Bee About It

Inspiration is a funny thing.  Sometimes it's like being sucker-punched.  Other times it's like finding a twenty dollar bill in a pair of jeans.  I've made it my unofficial goal in life to seek out inspiration in what most would consider off-the-wall places.  For an example of this, read my piece entitled Holy Underwear.  

I work from home daily.  I am a lucky man indeed.  More often than not, you can find me doing my best Flipper imitation at the pool on my lunch hour.  While swimming around yesterday, I noticed a bee stranded in the water.  It was floating on the surface but I could tell the jig was almost up!  He was trying desperately to get out of the water.  He was not having any luck.  Normally, I wouldn't hesitate to put this stinging creature out of it's misery.  On this day, however, my curiosity got the best of me.  I decided to save the bee and observe his behavior once I got him back to dry land.  I know...I'm strange.   

I watched him for what must have been a good fifteen minutes.  I even managed to get a picture(see above).  He worked furiously to wipe away all the water from his body.  He took his time.  He worked very hard.  He was thorough.  He was persistent.  Lastly, he shook off what was left of the water and hit the open skies.  

The Bottom Line:

Even when life seems to be drowning you, accept a helping hand.  Work hard.  Bee thorough.  Bee persistent.  Bee patient.  Shake off what's drowning you and realize that the sky really is the limit! 

Fag

I recently discovered that I have an internal struggle.  No, I'm not coming out of the closet.  If you are reading this blog, you are about nine years too late for that story!  The struggle I'm speaking of is how offended I feel when straight people use the word "fag" as a way to insult other straight people.  It's taken me back to that mentality of... 'I can say it because I AM ONE'.  For example, African-Americans referring to themselves as 'Niggas'...  It's not really cool for white people to say it, unless of course you are a white rapper.  I also know Mexicans who refer to themselves as Wetbacks, but you wouldn't catch me saying it.  Even Jews have little reserve about self-depreciating humor.  It does seems like a double-standard to me.  At the same time, part of me feels like I've paid my 'gay dues'.  I feel I have the right to call someone a fag if I want, although I rarely call a straight person a fag; and I really only use the term with people that I know.  It occurs to me that if you are Black, or Jewish, or Mexican, or Gay, etc...you automatically get a pass to give derogatory terms your own meaning and power.  Maybe that way of thinking is wrong.  Maybe nobody should ever use derogatory terms, even among one's own "group".  

I'm not pretending to be on one side of this issue or the other.  I really am torn.  I absolutely believe in freedom of speech.  On the other hand, I am a firm believer in responsible speech.  Know your audience.  Show some respect.  I understand that some people discount the term "fag" because they've never had to experience the rejection, pain, hatred, or contempt that can go along with being openly gay.  Maybe it's just that it's too soon to be insensitive about it.  After all, while there is still racism in the world, the general struggle for basic rights is fading.  Gays in America are still in the middle of a fight to be treated as equals under the law.  Maybe 10...20...30 years from now the word fag won't carry the sting that it does right now.  Until then, I will always try to speak with my audience in mind. I will do my best to remember that I shouldn't discount any one group because of who they are or even what they believe.  It's not an easy task, as I do not agree with everyone about everything.  I do, however, always try to respect those I come into contact with...even if they are raging lunatics.  ;-)

Truth or Dare

I'm deep in thought on another inglorious Monday.  I'm thinking about the game...Truth or Dare.  If you've played this game a lot, you may have noticed a trend.  There are those who will almost always choose Truth and then there are those who will always choose Dare.  I've yet to meet a person who was equal parts dare and truth.  It just never seems to work out that way.

Many personal relationships are marred by a truth or dare mentality.  You have those people who will always tell you when you have a booger on your face or that you are way too fat to be wearing that.  Then there are those who call themselves friends but spend the entire relationship just daring you to discover that they have a hidden agenda.  Sometimes the agenda is romantic.  Sometimes it's convenience.  Every once in a while they turn out to be nothing less than your enemy.

Where does this fascination with playing games in relationships come from?  Why do we feel the need to play Truth or Dare with those we allegedly care about?  Shouldn't it always be truth?  Are relationships mostly based on lies and mutually accepted delusions?  (For you hard core Sex and the City fans, that last question will sound familiar.)  As a kid, I can remember being scolded by adults for being childish or immature or silly.  I'm beginning to think the children have it right.  Consider this, most little kids will simply look you in the face and tell you they don't like you...or to go away...or I don't want to play with you.  Adults on the other hand, will go to lunch with you, add you on their Facebook page, or even show up at your party.  When it comes to relationships, maybe we SHOULD be acting like children.  What would happen if we all were to partake in a brutal honesty week?  Oh...Em...Gee.  People's friends list would be slashed in half.  There could even be a fist fight!  All hell would break loose. The sad thing is, the only thing that seems to be "holding things together" is this sense of playing games.

What on earth could we accomplish with our newly found free time?  Cutting to the chase could add days or weeks of free time to your life.  With all the time not wasted on bullshitting with people in our lives we could learn a new language, go back to school, take up a hobby, or any number of productive and honest things.

The Bottom Line: There are worse things in life than being a mother-fucker.  Tell the truth.  Don't get caught up in the games that are all too easy to play.  If there is a giant booger on someone's face, for god's sake...TELL THEM!

My Life in Seven Boxes

Photo By - David Ross Jackson

It's a sunny and beautiful day here in Texas.  It's late January but you'd swear it was Spring outside.  Inside, things are a little more like Winter.  I will be starting a new chapter in life in the coming months.  While I look forward to what lies ahead, I can't help but think of the things I'm leaving behind.  Today, I prepared all the boxes filled with my kids toys, clothes, colorings, books, and other memories.  Soon, I will take them to my sister's home about four hours North of here.

For those of you who may not know, on the last day of June 2010, I relinquished the rights to my children.  I did this with the hope that they would be able to have a life free of the hatred and contempt their mother has for me. I wanted them to be have a childhood that does not make them feel as though they have to choose between Mom and Dad.  In the nearly nine years since their mother and I split, relations have become progressively worse.  This has made my children miserable and hurt them in ways that only two bitter parents could.  I won't pretend that everything was my ex-wife's fault.  It wasn't.  When it came time for us all to move forward, however, she was unwilling.  Working tirelessly to back me into a corner, she finally got her wish.  I couldn't, in good conscience, allow my kids to go through this torture any longer.

For seven months now, I could not bring myself to get rid of anything that belonged to my kids.  I still can't.  Even the smallest little stray Lego could not be thrown away.  My hope is that one day, I can open these seven boxes and show my children just how much they are loved.  I want them to know that no matter what has been said or done, they were always my life and my inspiration.  I felt it was necessary to put some distance between me and these boxes of memories.  I've been deeply hurt by all this.  I need time to heal...to grieve...to breathe.  I need a fresh start.  I need to see new dreams realized and leave behind all the sorrow that comes with the decision I felt I had to make.  Everything I've done since my children were born has been with them in mind.  That won't change.  I want to be ready to embrace them again one day.  I want to be strong and full of life for them.  These seven boxes, which represent my true love and my very soul, will be placed in a quiet and safe place somewhere in Oklahoma.  My love for my kids will remain with me at all times.  I will never forget the two loves of my life.  I will never forget my two blessings.  I will never forget their unconditional love for me.  I will never take for granted how I was forever changed from the inside out by the two most powerful forces I've ever encountered... my Solomon and Emiley.

When the heartache seems insurmountable and I feel as though I may die of a broken heart, I will remember that somewhere inside of me lives a love that will never die and never be changed...not by time nor circumstance.  It lives on forever and I will be forever grateful.  

A Cog in the Machine

My close personal friend Merriam Webster says that a cog is a tooth on the rim of a wheel or gear.  Metaphorically speaking, being a "cog in the machine" has not been considered a really great thing in the past.  Some have used the term to describe someone who is just an insignificant part of a larger entity...a nobody...a slave...a worker bee.  It was once said that a cog in the machine simply runs around in circles, gets worn out, and is then replaced.  

Aren't we all cogs? 

Kings...Queens...Executives...actors...bankers...Quakers...farmers...landscapers...burger-flippers...travel agents...poop scooper-uppers at the circus...we are ALL part of something larger.  We all perform our function to make something bigger happen.  Who is ever really at the top?  Sure, some of us are bigger cogs than others, but size isn't everything.  That's when it came to me...cogs are getting a bad wrap.   In fact, I think being a cog is the natural order of things.  We are all replaceable.  Every last one of us will "wear out" eventually.  We will all be replaced, displaced, or misplaced at some point in our existence. While we may feel like we are running around in circles and just getting worn out, think of it this way... You may be a cog in the machine but you can always chose the machine.  Our life is what we make it.  The cogs makes life happen all around us.  WE make life happen all around us.  We are all a part of something larger in life.  We all matter. 

The Bottom Line

It really does take all kinds of cogs to make the world turn.  We should all be proud cogs and realize that we can choose what kind of machine we want to be a part of.  That is liberation.  That is freedom. At the end of the day, we are all part of the biggest and most important machine ever made...Life.  Make your circles count.   

In Jesus Name We Pray, Gaymen!

As the first truly Autumn-ish day sweeps over the Dallas area, I am unable to pull myself away from all the Bishop Eddie Long commentary.  Let me start by saying that I understand that the allegations have not been proven true.  Even still, the subject of Pastors, Deacons, and church members getting it on with the same sex is still one that should be discussed.

I read though a brief opinion article by Shayne Lee an African-American professor of sociology at Tulane University.  You can read the article for yourself here.  He seems to focus on race, which I'm sorry to say, is not only a bore, but a cop-out.  As a gay man and former minister of both music and youth, I can assure you I am well aware of the amount of energy that goes into bashing homosexuals from the pulpit to the pew in both "black" churches as well as "white" ones.  I can also tell you that there is more gay sex going on between church members than one might be led to believe and race really doesn't matter.  I've been to all manner of churches in my life.  The White folks are doing it; but as long as you show up for church on time with your wife and kids nobody really talks about it.  The Black folks are doing it on the DL(down-low) and then screaming at the top of their lungs about how gays have a first class non-refundable airline ticket to hell, followed by reservations at Chateau a la Sulfur.  Black...White... Martian...it makes no difference   The church is made up of people.  Some people are gay... therefore, gay people WILL be in your church.  A homo was probably sitting a few rows over checking you out this past Sunday.  LOL

I just wonder how many priests, pastors, deacons, bishops, mega-church maniacs, and closet-case music ministers it will take before people wake up and realize that the church is NOT above it all.  It's the words, thoughts, and actions of men like Ted Haggard and Eddie Long(guilty or not) that disillusion people of faith all over the world.  Alleged men and women of god are preaching hateful messages while secretly "gaying" it up in the sack.  It's really all about realizing that god, whoever that is to you, created us all.  God knows better than anyone what is going on.  You think it may be possible that god loves us all?  I mean really...thousands of years of oppression and hypocrites and scandals and wars...for all that, we are no closer to god than we ever were.   

 The Bottom Line:
Gay St. and Church St. are the same road known by two names.  Stop all the hate and hypocrisy.  It is time the church take a detour to Love Blvd. and for once, live up to god's message of unconditional love.  

The Life of a Fly

When I open my front door to let in the fresh air and sunshine, I can't help but be prepared for the attack of the flies.  They seem to be everywhere these days.  They are buzzing in my windows at home.  They are at the restaurant where I eat.  Every once in a while, they even take a car ride with me.  Then, as I walked along the sidewalk in a Dallas neighborhood this past Saturday, I saw a group of flies all nestled on what had to be the largest turd EVER.  I wanted to barf.

Once my disgust subsided, I began to ponder the life of a fly.  Yes, I'm strange like that.  I thought to myself that here is an insect, a being, if you will, that is constantly hunted and swatted at.  Some of them narrowly escape instant death while others are not so lucky.  They spend their lives feeding on things that would make even the most macho of men gag.  They are hated.  They are despised.  They have been labeled by society as one of the worst creations.  There are entire industries built upon the effort to wipe them out.  Even with all of world conspiring against them, they find a way to leave their mark.  They find a way to survive.  They literally make the best of a shitty situation.

That's when it occurred to me that we should all strive to be a little more like flies.  Obviously I'm not advocating a literal application here, but think about it...  Obstacles don't really matter to a fly.  Their persistence is unmatched.  They find ways to survive and prosper all while working with the worst resources in life.  There is something to be said for trying to find parallels in strange places.

The Bottom Line:
The next time life hands you a gigantic pile of shit, make a shit sandwich and keep on dodging the fly-swatter at all costs!  With a little fly-like determination, anything is possible!

Part-time Patriots

As the sun sets on yet another Memorial Day, I find myself wondering just how patriotic we really are.  It strikes me as a little odd how uptight some people can get about this particular holiday.  Everyone wants to wave the flag.  Everyone wants to claim their military family heritage.  People make it a point to be proud, verging on obnoxious and boastful, when it comes to their military ties.  Then there the other 364 days of the year...

I was chastised by a "friend" this morning about referring to Memorial Day as perhaps, the unofficial "white-trash" holiday.  (I feel at liberty to use the term white-trash without hesitation, as I am part Scottish-American.  These are also the same type of people I spent a great deal of my life with.)  The statement was meant to be an observation and had nothing at all to do with the military.  It was very tongue-in-cheek, but apparently some of us lose all sense of humor once a year.  I don't know, maybe the comment struck a little too close to home.  This friend started going on about the fact that a family member was in the military and their father and their father's father...etc...  In the two years I've know this person, I've never once discussed or been made aware of any family service to our country.  This lead me to realize how part-time some people's patriotism is.  It's a strange concept to me that so many only get "fired up" about their country on holidays.  These are the same folks who sit by the rest of the year and have nothing of value to add to political evolution, learning, or debate.  They grab their Starbucks, head to work, and plan their next major beer bash or Super Bowl party; all the while never trying to affect change that would honor the men and women of the armed forces.

The Bottom Line:
It's convenient and perhaps even a bit stylish to wear the flag on your back for major patriotic holidays, but what's the point if you do nothing the rest of the year?  Though one person got all bent out of shape over my holiday observation, they failed to remember that the brave men and women fight not just for their freedom to be part-time patriots, but for my freedom to say what I wish.  That's something to be proud of.  Let's not forget that every day should be a Memorial Day.  We should live our lives in a way that honors our brave men and women all the time, not just on Memorial Day.

Family Fallout

What happens when you are born into a family that is destined to fail?  Where do you go to find that sense of tradition and heritage?  I think back to my own family history and the answers to those questions seem further away than ever.  I was born into family "fallout", somewhere between belonging and not.  I'm the bastard son of my mom and my dad who were dating at the time.  My dad, who is African-American, was secretly married to an African-American woman.  He had a family of his own and a penchant for affairs with white women.  He would never marry a white woman though, because he is too much of a coward.   As daring as his affairs were, he wasn't daring enough to keep honest relationships.  My mother, on the other hand, was a divorcée with three children from that marriage.  They were Anglo.  I mention race because it plays a huge role in my life, as it relates to family.

When I was born, my mother still used her married last name.  My father was listed as such on the birth certificate but I was given my mothers married last name.  At some point, my mother decided I should go by my father's last name and proceed to use it regularly.  It wasn't until I was a teenager that she requested that it be legally changed.  Though a judge signed a name change order as a part of child support hearings, she never had my birth certificate changed.  To this day I am legally somewhere in between Ross and Jackson.

To complicate matters, I am the only child from either side of my family that is of mixed race.  I'm not Black.  I'm definitely not White.  I'm just me.  It's a shame how we lose ambiguity as we become adults.  The fog lifts and suddenly we see the world for what it really is...Black or White.  I was raised around "white" people and until I started trying to date, I felt no different than those around me.

I don't communicate with my father or his side of the family anymore.  There was a time where I tried but for my "black siblings", I think I represented their father's unfaithfulness and the damage that was inflicted upon their family by all his whorish behavior.  They were very polite but never put much effort into getting to know me.  I can't say I blame them.  My mother's side of the family is another story.  I was very close to my two sisters growing up.  I couldn't have asked for better sisters.  My brother spent most of his time at his father's place so we really didn't get to know each other until recently.  My relationship with my sisters has changed dramatically over the past several years.  I'm not sure why or how this has happened.  There was no definitive event that took place.  There has been no feud.  I honestly believe it's just our family "nature" taking it's course.  It's sad to see how far we have all drifted apart.  We barely speak, although I have made the majority of the effort to keep in touch.  They live in Oklahoma and travel here often to see friends and family(I'm not in that equation apparently).  The state of the "union" is not great.

After reading on Facebook about yet another trip here to Texas , one that I had no clue was happening, I decided to delete my siblings from Facebook.  I don't need a daily reminder that I am being ignored by my so-called family.  I'd rather not know they were in town at all if they won't bother to pick up the phone and let me know.  I've been relegated to a common Facebook acquaintance and as stupid as it sounds, it hurts.

The Bottom Line:

There are about twenty definitions of the word family in the dictionary.  The one that I find most intriguing is the definition as related to math (shown below).

Mathematics:

a given class of solutions of the same basic equation, differing from one another only by the different values assigned to the constants in the equation.

I realize now that we are all just "solutions" of the same basic equation.  We all have different values.  I see that it's time for me to release my understanding of the word Family and move on.  While there will always be the pain of "what could could have been", there is no sense in ignoring definitions that make more sense than the ones I've been using for years.  It's time for me to seek out those people that have the same values and build lasting relationships.  I always love a good math problem for any relationship woe.  

Verbose or Wordful?

As I ponder my own place in the wonderful market-place of words, I can't help but wonder how many different ways there are to say the same thing.  Someone I know jokingly described himself as "wordful", which made me laugh out loud.  It's funny to me, that's funny weird...not funny ha-ha, how so many people use all kinds of words to say the very same thing.  We use words for more than just relaying information.  We use words to prove points, convey emotions, to uplift, to condemn, to play games, to defend, and to attack.


Word are given even greater power when paired with sound or tone of voice.  Words are curious things.  Words were "created" to help us understand and communicate, yet I find that sometimes words do just the opposite.  Words can be too vague or general for us to understand the true meaning behind them.  Sometimes words just get in the way all together.  I find in many cases, when it comes to words, less truly is more.  I think maybe that's why I like music so much.  It's short on words for the most part and long on composition and complex simplicity...if there is such a thing.  :-)

The Bottom Line
The next time you find yourself bogged down in a war of words, just shut up and turn on some music.  It will make everything right as rain.

Home Sweet Home

http://www.udr.com/

Nearly two years ago, I moved to my current apartment community.  I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting the only male in the office at the time.  He was snide.  He over compensated for being a straight man in an increasingly gay male profession by flirting with any woman who entered the room.  He was rude. He was juvenile.  He got my UDR relationship off on a sour note.  It was like one of those really bad American Idol audition clips that we have all grown to love.  My prayers were answered early on as this delight of a man moved away to Austin.  I don't recall his name because I had a medical procedure done to block it from my memory permanently.

Then there was James...

James didn't really get a fair shake from me because of that Neanderthal that ended up in Austin.  I figured James was Neanderthal Jr. and would typically steer clear of dealing with him. As fate would have it, there were several times I was forced to deal with James because there was simply nobody else to help me.  I started to realize that James might be OK.  He seemed interested in what I had to say for one thing.  That's always a GREAT way to start.  Then he did something else that took me by surprise.  He followed up.  While that may seem like a really lame thing to be surprised by, the apartment leasing world has changed for the worse over the years.  I've lived in apartments all my life.  I've seen just about every type of leasing "professional" you could imagine.  The chance that one of them would follow up with you on an issue or question is about as great as the chance that you would be hit by a truck-driving nun in a school-zone situated in an all Baptist community.  Let's just say that today's leasing professionals don't exactly measure up all the time.  James has always followed up with me.  If he doesn't have an answer...he gets one.

While all this is noteworthy, there is something that sets James apart from even the rest of the staff here in my community.  He has the uncanny ability of "knowing his audience".  He is able to assess WHO he is talking to and engage them in a manner that shows them that he's paying attention.  When he needs to speak slowly and with regard for his words...he does.  When he needs to "be real" and talk to you straight...he can.  When he knows you need a laugh...he makes you smile.  I've personally witnessed him in action.  He is keenly aware of who he is talking to and is able to present himself just as that person needs him to be presented.  This is a quality that is rare.  Most people are only satisfied with coming to terms with how they interact with others.  It's not often that you find those perceptive people who are willing to meet others half way in order to better communicate and build trust.

UDR should be taking notes.  James has a lot to offer any employer.  His abilities make him priceless.  In case you were wondering, I do not know James.  I don't even know his last name.  There is nothing in it for me except the pleasure of being able to brag on someone who is doing a stellar job at treating people like...well...people.  It's timeless.  It's classic.  It NEVER goes out of style.  James should be considered the "new black" in apartment leasing.  Every apartment community should have a James "hanging in the closet".  He goes with everything.

James:  I appreciate you for treating me like a person and not a lease.  I appreciate you caring enough to stay late on a Sunday to update me on an issue I was having with trespassers.  I appreciate you always taking the time to get back to me.  I appreciate you always going above and beyond for even the smallest things.  I wanted to take the time to say thank you and to make sure that everyone knows what a great person and great professional you really are.  It's because of your efforts that I continue to call my apartment...home.  UDR is lucky to have you.

Sincerely,

David by the pool.  :-)

Politics As Usual

While you may think that this is my lame attempt at a Democratic smear campaign against the newly-elected Republican Senator Scott Brown of  Massachusetts, you'd be way off the mark.  I was not inspired by politics in the sense that you might expect. I was, however, shocked by the glaring double-standard represented in the photo above.

Had this been a female political candidate pictured above, not only would it be front page news, it would be reason enough to sway the vote...and NOT in her favor.  Scott Brown poses nude back in the day and he's called a "beef-cake" or "America's Sexiest Man".  Any female trying to be taken seriously in the political realm would have been labeled as someone having poor judgement or worse.  Every detail of the woman's life and choices would have have been scrutinized by pundits far and wide.  She'd have to explain her reasoning for doing the photo shoot.  She'd be made to dissect every detail leading up to the photo.  All her other decisions would be called into question because of the photo.  It makes me angry that we still live in a world where Hillary Clinton gets talked about for showing a tiny bit of cleavage on the floor of the Senate.  Scott Brown, on the other hand, doesn't really have his judgement questioned at all for posing nude.  For all the Republicans out there... let me give you an example you can relate to.  Sarah Palin... While I am not a fan, I do feel like she was overly scrutinized by the media in a very sexist way.  She was a beauty queen...made top news.  She was photoshopped into a bikini, then had to explain that it wasn't her.  She was referred to as a "m.i.l.f.".  The talk about what she was wearing was endless.  This is the type of sexist ignorance that this country still thrives on and it's truly sad.

The Bottom Line: 

The world we live in makes unrealistic demands of it's women.  We want to hold women to a higher standard but don't want to empower them to be anything other than centerfolds.  This country lauds it's progressive culture but is responsible for holding women back.  The men in this country who are responsible for the culture of "the boys" should try holding themselves to this other-worldly standard for once.  After all...it's mostly men who are making a mess of this country...last time I checked.

Reflections snoitcelfeR

Girl Before A Mirror (1932)  -  Pablo Picasso

As I sat at a glass table outside today, I couldn't help but notice the grand reflection of the mid-day sky.  It made me think about reflections in general and their parallels to everyday life.  Not only is it possible to see yourself in a reflection but it's also possible to see what's behind you.  It's that "behind you" part that really started to grab my attention.  In life, is what's behind us even more important that what's to come...or what is happening now?  There are many schools of thought about "the past" and if one should spend time dwelling on it or learning from it and so on. While I feel as though there should be a balance in all things, I wonder how good it is to revisit the past.

It also occurs to me that if we spend all our time looking behind us, that we can miss ourselves in the reflection...hell, we can miss the actual mirror itself!  Maybe the point of life's reflections is that we spend time looking at everything reflected in the mirror making sure not to forget the importance of the reflection we see or the importance of having a mirror in the first place.  After all...with out life (the mirror), there really are no reflections(self and experiences).  

Mirror mirror on the wall...

Negro Nation

Head of a Negro - By Albrecht Durer 1508

As a man of African-American descent, I am confounded by all the drama over race in America.  On the one hand, we are one of THE most liberal nations in the world.  On the other, we are Iran.  Think about it.  We live in a hyper-sensitive, racism-infused culture where people like Sen. Harry Reid are blasted for saying what MANY of us in the world (black, white, or other) were already thinking.

The Statement: President Obama would win over John McCain, because he is "light skinned" and has no "Negro dialect."

While I would not have used the term Negro, we have to remember that Harry Reid is about 150 years old and much more familiar with that term than any other.  I believe he made the statement in the same vein as Asian people being called Orientals.  The terms have all been changed but the meanings are really still the same.  I've said for a long time that the reason people like Jesse Jackson could not win a bid for President is because he was too "black".  I am, however, much more direct when it comes to these type statements.  Jesse Jackson doesn't relate to the majority.  We all know that candidates are elected, to some degree, because of their ability to connect with the American people.  If we think otherwise we are kidding ourselves.  With Jackson, everything is about being black.  Well, in the real world, not every damn thing is about being black.  Sen. Reid's comments about President Obama's lack of Negro dialect is TRUTH.  We speak English in this country, not Ebonics.  Barack Obama shows a stunning level of intellect and eloquence that is evidenced by his CHOICE to speak in an articulate manner.  Notice the word CHOICE.  Ebonics or "Negro dialect" is a choice.  While I see nothing wrong with it, there is a time and a place for it.  Does this mean President Obama can't be "ghetto" when he wants to be?  No.  He's can do that.  He should do that.  It's high time that everyone quit making everything about race and start moving on from this political correctness garbage that is about as genuine as costume jewelry.  We are a nation of people who say what we are supposed to say instead of the truth.  We continue to lie to ourselves.  Is there genuine racism?  Of course.  Should that be tolerated?  No.  Harry Reid wasn't being racist.  He was making what is actually a very good observation about American culture.  I think some people are just bent out of shape because the truth can hurt.  I can't wait to live in a world where white people can talk about black topics without Al Sharpton reminding us all that "we" used to be slaves.  I wasn't on the Mayflower.  I wasn't a slave.  I am NOT a slave.  While I have and probably will always run into racism now and then, I refuse to be defined by it.  I will never forget the profound sacrifices of people like Rosa Parks or Martin Luther King.  I will always appreciate the terrible price that was paid by my ancestors.  In contrast, I will not live in a "me versus the white man" world which is neatly manicured by people like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton.

The Bottom Line:
I am sad to see people like Harry Reid forced to apologize for speaking the truth.  It saddens me more to see others use the opportunity to label someone as a racist who is not.  This was a Negro nation before Barack Obama and will be well after he is gone.  Negroes will always be a part of this nation's great (and not-so-great) history.    Just like the Jokers in a deck of cards... there are only certain games in which the cards can even be played.  It's time to take the Race cards out of the deck and start enjoying the game.

I'm Terrified That Terror Will Terrorize Me Until I'm Terrified Of Being Terrorless

My wish  for the new year is that the word "terror" be banned for ALL TIME.  I can't go anywhere without hearing or reading the word.  Everything is "terror".  Terror...terror...terror.  A child hits someone on the playground...terror.  Someone cuts in line at the grocery store...terror.  Late on your rent?  Terror.  Give me a BREAK.  Not every single thing that happens is terror.  Just like the fact that not everyone who attacks a pope is "mentally unstable", as the Vatican would have you believe.  Some people are just bad. Some are just plain old bastards.  I fear that soon everything will be labeled terror.  Once we start labeling any and every thing as terror then we can all be held without being charged as an "enemy combatant".  Is that what we really want?  It's sad to see the resurgence of this ridiculous blanket term in the media and beyond.  I'm sick and tired of "the world" trying to scare the shit out of me at every turn.  So the next time you see someone pull something out of his underwear on a flight, just beat his or her ASS, then sit back down and enjoy your peanuts.  There is NO need to be filled with terror all the time.

The bottom line:

There is nothing to fear but fear itself.

The Big Kiss Off

I love how shocked everyone is over this ridiculous "in the moment"(in the moment my ass) American Music Award kiss.  Did anyone really expect Adam Lambert to act differently?  Be serious.  He's been a pair of boobs away from a drag queen for almost a year now!  Let's get something out of the way before we go any further.

I do not care for Adam Lambert as a person.  I don't think he's the best representative of the gay community.  He tries to dismiss the fact that he's a role model but he is...like it or not.  I guess that's what people want to see because that's the kind of person we keep putting out there.

That said, I do believe that he has a point about an entertainment double standard.  As a society we have far less of a problem watching Madonna, Britney, and Christina share a lesbian moment on an award show.  Oh, but let one pseudo famous gay guy decide to kiss his band member and people are crying into their AMA popcorn.  Give me a break.  In a country where sex between straight people is a multi-billion dollar industry and on-screen romps are commonplace (even in daytime), this should not surprise anyone.  Let's not get our underwear in a twist because of a gay kiss.  Gays are not going away and in fact are becoming more high profile every day.  It's a fact of life.  Get over it already.  To those who will belly-ache about their children seeing that...quit trying to pretend that your child will never or can never, know, go to school with, date, be friends with, or meet a gay person.  Instead, how about you teach your children that some boys and girls are different that way.  Then maybe you can skip the whole "shock and awe" routine when your child happens upon a gay moment somewhere.

The Bottom Line:
While I don't really care for Adam Lambert, I am glad he took his little political stand.   After a year of states bashing gay marriage, gay rights, and everything else that is "gay", it was nice to see someone just go out and be who they wanted to be...for all the world to see.  I believe it was equal parts gimmick and protest.  He gets an B for effort though.  He also gets an A for that kiss!  Wowza!

Hate This!

To All The Haters...

I know who is responsible for the recent hateful comments left on my blog and your ignorance will no longer be tolerated here. It's a shame that you don't have the courage or character to post your comments under anything other than "anonymous". Your comments have been removed and security measures are now in place to prevent your hateful rhetoric in the future. It's a shame that so many small-minded people still get to walk this earth each and every day spreading hate and intolerance to everyone they possibly can.

While I believe in free speech, I also believe in appropriate behavior. If you want to hate on me because I have a down moment and wish to question MY LIFE, then you are sadder than any post I could ever create. My blog represents my ideals and opinions. Like it or not, I am entitled to that. I will not accept hatred from those who wish to silence me because something I say may reflect poorly upon them. I will not be dissuaded from expressing my views. I will not be bullied by my ex-wife Sandra Renee Bullard, her husband Bart Bullard, or anyone else from their circle of religious bigots.

I will take my life's journey in my way. I will express what I feel I need to. If you don't like it, then I suggest you stop stalking my every word online. You can hate on me all you want, but I will not apologize for my life, my words, my choices, or my thoughts.


Hate This!


Stay Free!

Black Barbie B.S.

So I'm reading up on the black Barbie collection just released by Mattel. There are people actually complaining that the Barbie is not black enough! These same people are saying she needs to have more natural hair or braids. Are we kidding here? I can count on one hand how many black women I know who wear their hair naturally. Better yet, most of the black women I know wear damn wigs or weave!!! I think all these ultra Afrocentric people need to give it a rest. Barbie has NEVER...EVER...EVER...been about representing a natural beauty...EVER. She's never really been fat. She's never been ugly. Barbie is a TOY. Get over it. If Mattel were to make her look like a Pamela Anderson amputee, that's their business. When did we all get so politically correct? For all the haters of the new Black Barbie: If you don't like it, make your own damn doll!

If people are relying on dolls to teach self-respect and pride, there is something very wrong with that. Parents, let the little girls (or boys) play with the dolls they want and BE the example that you believe they should see. It's that simple.

For the record, I don't believe there is anything wrong with wigs, perms, tracks, weave, new growth, natural hair, or any other kind of hair. So get up out black Barbie's Kool-Aid and quit trippin'!

Sunspot - Perfect Imperfection

I call this collection Sunspot because the white image in the background is an actual photo of the Sun. In some of these photos you can see sunspots to the left(smaller) or the right(larger). The human form in these photos is mine. I found it intriguing that both the Sun and Humans have imperfections that are not a detriment and can actually be a thing of beauty. A sunspot, by definition, is an area on the surface of the Sun that has intense magnetic activity. These imperfections produce the following phenomena:

Areas of reduced temperature on the surface of the Sun, which I compare to Humans who exhibit grace under fire...

Beautiful and elegant light formations called Coronal Loops, which I compare to Human creativity...

Solar Flares, that release tremendous amounts of energy which have far reaching effects. I compare this to the Human Spirit, which can deliver someone out of the darkest places in life while forever changing future generations.

The moral of this photographic story is... Don't shy away from your imperfections. They can make you a thing of beauty if you let them. I hope you enjoy. See the photos below...

Time & Punishment

Do you ever have one of those moments where you start to wonder if perhaps you are being punished for something you've done? Having wondered that...ever have a hard time figuring out what the hell that might have been? I know I do.

In January 2010 it will have been 7 years since I left my ex-wife, an idea that we both agreed was best. Since then, I have struggled in every way imaginable. My ex-wife has struggled to let go of the past. My kids have struggled more than any of us. They struggle to understand why things are different now. They struggle with hearing two versions of how the world turns. They get the narrow-minded, bigoted version with their mother and step-dad. They get the "realist" version from me.

I won't pretend that my decision to come out as a gay man hasn't come at a high price. It was, however, less about being gay and more about being honest with myself and everyone else in my life. Fast forward to today... I can't help but wonder if I am paying too high a price for that decision. Am I being punished for trying to lead an honest life? Sometimes it seems like the criminals in this world are the only ones who really enjoy life. Should I have kept lying? I feel like the answer to this line of questioning is a big fat NO...but I feel like I've served my time. I've taken my punishment. When is it time for me to join the land of the living again?

They say Karma is a bitch. I'm starting to think she's a bitch with the memory of an elephant. I need Karma to give me a damn break. I am not asking to get away with anything. I'm not asking that the effects of my decisions be wiped away for all time. I am being very realistic here...after all, I am a Virgo. I just want to take this moment to appeal to Karma and let her know...

I don't want to be wealthy. I just want to be able to provide for myself and my kids and be OK.

I don't want the romance of the ages. I just want to meet someone who is honest, loving, faithful, and sexy...not Gilles Marini sexy...but cute. I don't think that's too much to ask...is it?

I don't want a McMansion. I just want a home or apartment with room enough for me and my children.

I don't want the chauffeur driven limo. I just want something dependable that won't embarrass me or my kids while we are driving around. :-)

At any rate, I don't believe I want too much. I don't believe I want more than I deserve. I just have this nagging feeling that Karma has other designs on what my sentence should be. I can only hope for a little credit for good behavior to help get me out of what can only be described as jail.