Tuesday, July 27, 2021

Exit Stage Left

I guess this absolutely needs to be the end.

I’ve been writing in one capacity or another over the course of most of my life, and while there have been some complimentary phrases such as “I love your work” or “Your truth comes from a place I’ve never imagined” or of course, the stuff I’ve read in Messenger that only deserved a “May God bless you” response. Putting righthanded scribbles to lined paper, MS Word or that blue hardbacked journal from Nature’s Classroom fifteen years ago has been quite the solace for wherever my mind has taken me - but at which point, when do I get out of my own head?

I’ve survived a monstrosity of things that should have killed me if not outright curtailed my own path.

Sometimes being the most loquacious wordsmith in the room has led me down some irrepressible rabbit holes, and sometimes it implies that the weapon I have selected most frequently during this lifetime either wants another chance for a nostalgia a bit rosier or has come to grips that the original road seemingly less traveled was truly rife with brambles, stickers, and jagged rocks along the way too painful to drive upon. Apparently, the latter has become the case for me, and as they say, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger:  That six-pack is hidden under a gut full of tasty barbecue, Golden Grahams, and more cold beer than I would care to admit drinking over the past twenty years.  

Then there is the fact I surrendered my twenties chasing a dollar bill that seemed to outrun me just by a smidge on a weekly basis instead of making memories to have numerous tales to regale my little one or reminisce with friends one day. You know, the price of being poor is very expensive.

Yet, that trusty pen and pad became more than a necessity:  it was the vessel that solidly pulled the most banal thoughts out of my head into a format worth reading about in a later venue and through the untold editing days which occasionally became weeks if not months. Once an idea met paper or in this case, MS Word, it would often vacillate between becoming something noteworthy or due for File 13. Somehow my writing process decided if I needed to advance subject matter by conducting research (again, I never rely on solely the stuff in my head – and that insatiable quest for knowledge periodically has gotten me into some trouble).

During the life of AD&AD, I think the longest time I went without posting was six weeks. In addition to running out of content, I messed around and decided that sanctifying my family’s privacy by any means necessary was paramount to almost anything else going on in my life whether it be working up new sauce recipes for DSB; the never-ending drama surrounding the church that deserves its own reality show; or the realization that the dead-end of working for a conglomerate several states away that only knows me when things go sideways onsite is clearer by the minute.

Everything has a season, and for the incubation, nurturing, and carefully pruning of each phase for better or for worse, the time for release eventually manifests itself to no longer modify the wheel.

I will still be around albeit not in the same familiar capacities many of you recognize me.

My pen and wayward thoughts need a vacation from each other, so…I bid adieu.

In the most ACedA way I have said:  God bless, I’m out.

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Sunday, July 18, 2021

US History Has Always Been Selective. Think About Why.

From someone who teaches AP US History: 
If you are confused as to why so many Americans are defending the confederate flag, monuments, and statues right now, I put together a quick Q&A, with questions from a hypothetical person with misconceptions and answers from my perspective as an AP U.S. History Teacher:

Q: What did the Confederacy stand for?

A: Rather than interpreting, let's go directly to the words of the Confederacy's Vice President, Alexander Stephens. In his "Cornerstone Speech" on March 21, 1861, he stated "The Constitution... rested upon the equality of races. This was an error. Our new government is founded upon exactly the opposite idea; its foundations are laid, its corner-stone rests, upon the great truth that the negro is not equal to the white man; that slavery subordination to the superior race is his natural and normal condition. This, our new government, is the first, in the history of the world, based upon this great physical, philosophical, and moral truth."

Q: But people keep saying heritage, not hate! They think the purpose of the flags and monuments are to honor confederate soldiers, right?

A: The vast majority of confederate flags flying over government buildings in the south were first put up in the 1960's during the Civil Rights Movement. So for the first hundred years after the Civil War ended, while relatives of those who fought in it were still alive, the confederate flag wasn't much of a symbol at all. But when Martin Luther King, Jr. and John Lewis were marching on Washington to get the Civil Rights Act (1964) and Voting Rights Act (1965) passed, leaders in the south felt compelled to fly confederate flags and put up monuments to honor people who had no living family members and had fought in a war that ended a century ago. Their purpose in doing this was to exhibit their displeasure with black people fighting for basic human rights that were guaranteed to them in the 14th and 15th Amendments but being withheld by racist policies and practices.

Q: But if we take down confederate statues and monuments, how will we teach about and remember the past?

A: Monuments and statues pose little educational relevance, whereas museums, the rightful place for Confederate paraphernalia, can provide more educational opportunities for citizens to learn about our country's history. The Civil War is important to learn about, and will always loom large in social studies curriculum. Removing monuments from public places and putting them in museums also allows us to avoid celebrating and honoring people who believed that tens of millions of black Americans should be legal property. 

Q: But what if the Confederate flag symbol means something different to me?

A: Individuals aren't able to change the meaning of symbols that have been defined by history. When I hang a Bucs flag outside my house, to me, the Bucs might represent the best team in the NFL, but to the outside world, they represent an awful NFL team, since they haven't won a playoff game in 18 years. I can't change that meaning for everyone who drives by my house because it has been established for the whole world to see. If a Confederate flag stands for generic rebellion or southern pride to you, your personal interpretation forfeits any meaning once you display it publicly, as its meaning takes on the meaning it earned when a failed regime killed hundreds of thousands of Americans in an attempt to destroy America and keep black people enslaved forever. 

Q: But my uncle posted a meme that said the Civil War/Confederacy was about state's rights and not slavery?

A: "A state's right to what?" - John Green

Q: Everyone is offended about everything these days. Should we take everything down that offends anyone?

A: The Confederacy literally existed to go against the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, and the idea that black people are human beings that deserve to live freely. If that doesn't upset or offend you, you are un-American. 

Q: Taking these down goes against the First Amendment and freedom of speech, right?

A: No. Anyone can do whatever they want on their private property, on their social media, etc. Taking these down in public, or having private corporations like NASCAR ban them on their properties, has literally nothing to do with the Bill of Rights. 

Q: How can people claim to be patriotic while supporting a flag that stood for a group of insurgent failures who tried to permanently destroy America and killed 300,000 Americans in the process? 

A: No clue.

Q: So if I made a confederate flag my profile picture, or put a confederate bumper sticker on my car, what am I declaring to my friends, family, and the world?

A: That you support the Confederacy. To recap, the Confederacy stands for: slavery, white supremacy, treason, failure, and a desire to permanently destroy Selective history as it supports white supremacy. 

It’s no accident that: 

You learned about Helen Keller instead of W.E.B, DuBois

You learned about the Watts and L.A. Riots, but not Tulsa or Wilmington. 

You learned that George Washington’s dentures were made from wood, rather than the teeth from slaves. 

You learned about black ghettos, but not about Black Wall Street. 

You learned about the New Deal, but not “red lining.”

You learned about Tommie Smith’s fist in the air at the 1968 Olympics, but not that he was sent home the next day and stripped of his medals. 

You learned about “black crime,” but white criminals were never lumped together and discussed in terms of their race. 

You learned about “states rights” as the cause of the Civil War, but not that slavery was mentioned 80 times in the articles of secession. 

Privilege is having history rewritten so that you don’t have to acknowledge uncomfortable facts. 

Racism is perpetuated by people who refuse to learn or acknowledge this reality. 

You have a choice. - Jim Golden”
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Thursday, July 15, 2021

Is This Your King?

The finesse is strong in the church.
I've had time to really study the Gospel. How have you used your moments since the coronavirus pandemic hit?

Perhaps it always has been, but we are witnesses in a season that curtains have been opened exposing the good, the bad, and the indifferent; while the good will be justly rewarded, the bad and indifferent do deserve the whippings due them both physically and spiritually - and those are beatings undesired. Seventeen months after coronavirus, what have we learned? Does anything go as long as the coffers are full and the optics of a visible leadership team take priority good health be damned? How is the Gospel shared to a sin sick world that is seeking something greater beyond the norm?

You leaders accept bribes for dishonest decisions. You priests and prophets teach and preach, but only for money. Then you say, “The Lord is on our side. No harm will come to us.” Micah 3:11 
In 1 Samuel 8-15, the Israelites knew that Samuel had been an effective king and as he aged, the elders acknowledged that his sons failed to follow his blueprint for leading Israel fairly, so they began to wander with their little eyes and ask for a king like the surrounding nations. Samuel knew this was a bad idea because a king could take them through things far worse than they ever anticipated, so he reluctantly accepted their request. Check out 1 Samuel 8:4-22 for an introduction - consider that the people have been backsliding for centuries and bellyaching since shortly after crossing the Red Sea. 

One day the nation's leaders came to Samuel at Ramah and said, “You are an old man. You set a good example for your sons, but they haven't followed it. Now we want a king to be our leader, just like all the other nations. Choose one for us!”  Samuel was upset to hear the leaders say they wanted a king, so he prayed about it. The Lord answered: Samuel, do everything they want you to do. I am really the one they have rejected as their king. Ever since the day I rescued my people from Egypt, they have turned from me to worship idols. Now they are turning away from you. Do everything they ask, but warn them and tell them how a king will treat them.  Samuel told the people who were asking for a king what the Lord had said:  If you have a king, this is how he will treat you. He will force your sons to join his army. Some of them will ride in his chariots, some will serve in the cavalry, and others will run ahead of his own chariot.  Some of them will be officers in charge of 1,000 soldiers, and others will be in charge of 50. Still others will have to farm the king's land and harvest his crops, or make weapons and parts for his chariots. Your daughters will have to make perfume or do his cooking and baking.  The king will take your best fields, as well as your vineyards, and olive orchards and give them to his own officials. He will also take a tenth of your grain and grapes and give it to his officers and officials.  The king will take your slaves and your best young men and your donkeys and make them do his work. He will also take a tenth of your sheep and goats. You will become the king's slaves, and you will finally cry out for the Lord to save you from the king you wanted. But the Lord won't answer your prayers.  The people would not listen to Samuel. “No!” they said. “We want to be like other nations. We want a king to rule us and lead us in battle.”  Samuel listened to them and then told the Lord exactly what they had said. “Do what they want,” the Lord answered. “Give them a king.” Samuel told the people to go back to their homes.
1 Samuel 8:4‭-‬22

Having a physical figurehead is more important than the God who has kept them all this time meaning that God is truly the one they are rejecting. His people have turned from him at every turn to worship idols, follow the other nations in leading hedonistic lifestyles (see The Curious Case of Lot and the Five Cities), and now they want a different direction than what Samuel has guided. Samuel's words:  Be careful of what you ask for. 

I love y'all but this is one ticket I will decline. #IsThisYourKing pic.twitter.com/s43aUMhybf
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Monday, June 21, 2021

Son of Friendship

I am a son of Friendship.
What does that mean, exactly?

It means that Conway proper tended to crap on us by not extending us the same benefits of other communities and neighborhoods annexed into its city limits such as stopping the water line at the old Highway 25 intersection almost thirty years ago, delaying the gas line prior without a financial payment to one prominent citizen's family, and trash service that will likely never happen.
It meant that other 'hoods tended to look on us like nappyheaded stepchildren in a family of light skins, like Wesley Snipes surrounded by the DeBarges. Y'all acted like we didn't have hands or assorted goon tendencies, and aside from the related folks who were there long before my parents moved me to the 'Ship back in 1979, then-Judge Carter had us make do with dirt roads and rural route numbers for addresses (Keep in mind 911 didn't reach us until 1990, and it possibly wasn't a thing in the 72032 yet).

But, being a son of Friendship has had its perks that my kid will never know:

• Bike riding from mid-morning to the time the street lights came on;
• Hooping (not just playing basketball - there's a difference) on dirt courts to develop that handle or in my case, the low post game;
• Kickball games in the most expansive yard and being able to get the ball without having to climb fences;
• Stopping Joe Michael the soda pop man when he would drive through on those hot summer afternoons;
• Four-wheeling some of everywhere;
• You knew where everyone was Wednesday night at 7 or Sunday morning from 11-2 or so;
• The OGs truly looked out for us [Rayfus, Roy Lee, Dee Dee, Mack Ray, AJG, Big Mike, etc.- RIL];
• In the late 80s and early 90s, video game tournaments were REAL;
• Each kid was treated like family but you weren't using the bathroom inside girls excluded;
• The garden hose was your source of cold refreshment;
• At a certain driving age, your car was practically required to have a system that could knock pictures off the wall with its bass;
• Almost everyone had a nickname;
• You had a story from when Ms. Susi, Mr. Woods, or Rev. Forte drove the school bus;
• Middle school kids were quite the entrepreneurs selling candy each Friday to the elementary riders;
• The little white house in the curve is now yellow;
• and so forth. Seriously, there are too many memories of my childhood not to rep the place I grew up in.

Being a son of Friendship has taught a resiliency that otherwise would have made me fold like notebook paper notes that were passed around from one desk to the next.

Beyond the G-code, there was a level of morality expected of me:  If you fought in the streets, you kept it in the streets for that one time. No point in broadcasting who caught a fade on the court or in the road when the people who mattered either were there or already knew within a few minutes. You shook hands and dapped up the next time you saw each other as the previous animus was largely forgotten about instead of having a burning desire for gunplay.

In Black culture, the ancestors and OGs alike used to tell us that we have to be twice as good for the same opportunities that the other folks had. It is in Friendship where we learned to build our own tables and bring our own chairs for our own advancements; they weren't exactly wrong due to how they had to get it in their younger years but when you learned better, you acted accordingly.
In recent years, I've said Friendship Road raised me - and that is no lie. Conway might have educated me and introduced me to most of you, Arkadelphia grew me up, Colebrook (and Winsted by default) reminded me that I am a Black man in America, and Bryant is where I do life with my amazing wife Chastity, raise our Little Bear, do tech stuff, and sling some damn good barbecue, but at the end of the day, the 'Ship is home. 

Always has been. Always will be.

I'm gonna put on as the community I was raised in sadly becomes gentrified - and to an extent, I blame myself for that happening. When I left in 1997, I never fathomed that Friendship would be so desired - with all of the potential developments and the events center popping up, it is only a matter of time before the land I remembered becomes something completely foreign with the property tax increases to match.

Any count, the 'Ship has an outsized role in me becoming the man I am today. 

As a son of Friendship, it's undeniable. 



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Monday, May 31, 2021

Black Memorial Day

This is how Memorial Day came to be:

According to Blight’s 2001 book Race and Reunion: The Civil War in American Memory, a commemoration organized by freed slaves and some white missionaries took place on May 1, 1865, in Charleston, S.C., at a former planters’ racetrack where Confederates held captured Union soldiers during the last year of the war. At least 257 prisoners died, many of disease, and were buried in unmarked graves, so black residents of Charleston decided to give them a proper burial.

In the approximately 10 days leading up to the event, roughly two dozen African American Charlestonians reorganized the graves into rows and built a 10-foot-tall white fence around them. An archway overhead spelled out “Martyrs of the Race Course” in black letters.

About 10,000 people, mostly black residents, participated in the May 1 tribute, according to coverage back then in the Charleston Daily Courier and the New York Tribune. Starting at 9 a.m., about 3,000 black schoolchildren paraded around the race track holding roses and singing the Union song “John Brown’s Body,” and were followed by adults representing aid societies for freed black men and women. Black pastors delivered sermons and led attendees in prayer and in the singing of spirituals, and there were picnics. James Redpath, the white director of freedman’s education in the region, organized about 30 speeches by Union officers, missionaries and black ministers. Participants sang patriotic songs like “America” and “We’ll Rally around the Flag” and “The Star-Spangled Banner.” In the afternoon, three white and black Union regiments marched around the graves and staged a drill.

This tribute, “gave birth to an American tradition,” Blight wrote in Race and Reunion: “The war was over, and Memorial Day had been founded by African Americans in a ritual of remembrance and consecration.”

In 1996, Blight stumbled upon a New York Herald Tribune article detailing the tribute in a Harvard University archive — but the origin story it told was not the Memorial Day history that many white people had wanted to tell, he argues.

The fact that the freed slaves’ Memorial Day tribute is not as well remembered is emblematic of the struggle that would follow, as African Americans’ fight to be fully recognized for their contributions to American society continues to this day.
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Friday, May 28, 2021

One Down, Twelve To Go

I remember saying that I was going to retire the Dad Chronicles for good once upon a time but I cannot stop telling everyone about how proud I am of Caeli in her first go-round of 36 weeks of onsite learning. She has had a blast in kindergarten, and I have to credit the entire village for her successes as well as the curiosity of one six-year-old girl. 
Another graduation day done. Thank God Caeli looks more like her mommy than her daddy 

So...where do we start?

Culture shock really didn't affect her one bit - and that was surprisingly by design thanks to the other kids in our neighborhood involving her every single chance they could, and how their friendships as playmates and beyond have shaped this academic year. In addition, I unintentionally became that dad:  Not the one who provided the progeny with every new toy under the sun but the one who watched - and occasionally - played. It didn't help me lose any weight and we won't get into that part; consequently, the girl who was once known as the baby of the block showed a resounding lack of fear with most of what she was doing - and sometimes doing it better than the bigger kiddos.

This is where we started 

This is where we ended

From a scary beginning of the school year to a real dumping of snow unseen here since her third day of life to the dislocated left middle toe and the venture to channel her athletic ability at gymnastics and recently, swim lessons, the three of us have had a school year to remember!

Last time Arkansas has this much snow, Caeli was three days old and in the NICU at UAMS. 

February's Character Kid:  Her word was honesty. 

Oh yeah, the spring break trip to Myrtle Beach where it seemed like every fourth car we saw on the way had Arkansas tags. Little Miss Sunshine wants to go back, and who could blame her? Aside from the 14 hours spent in a Camry [still averaged 30 mpg, BTW] and narrowly avoiding a tornado in central Alabama, the week away indeed became a memory-maker. 

Ripley's Believe Ir Or Not! Museum in Myrtle  Beach 
There are so many things we can share and an equal amount of events that were bigger to Caeli than what adult eyes have experienced. This summer's plans are mainly to beat back atrophy from not reading or writing for the next ten weeks by...reinforcement and repetition. Not the R&R intended, ha? Yeah, rest and relaxation are also included, but in an ever-changing, more competitive environment, losing precious skills are not optional. 

Birthday girl got down at her photo shoot Feb. 13

Thanks to Mrs. Henson and Mr. Wagner for being Caeli's first public school teachers
Not just strong, but #CaeliStrong - best wishes to Mr. Wagner next year at Springhill Elementary 
We made it! One down, twelve to go - and that does not include college, medical school, or whatever her postsecondary life looks like come 2033:  I just hope it is not a cost-prohibitive journey.

Dr. Caeli thanks all of you for hanging out this year
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Tuesday, May 25, 2021

Praise the Loin! Dub Shack BBQ Smokes a Pork Loin

I’ve been wanting a good pork sandwich, er, sammich, around these parts and I’ve come to the realization that no one makes one better than I can. Will I ever get up off my butt and start selling on the side of the road like the OGs before me or get permission from one of the developers in town to lay claim to a part of their new parking lots for the sole purpose of sharing with everyone the gospel of great barbecue being 1) accessible to the people, and 2) affordable for families to keep coming back? It might just be a Springhill Park thing as the weather warms up – there is no way I would pay for the old grocery space a few blocks from the house because it would have me surrendering vacations and potentially retirement money if I eff it up. Even then, my neighbors have gotten so used to the smell of hickory, mesquite, post oak, cherry, or apple woods from my backyard that if I took that away from them, a third of the entire subdivision might show up in full riot gear at my front door – and we cannot allow that.

Guess which part of the pig just got smoked?

You may wonder the difference between the pork loin and the pork tenderloin and if the two terms are interchangeable: Well, I have the answer for you.

Our friends at All Recipes give us this explanation below:

A pork tenderloin is a long, narrow boneless cut of meat that comes from the muscle that runs along the backbone. A pork loin is wider and flatter and can be a boneless or bone-in cut of meat. Pork loin comes from the back of the pig.

I will do a pork tenderloin recipe one day but for today’s cook, I chose to focus on the pork loin. It is one of the easiest things I have found to cook when I need to feed a crew a lot of food for not much money, and it is a very versatile meat for frying, smoking, braising, roasting, grilling, and so forth. It was one of the most popular menu items last summer, so here is how your friendly pitmaster did it.

INGREDIENTS

Pork loin (can range anywhere from 7-12+ lbs.) – your favorite meat purveyor will show you the way

Mustard or olive oil as a binder

Rub of your choice

STEP ONE. After removing the loin from its cryo-vac packaging, be certain to rinse the phosphates and other things that make it look pretty in the meat bunker, and then trim the silver skin from it. That is the part that will not render and simply gets in the way of exceptional pork.


STEP TWO. Depending on your cooking vessel – I used my PK – light your fire. Regardless, get the smoker up to 250 degrees and set yourself up for indirect cooking. A water pan is optional to ensure the loin stays moist because Lord knows no one deserves dry pork, not even the people who like well-done steaks. Because the PK grills are the perfect size for grilling and present a small challenge for smoking, I sliced my loin in half. As for seasoning, I tend to love lemon pepper loin slices as they are neutral like Switzerland and go with almost anything for dinner like rice, quinoa, mixed vegetables, mashed potatoes, and so forth. Once the weapon reaches 250, bring out the pork!


STEP THREE. Lay the pork loin on the cooker and hang around for a bit. I would tell you to get a beer and perhaps even do some yard work. Recently Little Miss Sunshine asked me to stop drinking, so the time to acquiesce to full sobriety is upon me to lay off the sauce. As much as I like Miller Lite, I have come to the conclusion that I don’t drink beer as often as I used to – and I figured that once I finish the 12-pack in the refrigerator, that might be it. In addition, my own battle with diabetes also has a hand in giving up something I have enjoyed for half my life for the sake of my family. Therefore, I will no longer do the beer-to-time ratio made famous with earlier cooks. The loin is finished at 145 degrees instead of the 160 we were always told because meat temperatures do carry over some after they come off the grill and rest for a bit.

STEP FOUR. According to the USDA, pork can be served at 145 degrees – and that’s your prerogative regarding cooking style and audience. Most meats will tell you when they are done [ex. the bone slides out of Boston butts, or the disintegration of fat on ribs], but if 160 is your standard, hey, I understand. Bring the loin inside to rest for fifteen minutes before slicing as thick or as thin as desired:  In this case, I made sandwiches.

Assembling Cuban sandwiches like the guys in Miami, Tampa, and all parts of South Florida do it with a central Arkansas twist goes a little something like this:


With a sub roll, this guy began in this order:  a nice slathering of Dub Shack BBQ’s The Ancestors mustard sauce, enough slices of the lemon pepper-rubbed pork loin, salami, Swiss cheese, honey ham, a pickle spear, and more of The Ancestors. Due to the fact that I was heading to work, I did not toast it; do it until the cheese melts if time permits. Serve with a bag of Lay’s chips and a cold beverage of choice.


Fall asleep? Here is a second sandwich, localized to support the brothers from The Truth sauce. Their bottles can be found in most independent grocery stores and Edwards Food Giant throughout Arkansas.


With a fresh sub roll, the base layer is The Truth barbecue sauce. This time, I used a traditional barbecue rubbed loin, salami, Swiss cheese, honey ham, and another slathering of The Truth. Again, serve with a pickle spear and a bag of Lay’s chips.

Make this your own – and if the pork slices were too thin, feel free to slice them thicker for pork chops. Have I fried them before? Not yet, but I think they would be awesome in the ‘smoke-a-fried’ style. Give this recipe a shot and whether it is mine or someone else’s chow, evangelize to the masses that every day is a GREAT day for barbecue! Stay blessed and safe out there!


 

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