooting gallery. I’m constantly shooing the little buttholes away and its put wear and tear on the fence and lately the portion behind the garage has begun to lean over, which brings me to the bees.

It was Sunday afternoon and Wick had been out of town since Friday visiting his daughter in New Orleans for the Thanksgiving holiday. As much as I had been looking forward to spending a little time alone I was bored out of my mind. I had watched a gazillion movies on the DVR, already been to the mall and there is only so much solo cheesecake gorging one can do, so I decided to fix the fence in the back. To get to the fence I had to climb over the plastic bags of hundreds of can and bottles we had been collecting for recycling all year long. These cans and bottles were piled so high I felt like I was on the Lewis & Clark expedition. The only thing missing was Sacaja what’s-her-name. Once I crossed over them I felt like I should erect a flag like the first moon landing. Anyway, I made it to the fence to check out the situation. The bees stayed on their side and I stayed on mine. As I looked at the damage caused by the next door rugrats, I realized I would need a ladder to complete my mission as I needed to reach over the fence to mend it. So I headed back over the Cumberland Trail and to the garage to get one.

Finally I made it back and was able to repair the fence. As I surveyed my way back over the Swiss Alps with the ladder in one hand and the hammer in the other a bee began buzzing around my ear. I decided I would ignore it and kept going as I assumed we had a cease fire agreement but the bee had other ideas. It landed on my nose just as I was mid step over a pile of cans. I tried to remain calm as I looked at it cross-eyed thinking I could just flick it away with the hammer in my right hand. Of course I ended up hitting myself right below my left eye which must have startled the bee because I swear I heard him yell “Oh Shit!” and through my crossed-eyed gaze I watched as he released his stinger right into the tip of my nose. As I heard myself yelling “Oww!” I began to fall forward over the cans for what seemed like an hour all the while thinking to myself, “Don’t yell to loud you don’t want to alert the rest of the bees”. As I hit the ground the bee fell from my nose leaving the stinger behind. I tried to get up but I kept falling over the bottles and cans and I could hear the bees begin to buzz around me forming an armed force ready to strike. All I could think to do was cover my face but I was still holding the hammer and almost knocked myself out with it as I raised my hand. 

After several unsuccessful attempts of slipping and sliding and getting my feet stuck in the bags, I was able to get to my feet and running silently like a mad fool flinging my arms around me, made it back to the house and inside without further stings…and fortunately, no further hammer injuries. I grabbed a pair of tweezers and removed the stinger, which from the throbbing pain I was feeling I was sure had to be the size of one of the Jolly Green Giant’s bowling pins but to my surprise was really tiny. My nose immediately began to turn red and swelled so big I looked like Jimmy Durante with a three-day tan (note to readers under 50, Jimmy Durante was a White comedian from the 60’s famous for having a nose the size of a MAC truck). I looked out the window across the fence into my neighbor’s yard and muttered to myself, “damn kids”…should have just watched that damn Monk episode on the DVR.