Scents

Dirty clothes
Dirty dishes
Crumpled sheets
Ashes

An aroma

Lifts the through the haze.
Sinks into the nasal passages
Holds me
Tight
Tighter
The clock beat quickens
The memories flood

You

Chocolate luscious
Sweet sticky
Melting in fingers
Free
Stunning
Gaze averting
Dangerous
Graced... mine eyes

A heartbeat ago...

I want it now!!


You linger... your scent

-J

Everyday the 14th

So today, the 15th, around water coolers, coffee makers and over lunchtime beers guys are comparing what their significant others got them for VDay. They're oooo'ing and awww'ing over new remote controls or the free rounds of golf they were given. They are giving fist bumps for walking in the door to find that reservations were made to their favorite Brewery. You know, the one with a hundred different types of beers and... Wait, yesterday was for the ladies. On a day that is supposed to be for lovers, I’m sorry but it seems very one sided from where I sit. Hmm.
Men often receive balloons, heart shaped cookies or worse yet, stuffed animals! That’s what you like, not me. Next to a bad Christmas gift, the best acting is done by guys who love their new bed hogging stuffed bear or the boxers with the little hearts on them.

“Wow, I’ve *ALWAYS* wanted these!”

Why is that? Andre3000 said it best on the hit Outkast double album Speakerboxx & The Love Below. Happy Valentine's Day is the song and once I heard it I smiled. Finally, someone put the truth on wax about this day. We believe in silky myths rather than love. Everyday loving and not just the one day. Make it an everyday thing. Novel idea. Sadly, it was never released as a single and not a staple on radio station playlists. Yet, I digress…

Instead on this, the day after for lovers, most men are judged upon how they did yesterday. Yep, judged on the actions of one 24 hr period. It's the measuring stick for the rest of the year. F'up by either not acknowledging VDay or purchase a "less than" satisfactory gift(s) and you are in for a long rest of the year. Nevermind the various romantic trips in the past year, the surprise gifts, dinner at your favorite restaurants throughout the year, etc. All that when you “mess up” VDay turns to…ash. Your status goes from keeper to a coulda been in her and her friends’ eyes.

A co-worker commented that anniversaries make far more sense because they are more personal. A holiday that corresponds to a couples' actual special day. I tend to agree. Does it make sense to make such sweeping declarations of love on this day simply Hallmark and FTD convinced you to? I think not.

There is another aspect though, you can't beat the reaction. For all my above hate, I am not a fool. Flowers delivered to work? Check! A sweet card? Check! Her favorite dinner afterwards planned for the 14th? Check, check! The phone call, text or email you receive makes it all worthwhile. The more exotic the bouquet, the longer the appreciation. Hmm, flowers which are different than all her co-workers? SCORE! Smiles for days! Dinner at a restaurant she's been hinting about? SCORE! Mmmm…extra affection for a few days. In the moments after your Valentine's Day gifts are given and accepted, you put aside your disdain in the name of making someone else happy.

In the name of love.

-J

(contrib FL & CW & TJ)

The New Adventures Began Like This (part one)

My blog seems a bit empty and I really don’t feel like I have anything earth shattering to say at this point, so I am going to go back. Back to a time in which the month of October meant 80 degree temperatures and the State Fair of Texas was a yearly wait and see tradition of mine (wait-and-see if I will actually go). I was living in Texas and feeling the need for something different. Antsy. My position at my job at the time was… shaky at best and my lease was going to be up in a few months. Thus it was during this time (and my subsequent layoff) these odd voices swirled around in my little head.

“Move to the frigid north!! Go to New-“

The new part never finished, but there was certainly a movement afoot. It really seemed to start back when my dad was alive. He and my mother would talk of their time in NYC. Staying out late, the music… the food. They spoke of his visits to my mother in the south Bronx where people were requiring tolls to pass through certain neighborhoods. I, the Boston-born-Texas raised kid, would in turn shake my head and quietly call them brainwashed behind their backs.
It’s cold, it’s old and dreary. Why would I want to go there? Sure I had friends who either visited or used to live there. Each of them with their own flavored tales of NY life. Each with an odd glow about them as they enthusiastically described what they did while there. I would quietly roll my eyes and mutter “whatever” because I wasn’t feeling it. If the place was all that, why are you standing here in Texas?
Now, did I have a curiosity about this place? Sure, who isn’t curious as to how (and *WHY*) 10 million-plus ill tempered people squeeze onto a tiny island(s) and love it so. I have passed through NY a few times in life. Visited both airports pre-911 and been driven through parts of Queens. My curiosity was tempered when I visited Toronto and London a few times and were told they were nicer versions of NYC. That there was good enough for me. That Toronto was a cleaner version and London’s subway system and shopping were on par with the Big Apple. Add in Miami and it’s huge NY influence with warm weather and hell.. why would I want to go to NYC??

“Your mother and I loved it and you would too..”

Yet, the seeds were planted and they took root. So much so that one day when it was suggested I move to New… gulp.. Jersey, I didn’t gag as much as one would think I should have. I have things to say about the Garden State, but that’s for another time. The Jersey idea was being pitched again as it has been in the past by the same friend with a twist.

“Yeah, we’re like 30-45 mins from NY and it’s waaay cheaper here”

Again, this statement will be re-visited another time in the saga. At the time… sounded like a perfect idea. Get over the cold phobia and live somewhere outside of the Lone Star state. So I packed it all up and planned my trek east.

To be continued…

-J

Pour One For The "R"

A few years ago my dear friend Pickle told me of this guy she was talking to. She spoke of him highly and I listened along happily and then she sent me a link and suggested I read it. She told me it was a “blog”. “What the hell is that,” I asked her and she explained it in a few minced jumbled words; the bottom line was read it. This was the first version of what is now the R Spot and the writings were of the man who would later become her husband, Reggie. Back then, however, I was very slow on the uptake and regarded this with skepticism. I read a couple of items as she happily spoke of his writings. I had to admit, I was hatin a little but the man wrote well.

The two of them progressed along and time began to pass. Pickle and I didn’t talk as often and I found myself chatting with her online and playing catch up. At some point in the conversation, she asked me if I had a blog and I replied that no one would want to read it. Somehow the conversation stirred back towards her writer boyfriend and something he wrote which now escapes me. I can say it struck me enough to go to Yahoo 360 (and later to Blogger) and create a blog. The rest is bad history I guess.

The blog he wrote often carried thoughts of a Colorado-minded brotha who was living in the mad world of Southern California. He often wrote of various observations, be they of a political nature, sports or just entertainment in general. He truly excels and enjoys touching on more than just the “nightly news issues” or the primetime offerings of the Big 4 networks. He delves into trying to make light of things that may have gone under readers’ noses, especially in the vast land of cable television watching (his post on the 2007 television season is a brief look into what I have enjoyed).

It seems that the R-Spot is about to undergo a major face lift and I felt the need to pay my respects to my blogging sensei. When I first sat down to write his blog was what came to mind. “How can I be interesting and amusing?” “How can I talk about topics as they run through my head and flow them onto the screen for someone to roll their eyes at?” I am a guy, who took a couple of years of journalism back in high school, trying to write based on the blog of a person who is paid to write as his 9 to 5. It’s not going to measure up, but I have to try right?

Before it disappears take a peek at some of the posts at the R-Spot.

-J

Welcome to the Eastside

Last Wednesday I went to my first art gallery opening. Not surprisingly, I was a little concerned about what to throw on. I know I am not a very fashionable person and since my relocation to the east, it has become painfully obvious…I look like a tourist. Or something to that effect. In other words, I ain’t from here. I prefer to fit in where I go and what I wear should reflect. Wear what makes you comfortable? Eh, I like dress for the occasion better.

So I tossed on an older charcoal wool long sleeve, some baggy jeans, black leather coat and black lace up boots and set off with one of my new housemates. Said housemate invited me because I was sitting there with nothing to do and took pity on me. Thus, we drove over to the Chelsea area and parked. Now let me say once out of our chariot, I suddenly realized how wrong this looked. She was an outfit complete with handmade crème jacket and exposed red stitching, blue top, nicer jeans and fusha shoes. What she had screamed spring and fresh. Me.. not so much. More prince of darkness –ish.

We fell into a boutique where I felt my 6’2 frame shrink to 2 feet tall. The immaculate nature of the outfits the people in the store were wearing caused me to really start thinking about what I had on. The immaculately trimmed beards in contrast to my two day old scruff, the nice black tops to my weathered jacket with a mysterious patch of dirt on it and their high polished shoes to my.. oo.. lets let that go. The once over I received from of the salesmen told me my ish was all wrong.

So as they complemented my housemates outfit, I kept thinking how tight everything was she had on… but didn’t get the shoes. As I stood and pondered this, she says something about ‘these things? Prada baby!! Pleaaase’. With that she took off the shoe and displayed the logo on the inside. I had to shake my head after that. I don’t need to look like them, per se, but I didn’t need to look like I didn’t care about what I wore as well.

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.