March 31st aka 3-31 Style...

Spring forward 

"You cant avoid death and taxes but you sure can think about not paying!! *wink* Just kidding Mister Uncle Sam. Your money is coming..."

-VAR

I sat in my office chair contemplating writing this check for a never before thought of sum of money. I expected this craziness so the pain is bearable. It's like spiritually resolving yourself to the inevitable. It's like taking a deep breath and numbing your senses because this was a day you knew would come. It's like three things I was expecting to do this month or at least to recognize and then move on with my sanity still intact. Those things include: renewing my license. I had to go in to do this because I reached the maximum times where they simply mail you your card. I kept putting it off. I was thinking, damn, I'm gonna have to take an eye test and after all these years of looking at a computer screen, dealing with Cali air pollution, increasing population of bootylicious ladies and whatever else be out there in the ozone layer, my eyes might not be too cool! BUT, low and behold, my eyesight is right on point! I aced that little eye exam like it was nothing. God blessed me with some pretty good eyes and I am very thankful....

Next thing: My Birthday. It's a day that I let go by without much fanfare... I just aint into it and as I've told and reminded several people, it's not something I get into until or unless I have that special someone who would make celebrating such an occasion truly worthwhile. Someone on a romantic level.. Someone unselfishly motivated by love who could just take matters into their own hands and spoil me like crazy. They dont have to set things up by warning me that they dont have any money, which means the celebration would have to wait until they do. Hence, I'm supposed to delay my reaction and have folks singing the birthday song in a restaurant several days after the fact. That just doesn't work with me.. But again, I imagine if I did have that true special someone, I wouldn't even have to worry about this sort of thing. Instead, I'd be blogging a week later with pictures, thoughts and an attempted recreation of what it feels like to have returned from heaven... And I guarantee you, once someone hooks me up in that special way, I will return that blessing ten times over!

Final thing: Taxes. All I can now say is OUCH!!! Uncle Sam hits hard! I'm reminded of this picture I always see at work in the elevator. It shows Uncle Sam pushing up his sleeve, ready to put in work with a balled up fist. The closed caption from my point of view reads "I'm comin for your ass Anthony so be ready!!" And I say to that the same thing that I'm able to stand up and say to love... I dont really want to pay right now, but I am ready when I know it's time... I'm glad March is on it's way out!

Saturday Night...

Saturday Night 3-26 

Saturday night was like a glimmer of possibilites.. It was like feeling a sense of loss in a city filled with opportunity. It was like witnessing a beautiful full moon in the sky overshadowing a corner where life was once taken. It was like driving past a beautiful young woman who clutched herself as she walked away from a flower and candlelit memorial...

Saturday was party time, still with a glimmer of what could be or should be... It was like bittersweet memories left behind by a barber friend who I'd see smiling with pride every time I'd walk through the door. It was like thinking you'd finally found a friend you could shoot the breeze with but only discovering he was all talk and paid for shine...

But Saturday wasn't completely like that....It wasn't all glimmer taken away by slowly revealed, realistic light.. There were moments of real shine... A beautiful author at work, looking very happy and proud to be in her own shoes, wearing them with pride and still maintaining her down to earth-ness... And then there was another moment of shine... A tall gorgeous sistah looking incredible. She wasn't happy at first but even God's most awesomely beautiful sistahs have to endure wake up calls that say, "not every day can be perfect." But you know what? In the moment during our conversations and hugs, it was perfect for me... I thank you for allowing me to speak with you, to compliment you and to shake up your temporary foundation of sadness. Seeing you laugh and blush a little was real cool. I caught you off guard...I like those moments though it's hard for me to believe you cant see what I see... I'ma have to buy you an extra large mirror...*smile*

Going out like I seen this incredible creative soul do on her blog.. I'm bumpin an old school joint in my head... ===Saturday Night== by Earth, Wind, and Fire!

Until Again copr.2005 

Rambling Thoughts Again...

AR 

Decisions sit pasted to the table like yellow posted pads. I'm not even sure which one to tackle first, second, third... Typically I go with the one that moves my heart rather than the one which could make life a little uneasy like not paying a bill. Not that I'm behind on my responsibilities but that stuff just dont motivate me the same way. Compare the two experiences. I write a check, place it in an envelope and then mail it off. My reward is that days later, my bank account has less money in it. I'm not really feeling that too much. However, check this out...

Imagine a tall beautiful cafe-o-lait or chocolate or honey-coated or cinnamon or caramel saturated sistah with a personality just as sweet and a walk that'll drive you insane thinking about it. Your insanity borders on an overexposure of the truth, which is, you dig this girl a lot. You spend unplanned moments embellishing reality with dreams of rose petaled pathways leading to her discovery that you are or at least could be THE ONE.

Those decisions you place before you only hint at what flows inside your heart inspired by reflections noted within your soul. You're merely just trying to spark her interest and turn on that switch which illuminates her smile. This ain't about over-powering the Queen. Too many ladies got themselves trained these days to turn off their smile once they step out into the world. Nah, this is about you being brave enough to represent the honest truth about you, both good and bad. This is about the potentiality of you as King and the quiet reality that shows you know something this special requires time...time...time...to move or gradually slide into her focus.

So, you wait and you love it when you find new ways to reach her. Your motivation is the best kind because it's not even about you. It's about her and hopefully she finds no struggle in recognizing real sincerity because it would be her loss if she doesn't. The reward is endless, unlike that bill paying which only means you can keep your stuff a little longer. How you represent you can last forever, even long after you're gone. Just imagine your spirit leaning against the wall like a shadow that needs no one to keep it standing strong... You can lean the same way and be remembered with love... But again, I'm just rambling... *smile*

Bob Marley

BM 

"One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain..."

Bob Marley-Trenchtown Rock

Today I was really feeling some old school Bob Marley back in the day when he was making music with the Wailers. Trenchtown Rock, Concrete Jungle, Catch A Fire ... The rawness of the music and the way the guitars are almost scratching the beat; you can't resist nodding your head and stompin your foot when that kick drum hits the floor... Just like Bob said, when it hits you feel no pain. It feels good! It's a shame that we have to lose people and ride on the wings of memories but I guess it's necessary.. Right now I'm riding out on the feel good sound of Natty Dread.

Cheers to the romantic dreamer called me...

Billie 

What causes a woman to lose her spirit? I guess I've always wanted to be that mysterious gentleman riding in for the sole purpose of making a woman's life beautiful. Unfortunately, I've run into brick walls known as reality and tasted the bitterness of issues beyond my control; more reality. But even still, I dream... I love the romantic notion of being that hero in a woman's heart or perhaps affecting her life in such a way that I forever remain a memory that she can pull from the air and say "thank you; I know why you were there for me."

My thoughts bring to mind the times when I use to imagine going back in time and saving the life of Billie Holiday. I was very young then. I used to think about this so much that I'd end up dreaming about it as I slept at night. The dreams played out with me romancing Ms. Holiday, sharing conversations that revealed her shyness, and eventually seeing her on television accepting her lifetime achievement award at the Grammy's, which meant that she'd survived and lived a long and beautiful life. Strangely enough, I'd always die at the end of my dreams about Billie Holiday. Typically it was at the hands of her jealous lover.. I guess being a romantic comes with a price tag...It's always worth it when you can see a woman with a special gift, shine for the world to see be it in the spotlight or just walking down the street, struttin with a smile on her face... I called it "A Change Of Day."

The First Cut Is The Deepest

Mirror 

A cold chill awakened me. It felt like someone was rubbing a piece of ice against the side of my face. It took me a while before I'd realize that I was struggling to climb out of a dream I was having. The dream was very strange because I was somewhere in the country, dressed like a slave. I was wearing some kind of old white dress and I didn't have any shoes on. I dont care how bad my situation is; I would never wear clothes like that in real life.

I was standing with a group of other slaves. They were talking about some kind of wagon pulling up soon with something that the master been waiting for. I was just standing there trippin off of the fact that I was having this kind of dream. I'm thinking that maybe all those stories that my family in Louisiana used to tell me about sunk in a little deeper than I'd realized. Now years later, everything they said is coming up to the surface for reasons that I'm not clear about.

As the dream continued, that wagon finally showed up. It was coming fast and kicking up a lot of dirt and rocks. A lot of us had to cover our faces because some of the tiny pebbles were shooting in our direction.

"What's that there?" Somebody shouted behind me.

Before any of us could answer, a very bright reflection shined in our eyes. It was as if someone shined a spotlight into the crowd. It happened for a brief second and once the wagon passed us by, the light was gone. That's when I could see the reason for what happened. There was this really huge mirror sitting inside. Some white man; I guess he was the master kept yelling for everybody to stay back and dont come near the wagon when it stopped. I wasn't concerned about no damn wagon. I was trying to figure out what the hell I was doing in this dream. Then something crazy happened. One of the wagon's wheels went over this rock and the man driving it lost control. The horses were going one way and the wagon went another. Then before anybody could react to what was about to happen, that wagon flipped on its side and the mirror hit the ground; shattering into pieces. One of the women standing near me mumbled something. I looked at her and waited for her to say something else.

She said "serves him right..." and then she walked away.

I was gonna follow the lady but then everybody that was standing behind me followed those in front of me and ran toward the shattered pieces of mirror. I couldn't run against what felt like a wave of energy pulling me in the opposite direction of where I wanted to go so I joined the crowd. The slaves were picking up pieces of the mirror and acting like they'd seen a ghost. It was no big deal to me because I knew what it was.

"Y'all leave those be, ya hear!" The master shouted.

Hearing that white man screaming like he lossed his damn mind was incentive for me to grab my own piece of that mirror just to be rebellious. I picked up a piece that was large enough for me to look at my entire face reflecting inside. I hid it underneath my dress as soon as I seen that white man and a couple others running over and pushing some of the slaves that still held a piece in their hands. Before they could get to me, I was able to sneak behind all the commotion going on and walk out toward the large green field in the distance. I didn't know where I was going but it looked safer than sticking around where I was. Eventhough this was a dream, I could still feel what was going on as if I were actually living it instead of just watching. When I felt a little moisture at my fingertips, I looked at my hands and saw blood. I'd cut myself when picking up the piece of mirror. I'd felt the sting when it pricked my finger. That was really strange to me. Then again, this whole dream made no sense.

When I made my way to the wooded area just on the other side of the green field, I sat down because I was tired for some reason. It felt like I'd walked miles when I'd probably only walked a few feet. I dont know. It was strange because I could no longer see the commotion that I'd left behind but I knew I didn't walk that damn far. I looked at myself in the mirror. I actually wasn't sure I was looking at myself. My eyes looked different. They were sort of a light hazel color rather than dark brown. My skin tone was just a shade lighter and it looked flawless. I no longer had the scar on my cheekbone that had gotten there when I fell and hit my face on a sprinkler in our backyard when I was a kid. I didn't have the one or two blemishes from not taking care of my skin like I should. I looked really pretty but it was a trip because I didn't recognize my own eyes. It was as if I'd possessed someone else's vision and it was rolling around inside my head like two little hazel colored marbles, moving from side to side.

I was completely taken by what I'd seen, reflected by the mirror. So much so that it felt like I were hypnotizing myself. I say that because my eyes felt like they were being forced to close; I was so tired. I fell asleep right there in that tall green grass, leaned against an oak tree. And then, I dont know what happened or how long I'd been sleeping but I was awakened by the cold chill of something against my face. When I opened my eyes, it took a few seconds before my vision could focus. When it did, I saw a young black man smiling over me and then I felt a sharp pain. This man held the mirror up and I could see my bloodied reflection. My face had been cut very deeply, just below my cheekbone. I screamed as loud as I could and that's when everything went silent. My dream had turned pitch black and I couldn't see nor hear a thing. I was scared and yet, I was actually awake at this time. I didn't want to open my eyes for fear that someone would be standing over me, waiting to see what I'd do. I laid there as if I were playing dead. I waited until I could feel the sun beaming through my window as it normally did around seven in the morning. When I felt the sun, that's when I woke up. It was just a dream, I told myself. It was just a dream?

The First Cut Is The Deepest
Copr.2005

2 My Ears, They Move My Soul...

Classics to my ears! 

My uncle used to say to me and everybody else that this music would never last. He couldn't imagine this stuff grabbing hold of somebody and making them reminisce in the way that an old Motown joint would. But ya know what? Whew.. I've got memories for days and days and dayzzzzz... Tonight I was listening to The Wake Up Show with Sway and Tech. They were playing some Hip Hop Classics in celebration of a CD they have coming out. They played some stuff that I used to love like crazy! I mean, some of it I would be blasting from my speakers while cruising down Crenshaw Boulevard in the early 90's. I even remember listening to an NWA song with my windows rolled down and an angry glare on my face. Brothas was hanging off the side and center islands on "The Shaw" aka Crenshaw and cars were backed up all the way down the street. I got a little attention because of the song playing. That infamous one dedicated to police officers. Not the Ice T cut but the NWA one. Smile. Funny thing though, when I looked to the side, I saw a limo with Marley Marl looking right at me out of the rear window. I guess he was marveling at my nerve to be playing that song so loud. I marveled too but the beat sounded so good coming from my Nissan 240 SX. That's what I was driving back then...

Tonight, I could feel that Hip Hop magic in my bones as The Wake Up Show played Ain't No Half Steppin by Big Daddy Kane, You Gots To Chill by EPMD and Slowdown by Brand Nubian. I could visualize everything from the cruising to days and nights listening to KDAY to driving deep inside South Central LA playing "AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted" to that thumpin beat of "My Philosophy" to Fab Five Freddy and YO MTV Raps! Those were some good days and I didn't even realize it back then, which typically is the case. You never know what you got until you find yourself looking back on it years later... I miss it all.

What Was February Really?

Powerful 

Black history month seemed like a farce to me.. I didn't really see much within it to celebrate with the exception of the amazing moment that I witnessed when Jamie Foxx won the Oscar award for best actor. When they showed the clips of his Oscar nominated competition, I smiled... I said to myself, they dont even come close to what Jamie did... Thank God the powers that be who give out that award could clearly see that too...

But anyway, despite that moment it seemed like what I heard most during the month of February was a bunch of nonsense like 50 Cent and The Game fighting over stuff that matters not in the whole scheme of life and what we hopefully are placed on this planet for. Where's the love? Where's the support for one another? We're like fish in a tank(that we dont own) fighting each other and everybody is watching... Everybody is laughing too and quite a few are imitating the negative that we put out, which is the sad tragedy of it all because instead of taking away from this month the pride and dignity of Jamie Foxx setting the stage on fire with respect, humility, LOVE, and an awesome display of talent, we have fools setting the stage for what? Another round of rap wars? Loss of life because we got millionaires with un-focused minds and mentalities that refuse to take it to the next level in a positive way? Reflect what you been through but show that a rose can truly grow from concrete, to paraphrase Tupac.

Black History.... Hmm.. I'd like for everyday of next February to include a roll call of black people/African Americans who truly give us reason to smile with pride whenever we step into a room or fill out forms where we check the little box. Lets have local radio stations sound off with a powerful voice similar to either James Earl Jones or Avery Brooks (my favorite) and have them read a list of names... whew.... it would be a powerful experience just to listen and allow your mind to fill up with images and thoughts ranging from intelligent, survivor, gifted, passionate and beautiful, to intense, gorgeous and inspirational.. You will be inspired and you will also sit in amazement and say damn, what am I doing with my life? Black is truly beautiful but not enough folks know what that truly means or even represents... The knowing makes us strong and the caring allows us to live...