Tuesday, July 15, 2025

These Hoes Ain't Loyal

Chris Brown wrote a song about it.

Jamal Bryant preached a sermon about it.

Even I've found out firsthand that these hoes ain't loyal.
So what happened, and why do I feel this way now? 

It's a long story, so grab a bucket of popcorn, take off your shoes,  and find a comfortable seat on the couch: This is gonna take a while
With apologies for the LinkedIn screenshot because Twitter (I know it's called X, but the only X I recognize is Malcolm) is being a twit about sharing my own tweets on other platforms, this has to be said.

Who/what are these disloyal hoes?
Not always the $40 kind but you're reading 

These hoes can be our jobs, our partners in any and all facets of life, and yes, even the organizations we pledge fealty to.

So...when did I realize these hoes ain't loyal? Was it getting passed over yet again for another promotion that created the Eff You vibe that I have been working through the past several months? Was it when my manager lowballed my salary requirements for the last role I interviewed for, and otherwise minimized my body of work? Biblically speaking, had I become Hosea watching the landscape shift before my very eyes in favor of the loosest floozy who may/may not be around after ninety days? 
It makes me wonder. 

For the six weeks I was resting and rehabilitating from my radical prostaterectomy, the only constants were the new routines of my day: Wake up, walk from one end of the street to the cul-de-sac and back, pound twenty ounces of water, do Kegels for fifteen minutes or so, and fall asleep in the recliner to the news, a business course I was taking, or the droning babble of YouTube as content creators retold varying versions of the same stories over and over. For the first couple of weeks, people reached out and we engaged in conversations that ranged across the gamut. What they were specifically about is immaterial only that they happened. My own coworkers mostly left me to my own devices in whooping prostate cancer, and even then I caught the occasional text message of encouragement or to answer a role-specific question. As my own struggles were locally publicized via blog, the way the community coalesced around me was nothing short of unreal! 

I should have taken more pictures; as painful as some of the early days were and the bodily betrayals which ensued, at least the real ones were still around after the dust settled.

I can't always say the same in other facets of life.

While I am always happy to see someone get his/her money, promotions, new roles, etc. at work, the way I and some others had been bypassed consistently for one reason or another began to really grate on my nerves. What's the point in giving 100 percent when the results and rewards do not reciprocate the effort, particularly when someone so vastly under qualified can be elevated solely because of nepotism or being more visible to decisionmakers? 

Is HR the gatekeepers we have always thought they were?

In another episode of "these hoes ain't loyal", I can finally speak of what prompted my family's decision to leave one church congregation for another house of worship. As the chief finance officer (CFO) among other hats this deacon wore, it was my fiduciary responsibility and obligation to the church body that we were not only simply paying the bills but also shoring up the reserves as well as remaining mindful of the upcoming expenses such as property taxes, the annual insurance premiums, payroll taxes with the federal government [Uncle Sam wants his pound of flesh from the church 501(c)3 exemption be damned - let no one say otherwise], etc. Late last year, I was asked to break protocol and pay the musician in cash under the guise of pastor's instruction. I declined to do so, and instead of having support and backing from the chairman of the deacon board, he berated me as if we had not codified policy within the past fourteen months. Maybe I should have turned in my keys and removed myself at that very moment, but for some strange reason, my logical reaction is to see things out in hopes of an aberration that would not repeat itself. Over the next few months, I discovered midweek cash transactions occurring primarily to circumvent the required paperwork and mandatory two signatures for accountability. Fortunately, the numbers matched up by Sunday morning but the headaches continued to mount as the pigeonholing became more frequent. I had already witnessed the end of the new members course, and as the known food pantry director, my role was minimized to cutting the checks and opening the doors each third Saturday morning instead of identifying external opportunities for growth and expanding our focus. Lastly, let's not get started on the tech overhaul that quadrupled in cost overruns and now is as underutilized as an independent voice among liberals or conservatives. My own household packed up its spiritual bags without me although the decision had been made a couple of weeks earlier.

Where was the loyalty and support for my own growth, development, and leadership? Crickets. 


Life has a way of becoming a proving ground of sorts, especially when the faithfulness proves to be a complete waste of time. When the hoes - can be male or female, by the way - get what they want, they often discard the soldiers who paved the way for a better present and future. See how Black people get trotted out in front of the public eye as heroes and the Next Big Thing until our honesty or opinions run contrary to what is implied of the soul who originally checked off boxes before they are called everything but a child of God and demonized before the evental sanitizing. With this acknowledgement, often posthumous, it merely tries to whitewash the truth spoken to power so violently assaulted in its moment.

Disagree? I have modern examples.

Why is Arkansas so hellbent on not teaching Black history to the point that the reason for denial is that it makes some people uncomfortable?

Which Israel matters, the Biblical one or the ethnostate established in 1948? They are NOT the same.

Why do we celebrate the lowest denominator of people as if their values are to be aspired toward?

Y'all do it, stop lying.

When we start taking stock of ourselves and making the moves that ultimately benefit our legacies, we will find that being loyal to hoes leaves us broken, stunted, and otherwise bitter as a result of wasted energy not limited to time and cash. 
Growth is walking away rather than throwing hands.

Tuesday, July 8, 2025

.01

I'm almost ready to ring the bell.

After the past seven weeks of healing, resting, rehabbing, and otherwise being confined to a low weight limit, I guess the time to punch a clock is imminent. It's not like I am ready and willing to walk across the parking lot to that trailer park in the sky; however, bills gotta get paid. What I do know is this: Act II has to count for something. Working like a government mule for the next 20-30 years (yes, my original retirement date is my 75th birthday but I don't see that desire to manage other people's crap that long anymore). Plus, standing next to the smokers with a table and Square account doesn't seem the best way to enjoy life after the swamp or wherever I end up toiling for the Man. Even then, I believe that my wife will want me to turn in my badge, ditch the coveralls, and surrender that parking space in front of the storeroom which I walk from at least twice per shift in favor of the condo in Ocean Springs before either of us loses cognition or the power to live out deferred dreams.



I like money, but I also like my new taste of freedom.
I also like vacation time. 

What is so special about the .01 that you see in the title line?

That number represents my PSA score. In other words, I am 99.99% cancer-free! In a few months, it should become goose eggs across the board with occasional monitoring from my urologist. Without a prostate (read my last post), that number is to be expected. 

What does that mean moving forward?

Well, those lifestyle changes I implemented seven weeks ago will hopefully stick long term. That means more water, less Dr. Pepper and Miller Lite; reaching my daily step count without having to borrow the neighbor's dog because I don't feel like walking; and now, readjusting that sleep schedule back to night life. I also need to reach out to all of you at one point or another - block party, anyone? - and remember that once upon a time before life got in the way that I was somewhat of a fun guy to be around. Even more importantly, continuing to be a lifelong learner means squat if I don't put the new-to-me knowledge to practice and share in that "reach one, teach one" kind of way. 
Not just Black knowledge but also the very winnable war against prostate cancer👆🏿

One thing I definitely appreciate AND respect is the fact that so many guys have reached out and said that I have been the catalyst in getting their prostates (and other parts) checked out. Although that Canadian rapper told us he was only here for a good time not a long time, our loved ones would like for us to stick around a bit longer. 

Once again, thanks to everyone who had a kind word, thought, prayer, conversation via text, phone, quick road trip, or any of the social media platforms I still use, and all of the support given to my family. The love was felt and reciprocated at least the same way y'all sent it to me. I often remark about a mustard seed of faith carrying me a long way through life's trails and tribulations, yet I also have had a gang of people standing in the intercessory gap for me in this war we won together: Don't take this or yourselves lightly at all. 

Anyway, may God bless each and every single one of you. 
I'm out✌🏿