Lessons Of The Father

My father would often dispense little bits of wisdom to me growing up. Some things I took to heart, other items went in one ear and out the other. Those are the ones which would later on in life come back to haunt me. This won’t be eloquent, as he’d say, nor will it all be nice. I wanted to take a moment and share a few.

Lesson 12: Winning Doesn’t Exist and Sticking With The Pick

I recall being introduced to sports one Sunday afternoon. Well, it’s actually just my earliest actual recollection, but I watched the team whose helmet I had sitting out in the backyard and played with everyday, the Dallas Cowboys. The year is 1978 and the Boyz are in the Super Bowl playing the Pittsburgh Steelers. My father explained some of the rules to me, but I recall being lost as I watched on. As the game continued, I saw my team in white lose to the ones in black. The following fall as would be the traditional location for years to come, my father was planted in front of the television watching NFL on Sunday. The Cowboys were not playing until later, but I wanted to stay and watch with the old man. I would ask who was playing and he would tell me.

“The Chicago Bears vs the Oakland Raiders.”
“Oh, where are they playing?”
“Out in Oakland.”
“Oh… what is that??”
“Oakland is a city like Dallas, but far away from here.”
“Oh. where is it?”
“Look it up on the globe over there son. Find California and I will show you.”
“Ok. Who is winning?”
“Oakland is ahead in the 4th quarter.”
“Oooh so Oakland is going to win!! Ok, goo Oakland!!”

At this point my father shot a look at me as though I had just spoiled the end of a book he was reading or given away a surprise ending to a movie.

“No son, being ahead doesn’t mean winning. You haven’t won until the clock reads 0:00. Then you have won. There’s no such thing as winning a game. There’s either being ahead or behind. You either win or you lose in sports.”

He went further.

“You pick your team from the beginning and you stick with them through the game. Picking a team because it’s ahead is not very sporting. Pick the team and stick with them.”

I chose Chicago that day because I liked their uniforms. Oakland did go on to win and this interchange began a series of Sunday geography lessons (“You want to know where the Cleveland Browns are?? Go look it up”) and sportsmanship tutorials (“Taunt me today if you want, your team will lose one day and you won’t like someone sticking a finger in your face now will you?”). I would watch the Cowboys pull out wins in the closing minutes of games as well as watch them lose leads. The second part of what he said held true as well as the Cowboys stayed my team through the lean years as have the Los Angeles Lakers (1979), the New York Yankees (1981)/ the Mets (1986), etc.

-J

RIP Fellas

Today, I want to state, it’s been a great season. One filled with surprises and unexpected greatness. Yet, on this Father’s Day, my dad would have enjoyed the events which are about to unfold in the Los Angeles Staples Center in a few hours. No, this is not a salute to him, but to the hometown Lakers who are about to break the hearts of millions of fans and bring to an end a season which went well beyond anyone’s expectations. It’s the unexpected winners of the NBA Western Conference who are about to walk out on the court for the last time this year to mercifully bow down to a powerful Boston Celtics team and hand them yet another championship.

My father would love the irony. His adult son and diehard Lakers fan dealing with the angst of Lakers fans during his early to mid 20’s when each summer it seemed, the two teams would do battle. Each time, my Lakers would come out on the short end of a Bill Russell led Celtics team. He was the one he reminded me it was a long seven game series in the mid 80’s when the two basketball titans renewed their rivalry. My early celebrations or dejected looks after series openers have given way to a semi-ambivalence to early games in a series.

It’s with that, I watched this team walk into Boston and contend with fast whistles from refs and cold shooting to lose. No panic, this was not my team playing at it’s best. Game two I had hoped might be a steal, but again early whistles seemed to hamper their play early on. A fast and furious comeback allowed them to save a little face and head back to LA with some hope. Their best basketball was yet to be played.

Game 3. The announcers say it, the Analysts say it, the old man used to always tell me Game 3 is the make or break game in a series (actually he said 3&4, but I am being dramatic here). Indeed these Lakers came out and.. squeaked out a win. Then Game 4 and the real Western Conference Champs appeared… for all of the first 20 minutes of the game. With a foot on the throat of the Celtics and finally some even calls, I recall tuning out of the recording I made of the game thinking it was over and was off to bed. It was a click on to the Washington Post’s website which sent me spiraling. They f*n lost??? WHAT?? Indeed, this last four minutes of the first half I believe showed why Boston won (aside from the momentum changing fraudulent blocking foul on Bryant against Pierce in the closing minutes).

1) The G-Force : Garnett became the number one option when the Celtics went into their half court set. Guarded by either Gasol, Turiaf or Odom, KG abused his defender and got to the basket or found the open man on a slow double team by the Lakers defense. I suspect tonight will be much more of the same as the Lakers only hope to stopping this…

2) Bynum: Has FINALLY had surgery on his knee. I am not sure what the trainers/medical staff for LA has been doing the past few months, but to wait until the playoffs to diagnose the true severity of Bynum’s injury is nothing short of amazing. The ONE person this team has who is young enough, talented enough to keep KG at bay is sitting on the bench in street clothes. And…

3) Gasol: Has shrunk from being a solid number two option in the Western Conference playoffs to a matador. His lack of speed shows as he can no longer get open anymore and unable to rebound. Not sure but this sounds a lot like…

4) Odom: who like the above mentioned Gasol, has turned into a big pumpkin before our eyes. Saddled often with fouls due to his reckless ways when driving to the basket and lowered scoring production… is it just me or does the man just not want to dunk the ball?? His flipping the ball in is the most frustrating things.. noo.. I take that back… the MOST frustrating part of this team is…

5) Jumpshot-itis: against an opponent that does not give hard fouls and is consistently collapsing down on Kobe, this team finds it faaar more rewarding to settle for a 20 plus foot jump shot or unnecessary three pointer attempt than to drive in for the easy basket. Lacking the rebounding presence of the foul plagued and star struck Gasol and Odom, this team continues to shoot up miss after miss after miss. Against a slower Celtics team, these Lakers seem content to stay as far away from the basket as possible. Sure Jordan Farmar and Kobe drive to the hole with success. But others seem far more concerned with chipping a nail or getting bumped around. The more you drive, the more likely you are to get calls as you initiate contact with the defender. Also, just as the old man tried to teach and Shaq & Bynum love to show off, the closer you get, the higher you percentage of shooting is.

All I can say is… it has been quite the season. I look forward to watching KG or Pierce being named Finals MVP tonight after two very long and distinguished careers. Kobe will get his gold medal this summer completing two thirds of Michael Jordan’s league MVP, Finals Championship/MVP and gold medal season. Bynum will hopefully recover in time for the start of the season and this team will start the new season as favorites to win it all. However, tonight… the Celtics will dance.

Fellas, get your fishing hats ready.

Not The Same.... Tim Russert

I am not a long time subscriber to the Church of Russert as some are every Sunday morning. The Church being NBC’s 60 year old news show Meet The Press. Tim Russert, the show’s host of nearly 20 years, passed away earlier today from a heart attack. The news of his death caught me (as well as I am sure many others) off guard as I was looking forward to seeing him on the show this Sunday, a Hallmark holiday I dread, Father’s Day. During his time, Meet The Press maintained semi objective manner with Russert skewering and seeking answers from guests without playing partisan politics. Democrats and Republicans alike had to not only answer for current deed/misdeeds, but Russert also would call on them to expound upon prior comments made in other venues or on other shows.

I recently came to subscribe to watching the show earlier this presidential primary season. His direct yet not “in-your-face” manner of questioning was refreshing. Unlike McLaughlin or This Week where the host put themselves in front of the issues, Russert was about giving the viewer the truth and the show’s name continued to stand for that, the truth, not hosts ideology. One Fox News colleague likened him to tv lawyer Perry Mason with his dogged manner for getting answers. His appearances on various other NBC and MSNBC shows brought instant credibility to the segments as his political knowledge and love of politics often shown through. At times this spring, he seemed like a kid in candy store when discussing primary results and what came next for the candidates.

As I watched the numerous accolades being lauded upon him by journalists on all networks (including Fox and CNN) I was touched for reasons I really wasn’t aware of. Saddened by this man’s passing whom I never met and had only come to really know of within the last few months. The man was like a pseudo “tv dad” for me. Much of what Russert said reminded me of listening to my own dad talking to me about politics.

It was his manner of taking either side and asking the questions to get to the core of an issue that reminded me of my father. Probing and seeking answers rather accepting half truths and letting sleeping dogs lay. My dad would often sit my brother and I down at the kitchen table and ask questions about what we learned in school, had read in the newspaper or just our opinion on news events. We often were called upon to not only explain aspects of our views, but to back up things we said as well. Site them our sources. He had his views as well, but made it a point to get us to truly explain what we meant and see if we truly understood the issue. What he thought was secondary to getting us to explain what we truly meant or thought. I often saw that in Russert on Sundays.

Tim Russert, you will be sorely missed.

Tell It Like You See It

Tattling. I tell younger folks not to do it. No one likes a tattle tail. It was how I was raised. Don’t tattle on your brother is what I was told. Work it out amongst yourselves. However, if someone else wrongs him or you, then you most certainly make it known.

This is the mini code I live by. If it’s in the family, you keep it quiet and work it out as needed. Outsiders.. another story. This goes for minor property damages and fighting. Once it goes beyond that, then in my book, the authorities need be involved. For example…

My brother was unfortunate to get in a confrontation with gang members after they attended a “take back the neighborhood” meeting. Seems their leaders informed them they were being a bit slack in enforcing their turf. Thus a carload of young men had just finished wrecking havoc at a service station and were following a car in which the mother had two small children in the back when they saw my brother’s car ahead and sped up. A few words were exchanged between vehicles and shots fired into his car. The last bit is the witnesses accounts. People saw what happened and reported what followed. No witness report, no justice.

I just saw Cam’ron’s interview with Anderson Cooper. I watched it and shook my head. It can’t be that simple. You can’t tell people straight up not to talk to the police about crimes. My brother’s murderers were pointed out to police canvassing the area by witnesses as they drove back by the same area to seemingly admire their handiwork. Their speaking up made it much easier for the police to bring them to justice. But assume for a moment they lived under the code of ‘Not Snitching’. What would have happened then?

I did a quick search and found a horribly slanted, but somewhat informative article about snitching. While informative, it appears to take one down the path of Black ignorance. That this slogan is only about not telling on others. It isn’t until one reaches the very very bottom of the article the truth comes out. There is a code to not Snitching. Allow me to point a few of my favs as stated by Rayco Saunders, one of the interviewees in the article.

Don't snitch on others just to save yourself. "Stop snitching is for those guys out there ... selling more drugs than Noriega, and their only out is to tell on somebody. ... If a (criminal) wants to be a Good Samaritan, OK. But send (him) to jail. Don't give him immunity to do what he wants on the street."

Now understand. From where I sit, this means other criminals, not innocent citizens. And your drug dealer is typically not going to be called on for something minor. I might be wrong, but immunity is generally offered up for something serious. So this would sort of fall back on those who offer the immunity in the first place, now wouldn’t it? Just a thought to keep in mind, at the trials of my brother’s murderers, it is alleged the triggerman (with a wrap sheet a mile long) was an immunity-clad informant for the police.

Stop Snitching doesn't mean stop talking to police. "It's always misconstrued by the public, or the powers that be, that we're trying to intimidate the regular people or the law-abiding citizens. That's not what it's about. ... If that is your only outlet, to call the police, that's what you do."

There is an episode of the television cartoon The Boondocks in which one of the main characters wants to hold to the non-snitching code after his grandfather’s highly customized car is stolen front from right in of him. When questioned about the crime, he sticks to the code of not snitching believing he is doing right by the community. In what way is this helping? The show ends with grandfather’s car being recovered and Riley’s convictions being put to the test when his prized bike is taken from him by the same criminals. Tell or not?

But witnesses have no obligation to help police. "Do your job — you're the police. ... I've been wronged by the system. Do you think I would help the system? ... Do cops snitch on other cops?"

The authorities can't protect witnesses. "What's happening to the innocent witness? They get dead or ... terrorized for life."

There are two different points and yet, this is why I can understand not snitching. First, when a person helps the police, they become ostracized in the community. I mean honestly with Rodney King and other famous cases of police abuse, why should I trust them? Seriously, I fear driving in some parts of my community because of the police, not the actual people. My supposed protector doesn’t actually protect. They seem to spend more time trying to figure out how are able to afford 22” chrome rims than try to see to it children walking home have some sort of police presence to possibly ward off those who would do them harm. It’s not highly publicized, but I get the impression from movies and various television shows, witnesses are not too well protected by the authorities. Soo the people who do come forward to assist are not safe and yet the term civic duty is tossed at them and laid around their neck like an albatross if they don’t assist. My civic duty entails reporting something I happened to see or have innate knowledge of and it could cost, not only mine, but the lives of friends/family/others close to me? Damn, at least my folks would offer up not spanking my brother and the promise of no retribution from me to get him to tell the truth if it boiled down to it.

Sure, it sounds hood and cool to say, Stop Snitching. It looks great when you don’t come forward about things you know. Seriously.. who are you helping? Biggie Smalls and Tupac lay dead with unsolved murders because no one is coming forward. Even better yet, what if it were your family? What then?

You Couldn't Keep It To Yourself

Sooo... I am looking at it like this. Barbara Walters kept her mouth shut for... not days... not months... not even just years, but decades man! Decades!! No one has passed (adultress nor adulter that is..) but her momma yet she felt the need now to unload her conscience? Now when you can capitalize on the sensationalism of it?

Does she talk to ol boy about it? Naw.. reportedly she sends a message telling him its going to be in her book in the next week or so. Tough ish, deal with it.

Now.. my man could have capitalized on having continuously shtooked BW... BW!! He could have gotten some money off that in the 80's or 90's heck.. even when The View started.. “I had an affair with the then unknown Barbara Walters.” Think of the headlines? Think of the warm water BW would have been in.

Naw.. he kept it quiet.

Saved her reputation.

The former Senator even wrote and released his own memoirs in 2006. Not a mention of it in there according to the Associated Press article.

This here... naw.. this was low.

Why not describe your favorite positions? Favorite places you had sex...hell.. make up that you had sex in an alley with an ex-hubby. I understand scandal sells. You don't admit to having an affair when the fool is still alive many years later. That train left a while ago. Thank you BW, o’ queen of morality.

Parts of... Da List

I was watching Reaper and one of the characters, Ben, pulled out a list and started listing the qualities and characteristics he sought in a woman. Nothing new nor earth shattering about this. However, his requests of piercing blue eyes and a love of Mixed Martial Arts caused me to think of how MY list has changed over the years.

Ahh.. the first list I recall was in high school. I had a hang up on a particular girl at the time. She was everything I envisioned in perfection. Very smart, musically inclined, nice big brown eyes and developed (I liked all shapes even back then).

Please allow me to sidebar here… So how did I show this girl my appreciation? Like a school boy I spent the better half of our freshman year teasing her about her weight gain. Yes, I did call her the “f” word to her face. Not just once, but multiple times. I was just teasing, because I truly liked her the way she was, but didn’t exactly know how to communicate this to her. Thus, when a little maturity set in, I was already getting the silent treatment.

Fast forward to our sophomore year and I don’t recall when I apologized but I did for we were on speaking terms and I.. err.. I was not let off that easily. Through out high school, I came into a number of different kinds of sweaters. Some old, some second hand. Each was very very different from the others. There was the white Izod tennis sweater, the “puke” yellow wool one, a Kelly green v-neck and a few others I can’t or prefer not to recall. These sweaters did not escape the attention of the lady as she dubbed said sweaters a part of “Jamal’s Ugly Sweater Collection”. This was a running joke for her (I wasn’t laughing.. I liked almost all my sweaters) for two years. Over the last couple years we drifted apart running in different circles yet she remained what my original list was based on.

I digress…

From there the list has changed at various points. The “after” high school list included things like having her own car, swearing properly and fun to be around. A few years later, early 20’s subtracted the car (it’s an assumption at this point) and added the love of sports and had her own place. Also she had to like hamburgers. I was truly simple back in those days. She didn’t even have to like my music or need to drive a stick shift. Shortly after my first real girlfriend, I added the oddball, must get along with parents and siblings. Yeah, there’s a story there and if you offer me the right drink, you’ll get it.

Mid 20’s come and the list has been beefed up as I feel I am older and much more in tune with my true needs. Thus, a woman who understands wine and another language make the list as does the less “make-up is better” rule. I have come to realize.. I am just not a fan of someone who has to put on her face everyday and won’t go out in public without it. Nah, it’s just not for me. The swearing has been removed from the list and replaced with flirtatious. Yeah, a woman who could make me blush on the sly was first added then. Sure, I added politics (liberals only) and a love for various types of music (yeah, now you had to deal with my music), but this still remained a pretty similar list from high school days.

Late 20’s saw marriage… and quick divorce. This led to a lot of alone time and soul searching. My soul searching taught me I needed to add a woman who can cook to my list. Oooh how I missed a decent home cooked meal. The creativity and conversations which sprung up from meals… and umm.. I truly hate tipping. I tip properly, but I don’t care for having to do it. This is also the time when travel pops up. Indeed, she must like to travel beyond the boundaries of the great nation of Texas. We have added to the list “no salad only eaters”. As in, the woman who only eats tiny meals once or twice a day.. nooo way. That’s not to say she needs to eat the same junk as I, but please, the I have to watch my figure/weight comments every meal… no, that had to go.

Since then… well, certainly there have been additions and subtractions from my little list. Accents get bonuses as well as the ability to enjoy a good laugh often. I dropped the total liberal requirement in favor of anything not conservative and give another bonus to stick shift drivers (or willingness to learn how). The ability to communicate shot to the top of my list (look back at my other blog entries and you will get the point) as did the wanting/ability to show new things.

There are a ton of other things on the list I am not going to bore you with. Needless to say, its going to be interesting to see what ends up happening. Oh, as of this week’s episode, it looks like Ben might have find the woman on his list.

I walked out of the dark into a well lit office building. The clock read 6:45 a.m. My eyes were still half closed as the haze in my mind begins to lift. Then… then I see her. She has a smile on her face, which contrasts my frown. I avert my eyes from her as we walk towards one another. She knows why. Surely, she isn’t going to say it; she has to know the state I am in. She sees my pain!! She won’t do it. She starts to walk past; I begin to silently praise her for making the transition easier, and then...she does it. She says the words I dread most.

“GOOD MORNING”

As I see it, the two worst words I used to hear during the day “good morning”. The words make me cringe. I am happy to see another day, please don’t get me wrong.. But I can’t take people being THAT happy first thing in the morning, which for me is any time before noon.

Ugh! Why? Please excuse me for preferring life after the two hands on the clock meet at 12. During the work week, I used to come in at 7a and not feel like moving until 11 or noon’ish. After that, I was your man. At 8a, I don't want breakfast, reading material, chit-chat. I want to go back to sleep and make this nightmare end. I see morning this way; it's like eating oatmeal while wishing I had a large juicy burger or a steak...filling but entirely unsatisfying.

Morning people talk gloriously about their breakfasts! They smile and speak of the syrup smothered pancakes and waffles they threw back while sipping on glorious breakfast blend coffee and reading the morning paper. They want to wax poetically about the beauty of the amazing sun rise and the joy of hearing birds chirping.

There, confronted with of her pert, bright-eyed exuberance, I faced a dilemma: toss my prized Sumatran coffee, my very lifeline, in her perky little face or say good morning through a tight-lipped grimace. No! A fake and very put on grin. No one needs to know that I dislike mornings, or I face being labeled a grouch for the rest of time.

Have you ever not said good morning to someone? Woo, the horrors that can ensue. I have experienced several indignant people in my time who seemed to make it a point to have me pay for not wishing them a “good morning”. My tight lipped grimace and utterance of ‘mornin’ got me called in to an officer once. Something about being nicer to people. Next time, there would be a firing squad for my heinous offense.

But that's work, part of the politics of office life, but why do such rules persist in one's private life as well?

“Heellloooo????”

“Good morning Jamal!! It’s Saturday!! Lets go have breakfast!!”

“Huh?? What time is it? Who is this??”

“It’s time for you to get up!! Come on, meet me for a great breakfast! You’re not going to sleep the weekend away are you?? Come on!! Let’s go!!”

“(sigh) This isn’t happening to me…”

I have a friend, let's call her Tasha Jackson, who occasionally texts or calls me on Saturday mornings around 7a.m. Sickening, right? I try to understand. I imagine she wakes up and jumps out of bed with a smile on her face just because it’s Saturday morning. She's that kind, you know? Not that there's anything wrong with that, but No No No...NO CALLING ME! Saturday mornings are for sleeping in, for resting. I smile if I can sleep until 1 p.m. without interruption (hint, hint). So if you care for me...for the love of ...just wait for noon.

"Good Afternoon" has such a nice ring to it! Good Evening sounds even better...!

More later, I need a nap...

-J

Sooo.. I am.. a snob. When it comes to how I view my movies or how my music should sound, I want it to be a certain way. The same thing holds especially true for a live show, I want to hear the artist. I have only seen a few big concerts in my time (Prince, Pink Floyd, Maze) that were spot on excellent shows. THIS … this should have been one of them.

“Hello, my name is Jill Scott”

With that, a beaming lady stood at the microphone in a long flowing animal print blouse and black leggings. Her natural pulled back creating a poof and a sweet melodic voice. Indeed, this should have been Jill Scott. As this woman sang, she touched us with her stories of love and life’s ups and downs. With a small, but spot on group of musicians backing her, this lady entertained the Nokia Centre for nearly a solid 2.5 hours. She ran through a growing repertoire of songs that included her recent hits including Golden, The Fact Is (I Need You), Cross My Mind, as well as some of her soon to be classics (and current crowd favorites) A Long Walk, The Way and He Loves Me (Lyzel In E Flat). All of this, added with tracks from her recently released joint (My Love, Don’t Hate On Me and Crown Royal to name a few), made for a great set. A woman who took time to encourage the artists in the audience to follow their dreams and keep their focused on their idea of making it and not others. With the extremely well lit show… it just should have been one I could rank up with the others. No dancers, no lip syncing, no tight outfits. Just a lady, her backup singers, her band and a few thousand of her newest girlfriends. I say that because often times, I felt I was ease dropping on a Saturday afternoon conversation between two women at an outdoor café. She was real with what she said about her life, love, sex in her songs and various ad-libs.

And yet…

It wasn’t the real Jill Scott. It really wasn’t her golden voice. It was a lady, who appeared to be Ms. Scott, being drowned out at times by her small rhythm section (consisting of a Saxophone, an English Horn and a Trombone), her percussion, keyboards and drummer whose high hat sounded like a drunken nightmare. The bass drum was mixed and mic’d as such I felt there was someone was sitting in the arena bumping their 18” subwoofers. With the full band playing, the singers, Jill and her singers, were quickly drowned out as were our ears. I am not sure who was in charge of sound, but the volume for this show was waay too high. It was like listening to a radio with the squelch turned all the way to max. thus, there were times I couldn’t understand exactly what her ad-libs were much less some of the lyrics. Thankfully, a number of her songs require less in terms of music thus her melodic voice was truly able to be heard. It was truly disheartening after having been to this same arena two years before to see an excellent Maze show. Thus I will not hear of it being an acoustics issue.

I want to see the show again under better circumstances. Ms. Scott plays tonight in Houston and her tour continues through the months of February and March along the east coast.

-J