Saturday, June 18, 2016

Yes, There Is Life Following the Control Room

Damn, I wasted four years of my life. What was supposed to be a summer job until school started back up the following year became this – a steady check, empty promises, acknowledging another dead end, and feeling more burned-out than I was when I came out here. Am I really a sucker for punishment or what!

I really need a break. Might as well take advantage of it now before I age out of some roles.

This brings me to a crossroads:  Where do I go? What do I do? How do I get there?

As I enter middle age, I know I cannot jump around from one gig to another because it won’t give my 401K time to grow for what is unlikely to happen:  my retirement from the workforce.  I know I get bored easily, so where’s the challenge and the money that comes along with it?  Worse, I have worked the night shift since I moved back south nine years ago – an infinity ago, it seemed like I had the world in my palms. Today, that pixie dust has blown away to a reality of groveling to idiots who do not believe in complete sentences and are strangely intimidated by educated brothers. I cannot stress enough to senior management that I do not want their positions! I’ll gladly take their paychecks, though.

My side hustle isn’t going to pay all of the bills yet. Once it does, then I can finally tell the Man to kiss my black ass! I’m doing what I love not the BS that paid just enough to get by.
But before I chunk the deuces to this dead end once and for all, I have to set a contingency plan in place. Beyond the “f**k-it” fund, some other things have to be in place such as a reasonable family health insurance plan [about a year and a half ago, I briefly glimpsed at getting Obamacare for us. Because it was slightly higher than my employer’s plan, I stayed where I was. Today is different] and having the means to maintain our lifestyle. We aren’t wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, yet saving for a rainy day is what has gotten us this far. Below are some other noteworthy questions to consider:  

·         Am I ready to be fully committed to self-employment?
·         If I have to work for someone else, are the challenges to compensation ratio fair enough?
·         Am I required to be figuratively tied to the clock or phone?
·         Will I have Sundays off?
·         Are promotions handled in-house or strictly external hires? What are the chances of advancement – or lateral movement - within the organization?
·         What does the culture look like? I’m looking for genuine emotions, not varying shades of faces that may be dissatisfied in his or her roles.
·         Are my past experiences valued?
·         Does favoritism exist?


When the job feels more like work study than anything worth telling people about, then it is time to get out. Every step in our working lives is a means to something else; why remain stagnant in a place where we aren’t appreciated? 

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

With God, Relationship > Religion

Does anyone want to know why people are turning from the church in droves? Hint:  It’s not the lyrics from that Belly song (“Might Not”, featuring The Weeknd) we discussed in Bible study recently although it is an example of what we have become over the course of the past few decades. It’s the perceived – and actual – political hatred, racism, judgmentalism, bigotry, and homophobia that hide behind the loving guise of Christianity that Christ intended and the lack of authenticity within our churches. We put on our best faces every Sunday morning and Wednesday night and for those of us in leadership positions, include Saturday mornings and any other times the doors of the church are open to mask our true feelings.

She told me no religion was the new religion
She said she don’t believe in God but her shoes Christian
-         Belly, “Might Not” featuring The Weeknd

The track has a catchy beat, but it is telling the listener that the pursuit of materialism is acceptable.

In effect, we are living a façade of what we think the Church really is.

Having survived the SEC Primaries back in March 2016 and all of the ensuing bombardment of political advertisements and signs everywhere – on television, at major intersections, on highly visible billboards, and infinite endorsements of candidates who either openly placate for votes (the Democrats) or conveniently ignore (the Republicans), no one slows down enough to consider the consequences of our decisions unless it comes from the closeminded worldviews that many of us so frequently ascribe to and promote as if it were the greatest thing since Wonder Bread.

Many Sundays, it is a miracle if our churches are more interested in the real business of soul-saving than standing at the front of every hot-button social issue that can either tear us apart or classify us as hypocrites.

We’ve heard the dog whistles often from the most ignorant among us:  I’m a hard working real American; abort socialism; stand with Israel; and the like. Considering they have no idea of what socialism really is and which Israel we are supporting (they endorse the 1948 state that was established, not the one the Bible has described since the days of Moses’ exodus from Egypt and Jesus’ disappearance in the early days of His ministry), I find it easy to take their hollow words like the dust from my Polo boots:  shake it off.

Earth to those Americans:  I’m also hardworking and educated enough with a prism wider than the fifty mile radius of my hometown to know better than fall for smallminded mentalities. Plus, my ancestors built this great nation for free:  Now who can tell me about hardworking? The more appropriate reply should be “I’m a hardworking human being” as it removes the imperially myopic view promoted by nationalists. We can be proud of who and what we are and where we live, but do not allow for its supremacy to predominate your relationships with God and our fellow man.  

If Christianity is often equated to racism, judgmentalism, homophobia, political hatred, bigotry, and all sorts of hypocrisy, then why would a nonbeliever commit? They see us with the Christian affiliation and dismiss it because of the unspoken things we are perceived to symbolize. To them, they do not see that we are regular people set apart trying to live an upright way that can be life-changing and fun; we are a bunch of stiffs who hold ourselves to outdated, rigid man-made rules that no one truly follows.

A Christian who tells Muslims and Mexicans to leave our country is no better than the ones who spit on the Little Rock Nine or poured hot coffee on the young black men and women who dared to sit in at counters throughout the South or sent Asian-Americans to internment camps such as the one in Rowher.  Likewise for those who still think President Obama is a Muslim (what does it matter in the first place? He’s a black Christian, just not in the stereotypical vein we are so familiar with a la Jessie Jackson) and forwards on memes depicting the First Family as monkeys and other animals. Keep in mind the United States of America is a nation of immigrants who either voluntarily left bad situations or were forced across the Atlantic Ocean into slavery and the subsequent racism – our nation’s original sin.

Even so, those who claim “I’m a Christian” and live converse to what Christ has taught is truly not of the faith, as they are most comfortable hiding behind the curtains of religion and pointing fingers at those of us who are actually trying to pattern our lives to His model.

I teach a new members’ orientation class at our church one Saturday every month and when that question has been broached, I will cite Biblical examples to answer the questions with love and concern – not everyone will move beyond “because I said so.” Any question is a good question, and if I cannot immediately come up with a response, I’ll tell them that I will find out and give an appropriate solution.

Where do we fail people? When we allow religion to trump relationship.

As we sit high and mighty on those padded pews for a few hours every Sunday morning gossiping about the deacons’ off-key singing or praying for too long or what the pastor just said about them or who in the choir isn’t matching or the refusal to tithe, what message are we conveying to those folks who are outside standing in the need of prayer or oblivious to a Savior who has their backs?

That is where faking the funk must cease.

Our physical churches, synagogues, mosques, and other religious centers (the majority are 501(c)(3)-protected from taxes) are the places we come together to worship yet beyond those few hours, what are they doing for the community the rest of the time? Are we as vested in our food pantry ministries as we are in having the building temperature a cool 68 degrees? Do we have skin in outreach not limited to the nursing homes, hospitals, and jails? What we were taught as children – and often question as adults – is not to live a life of service rather this Christian journey is one big ol’ country club which expects people to kowtow to our wants, needs, and requests at the snap of two fingers. That isn’t WWJD. He hung out with tax collectors, prostitutes, outcasts of every stripe, and what we would today consider losers. Those who thought they had it together were the ones Jesus considered hypocrites. We got caught up in singing about streets paved in gold, yet we’re still here driving through here knocking out our spiritual alignments in every pot hole and killing small rodents (armadillos, raccoons, etc.) on the highway of life solely because we do not notice their presence enough to share the road or the very least, slow down and let them pass.

Our affiliations must not cement our reputations as unwieldy, selfish hypocrites or as extensions of the government. We have a separation of church and state for a reason. For example, I attended a church several years ago who conducted its business meetings with members invoking the “Yes we can!” slogan as they entered the sanctuary only to be silenced when the accounting did not add up. Ditto for the congregations who are against homosexuality yet feign ignorance if the associate minister is sleeping around with half of the congregation  or openly exclaim praises if a political opponent passes away as he or she lionizes their own party’s onetime leader.

I’m sorry y’all, but TD Jakes isn’t getting us into heaven. Neither is Farrakhan. Rev. Billy Graham and Joel Osteen aren’t punching our cards for eternal paradise for us. Kirk Franklin and Sonic Flood may stomp or sing of our love forever, but where is our praise and authentic worship? This is why we must have a relationship with God instead of living with a fervent idolatry of a religion.

Remember the Pharisees and Sadducees that Jesus nailed at every angle? When we live in a supposedly supreme state of spirituality, we also become more like them and less of what the ministry requires of us. Hate and ratchet foolishness cannot coexist with God in any form or style; doing so leads so many to go have a seat.

Love knows no boundaries – and if it does find a limit, then it truly isn’t love:  that is called conditions.

Example:  Many of us have had friend(s) with benefits back in the day. He or she was a person we did not want to be seen with during the day, but once the clock struck midnight, we found ourselves seeing said friend to smash…until someone got to talking, or it oddly led to a relationship. Because of the things that were done in the dark coming to light, those two “friends” had to make a decision:  stop the Netflix & chill sessions, or be together full-time.

When we don’t choose to enter a relationship with God, we in effect are still living to creep with religion benefitting from a name association. We won’t find a National Baptist Convention section in Heaven, just as the Orthodox Jews will not possess an area for themselves by the organ. 

People are leaving the church in droves – and sadly, a lot of this is preventable. In turn, we must open our hearts, minds, ears, and souls to what exists beyond the four walls and the church’s website to see a world dying for a true and living God before we lose yet another generation to our tunnel ideology of privilege by having a relationship with God instead of a man-made religion that could fade away in the next breath.


Winning at Life Sometimes Translates to Losing at Fatherhood

Today is my twelfth of at least seventeen consecutive nights at work. While it is true that I have worked that string one other time (nearly four years ago after a coworker quit), things have changed:  instead of being relatively new at married life, we are a little more established in the rote communications of day-to-day life:  bill paying, checking up on the mister/missus, and maintaining the home and cars. More importantly, there is now a sixteen-month-old girl who captivates us with everything she does with her seemingly boundless energy in the picture. Yet, I feel like there are times which I am losing at fatherhood since I don’t get to participate in all of those priceless moments that I may never experience again.

On the outside it seems like I am winning at life – except for the craptastic job with the amazing schedule and superb family health insurance. Those who do not know the struggles only see the house, whatever I feel like smoking on the grill, my wife’s beautiful smile and can-do spirit, and me singing/praying/serving the church as an upbeat young deacon (in-training) and the food ministry coordinator, among other roles. Underneath the velour curtains and shiny veneers, I feel like I am a big loser, to use the Republican Party candidate’s innate mastery of simple mudslinging by resorting to childish name calling.

Why do I feel this way?

Because I work all of the time and when Caeli is at home with me, we are either asleep or in play mode for probably thirty minutes or so. I’d rather have the full fun day with baby bear, but daddy’s got to keep the lights on and gas in both cars. One thing I am appreciative of is the fact that we truly have a blast together and even in my forced workaholism, she easily recognizes – and perks up – to be around me for spoil time.

I’m not saying something is missing in my own life and so everyone knows, I am no longer a fan of lean management as it has taken so many days, weeks, and months away from my family. However, we did not set out on this journey two years ago for my wife to feel like she is a single parent because of my seemingly intermittent on-call work schedule. The money is cool and takes care of a lot of things, but it is not everything. I would rather have the memories than the dough, and to be a good dad than a genie-like great provider of only material stuff.

In the midst of my occasional inadequate feelings, I discovered a lot about myself and have a lot to be proud of considering where my knowledge of babies came from and what to do with them when I cannot pass them along to a more experienced figure. Having the Internet at my fingertips alleviates what worries I cannot get an immediate answer for such as learning how to suction baby snot out of my daughter’s nose without traumatizing each other and eventually, picking out her extra-soft and curly Afro without hurting that tender headed child.

Caeli: Pick your Afro, daddy, because it’s flat on one side.
Me: (no words, picks out the flat side)

Ultimately I would be all-in for having that near-equal balance between being a working stiff and stiff dad and fortunately for me, my schedule works that way most of the time. I’d love to have all weekends off and to eventually take my little girl to school when she gets older – for now I must adjust to the environment which living by the phone necessitates. Achieving the sweep is going to take more than a few good days of winning as toddlers begin to find their own individualistic ways into everything not nailed down or covered up; even though I would love to become a full-time stay at home blogger/pit master, the utilities and mortgage have to be paid externally and on time.

Stay tuned for more of the awkward Dad Chronicles and my thoughts of some other stuff.

Happy Father’s Day. 

Where Pigs Fly

Where Pigs Fly

Objective:  To smoke, grill, and eventually sell some of the best food anywhere in order to provide a reliable side income which most of the profits go to owner’s charity of choice and child’s college fund.

Menu

Only the best quality meats and vegetables are used. The menu changes daily, so check the owner’s Twitter page often for a preview of how barbecue is made great again.

Ribs

Beef or Pork

Sandwiches

Pork, fish, chicken, beef, or brisket

Tacos

Beef, chicken, fish, brisket, pork, or shrimp

Plates

See #WherePigsFly for menu, pricing, pictures, etc.

Sides

Depending on the day’s menu and not limited to corn, baked beans, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, greens, bread or veggie skewers

Dessert

Grilled banana sundae with brownie, chocolate drizzled fruit skewers, or today’s special 

Catering is upon request

(48 hour notice and 10% deposit)


Satisfaction Guaranteed

I Think I Committed Career Suicide.

I think I committed career suicide several years ago – and fortunately, social media was not around for the demise. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t because of some egregious mistake I made:  my biggest mistake was working the graveyard shift. Now I can’t get away from it regardless of how hard I try or how well I think I interview; maybe looking to survive and make $400 SUV payments a decade ago instead of letting my education and certifications speak for my worth should not have been as much of a priority as it turned out to be.

I remember hearing from one of my college professors that shitty jobs build character. After nine years of the graveyard shift, I must be a really good dude or a sucker for punishment – maybe both.
One truly never fully adapts to working the night shift contrary to popular belief. I think I’ve done so well here because of my naturally introverted personality yet I have now been pigeonholed into this type of role:  What good is hustling for a come-up if no one ever sees (or appreciates) the hustle?

I have given this more serious thought about my career suicide in the sixteen months of my daughter’s life. Will she ever get to see her daddy for more than thirty minutes at a time? How on earth are we supposed to be able to sustain a happy marriage if I am always too tired to listen to my wife who thankfully works a traditional schedule? In a world that seems to honor workaholics with bigger paychecks and Atta-boys like Boy Scout badges of honor, who sees me toiling overnight in my near-autonomous situation? Who do I vent my employment concerns to about advancing beyond seemingly one dead-end role after another?

They say you need experience – or in my case, I am often overqualified. How do I defend my quest for survival if I cannot provide bread for the dinner table or fuel in the two cars to get us to and from work? I’m all ears.

Let’s see:  my first job out of college, I tried selling life and health insurance for four months. I made zero dollars – after spending several hundred dollars on compliance courses, my “market” was nonexistent. Thanks, Primerica.

More famously, I had that dream back in March 2004 when God woke me up at 3:08 am (true story) to tell me I would be better at teaching our young people. Fast forward eight years to an unequivocally burned-out educator who would rather crawl in the fetal position than deal with large-school district politics or another round of standardized testing the state shoved down our collective throats. Perhaps having that second job at Wal-Mart wasn’t exactly the best call – but it paid off two cars, a wedding, credit card debts, and provided a nice enough kitty to give us the down payment for our home all within a five-year period. Man wasn’t meant to work 85 hours per week and that did not include the forty-five minute commute to work in rush hour, yet I pushed myself for five years to miles beyond burnout.  Like I said, a man’s gotta do for his family.

Plies reminded us the saddest nigga in the streets is the one who can’t provide back in ‘08.

To this day, I shudder at even hearing the word Wal-Mart.

Four years have come and gone in my current role. Beyond a steady paycheck, what have I accomplished?

I wrote the training manual for the position in one weekend and regularly update the documentation. A flash drive is included with the book in a sign that my technical writing skills are still relevant after what seems like an eternity of collecting dust bunnies and cob webs.

What else?

Don’t say simple stuff like 99% attendance:  the only day I’ve missed was for my daughter’s birth. Grown men are supposed to come to work daily without asking for credit.

I really don’t know what my successes have been or how to properly articulate them in interviews or on my resume – that may be the real cause of my career suicide.


But…Act II is coming. Look out for it!

I’m Not Quite with Her and America Is Already Great

Here we have it:  In one corner, Hillary Clinton and the people who are with her. In the other corner stands Donald Trump who is trying to make America great again.

Who loses? Almost everybody, especially black people.
We're all screwed come November 8.
We’ve taken more Ls than any other group in the history of wins and losses yet we bounce back stronger every single time.  Having the Obama family occupy 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue since January 2009 has been what is considered peak blackness – and for my daughter, Barack Obama is the only President of the United States she has lived through. If you’re thinking of ages and realizing how old I am, consider that Jimmy Carter was our POTUS when I was born and by the grace of God we survived the Reagan years without completely reverting back to the evil days of segregation.

It’s also been said and proven that after a period of peak blackness comes a really nasty period of conservative backlash. Get your personal affairs in order and debts paid off and under control ASAP before January 2017!

It sounds like I am all-in for the Democratic Party candidate, right? Wrong. I’m not quite with Hillary, and someone needs to tell Donald that America is already great with its best days ahead instead of the rear view.

Case in point:  As most of you do not realize or are too cowardly to acknowledge, black voters in most election cycles are the most educated voters. I’m not saying that just because we needed someone who looked like us (President Obama in 2008 and 2012, or Jesse Jackson in the 1988 primaries although it helps), but after getting screwed more than a Duggar or Gingrich wife after a Heritage Foundation convention, we have an idea of moving forward and still harbor a bit of hope in a truly great nation albeit one that capitulates many of our advances in science, technology, entertainment, politics, sports, and culture only to spit out the originators. You may want to keep in mind the people who have taken off their all-white robes and hoods recently via social media were the same ones quoting every other line from Friday – and doubly so if they went to Conway High with me in the 1990s. [Sidebar:  I genuinely love all 400+ of my Class of 1997 classmates with everything in me and will proudly support most of their endeavors. Understand that I am just keeping it real about the undercurrents of racism and softened bigotry that we grew up with and some willfully endorse even if they are complicit in their silence.] Every day gets better because we potentially learn from our past and wisely apply those lessons to the present. That improved future is what we work so hard and pray so heavily at night:  my daughter will be left with a better world than I inherited back in 1978, hopefully one that isn’t damaged beyond repair.

Why am I not quite with Hillary? Keep reading and I’ll defend that position from the rabid liberals on my left including the ones who felt the Bern and now only huddle around a dying spark.

Maybe because I recall how attack dog – and onetime Arkansas governor – former President Bill Clinton savaged President Obama in the early stages of the 2008 campaign, particularly in South Carolina and her tepid response in reining him in. Never a natural politician, Hillary comes across as disingenuous to us:  before Beyoncé, how many of us knew that the presumptive candidate for POTUS 45 carried hot sauce in her purse? Better be Louisiana hot sauce – you know we put that shit on everything! Even so, where would she have gone to stunt? Uncle Ray’s fish fry? I would surely have hoped she used it as Arkansas’ First Lady at the Chick-a-Dilly in El Dorado or the AQ up in Fayetteville or Nick’s over in Carlisle.
If I catch Mrs. Clinton playing dominoes at Stylemasters or King of Fades in Southwest…let’s just say, it’s pandering at the highest level disrespecting our game. I love Pimpin’ Bill, but she needs to stay in her lane and make those calculated decisions that benefit all of us. Don’t forget I know who called us super predators despite all of the goodwill from FMLA and not popping trunk on Bill after snitching-ass former Baylor University president Ken Starr dug up all the scallywags he was knocking off.
I may hold my nose to vote for her November 8, but I may write-in President Obama instead for a third term. Is that possible?

Obviously we cannot hop in a time machine to go back to a simpler (whiter) period, as if anyone born black before 1989 would like to travel in it.

Like the Republican Party since the Nixon administration (Reagan and GWB have special categories for their own sins), Donald Trump only caters to working-class white males who have been fed a steady diet of animus thanks to Limbaugh, Hannity, O’Reilly, Beck, Breitbart, Alex Jones, Fox News, Stormfront, and other right-leaning media sources on the surface. For him, that demonizing of a changing nation has been a winning ticket that I personally do not see him overcoming for the general election. In addition, his divisive rhetoric is causing unification unseen since the Civil Rights Movement received television air play. The irony of this is that the standard bearers no longer claim to be the party of Lincoln as much as the one of “life, liberty, and lower taxes” as the Saline County GOP headquarters proudly uses as a banner! I guess affluence and low taxes mean more than making short-term sacrifices to become greater.

America has become greater in the four hundred years we’ve been here regardless of our origin. While many of us were voluntarily coming over for freedoms unavailable in the Old Country, my ancestors were loaded onto crowded ships, bound, and enslaved for the better part of 240 years only to be legally discriminated against for another 98 years. It has only been sixty-three years since black people have been free – on paper; in practice, we still have to kick down doors daily as professional ass-kickers.

These are the people who preach hard work as a virtue yet my ancestors built a nation on their backs for free .99; the men and women who yearn for self-preservation in a past that never really happened and kidnap our movements if not damn them as “terroristic” or “un-American” such as the aforementioned Civil Rights Movement and #BlackLivesMatter. They stand firmly against abortion until their pastor’s blonde haired, blue-eyed daughter is pregnant with a black baby; avow a version of universal health care until the Patient Protection Affordable Care Act of 2010 known as Obamacare; raise a huge stink about bathrooms in Target when the loudest voices are sometimes the ones molesting children in the privacy of their own homes; and so forth. 

Ask some of them if they have separate restrooms at home for males and females.

What makes America great? Simple:  Diversity, the rights to disagree and protest, the right to protect ourselves responsibly, and the opportunity to make a dollar out of fifteen cents.

For starters, why would Mr. Trump borrow known segregationist and former Alabama Gov. George Wallace’s “make America great again!” slogan if he didn’t know how to harness the power of words? To birthers such as himself and a large number of people I used to work with at Wal-Mart, “Make America Great Again” is a clarion call for disaffected white people to take back what is inherently theirs as if the USA were their literal Israel to be retaken from the Egyptians, Babylonians, Carthaginians, Romans, and the like. If you don’t believe me, then explain the Tea Party takeover of Congress in 2010 and the largely ineffective leadership since then.
Image result for make america great again
Until he lays out specifics with any of his programs, particularly those domestic policies that benefit the majority of us, it is hard to see how America being transformed back to the 1920s or post-World War II is going to benefit anyone except straight married white men, who were the recipients of the GI Bill, the Homestead Act, and a number of school and real estate laws geared toward their station as the privileged class.

A silent voice is one that complies with whatever evil occurs because it chose not to rock the boat. If you’re not fighting against systemic oppression, then you’re the problem.

More, having a (__________) friend or neighbor does not excuse the avarice shown to our fellow man:  I cringed when Mr. Trump gave a shout-out to a man labeling him “my African-American” because deep down, his actions likely meant my N-word:  saying the slur would have cratered what potentially a billion-dollar campaign of empty promises, evasive policies, and shown how out-of-step he really is relative to those of us who have to budget biweekly to pay for our houses, fuel, daycare, and the like.

Furthermore, America is already great. Are all of our days perfect? Of course not. What I expect from either candidate is an optimistic presentation of how to improve our situations without having to resort to juvenile insults or scratching our heads from information overload.
Sister Simone just showed you America is already great. Remember that year-round, not just during the Olympics. 
In truth, I am not quite with Hillary but I damn sure don’t want to go back to a time when many of you think America was great. That means no Google, no Apple, no Facebook, dial-up internet if we’re lucky, exorbitant high interest rates from the bank, separate water fountains, and shady employment practices. In the meantime, I might as well reflect on the past eight years of peak blackness and choose a POTUS 45 that will continue to carry a legacy of freedom and all of the other things that make Americans unique. 

Ding Ding Ding! Fight!

Nearly every single of us have gotten into at least one physical fight in our lifetimes – win or lose, we’re still here to tell the tale of our battles with the fisticuffs. Whether the source of our conflict is due to a period of torment from bullies, loose lips that tend to pop off at the mouth and/or social media, the powers that be, or some other external locale, we have had to fight at varying points in our lives. As adults, our battles are now against the system not limited to discriminating laws and ordinances; the credit reporting agencies; and sometimes, even within our own homes. Surely we’re above taking it outside for the fight circle to congregate around us to kick up dust and knock the stick off the other combatant’s shoulder, but in the day of WSHH people tend to thrive on others’ ratchetness by uploading videos to YouTube, Snapchat, and others.

While some people are gleefully whooping each other over a no-good man or a pair of Air Jordan sneakers, why do they cower from the institutions that promote the crabs in a barrel mentality?

In Ephesians 6:10-17, Paul implores us to put on the whole armor of God in order for us to ready for anything the world throws at us. It is a challenge to live upright in a society that not only twists Scriptural meanings to fit a narrow narrative but also mocks the lifestyle we have chosen to follow. Therefore, we must be prepared to throw down and have the wisdom to not engage in every single petty disagreement because this is what the opposition desires of us.

Who and what are we supposed to fight?

We fight the wiles of the devil. Simply put, resist the urges of jealousy, avarice, lust, greed, etc. in all of their trickery. When we were in middle school and upward, the “cool” thing to do was fight at the fairgrounds, a school, or movie theater parking lot where a large crowd was guaranteed to view the conflict. Just because I want to beat your tail doesn’t mean everyone needs to see it:  law enforcement has a tendency of getting involved making that proposition a no-win situation. Fighting the wiles also includes having the moxie to walk away from a potentially bigger problem such as a hospital stay or worse, a criminal record.

Besides flesh and blood, we are to also fight principalities and powers as well as spiritual wickedness in high places. Let’s face it:  the United States of America has not been a kind place to minorities, the LGBTQ community, or the poor thanks to laws that discriminate against race, gender, creed, or even a difference of opinion! We’ve had the Civil Rights movement, women’s suffrage, and currently the Pride movements all aimed at dismantling unjust laws and policies that separate us. Much like last summer when the government legalized gay marriage nationwide, North Carolina’s Moral Mondays, and the rise of #BlackLivesMatter, our fight continues daily.

In a capitalistic society which we value others primarily based on material possessions and titles, the poor among us have to endure multiple battles:  must work for minimum wage but not make so much they are denied assistance; greedy employers declining to pay health insurance or provide safe working conditions; not having enough to food or utilities (having to choose one or the other) to get by; and a myriad of other issues. If we dismiss the Fight for $15, then we are also spitting in the faces of those who do the most and have to live with the least.  In other words, just because we were born into the lucky sperm or egg club does not imply everyone else had that beginning. The late comedian Bernie Mac told us about messing with the people who prepare our food or perform vital services in the background. Are we paying any attention, or was that for a quick laugh?

When fighting, we’re hopefully standing and connecting on our blows – and if not, working on getting the upper hand to punch out our foes. Even as we get knocked down by a slanted legal and judicial system, the onus is to persevere – and once we accomplish victory, reach a hand out to the lesser fortunate.

Paul further uses imagery to show how to fight albeit from the days of Caesar and Augustus. To be a soldier, you have to look the part as another step toward preparation for war:  Are your pants pulled up? Is the breastplate free of nicks and punctures? Is the footwear comfortable enough to evade a cut, stab, bullet or worse? What about the shield? How effectively does it protect from falsehoods and low blows that come our way? We can easily be taken out if we’re not prepared for what exists outside of our front doors and away from those we love most; that readiness comes from the Word of God being taught at home along with the common-sense approaches we acquired as children.

Most importantly, he exhorts for us to take the helmet of salvation and sword of the spirit, which is the Word of God in verse 17. The reminder to remain vigilant of what we hear, say, and view affects not only us but also those around us. As much as I enjoy hearing Bryson Tiller, some of his underlying messages are at least rated PG-13:  the babies do not need to accompany the chorus or verses on “Don’t” for a catchy tune – as I learned with the R. Kelly album 12 Play in junior high – can be cause for a lot of trouble down the road. I had the tape confiscated by my parents thanks to the raunchiness my fifteen-year-old self should not have needed to hear or attempt to partake! What they failed to consider was their son already had a reputation as a nerd and straight arrow thereby most opportunities with the fairer sex were already neutered.

That’s a whole lotta fightin’ right there.

Remember the underdogs in history and their upset victories heard ‘round the world:  David killing Goliath; the Russians beating the 1980 US hockey team; Truman defeating Dewey in 1948; the 2007 New York Giants edging my beloved New England Patriots in the Super Bowl; Macklemore over Kendrick Lamar in the Grammys for Rap Album of the Year; and Buster Douglas knocking out Mike Tyson.

What are we fighting for? We do not have the option to sit this one out.

You either fight the bully or you are the bully.



Rules of the Cookout in the Dub Shack

Rules of the Cookout in the Dub Shack

1. BYOB.
2. The meat will be done when it’s done. Be cool, man:  I may have had to work last night, so don’t badger me about the brisket at 11 when the rest of the meat won’t be ready until around 2.
3. Make your contributions valuable. I got the meat on lockdown, so that means the rest of you are in charge of sides and shit – and I’m not just talking about clamshells and heavy-duty aluminum foil and to-go plates.
4. Watch your kids.
5. The bedrooms are off-limits. This is a cookout, not an open house.
6. If you have legitimate special nutritional needs and not the usual “seefood” diet, let me know ahead of time. We don’t want to risk anaphylaxis on account of the peanut butter platter (ants on a log) at the end of the snack table or watch the vegans starve while June Bug destroys the ribs.
7. Eat plenty, but also consider that not everyone may have gotten through the line the first time when your greedy behind wants seconds – or thirds.
8. The pit master controls the music. Period.
9. Don’t invite people we don’t already know well enough as if this were a free-for-all. We love you, but Juneteenth/July 4/Labor Day is not the time to vet new people nor allow potential peeping eyes to burglarize our real estate.
10. If you are easily butt hurt or instigating trouble, then don’t talk trash.
11. Keep sidepieces at home. I don’t need that kind of drama in the Dub Shack.
12. If the meat is ready by 2, that means don’t come by after 4 thinking you’re getting some prime brisket or the best burgers:  You may end up angry with me when I hand you a veggie burger or grilled potted meat, a teeny-tiny bag of Fritos and bottled water. In other words, be prompt.
13. The kiddie pools are not for your crusty feet. They are for the babies.
14. DO NOT MAKE TO-GO PLATES BEFORE EVERYONE HAS EATEN! I cannot stress this enough, you greedy mofos.
15. Have fun!
As homeowners, we reserve the right to turn people away at-will and are not responsible for any damages due to your bad behavior in any attempt to get paid.


A quick letter to my friends in the LGBTQ community:


I don’t exactly know what to say in perilous times such as what happened in Orlando the other night nor should I have to open my mouth to form an opinion of the events that led to the deaths of so many men and women inside Pulse, so I’m here to keep my pie hole shut, listen, and try to be the best friend I possibly can be. 

Regardless of your beliefs, I am sincerely praying for each of the families affected, those who are teetering on coming out to less than receptive family members, friends, fraternity/sorority brothers and sisters, etc. that you are able to live your brand of truth without fearing for your lives, employment status, and so forth.

You may look at me as just another straight married Christian man with a big mouth, but I do empathize with the acute pain:  even in the great United States of America, I am still a black man – and in some quarters, one of those slurs that begins with the letter “N” and ends with “-er”. Your pain is my pain:  When one hurts, we all ache equally.

I can tell you from experience that it wasn’t that long ago the same citizens who made a mockery of your orientation did the same thing to interracial couples, particularly those with a black man and a white woman. As a matter of fact, we know friends and associates who have been abused and even paid the ultimate price for the ones they love! Even within our societal disagreements, we are all still human and deserve to be treated as such. I’ve even told a lesbian friend that I want her to experience the same jubilation as my wife and I felt nearly five years ago on that hot August 2011 afternoon!

This is nowhere near the time for political games and passing the buck around to someone else; all violence can be stopped. However, we live in an era which neither children from Sandy Hook nor churchgoing Africa-Americans in Charleston can pray, study, and learn of the Word without being mowed down cannot be the catalysts for reform. Tell me, what are the empty words good for when young people are dying senselessly in a nightclub solely because of sexual orientation?

As we pray to God that He fixes this, we also need to push our lawmakers to enforce existing laws for all, not a select chosen few. Within my own Baptist faith, I do acknowledge that He is Alpha and Omega as His Will is done to overcome our collective prejudices and sinful ways. 

Forgive us for being burdens and causing you lasting pain due to the ignorance and intolerance of a few souls, for they do not truly represent what the Church is all about – or even looks like today. Help us to expand our hearts, minds, and souls for the lost to know God as their own Savior in these trying days and beyond even as the vitriolic rhetoric manifests itself as  homophobia and hatred of our Islamic brothers and sisters that comes from our news sources, entertainment, our own families, and even from the pulpits!

As an ally, I have your backs and unconditionally love you– even if I lose friendships, titles, etc. because of who you are. May God bless each of you and keep you near.

Sincerely,


A different brand of Christian man