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

Mmm.. musically, this is the time of year I dearly dread. The same songs being trotted out it seems earlier and earlier. One local radio station has played Christmas music since the beginning of November. Through out the various stores playing older and newer versions of these once a year memories, there are certain songs which remain with me. No matter how many times they are played, I get a wee smile on my face and feel.. well, like a kid again. This is in no particular order and they’re not best or worst. These are just songs I can truly enjoy each Christmas season.


This Christmas – Donny Hathaway (ok, I can hear this song in the heat of Texas summer and still think Christmas is right around the corner)
Do They Know It’s Christmas? (Feed The World) – Band Aid (this song has supposedly been re-made a few times and yet, though instrumentally outdated, though many teens have no clue who Boy George or George Michael are, it remains the favored version on our airwaves come Christmas time.)

Silent night – Temptations (it’s my favorite version for sentimental reasons. Listening to my old man hit those low notes was pretty damn impressive looking back. Thinking back to my tone deaf self trying to sing Eddie Ruffin’s parts was not)

The Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth – David Bowie & Bing Crosby (Interesting reading about it here. I actually listen to this tune year round.as Bowie’s part makes it more universal and even though Crosby didn’t know who the hell Bowie was, the odd combo makes for such a memorable performance. It just goes to show never to judge a book by it’s cover.)

They Got It Right (Memphis Day I)

Editor's Note: This is going to be a pretty boring entry. It's the first of three days in Memphis and I chose to explain a lot in this entry. It will be wordy, it might be boring and downright sterile. I promise to make it up for it on day two. I swear!!

It was a phrase I uttered several times over the course of a recent weekend in the city of Memphis, Tenn. With the excuse of this being a road trip to test out my mother's recently purchased Infiniti FX35, we decided to wander up I-30 and I-40 for a long weekend.

It started with a 1:30a departure from my place and a nice speeding warning from the Cumby city police department (I wasn't driving and that's all I am going to say about that). As I dozed in and out, it was brought to my attention once we go out further towards Arkansas, how many more 18 wheelers there seemed to be on the road. It was like this all the way. Rigs taking over the highway and the numbers seemed to grow the closer we got to Memphis.

Friday morning saw us check in to our economy Ramada Inn in West Memphis, Ark. A brief breakfast and nap before hitting the streets. Our first stop was to be the National Civil Rights Museum. Before we touch on this, just a little note if coming from West Memphis or straight into town from the west, take I-40 into Memphis not I-55. Those who give directions make it seem quicker to take I-55 to the downtown area and in some cases that might be true. There is a curveball thrown at you when attempting to head south on 55, the highway narrows down and forces southbound traffic to exit this 25 mph, single lane exit. Remember those rigs I referred to? Guess who stacks up traffic at least half a mile to a mile back from the actual exit? If you are fortunate to be headed to Riverside (which is north bound) then you have a lot less traffic to face, but the same cloverleaf like exit faces you with yet another twist. The northbound traffic from I-55 has to enter in the same manner merging into the same lane you are exiting. Something only an Aggie could have thought up. But I digress.

We did take the north exit and after testing the acceleration of her SUV, mom and I came upon a park right along the Mississippi River and in the shadows of downtown. We took a moment to take in this large body of water as well as the houses on a cliff overlooking the river. Well out of the floodplain, nice idea. After a brief moment of taking this in, we drove around looking for the museum.

Based in the Lorraine Motel where Martin Luther King was slain, it covers the Struggle starting from the early days of slavery, through Reconstruction and somewhat up to present day. The primary focus of the material covered deals with the civil rights movement in the south starting in the 1930's and culminating with King's assassination. The are brief biographies of a number civil rights leaders and stories pertaining to important events. There is a vast amount of information, which is easier to take in using the audio tour offered when purchasing tickets. Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee alternate narrating the story from Harper's Ferry to Little Rock to Oxford to McComb to Chicago to Memphis and beyond.

It was a very rushed visit. There is a brief ten minute film in an auditorium which has seen better days before beginning your tour. There are actually two wings to the museum. The Civil Rights section is in the "main" wing". Here one goes through meandering through newspaper clippings, television rebroadcasts as well as mock-ups of the bus Rosa Parks sat on, the jail cell MLK wrote his infamous "Letter From Birmingham Jail" as well as other places.

The showstopper is the bedroom where MLK stayed, glassed off and the spot where he stood when he was shot from across the road. It was an awe struck moment for me as I stood and looked across. My mother wanted nothing to do with this spot and passed on entering the room. A narrative of the day of played in the background as I looked around. This was the place where they killed the Dream. I am waaay too young to truly appreciate this monument. Rather, I just tried to gain some sort of understanding, a clue as to why he had to be slain? None was forthcoming.

As I mentioned, we were short on time (arrived a little after 3:30p and the museum closed at 5p) thus we had to rush across the street to the other building. Mmm… a waste of time for me. Most of the "second wing" is dedicated to the movements of James Earl Ray the day of the assassination as well as the subsequent hunt for him afterwards. The evidence, as presented by the prosecution of this case, is also shown in various cases. The prosecutions methods for tying people in to the involvement as well as divergent conspiracy theories are presented in this newly looking built wing. Of real interest is the view from the rest room Ray allegedly shot across the street using a high-powered rifle. The view is chilling when you think of how easy it must have been to fire off a shot at a man in plain sight across the street.

However, of the 15 minutes spent in this wing, we missed some odd presentation of Civil Rights around the world as well as a chance to stop in the Museum store. I gave the whole experience an A- as it is very informative and educational. I don't feel I should say this, but I would rather have seen the money they used on the assassination information in the "second wing" go towards continued upgrades of the "main wing".

After all this walking around the corner back to the tank, we made our way to the other side of town for some supper. I did some research before heading up and the concensous pointed toward Corky's as having some of the best Q in town. I am not going to start on this subject of whose is better (though one reviewer, Russ from Texas, is about to lose their card for claiming we Texans knew Memphis has the better Q… watch yo back man!!), but I will say Corky's is a great spot to stop in when visiting. I ordered the large slab of ribs and split the kind, half wet and half dry. I'll let them explain that. It came with decent sides of slaw and baked beans. For bread lovers, the rolls served while waiting for the meal are amazing good.. and heavy!! Someone put the heavy dough in these things. Mom had the bbq chicken and was able to sub out a pork dish with grilled on a bed of pasta. The chicken was a hit, not soo sure about those shrimp. Regardless, the service was very friendly and on the spot. Easily our best service the entire weekend. Beware if going to the location on Poplar. The resturant is a bit cozy and if seated in the aisle where the staff walks, watch yourself. The space between tables is a little tight and don't be surprised if brushed by the staff as they walk by. Please don't stretch your arms out. Bad idea. Very bad.

After our dinners, we rolled out of the place trying to figure out how to kill time before looking for a reggae spot downtown I read about. Thus we drove around town taking various streets and putting a ton of trust in our built in compass. Eventually, our meandering led us back downtown and in search of said club. Now I am guilty of doing something here. As we rolled upon the spot, I noticed there were a number of people going in and coming out who appeared to be a younger and more hip hop. Yeah, I stereotyped, I'm sorry. So I pointed the car south in search of Cooper & Young.

I read about this neighborhood online and it seemed like this newly growing neighborhood. It appears to actually be an area where a few independent businesses have setup shop and student housing exists. Not sure what I was truly expecting, but the infamous deli there (Young Deli ) is not exactly a deli. It is truly more of a student hangout and a bar, which happens to have a pretty good kitchen (more on that tomorrow) We drove a lot of the area within I-240 and the Mississippi River including a failed attempt at going to Beale Street.

Our day ended around 1a with our arrival at the hotel. Let me take that back. Someone's mother found CSI: Miami and while I did my best to ignore it, I was drawn into watching that and another episode at of the show before turning in around 3a. I hate A&E!

I wish I had a ghost writer. For times like now when I have nothing really earth shatteringly new to discuss. Yuppers, someone to step in and say a few words about Michael Richards' outbursts this past Friday. Someone to write about it because I don't know what words could explain how I felt when I watched the clip. Truth be told, I really don't care. His ignorance showed it's self out on stage. I am just shocked it was actually recorded. But that Kramer was caught with his pants down in front of everyone? Naw, I didn't loose any sleep over it.

CityGuide Europe - France - Paris Travel Guide with Attractions, Hotels and Tours.

It’s been a minute. Things have happened. Where do I start??

For Or Against

I have a co-worker who spars with me on political issues from time to time. He is of the mindset a country is either For or Against the US. Hmm.. so there is no middle ground? Can’t disagree on a small issue like Iraq or prisoner abuse? Have to see it all the same way as the US dictates? He nodded and I in turn asked him if because of our political differences, I was against him in all aspects of life and should cast him as a non-supporter? He never did answer.

Early Bird My Ass

Where I live, it has warmed up to the point of allowing the windows to be left open at night. It’s a nice time to air out and feel some fresh air at night… if you don’t suffer from allergies. Another issue for another time. This past evening saw my still jet lagged tail fall asleep around 9p. A little traffic flew by on the near by highway. Not enough to explain what happened at 5a. Chirps. A ton of them. Bloody things were right outside my window chirping away like they had no sense. It was still dark! Just as happy as could be and they continued this racket. I thought about closing the window, but I think that wouldn’t do a thing. In my bedroom, I was still bound to hear them. There are fake owls atop the building of my complex. I am considering putting one outside my window with a fake snake or two draped around it. I just like to get my sleep. Some may feel these birds are the welcomed sign of spring. That’s nice. I think I like winter better after all.

At the Texas Relays in Austin 

At the Texas Relays in 2002. I just liked the cap, never attended. 

An interesting 48hrs.



Netflix has provided me with an interesting glimpse into England… Great Britain I should say. I sat in awe as I watched Bloody Sunday. It is the documentary style telling of the events in Derry, Ireland on January 30th, 1972. While the event speaks for it’s self, I can only draw my conclusions from what I have read and watched in the account given by the film. To say it was a shock in an understatement. The great and just British government allowed this incident to happen without at least a reprimand or an apology to the families of the injured and dead. As one who was just there and listening to the various American injustices, this came as a huge surprise. U2’s Sunday, Bloody Sunday had always been a nice peaceful song to me. The true words behind it, behind the phrase never really were clear to me. The reasoning behind what happened, I understand. The infamous IRA (which I do not downplay in the least) had recently been accosting police and the military was sent in to quell this. What I can’t understand is how you can have a hatred for your fellow man to actually shoot them down in cold blood and unarmed. I felt a huge pain as the credits began to roll and the familiar strands of the song came on. Then, the names are read off of the dead and their ages. It really solidified it for me. The British government.



So I took this little gem and threw it into the local post office box and opened another set of offerings. Among the films was a documentary on Sir Winston Churchill. The wartime (World War II) prime minister of Britain is a very interesting and intriguing figure in history. Revered internationally as a strong leader, I never really had a chance to learn about him in school beyond his title. So eagerly opened this one in hopes of enlightening me. The first thing I noticed was this: 180minutes. Ish!! I thought this would be a quick hour-long documentary. I hate long films. So I put it on and started it before I was due at work. Needless to say, I was a little late. I will say this is a favorable documentary of the man, but they did point out his faults, his blunders and his memories attempt at re-writing history to remove any blame on himself… like DubYah. They quote Churchill as haven once stated “history will smile nicely upon him” and this film did exactly that in some cases. His domestic policies during the war were left to his brilliant speeches and his fights with Parliament. Otherwise, we are treated to his war thoughts and fears about Britain’s future in the world after the war. Make no bones about it the man had visions of grandeur and adored the spotlight. The film shows this as a re-occurring characteristic. The other thing the film shows is the humanity of the man who wanted to be great. He made huge mistakes and that prevented his great visions from being taken seriously. He foresaw the rise of the Nazi’s and the later effects of not dealing with the Soviets during and shortly after WWII. It showed me a bit of Britannia and some of the struggles of the war we never dealt with in the States. So my opinion is a little better of these islanders. The British government still sucks.





Who Am I?



I have my friends, but I rarely ask them what they think of me. Honestly, I would like for people to like me as I am. However, if people aren’t impressed or don’t care for my thoughts/feelings, I don’t let it get to me. That I should care what others think about me that I should worry about how others see me. I shall not do. Why? Why bother? If my love of Godzilla movies bothers people, so what? If I talk about sex too much, don’t talk to me. If I cheer for the wrong team, get over it. If you don’t care for me as much as I care for you, why should I let that affect our friendship/relationship? I believe too much is made of worrying about what other shall and will think about your thoughts, your actions, and your feelings. When I sign my name, it says Jamal, not saint J or the perfect one. I am human. As imperfect as they come. I don’t call myself by the titles of Christian, Catholic, best man, perfection or otherwise. When I pass away, I just want to remembered as a good friend. Someone who cared for those around him.



Movie Suggestion: Bloody Sunday



Song Of the moment: Peter Tosh – I Am That I Am

The Lure of TV
I am missing my laptop right now. This one for work should be just that. I have found the convenience of having a computer in front of the TV. Very nice. So I neglect my desktops in favor of my laptops and a weathered metal frame futon.

Dayum, You Want HOW MUCH??
1.89 for unleaded here. 2.49 in California. At least 15,000 civilians have died in an invasion in Iraq and we are going to end up with another four years of this mess. Yes, I said it, another four years. I liken Bush to a bad relationship. It's bad, and you know things are bad, but you stick with it because you are scared of change. Bush has not done anything to really be that "final straw". That one thing that finally makes one say enough is enough, we need a change. Oh, we liberals can scream about alienation from other countries and a huge military exercise which seems to get worse and worse as the days go by, but this may not be enough for the fence sitters. Kerry doesn't really seem to inspire. Maybe he is saving it for the fall. I liked Dean for his fieriness and for being the only to stand up and honestly say we have no business in Iraq and need to pull out. Kerry won't do that. So this bad relationship will continue...


Iragi's Don't Really Matter
Humanity states we can not kill or torture murders, rapists, pedofiles or otherwise within the US. To even suggest such a thing draws the ire of others. So why is it now ok to say abuse of the prisoners in Irag, Afghanistan and even Cuba is ok? Within the past two weeks, I have heard several members of Congress try to condone the actions of soldiers who have abused prisoners. POW's? Uh uh, sorry, this isn't a war. Regardless, there are still international laws to be followed. Human decency. We will never get to the bottom of this. The military is a brotherhood. You have to protect your people. But why did it take some damning photos to get the brought out into the public eye? These allegations have been floating around since the first prisoners were brought to Cuba. Remember those rumors... So why does this all come as a surprise to people? We have men and women in another country who have little to no experience with colonialism. They don't know how to intermingle with the civilians nor do they probably want to. More importantly, I doubt there is training on how to properly maintain a prison unless you are an MP of some sort. If the shit they did ever happened in a US prison, you bet some heads would roll. Instead, Congressmen are openly asking why should we treat these murders as humans. Tell me this Congressman, were any Iraqis in the planes on 9/11/2001??


Movie Suggestion: Run Lola Run
Song of The Day: Peter Tosh - Equal Rights

Am I Metro?

Decleor. No man in his right mind should know anything about this name. Essential oils? Eye contour crème? Special shampoos and conditioners? Real men don’t know of such things. Okie, I mean a man’s man doesn’t do this. Yet there is a category for such a man who walks that fine line between being considered a homosexual (because the stereotype is they take extremely good care of their looks) and a heterosexual (these men feel mirrors are for posing in front of in the morning and brushing their teeth). These men are called metrosexuals. I seem to have been bestowed the title of being one.

Mind you, I am balding and shave my head, but I do spend a little time in front of my reflection. I don’t pour over ever pore on my upper torso. The greys I could take or leave… except in the chest. That ain’t cute. I don’t stare at my shaved head and think about getting a wax or pluck eyebrows. No eyelash curling (this ish is natural… gotta luv me). Nope.

It’s those eye wrinkles, the puffy eyes and oily skin to dry skin thing. That’s what I look at. Now make-up is not an option. I do work at trying to make this things go away or at least lessen until I get to my 40’s or 50’s. It stems from a mild case of acne in my teens in which it was pounded into me I needed to take care of my face. Girls won’t talk to you if you pimples all over your face is what my father used to tell me. He didn’t mention the other little things like being too thin or wearing better clothes, but that’s another issue.

Then, my move to Fort Worth after high school had a subtle, but lasting effect. My grandfather was a sharp dresser in his time. Not pimp sharp, but business sharp. Creases and the whole nine. He tried to instill some of the values of looking decent, but my time in Austin had given me a slacker look with the balding in full effect at the time and wrinkled clothes to match.

One failed relationship a move back to Austin, another failed relationship later, and I began to take notice of things. I worked around people who were twice to more than twice my age. Some of the ones who were less than that (late 30’s) have wrinkles around their eyes. I later learned it was from their smoking, but it helped them look years older than they truly were. I didn’t want that. So how to fix that problem. Don’t smoke of course.

Then came the lines under the eyes of non-smokers. How does that work? I wasn’t about to run out and grab Oil of Olay. That just seemed wrong. In quiet talks with various women, I began learning of products. It’s not vanity, I just don’t like wrinkles on me yet. Grey adds character, I think. I was going to add glasses and re thought that one. I was just dying to get peach when I was a pre-teen. Now I have this coarse assed beard that starts re-growth shortly after a good shave. So the glasses thing… I’ll hold off on that one.

The manicures and pedicures are coming. As soon as my car is paid off, you’d better believe I’ll hit the school once a month. Yeah, the school, they hook it up for much cheaper than a salon. Besides, I don’t need perfection. I just want to wear sandals without being ashamed of my toes. My nails I won’t even discuss. Facials? Never had one. I toss on a few scrubs or make up removing soaps to get rid of the dead skin. Oils to moisturize and help get rid of the ashy look. Trim the goatee, nose hairs and try to get more sleep to get rid of the little bags. That’s it.

Am I really metro?

Obviously, not every mystery is going to be a Hitchcock-ish masterpiece. Along the same lines is it too much to expect a mystery to at least somewhat keep you guessing throughout until the end? Twisted is not that movie. Ashley Judd costars with Samuel L. and Andy Garcia in a police thriller. Someone is killing off men Judd’s character comes into contact with and putting her new job at stake as homicide detective.

The performances were good with Jackson coming off well as a nurturing foster father for Judd’s character as well as Garcia, the mysterious cop who everyone is leery of. The story itself is where the issue lies. I would like for a movie to not expose it’s self within the first 45 mins to an hour of watching it. Keep me guessing. I sat through Gosford Park and was left guessing what really happened up until the ending of that film. Of course, a friend of mine watched and she figured out who did what in the first 10 minutes, but that’s another story. Given a few minutes with this offering and I am sure would become an instant snooze fest.

I liken what this film did to a person who has exposed themselves and then tries to convince those around they didn’t see what they thought did. The rest of the film is spent trying to through you off with a twist here and a turn there. I hope the dvd … I wish the powers that be would stop worrying about “us” (the general public) and how long the movies should/shouldn’t be. I don’t like having to wait for the dvd to come out to see the deleted scenes that may have added more character or better explain the story. Also, if the deleted scenes are included, give me a version in which the deleted scenes are integrated rather than me trying to imagine how part “x” would have fit. Okie, I hope the dvd has added scenes, which make this a tighter movie. The only thing “twisted” about this film was my facial expression when I left the theatre. I give this a matinee rating.


A little while ago, I was turned onto British dramas. I had already been a fan of the comedies, but never really paid much attention to the dramas. They seemed too staunch and tight lipped. All of them seem to look as though they were filmed in the 70-80’s. Thus, when it was suggested I take a look at Suspect, I balked at the idea. Yet another police show. I have to admit, I am a Helen Mirer fan. My Netflix account is full of her work now. I watched the first season in disbelief as it takes you into the inner-workings of a British police station and the chauvenism within a male dominated department. I liked that this show walked you through the case instead of showing you everything up front and allowing you to watch the police fumble their way through until they miraculously pull it together in the end. Not at all. This show only shows you what it wants you to see and allows you to make the discoveries along with the police. Now, you will know who the killer is within the first few moments. It’s not perfect. What you do get/receive is the manner in which the police have to go about putting together the evidence to nail their suspect.

Season One was my introduction to the “ball busting” hard-nosed detective Mirer plays. She’s ice cold outwardly, but quietly caring. She just wants the lads to accept and respect her as a detective, not just a female. She is driven and occasionally steps on some toes to get what she wants. What matters is she gets results. This first is the introduction. It was pretty darn good. A serial killer loose in Britain. However, it is the second season, which struck me. Colin Salmon co-stars in the installment as a Black Sergeant Detective who is assigned to work with Mirer’s troupe on a racially sensitive case. Racism plays a major role along with the normal sexism associated with this show. This time.. ahh.. this time, we may NOT know exactly who the suspect is. This time, we do follow around Mirer on her investigation and the various discoveries. The question in this installment is less of a who done-it, but what do they know?

I had a dream last night. I was at a theatre and there was time between shows. I decided to pop out into the deserted mall to find a place to get a bite to eat. There was a hamburger stand open. A flame-broiled piece of meat was about to be served to me lathered with mayo and cheese, with a side of fries and a shake?? I was set. All I needed to do was sign the credit card slip and it was on. Declined. That was the response from their little machine. I was declined. My burger was taken away and the person behind the counter gave me an apologetic look since I didn’t have any cash on me.

It will be a cold day in hell before I lift an eyebrow to JT. I am not sure what the details are behind the stunt he and Janet had for the Super Bowl halftime, (see, who’s still talking about this dead horse anyway??) but I have to say I am unimpressed with his actions in the following days. He first reportedly laughed it off, yet turned around and sincerely apologized under mounting pressure. Fine. Why turn around on the Grammy Awards and apologize again? At some point a person needs to make a stand. To apologize again just to be able to perform at this year’s Grammy’s is weak. What one is saying is to me is it is not worth sticking to your principles. Janet didn’t bow to the arrogance of CBS and issue another apology. That it has cost her at least one movie opportunity (Lena Horne.. please…) and a television appearance is unfortunate. One should not have to sell their soul to recover from a mistake.



Where is Osma Bin Hiding? There are no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. Hussein is gone. The Iraqi’s should be able to elect the govt they want.. without the assistance of American tax dollars nor military. Are we still threatened by terrorists from Iraq? Wait.. the Sept 11th terrorists were primarily Saudi. Mmm.. our ally. Gas prices are high. Are the oilfields we’re protecting still in trouble? Why am I not paying less now? Why do I feel less secure since our militia built up and deployed overseas? Why are they still there? Is the Iraqi army just waiting in the sand for them to leave so they may re-take the throne for.. Saddam?? Do we really have him? If so, why are we still there? We? Sorry, our soldiers. Janet’s breast is really an outrage compared to the money Iraq is draining from this country. Education president? Where is he?

Song Of The Day: I Ain’t No Joke – Eric B. & Rakim
Netflix Suggestion: Cracker (series I & II)

I have been away, but I wanted to start coming back to this little spot. I'll restart this by posting a little something I was asked about one day, a soundtrack of my life. Just a top 5 songs that are of importance to your life and how. Well, 5 was impossible and 10 wasn't exactly cutting it so I upped it to 20. There sooo many more songs I could have used, but these 20 reflect my feelings pretty well, for now. The soundtrack always changes, ya know.

Soundtrack Of My Life

1) Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd
I think this is pretty self explanatory. It relates alot to my
brother and father whom I truly wish were here in the flesh and
not just in spirit or mind.

2) Optimistic - Sounds Of Blackness
I have a never say die attitude. There is always a silver lining
in things to me. It may be dark, but ultimitly I know I can
Make it work out. Just have to stay positive.


3) I Am That I Am - Peter Tosh
Maybe I am getting older, but this song appeals to me more and more
as time goes by. It has to do with people trying to get me to fit
their image of what they feel I should be. I am that I am as Mr Tosh
says.

4) Redemption Song - Bob
Again, my brother and father. There not words to express how invaluable they
in my growing up into.. umm... me.

5) Ride On - AC/DC
It's a slow song. To me it's a person who is drifting through life.
The recounting of the lower points, the state of being alone, yet
still keeping their chin up.. looking to improve things for themselves.

6) Home - The Wiz (soundtrack)
This is the humbler. It reminds me of family. With all my travels, this
always helps put me back in Austin.

7) Time - Pink Floyd
I have an issue with Time. Never seem to be early. I am always
battling time. Either to be on time or not too late. More time
would be great, but I look back and see the time I have wasted.
Depressing song when reflecting.

8) Man In The Mirror - MJ
MJ in the last of his great days. I look at myself in the mirror
on a daily basis and I still see the 6 year old, the 13 year old,
the 24 year old with his dreams and thoughts, but no actions.
Everyday, I say I am going to make that change and set the world
on fire... sigh.. sometimes I do. But each day, I look in the mirror.

9) On The Road Again - Willie Nelson
My theme song!! I love to travel. There is something about seeing
places away from where I am and learning new things which grabs me.
I love Texas, but I hate the thought of not getting out of state
and taking in new things. Within state as well I should add.

10) Strange Relationship - Prince
My birthday mate wrote a song that seems to fit a number of my
relationships to a "T". I have some odd moments which I could
never truly explain. This song does it for me.

11) Spain (I Recall)/This Time - Al Jarraeu
A number of my earlier memories are based upon hearing music.
Al Jarreau was what my father played when driving my brother
and I to Austin in the old Datsun 710 (?) station wagon. We
loved to hear George Benson, but he normally would play Al and
these two songs just sounded cool and were always my favorites.

12) Tommorrow - Annie (soundtrack)
It *IS* a kiddy song. I was in the school play in 5th grade and
missed out because of the freakin chicken pox. As depressed as I was
I knew I would get past the stupid condition and be able to play during the
summer if I kept looking ahead and not get stuck on what was on me.

13) Oppurtunities- Pet Shop Boys
Hmmm... now this is a strange inclusion. To the point, it's me. The song
is about team work. Partners. I do my best work when I have that partner.
I get things done. Not another mother, but someone who wants to work towards
a common goal or goals together. Normally, I like to think of myself as the
brains and the looks.

14) I Ain't No Joke - Eric B & Rahkim
My "Monday" song. It gives me that take no prisoners attitude I need to get
through the day. Talk about walking in with a chip on your shoulder. I try
to play it on those "special" Mondays and Wednesdays.

15) Blues Medley - Little Milton
This is a 16 minute song which combines the soulful playing of a guitar
and the pitty filled voice of a bluesman telling about his lady leaving him
and his struggles (actually three songs meshed nicely into one). It just strikes
a chord with me.

16) Voyage To India/ Secret Life Of Plants - Stevie Wonder
Picture a spring morning in the late 70's. A father and his two young sons are
walking around a store trying to find a perfect Mother's Day gift. The boys
continually pick out toys they know their mother would love to have (as well
as ones she would let them play with as well). The father picks this new record
with a faded green front and green writing. The boys make fun of it but the father
says mnother will love it. The weird sounds from this record plays through the house
for the next few years and it becomes "THE" Stevie Wonder album to you. Years later
You present this cd to your mother on Mother's Day (LP's having become a thing of the past)
and all those memories from the day you shopped for this as a kid comes back.
This is just that cd that makes me think of my family when I hear it.
Voyage To India I chose because it is like taking a journey... A journey somewhere
exotic. Great answer...

17) Soon Forward - Gregory Issacs/ If I Didn't Love You - Dennis Brown (Reggae Sunsplash '81)
These two songs are the ones which take me back to landing in Montego bay and to laying out
by the pool or the sea drinking rum punch. They are Jamaica to me.. just relaxed, perspiring
under the occassional sea breeze. No worries mon, no worries.

18) Silent Night - The Temptations
Christmas can not happen w/o egg nog and the Temps version of this classic. I do not make it a
season without it. Again, the memories from it. Looking at Christmas lights in the
back of a cold car wishing never to have to go back to Timberline Drive. The
worst part of growing up was listening to it in the car alone and thinking about
how it once was. How Christmas was once a wonderful time for four people and a dog.

19) My Love, Sweet Love - Pattie LaBelle
This song was played at my wedding. This was my favorite song on the Waiting To Exhale
soundtrack. When it is played, memories of the wedding preperation and short
lived union fly through my head. Just that one song makes me think of that time.
Oh well..

20) Could You Believe - Al Jarreau
This song stirs sadness for me. It's a beautiful song, especially the live version. The lyrics
"could you believe in a dream if I tell you that it's true" hits home with as I think
back to that Datsun and my child dreams of one day becoming an adult who could drive
with his brother and dad in the car to someplace. Just the men going someplace. Now,
it happens but only in spirit. It's just very haunting for me... I miss the guys.

They play Sportscenter in da club. Da Club being the gentleman’s club. Where the name is derived from I am not sure and truly have not taken the time to figure out. I just know amidst the various types of topless thong clad (or sometimes nude) women is the face of Kenny Mayne. Stuart Scott. Whoever the personality may be. Why is this? Why are sports playing? Why are sports playing? I could understand if some stripper contests played. Something that showed us what we should be seeing in entertainment. Rather, the “strip tease” part of the show has been taken away. In its place is the strip and now tease. Tease many a man with what you think you could buy with a $20 lap dance. Some with disinterested looks, attitudes or just no true skill. So why come? The best explanation I have come up with is this. For a $10 cover, a drink or two, and a couple of dollars tips, a person can look at live nekkid women. They can touch without being told not tonight. They can look at a variety of skin types and compare bodies. Their favorite body parts on display in a variety of flavors ala Baskin Robbins. A wink. A smile. A little flirting. For 10 dollars?

I went through a few years of not clubbing. I wouldn’t step foot into one, much less throw a hint of being interested in going to one. A trip to see my friend Allie took care of that. It was her birthday and though being a hetro woman, she did like to indulge with friends and go to da club every now and then. So I flew to see her and her new beau as well as hang out with her birthday gang. The name of the club escapes me now and it did not immediately impress me. Yet, after I left, I had hope. Hope that going to the club just every once in a while would provide the right amount of tease and fun.

So I am off the stripper thing. It’s the first day of my month. June. For those with cold ass January & December birthdays, eat your hearts out. Please take note of the greenery, shorts, and sunshine. Christmas should be moved to a warmer month. I don’t know? I think there is room in June for it. So I am looking at heading back home to Austin in 24hrs. I love that place. Familiarity I think has a lot to do with it. Or maybe those parts of it are still cozy and folksy. I swear I am not country. I love the Plex… errr… I love what the Plex has to offer… damn. Okie, okie, I just live here cause DFW cuts down on the amount of connections I have to make when I travel. There, I said it. That and real estate is cheap. Anyway… I like large cities and what choices they have to offer. However, my “little city” (as Pickle calls it) has just the right choices for me. So there is not a good Caribbean spot or radio station (Sister Irie does spin some vinyl on KAZI on Sundays.. Much respect!). Houston is a little jaunt and Miami… oo.. that’s another discussion. Rambling. Shady Grove, Artz, Matt’s, I Luv Video, Dreamers, driving on Enfield, West 6th street, MoPac in the wee hours… I do miss home now and then.

Song of the day: Dennis Brown – Sitting & Watching
Latest Movies Watched: Cinema Paradiso (directors cut) & The Law – review coming later

The Mavs have just lost!! Come fishing with my Lakers. Thank you, thank you. I do love it. I am currently on the phone with Pickle talking about the Amazing Adventure. I love being on CDT and talking to her about things I missed on prime time. She suggested I write this blog thingy, so here it is. Ja in 7 days. Ocho Rios. The sand. The sun. Mmm... My birthday. Right now I am pissed at the company I went through for the reservations. It seems transfers are not included in the price I received. So I am shopping for that little bit and looking for a way to seat this processor. I am building a computer and it's turning into a mightmare for me. why couldn't all computers be Mac? I wish I could write better. I wish I had a recorder for Pickle's questions. "You know what, I can't wait until i get a yeast infection so I can try out this new medicine." She is taling about why there are commercials for yeast infection meds on tv. Sigh.. I just know it is not the most appetizing thought when digging into some steak and mashed potatoes. Maxwell is playing now.. not what you need when you're alone on a Sunday night before work.. okie, Wed is normally my Sunday. Rum punch.. can't wait... Headed to bed. Enough rambling for one night

Song of the day: Shine On You Crazy Diamond - Pink Floyd
Next movie to watch: Nemo and The Italian Job