Small Cars and Big Women

“I don’t like small cars or real big women, but somehow I always find myself in them.” -Kid Rock

I am just the opposite. I love small cars and I love big women. I have never considered what others think is good when it comes to what my tastes are. This is a topic I will begin a regular segment on. Here is my first small car, big woman stamp of approval.

Small Car

The nissan Cube.

I think this little thing is cool as shit. I saw one on the streets the other day and couldn’t stop staring. It reminded me of the original Scion XB, which I love. If I could afford one I would seriously consider it. Its not for everyone. Nothing is. It has some drawbacks… can’t take my big girl on long trips comfortably. But this would be ‘my’ car. Sexy.

Big Woman

Toccara Jones

Listen. Without being disrespectful to my wife, this here woman is physically perfect. She might weigh 200 pounds or more and I could give a shit less. Whatever she weighs, a woman built like this is too much for some men. I am not one of them. She could put on more weight and I would still think she is sexy. Unmistakably femine. Sexy.

Hard work

His head hurt. It was thumping. Thunder and lightning outside didn’t help any. The clothes he wore were soaking wet. His hands were sore from forging his future. He probably should go now that the rain picked up. It didn’t seem to bother him the last four or five hours. Then it was just raining. Now there was lightning and lightening is nothing to play with. Nothing at all. He dragged himself back to the truck and climbed inside with a sigh. He greedily ate the sandwich he brough along and sighed loudly.

Soy Milk

The signs are there. I am getting old. When did it happen? How did it happen? I don’t know. But I am officially old now. I not only drink soymilk… but i caught myself drinking it willingly when there were OTHER options available to me. A funeral for my youth is scheduled for sometime this week.

Wanna know a secret?

Wanna know a secret? Wanna know several secrets? I know nothing about fantasy football. I mean nothing. When people talk about it I zone out and think about how much I loved my Green Machine Big Wheel.

*shrug*

Fantasy football? Is that like stratomatic baseball? And since I am being so honest I might as well admit I have never seen an ultimate fight or mixed martial arts or whatever it goes by. Yes I’m straight. Fuck you. I just never watched one. I have seen highlights. It looks cool and whatnot but I just havent been interested enough to make time for it in my tv schedule.

*shrug*

And another thing… I have never seen an episode of Lost. Yeah yeah I know I know. Someone I trust swears by it. In fact I have been told I need to watch the first two seasons even if that means buying it. (you mean with real money?) I dunno if anything on tv is worth buying…. while it’s still on the air?

*grimace*

And since we are bitching about something that doesnt matter… Let me say for the record that SPORTS is my reality show. I have never seen an episode of Survivor, Fat brides (and I love a pretty fat woman…), rich man seeks gold diggers, difficult pregnancy, help me raise my bad ass kids, please take my crazy ass wife and let me have yours… whatever the shows are.. I dont watch. I suppose I am still too close to drama to find other people’s drama worth sitting through.

Fuck that.

I admit I watched the first 3 seasons of the Real World but by season three when they threw Puck out the house I was convinced they were going to always toss out the one muthafucka in the house who wasnt about the bullshit that was popular in the house… Then, from what I could tell… they did the best they could to ’script’ it but putting volatile peoples in the same environment to create and maintain a false sense of conflict. Fuck that. Fuck that. Plus it gets old after a little while….

I was unfortunate enough to see an episode (my second by the way) of Bridezilla. Oh my!

I think they look for the clearest case of couples who won;t work out and who shouldnt be together and they follow around the bride to be as she is a terrible shit leading up to her wedding. I know it is probably being played up for the cameras but the crazy is high on the what the fuck meter. And I reminded my wife that some women make a huge mistake in thinking that because a man loves them and takes their shit, doesn’t mean he wont tire of it one day and leave.

I should pitch a show idea of the reality of the divorce. Follow the once bridezillas around 3 years later when that guy realizes that a woman might love you who isn’t nuttier than a christmas fruitcake dipped in peanut butter. Call it Divorcedzilla.

I’ll tell you one more secret. If these shows and ones like them went off the air I wouldn’t miss them at all. Unfortunately they are probably here to stay. That said, it wont be a secret anymore that at least one guy could give a fuck less.

In a hurry

The backend got sideways as he jumped off the clutch and punched it. The car got low and lurched forward like a cat that had it’s tail stepped on. It screamed like a cat too. A big ass mean fast moving angry cat.

Second gear. Tires squeal loudly. The beast under the hood growled as the red and blue lights start to fade in the rearview.

Third gear. Tires peeled again. Dipping and dodging in and out of the light sunday evening traffic like a kitten with it’s tail on fire. The engine purred loudly as he shifted smoothly.

Fourth gear. One hundred and ten and still accelerating. The blue lights were almost a distant memory. They must be stuck in traffic. His heart beat in tune with the pistons in the car as he watched the needle go as far to the right as it would go.

He was in a hurry and had to get where he was going.

Spades

In the background AL Green sang about love and happiness. In the kitchen a serious spades game was starting up. Tony and his new girlfriend Keesha were playing against Tony’s brother Drake and his wife Tasha. Drake took a drag off his Benson and Hedges.

“Now you know he gone dump you if you can’t play spades..”

“Stop that!” Tony said.

Tasha leaned over to Keesha and assured her, “Girl. He must like you. We never meet the new girlfriend this soon. Much less play spades! This must be the final test!” She smiled and tapped the table near Keesha’s hand.

“Yall need to go somewhere with that shit. Keesha. Watch them. They like to talk across the table. They have codes and shit.” Tony said while pointing to his eyes and then to hers.

“This how he knows if you down or not. Im telling you he won’t be calling you after this if you lose badly. You will loose badly so it has been nice meeting you.”

“Don’t pay him no nevermind girl.” Tasha said.

“I’m just playing. I’m serious but I’m kidding. But… I’m serious.”

“Don’t pay him no nevermind girl.”

“Oh and you better not renig. Think I’m playing? When we were kids we were playing our folks one day and I renigged and he didn’t speak to me for a week. He wouldn’t even look at me for three days. AND WE SHARED A ROOM! This fool slept on the couch he was so mad at me! See! See! Look at him! Not a peep out of him cause he know I ain’t lying!”

“Don’t pay him no nevermind girl. These two don’t get out much. You damn sure can’t take them nowhere.”

Keesha had been quite the whole time. She finally spoke up. “It’s O.K. I like shit talking spades players. Especially when they get beat bad!” Keesha laughed loudly.

“Awww shit! I like her already! Keep this one bruh. Keep her. Definately keep her. ESPECIALLY if she will keep coming back for this ass whuppin’!” He thumped his cards on the table and took his book.

“Girl. Can you play?” Tasha asked.

“We will see,” Keesha said smiling. She winked at Tony who looked nervous.He wanted her to like them. He wanted them to like her. But right now, he just wanted her to be able to back that shit up and be able to play spades.

Big Mama Syndrome

Above the deafening sounds of lost souls crying I can hear her heavy breathing. Breaths like she is in pain. Breaths like pleasure’s pulse. She is almost 40 but she could pass for 60. Her eyes are sunk back in her head like headlights after an accident. She grinds her teeth and winces in pain from carrying the weight of her world on her back. She has such a high pain threshold she didn’t even bother to see a doctor after her last heart attack. She didn’t even take a break from that low paying stressful job she hates so much. Why go see a doctor?

They will just give her more pills to take. Pills she can’t afford.Pills that she only takes sometimes because she says they make her sick. Doctors don’t know what they talking about anyway. They are like weathermen. Besides, according to them, she should already be dead.  There was that time when she had that stroke. And there was that time when her heart stopped beating.She had cheated death before and she wasn’t afraid to die.

But she is afraid to live.

She  is convinced she would be being selfish bought herself something nice for a change. She would be being selfish if she, in her mind, if she took a day off from either of her two full time jobs. She couldn’t take time off from her part time job of looking for other work!It would be wrong to take time off because who would take care of her family if she didn’t? Her life is a dirty glass of water with a twist of irony. Her children are adults. They should be taking care of themselves. Instead she works two jobs to support children who wont work at all.

A raggidy mess, stands dressed in cheap used clothes. The total sum of everything she is wearing cost less than the new shoes she buys her grandson every month. Eyeglasses and all. And yet this proud foolish woman eats Ramen everyday so she can give her 35 year old brother money for his daily cigarettes and beer. This unhealthy and tired woman holds together a family not worth holding.

Her please to the younger women to step up and assume the role of Queen Mother matriarch go unanswered. She suffers from Big Mama Syndrome. A heroic dedication to the continuation of a family concept that has gone the way of the milkman and black and white television. A concept whereby a strong woman, in the absence of a strong man, holds a family together like crazy glue while attempting to focus on the word ‘glue’ and ignore the word ‘crazy’.

And like any real hero, no one appreciates you and your selfless act until it is too late. Heros accept their role before others become aware that they are avoiding their own. Thats Big Mama.

Unable to convince the younger women to be gullible and accept this role. She cannot convince them to stop being self centered and think about everyone else for a while. She preaches and quotes scriptures and swears by the good that she feels in her heart. But she cannot get through to them, no matter how hard she tries. So she deflects. Maybe shame or fear will motivate them. THEY will ultimately be the reason the family falls apart. THEY didn’t get bitten by the Big Mama bug. This is the last generation for the Big Mama Syndrome.

Maybe just maybe they will live a life that isn’t about taking care of people who wont take care of themselves. Maybe they wont be worried about the lost souls around them. Maybe they wont be so worn down that they don’t look up when they cross that busy street and get hit by that bus.

Truth Be Told

I have been paying attention to the news cycle lately and truth be told I think the world is going crazy. I always figured as much really but it is getting harder to ignore it.

For instance, an 11 year old girl gets abducted and 18 years later emerges alive. I do not mean to belittle the horrible horrible shit this woman must have endured for years but she could have left and didn’t. At first I figure she wasn’t right in the head. She must have been brainwashed. Maybe one or the other. Maybe both. But then I got to thinking…. what if all the obvious things are true AND there was something else?

What if she thought leaving would be worse than staying… harder somehow… more of a risk…

Let me explain….

My mama live the first seventeen and a half years of her life in Mississippi then she moved to Chicago. After about a year, she never even wanted to go back. She has been once for a funeral and thats it. So my mama loves Chicago? Right? NO! She hates it. Hates it with all her heart. She is afraid for her safety. They sell dope where she lives. Every few days someone gets shot. She pretty much stays in the house. I have begged her to move to North Carolina. She has a boyfriend in Seattle. He has begged her to move there. She wont budge. She co0complains constantly about the weather, the filth, the noise from the train or the traffic or the airplanes. But when she visits me here in the country she cocomplains about how quite it is. She once called me at work at 5am to ask me what that noise outside her window was. Turned out it was birds chirping. And she w2as complaining…..

Maybe people adapt and accept what they must in order to live. I am not sure but there sure does seem to be a good deal of acceptance of things and truth be told it makes no sense to me.

I Been Tied Up

I been tied up all month. And not the, “Yes, Mami. I been bad Dulcina. Can I have another…” kinda way either. I wish… I been doing what I do, which is less than I should. I been hung up on questions and trying to handle the long list of things I have let pile up over the years. When you are off the grid for as long as I was, you tend to have a lot of old shit waiting for you when you get back. I sure did. A good part of this month has been spent being tied up the bad way. “Please NO! I WON’T DO IT AGAIN! THAT! Was fuckin uncalled for!”

I have beet trying to get on the ball with the taxman. He is hurting me right now and he wont even kiss it make it feel better. If you might listen I would suggest you never anger the tax people. They are the folks we used to bump as they passed puddles on the sidewalk so they would get wet. These are the same people we used to beat up because we were bored. Well. I take that back. These are the ones that were smarter than the ones who became cops.

Im not done with the tax folks. Im not. ANd Im not a cryer. I know that tax must be paid so schools can run shittily and so that streets dont sit with potholes forever. I also understand that the cats that run into fires to save Mr. Skittles and grandma get paid off tax revenue. I understand. So I dont mind paying whatever tax they say I owe. Problem is, they TAKE taxes. I dont pay them (EDITOR’S NOTE: This may well be a part of the problem. They take AND they say I owe…. Do one or the other but both is bleeding me…) They take tax. Some crazy percent. So I failed to file my returns.. I did not ask for my money back, of which I should have gotten a return by the way… and now somehow I OWE money? Ok. So I file. Gimme my refund. I could use it. What? I waited too long? Now I cant get it back? THEN WHY DID YOU MAKE ME FILE?

Ok children, Im cool. Look. I owed for 3 of the past 15 years. And between student loans and three years (less money than I didnt claim in returns by the way) back taxes, somehow Im a candidate for to be bent over and treated like a prisoner of war.

I wish it werent true but dragging my feet on the simplest of things has cost me and is costing me greatly. If you would listen to me I would say please file your taxes. Dont anger these ugly little people and dont expect the sister on the phone to NOT sound like she is doing you a favor by not ‘accidentally’ dropping your call and making you start all over. It turns out… she really is.

Black Weddings

I went to a stereotypical southern black wedding today. In keeping with a day full of stereotypes we arrived late and actually missed the wedding part. We did, however, make it for the reception. It wasn’t wild like the weddings I witnessed in Chicago as a child but it was quite a spectacle. My wife’s cousin was getting married to a man she has been with for the last ten years. “What took so long?”, the ladies will ask.

“Why now?” The men will ask.

Who the fuck knows. What I do know is that the wedding was very important to my wife’s cousin and so I insisted we go. Yeah. I suppose I am pretty whupped now a days. Fuck you. It makes my wife happy.Happy wife. Happy life.

We came. We saw. We were seen. I freaked my distant family out. Most of whom I do not know and have never met. Some mean looking bearded man in one of them moslem caps. Who is he with?

I’m with your cousin.

And if I would have been a younger, sharper, more aggressive version of myself… I would have gotten up on stage and grabbed the mic and spoke at length about the beauty of the joining of two peoples. And I would have spoken to the fact that not enough of us get married anymore and even some of those of us who do, don’t always honor our vows. And I would have been serious. Which, of course, is why it would have been so damn funny.

Anyway. I was allowed to be reminded that not everyone is suffering in this here bad economy. The rented venue was huge and quite impressive. The brides maids were dressed appropriately and no one looked like they were auditioning for the part of a pimp or a whore. Which was disappointing. I had hoped to see the latest creative way to have a seamstress make outfits with bootleg designer cloth. Maybe next time.