G. Eric Francis's Blog
July 16, 2019
The Privilege
When I am at lunch, I watch them come and go.
They sit at a table together, laughing like they don't have a care in the world.
If they want to, they can blast their music loud as hell.
Or if they care to debate politics, they don't worry about if things get heated...or even better, if someone overhears them.
They have their vision of America....beautiful, the flag, respecting those who serve, a cold beer and football.
Statistically the majority of them get to live to be old, retire, die in peace.
Oh, and the American dream is still alive and well.
I watch them as I eat, taking a sip out of my glass, wondering what the fuck that is like.
The other day I was going on break and an older woman saw me in my middle-aged dad shirt, dad shorts, looking about as threatening as a rose petal. She sped up her pace, grasped her purse tighter and got to her car as soon as she can, looking back at me several times as she walked away.
I laughed.
I know people will say I was imagining things.
But then again, this is the portrait that is the country I live in.
I saw the president said folks who were legally elected to, because their skin was brown, to go back to their country...even though these people were either naturalized citizens or BORN here.
I watch them eat, and damn they are comfortable.
I wonder what the fuck that is like.
I look behind me, and finish my last French fry, pay my bill and begin to walk out of the door.
Someone is coming in with their friends, laughing. One of them hold the door for me, and I smile, just as my mother taught me, thanking them for the gesture.
They are all comfortable.
Damn, I wonder....what the fuck.
They sit at a table together, laughing like they don't have a care in the world.
If they want to, they can blast their music loud as hell.
Or if they care to debate politics, they don't worry about if things get heated...or even better, if someone overhears them.
They have their vision of America....beautiful, the flag, respecting those who serve, a cold beer and football.
Statistically the majority of them get to live to be old, retire, die in peace.
Oh, and the American dream is still alive and well.
I watch them as I eat, taking a sip out of my glass, wondering what the fuck that is like.
The other day I was going on break and an older woman saw me in my middle-aged dad shirt, dad shorts, looking about as threatening as a rose petal. She sped up her pace, grasped her purse tighter and got to her car as soon as she can, looking back at me several times as she walked away.
I laughed.
I know people will say I was imagining things.
But then again, this is the portrait that is the country I live in.
I saw the president said folks who were legally elected to, because their skin was brown, to go back to their country...even though these people were either naturalized citizens or BORN here.
I watch them eat, and damn they are comfortable.
I wonder what the fuck that is like.
I look behind me, and finish my last French fry, pay my bill and begin to walk out of the door.
Someone is coming in with their friends, laughing. One of them hold the door for me, and I smile, just as my mother taught me, thanking them for the gesture.
They are all comfortable.
Damn, I wonder....what the fuck.
February 9, 2019
Silence Is A Copper Penny
I have been mostly quiet for the past 2 weeks or so, an occasional hit and run post when it was too much to resist. While doing so it has driven me crazy, it is the wise thing to do at this point; the seeming fruitlessness of it all kept me up at night.
My wife says my heart is too damned big sometimes.
However, there is a simply matter of right and wrong, despite whatever political, religious, philosophical or whatever views you possess, and this fact...not fake news, not motivated by anything but love for all humankind, has caused me to use my fingers, even for a brief moment in time.
I read comments from folks based on what is going on in the world, and to be my normal "forward" self, it is just fucking nasty. Evil, mean spirited, unformed, bigoted.
The ol' "My way or the highway" method, no matter who else it hurts, is the rule of the day.
My wife uses the same technique when it comes to me doing the laundry.
Shrink a couple of bras and shirts, and a guy can't touch the ERA...sigh.
The biggest thing though I've noticed is how quick folks jump on someone when they have no idea what is is like to walk in that person's shoes. To be able to experience what someone that isn't you goes through every day; .to NOT have the advantage you may have that allows you to avoid it.
I don't know what it is like to be a gay man. No clue on because you have a particularly religious belief you must be a terrorist. Because you have a p***y you are only to be conquered, are stupid or (supposedly) the weaker sex (despite the fact that most women outlive men by about 10 years on average), so you should be listened to (and paid) less. Because of the color of your skin you are a rapist, absentee father, guilty, and bad the day you were born...
....despite the fact that most of the crimes these folks are accused of are committed by the accusers.
Right and wrong are easily twisted to fit the shoes that folks refuse to wear instead of the facts and evidence laid bear for them to see.
I have a dear, dear, dear friend who I am happy to have in my life. While we disagree on our worldview, her view of the world is something I wish were true. As far as she is concerned, I am just Greg, my son with Autism deserves help that isn't cost prohibitive, this is still the land of the free....of opportunity, where an ideal of being judged on your character is more important than what each lie every generation is taught over and over again takes precedence.
Where being kind to each other and taking care of those who are not blessed enough isn't perceived as weakness or laziness on those folk's part.
My friend's heart is SO big. It is almost a marvel to experience, because I wish that all of us (or at least the majority of us) could match its size. Oh Lord, what a wonderful country and world it would be.
A long time friend of mine sent a response to a discussion I started that so disheartened me, so cut me to the soul, it caused me to back away from trying to get folks to see that we are letting a small minority destroy ourselves, as well as continue to hate and distrust one another.
I know my words will continue to fall on deaf ears.
That is a pity.
My silence will probably continue (well, mostly silent). I know I can't change the world (or the 120+ folks who see these ramblings on facebook).
But I won't give up.
I am a parent of a child that, as I write this, broke the 67th set of headphones in the last 3 years, gouged his brother so badly that his finger bled, and who is now hitting his wall uncontrollably and refusing to go to sleep.
All the while as his mother, who just pulled in from work, simply wants to eat and go to sleep.
These are my shoes.
I am confident that most are afraid to find out what is like to slip them on.
My wife says my heart is too damned big sometimes.
However, there is a simply matter of right and wrong, despite whatever political, religious, philosophical or whatever views you possess, and this fact...not fake news, not motivated by anything but love for all humankind, has caused me to use my fingers, even for a brief moment in time.
I read comments from folks based on what is going on in the world, and to be my normal "forward" self, it is just fucking nasty. Evil, mean spirited, unformed, bigoted.
The ol' "My way or the highway" method, no matter who else it hurts, is the rule of the day.
My wife uses the same technique when it comes to me doing the laundry.
Shrink a couple of bras and shirts, and a guy can't touch the ERA...sigh.
The biggest thing though I've noticed is how quick folks jump on someone when they have no idea what is is like to walk in that person's shoes. To be able to experience what someone that isn't you goes through every day; .to NOT have the advantage you may have that allows you to avoid it.
I don't know what it is like to be a gay man. No clue on because you have a particularly religious belief you must be a terrorist. Because you have a p***y you are only to be conquered, are stupid or (supposedly) the weaker sex (despite the fact that most women outlive men by about 10 years on average), so you should be listened to (and paid) less. Because of the color of your skin you are a rapist, absentee father, guilty, and bad the day you were born...
....despite the fact that most of the crimes these folks are accused of are committed by the accusers.
Right and wrong are easily twisted to fit the shoes that folks refuse to wear instead of the facts and evidence laid bear for them to see.
I have a dear, dear, dear friend who I am happy to have in my life. While we disagree on our worldview, her view of the world is something I wish were true. As far as she is concerned, I am just Greg, my son with Autism deserves help that isn't cost prohibitive, this is still the land of the free....of opportunity, where an ideal of being judged on your character is more important than what each lie every generation is taught over and over again takes precedence.
Where being kind to each other and taking care of those who are not blessed enough isn't perceived as weakness or laziness on those folk's part.
My friend's heart is SO big. It is almost a marvel to experience, because I wish that all of us (or at least the majority of us) could match its size. Oh Lord, what a wonderful country and world it would be.
A long time friend of mine sent a response to a discussion I started that so disheartened me, so cut me to the soul, it caused me to back away from trying to get folks to see that we are letting a small minority destroy ourselves, as well as continue to hate and distrust one another.
I know my words will continue to fall on deaf ears.
That is a pity.
My silence will probably continue (well, mostly silent). I know I can't change the world (or the 120+ folks who see these ramblings on facebook).
But I won't give up.
I am a parent of a child that, as I write this, broke the 67th set of headphones in the last 3 years, gouged his brother so badly that his finger bled, and who is now hitting his wall uncontrollably and refusing to go to sleep.
All the while as his mother, who just pulled in from work, simply wants to eat and go to sleep.
These are my shoes.
I am confident that most are afraid to find out what is like to slip them on.
December 16, 2018
Rudolph Tried to Represent
Good morning everyone.
Last night I put up a picture of my youngest son with Santa Claus, which we have taken every year, on a popular social media site. I got a lot of “likes” and a few “loves”. Not surprising; not to brag, but he is a cute kid.
It is always easier to smile or approve of the good things in life.
The thing I have noticed about social media in the 10 years I have used it is that when you put happy things on it (birth of of a child, cute pic of the kids, awesome vacation pics) people are quick to “like” or “love” it (depending on what platform you are on; it seems that Facebook has become the place for middle-age and older folks to hang out, so I can’t speak for the more “hipper” places to hang).
After getting little sleep (and dropping the husband ball; see my earlier post) my mind wandered (as it is wont to do) about this little factoid that entered my consciousness.
As a person that has seemingly burned a lot of bridges for pointing out all the ugly of the world, I know that people can’t face that things are not well for a lot of people in America (never mind the rest of the world), but whenever I put up something to soothe that ugly, man, the likes are coming in abundance.
At least when it comes to Noah, anyway (which I can’t hate on; he is a pretty special kid, despite his sometimes difficult moments).
But I write to those who bother to read what I have to say to wonder out loud why we can’t, as human beings (hell, I am just as guilty; I need to go to the dentist for periodontal cleaning that I have semi-blow off for 9 months...that after not going to see a dentist due to fear for 20 years)deal with the ugliness in life...or worse, trying to fix it.
I have had a few people tell me that they appreciate me speaking out, despite the obvious damage that it has done to my standing amongst those who know me. I believe it is the only reason I haven’t gone silent. I wanted to reference the recent “controversy” about “Rudolph” real quick. A lot of people have blown it off because it is a kid’s show and should remain that way.
I dig that.
However the fact remains that the show was made in the 60’s, and it is rife with bigotry and sexism. However, since it is a “kid’s show” (hey, I watch it every year and I am 49 years old) and it was so long ago, I’ve seen plenty of people say that people are “oversensitive”, etc etc. And yeah, I know the characters realized their mistake and changed, blah blah blah.
Of course this is coming from folks who think (or believe) they are not affected by the same things today that took place 54 years ago.
Once again, covering up that damn ugly.
Sort of like makeup...but like an old joke I heard once, “I may be fat, but you’re ugly....and you can’t run that off.”
Or run away from.
It’s too bad that the real world couldn’t be like “Rudolph”...you know, when folks wake up and realize the ugliness we are all guilty off and recant, improve and learn from.
But those kid pictures are still cute.
Last night I put up a picture of my youngest son with Santa Claus, which we have taken every year, on a popular social media site. I got a lot of “likes” and a few “loves”. Not surprising; not to brag, but he is a cute kid.
It is always easier to smile or approve of the good things in life.
The thing I have noticed about social media in the 10 years I have used it is that when you put happy things on it (birth of of a child, cute pic of the kids, awesome vacation pics) people are quick to “like” or “love” it (depending on what platform you are on; it seems that Facebook has become the place for middle-age and older folks to hang out, so I can’t speak for the more “hipper” places to hang).
After getting little sleep (and dropping the husband ball; see my earlier post) my mind wandered (as it is wont to do) about this little factoid that entered my consciousness.
As a person that has seemingly burned a lot of bridges for pointing out all the ugly of the world, I know that people can’t face that things are not well for a lot of people in America (never mind the rest of the world), but whenever I put up something to soothe that ugly, man, the likes are coming in abundance.
At least when it comes to Noah, anyway (which I can’t hate on; he is a pretty special kid, despite his sometimes difficult moments).
But I write to those who bother to read what I have to say to wonder out loud why we can’t, as human beings (hell, I am just as guilty; I need to go to the dentist for periodontal cleaning that I have semi-blow off for 9 months...that after not going to see a dentist due to fear for 20 years)deal with the ugliness in life...or worse, trying to fix it.
I have had a few people tell me that they appreciate me speaking out, despite the obvious damage that it has done to my standing amongst those who know me. I believe it is the only reason I haven’t gone silent. I wanted to reference the recent “controversy” about “Rudolph” real quick. A lot of people have blown it off because it is a kid’s show and should remain that way.
I dig that.
However the fact remains that the show was made in the 60’s, and it is rife with bigotry and sexism. However, since it is a “kid’s show” (hey, I watch it every year and I am 49 years old) and it was so long ago, I’ve seen plenty of people say that people are “oversensitive”, etc etc. And yeah, I know the characters realized their mistake and changed, blah blah blah.
Of course this is coming from folks who think (or believe) they are not affected by the same things today that took place 54 years ago.
Once again, covering up that damn ugly.
Sort of like makeup...but like an old joke I heard once, “I may be fat, but you’re ugly....and you can’t run that off.”
Or run away from.
It’s too bad that the real world couldn’t be like “Rudolph”...you know, when folks wake up and realize the ugliness we are all guilty off and recant, improve and learn from.
But those kid pictures are still cute.
October 14, 2018
The Fairy Tell of the Biggest Dick (ergo Manhood)
Beyond the Noah drama I just posted about, I woke up with a thought that I wanted to expand on.
What, exactly, makes up a Man?
Now as a 49-year-old adult male (at least in the eyes of the law...wait, the law is different for folks like me...we will just go with “in general” and call it even) you would think I would qualify as a “man.” I have facial hair, deep voice, testicles (well, depending on how cold it is) and will probably die at least 5 years before my wife (probably more like 25, since my wife is not only Caucasian, women in her family seemingly live forever).
So physically, I am a man.
However, we all know that isn’t the entire story.
Every society has its own definition of “manhood.”
Men are supposed to be strong, not letting their emotions get the best of them.
We are supposedly (even tho in this world, this antiquated idea needs to die) to be the head of the household, the bad guys who do the disciplining, the “rock.”
We can’t be punks, ready to beat the shit out of each other to prove how much of a “man” we are in society’s (and our loved ones) eyes.
My father always gave me crap because I was (OK, at times still am...hey, I’ve gotten better, damn it) sensitive and would cry when my feelings were hurt.
Described me in not so pleasant terms too.
When I got out of 8th grade, I got a watch for a gift (I was obsessed with watches). About 2 weeks after I got it, I was mugged at knifepoint. The local kids told my pop...and he promptly humiliated me for not fighting back. Didn’t wear a watch again (including the fact that I am allergic to the nickel in cheaper watches) until I got an Apple Watch (aluminum).
The biggest thing that occurred to me in the manhood mythos is the attitude towards sex.
Gotta have as many notches as possible on the belt, right?
The penis has caused more wars, deaths, dramas, and shitty attitudes (right, POTUS, SCOTUS, and Congress?) than anything else in the world’s history. A lot of guys think that because of that thing dangling from their crotches that they run shit, forgetting (and more importantly, WE forgetting) that they got their though the ignorance of others, much less while stepping on them to get where they are.
Now if a man don’t have a “Mighty Sword of Bone-age” (or your shit is more flaccid than an orange man in power) they try to prove their “manhood” in other ways (mostly in the lusty chase of power).
Stupid, but dangerous.
The “manhood” thing tho, mostly hits women....hard. We have seen it recently....we have seen in for millennia. It’s why women are running for office, trying to cut that “manhood” down to the stump it should have been long time ago (just leave mine alone, ladies....I am with ya 100%).
Now I believe that as an adult (male or female) you should stand up for yourself (something that it took me a long time to do, and even now I choose my battles carefully). I honestly wish that men realize that hey, we are gonna one day rot in the ground (or scattered from a mountaintop) just like our female counterparts.
Look, I dig money, am semi-fond of vagina, and sorta like the strength advantage I have (well, use to have; women 10 years + older than me hit the steps at work while my fat ass is all about “Elevator or bust”). But I know (well, now almost “knew”) a strong woman who, despite her own victimization of the “manhood mystique” who taught me that no matter what, respect females and their power. I have been subject to the good and the bad of that statement more times that I can count (ergo 1990-1991, for example), so I know females are da shit.
I guess my prevailing thought on manhood, both in my personal experiences and what I’ve seen, is that I wish that instead of “manhood” we can just be, well, people. Respect for what we can do, support for what we can’t.
And fellas, if you wanna cry, cry.
I saw Simon Cowell do it once.
It is possible.
What, exactly, makes up a Man?
Now as a 49-year-old adult male (at least in the eyes of the law...wait, the law is different for folks like me...we will just go with “in general” and call it even) you would think I would qualify as a “man.” I have facial hair, deep voice, testicles (well, depending on how cold it is) and will probably die at least 5 years before my wife (probably more like 25, since my wife is not only Caucasian, women in her family seemingly live forever).
So physically, I am a man.
However, we all know that isn’t the entire story.
Every society has its own definition of “manhood.”
Men are supposed to be strong, not letting their emotions get the best of them.
We are supposedly (even tho in this world, this antiquated idea needs to die) to be the head of the household, the bad guys who do the disciplining, the “rock.”
We can’t be punks, ready to beat the shit out of each other to prove how much of a “man” we are in society’s (and our loved ones) eyes.
My father always gave me crap because I was (OK, at times still am...hey, I’ve gotten better, damn it) sensitive and would cry when my feelings were hurt.
Described me in not so pleasant terms too.
When I got out of 8th grade, I got a watch for a gift (I was obsessed with watches). About 2 weeks after I got it, I was mugged at knifepoint. The local kids told my pop...and he promptly humiliated me for not fighting back. Didn’t wear a watch again (including the fact that I am allergic to the nickel in cheaper watches) until I got an Apple Watch (aluminum).
The biggest thing that occurred to me in the manhood mythos is the attitude towards sex.
Gotta have as many notches as possible on the belt, right?
The penis has caused more wars, deaths, dramas, and shitty attitudes (right, POTUS, SCOTUS, and Congress?) than anything else in the world’s history. A lot of guys think that because of that thing dangling from their crotches that they run shit, forgetting (and more importantly, WE forgetting) that they got their though the ignorance of others, much less while stepping on them to get where they are.
Now if a man don’t have a “Mighty Sword of Bone-age” (or your shit is more flaccid than an orange man in power) they try to prove their “manhood” in other ways (mostly in the lusty chase of power).
Stupid, but dangerous.
The “manhood” thing tho, mostly hits women....hard. We have seen it recently....we have seen in for millennia. It’s why women are running for office, trying to cut that “manhood” down to the stump it should have been long time ago (just leave mine alone, ladies....I am with ya 100%).
Now I believe that as an adult (male or female) you should stand up for yourself (something that it took me a long time to do, and even now I choose my battles carefully). I honestly wish that men realize that hey, we are gonna one day rot in the ground (or scattered from a mountaintop) just like our female counterparts.
Look, I dig money, am semi-fond of vagina, and sorta like the strength advantage I have (well, use to have; women 10 years + older than me hit the steps at work while my fat ass is all about “Elevator or bust”). But I know (well, now almost “knew”) a strong woman who, despite her own victimization of the “manhood mystique” who taught me that no matter what, respect females and their power. I have been subject to the good and the bad of that statement more times that I can count (ergo 1990-1991, for example), so I know females are da shit.
I guess my prevailing thought on manhood, both in my personal experiences and what I’ve seen, is that I wish that instead of “manhood” we can just be, well, people. Respect for what we can do, support for what we can’t.
And fellas, if you wanna cry, cry.
I saw Simon Cowell do it once.
It is possible.
September 30, 2018
Entertainers who are people of color usually, intentional...
Entertainers who are people of color usually, intentionally or not, subconsciously or whatever, are usually judged more harshly than their caucasian counterparts, especially if by their behavior they are considered the proverbial "asshole" or "bitch.". For example I hear that Kanye West changed his name to "Ye." Now don't get me wrong, I am a fan of Kanye's music, and he is immensely talented, despite his mind-numbing arrogance. However, don't think homeboy has quite been right since his mom died. Also, well, he does tend to put his foot in his mouth.But the worse thing he has done, truly, has been putting his foot into his mouth.Self inflicted, but harmless to anyone else.Yet he his despised (and aligning himself w/Trump isn't exactly a great career move) by folks on both sides of the aisle (by the way "Ye", when you piss off your people after most Caucasians think you are an asshat, you end up on "Celebrity Fit Club" or "Dancing with the Stars." Not good for a guy who has won a shitload of Grammys).Beyonce and Jay-Z...immensely successful folks of color, has done numerous charitable things, especially for folks of color that generally they don't advertise. Beyond Jay's drug dealer past, they have never been in trouble with the law and generally keep their noses clean.Yet a lot of my caucasian associates can't stand them.Of course, methinks part of it is a lot of white folks can't deal with when black folks do well....especially when they do MUCH better than the folks that are hating on them.Jealousy crosses all barriers, but folks of color who are successful gotta watch what they say or what they do, or they get convicted...even when no true "crime" was committed.William H. Cosby is a convicted sexual offender. He got his just desserts, and will probably die in prison.Yet a man who, let's face it, lied his ass off under oath on Thursday is probably gonna get, IMHO, the most powerful job in our country. Ted Kennedy got a female killed in a car accident. Served in congress till the day he died.Now Clarence Thomas (who I personally think is a scumbag, race be damned) did get away with shit. So did OJ (even tho the dumb as, after getting away with murder, robs somebody and goes to jail anyway).So ever so often famous folks of color get a pass.But no matter what argument presents itself to me, you will never convince me that assholes are judged more harshly when the tan doesn't fade away over time.Personally if you are a bitch or a dick, I could care less if you use aqua net or cocoa butter.But as I said before, when you are guilty the day you slip out of the vagina or the c-section, it isn't good to add asshole to the mix.It rarely turns out well for us, no matter how many zeroes you have following a number in your bank account.
August 5, 2018
Dying to tell ya
And now, something morbid from G. Eric Francis...
I haven't worked on the book in more than 3 months. I recently swapped out my iPad Pro (mostly to pay for my trip to MI a couple of weeks ago) and decided to pick up the new MIcrosoft Surface Go. It is a quaint little thing, relatively easy to type on (once I got used to it; having big hands sometimes can be a biznatch) and while I will be a Mac guy 4ever, I have also swapped out most of my apple products besides my main computer (to once again help cover my trip).
Anyway, I am getting off subject here...onto the morbid part.
I have always thought about my own demise, since I was a teen. I know that isn't something one should dwell on, but the fact that one of these days I will no longer exist (now that I am less than a year from 50 getting closer every day) sort of bugs me....as well as fascinates me.
Let me get you to the bug me part.
After watching an episode of "CSI" several years back where a body had decomposed to the point that it was simply black muck sort of gave me the creeps. It is hard enough to be black in America, but then to become black muck really sucks.
The one advantage of that is at least the police can try to beat me my muck, and I can have revenge by splattering into their orifices.
Gag on that, a-holes.
Another thing is having my body on display, more bloated than I was in life, for folks to say "goodbye" to.
Wait, that is going with the expectation that anyone would come to my funeral; my oldest has told me more than once that he hopes I go first.
Well loved, I am.
Then there is the other alternative of my body's disposal...cremation. I know, I know...why should I care what happens to my remains....I WOULD BE DEAD, right? I guess that since I have cooked enough dead flesh on a grill, the idea of being tossed in a cardboard box (mingling with paper is the ultimate paper cut) and tossed into an over w/o at least seasoning (I am a black man....we gotta have our seasoning, damn it) is not appealing.
Then again, neither is being slowly eaten by bugs while I become a burnt milkshake.
Ok, creepy part over. Here is the fascinating part (and the inspiration of my current project, providing I ever finish the mofo).
My mother told me when her brother died that right before she got the call the iron that she was using "moved." Now this tale has changed into more supernatural stuff as I got older, but she stuck by her story.
In my nearly 1/2 century on Earth, I have seen some inexplicable shit that science cannot explain away. I know a few of my associates are agnostic or atheist, but the fact that I have 2 sons (where medical science said one should have died because his umbilical cord ruptured) tells me something is more powerful than us out there running shit.
With that being said, it has made me questioned my life's decisions.
I have broken a few commandments.....more than once. With that being said, and assuming Christianity is the truth (something else driven into me by my mom) I am screwed.
This makes me go back to the whole roasting my body like I was a dead pig in a smoker.
If there is a soul, well, damnation awaits if I croak before I figure things out and I change.
Then you gotta look at the other argument.
Supposed the agnostics and atheists are right, that we are basically no more than organisms that expire....AND THAT IS IT.
It is humbling to know that the ants that I killed this morning and I are equally irrelevant.
It's a bummer, cuz it makes me regret not being a bigger male slut, or a massive asshole (even tho I have been a mid-sized asshole once or twice...Mrs. Flagler would confirm this).
I mean, what is the point of accepting a savior and being a good person when I missed out on a lot more fun?
This is my daily internal struggle, to be honest. My teen is on the atheist side, since his Aspergers riddled mind cannot accept something he cannot see, hear or touch.
Is he right?
I guess that is where I am in the middle. If he is right, well the worst that awaits me when my time is up is muckville.
If he is wrong, well he won't be attending the family heaven reunion....and I might be right there next to him doing the whole biblical "gnashing of teeth."
Yeah, I paid a little attention in Sunday School.
The biggest thing tho, as I end this so I don't burn my ranch red potatoes with five cheese dish in the oven, is that my fear that I didn't matter. Very few people are remembered hundreds or thousands of years after their death. I guess that I'd be more cool about what is inevitably coming if when I go, as long as those folks who I beat to the death finish line still draw air, thought that I mattered.
I think there are a few of those folks out there.
But sometimes the silence makes me not so sure.
I haven't worked on the book in more than 3 months. I recently swapped out my iPad Pro (mostly to pay for my trip to MI a couple of weeks ago) and decided to pick up the new MIcrosoft Surface Go. It is a quaint little thing, relatively easy to type on (once I got used to it; having big hands sometimes can be a biznatch) and while I will be a Mac guy 4ever, I have also swapped out most of my apple products besides my main computer (to once again help cover my trip).
Anyway, I am getting off subject here...onto the morbid part.
I have always thought about my own demise, since I was a teen. I know that isn't something one should dwell on, but the fact that one of these days I will no longer exist (now that I am less than a year from 50 getting closer every day) sort of bugs me....as well as fascinates me.
Let me get you to the bug me part.
After watching an episode of "CSI" several years back where a body had decomposed to the point that it was simply black muck sort of gave me the creeps. It is hard enough to be black in America, but then to become black muck really sucks.
The one advantage of that is at least the police can try to beat me my muck, and I can have revenge by splattering into their orifices.
Gag on that, a-holes.
Another thing is having my body on display, more bloated than I was in life, for folks to say "goodbye" to.
Wait, that is going with the expectation that anyone would come to my funeral; my oldest has told me more than once that he hopes I go first.
Well loved, I am.
Then there is the other alternative of my body's disposal...cremation. I know, I know...why should I care what happens to my remains....I WOULD BE DEAD, right? I guess that since I have cooked enough dead flesh on a grill, the idea of being tossed in a cardboard box (mingling with paper is the ultimate paper cut) and tossed into an over w/o at least seasoning (I am a black man....we gotta have our seasoning, damn it) is not appealing.
Then again, neither is being slowly eaten by bugs while I become a burnt milkshake.
Ok, creepy part over. Here is the fascinating part (and the inspiration of my current project, providing I ever finish the mofo).
My mother told me when her brother died that right before she got the call the iron that she was using "moved." Now this tale has changed into more supernatural stuff as I got older, but she stuck by her story.
In my nearly 1/2 century on Earth, I have seen some inexplicable shit that science cannot explain away. I know a few of my associates are agnostic or atheist, but the fact that I have 2 sons (where medical science said one should have died because his umbilical cord ruptured) tells me something is more powerful than us out there running shit.
With that being said, it has made me questioned my life's decisions.
I have broken a few commandments.....more than once. With that being said, and assuming Christianity is the truth (something else driven into me by my mom) I am screwed.
This makes me go back to the whole roasting my body like I was a dead pig in a smoker.
If there is a soul, well, damnation awaits if I croak before I figure things out and I change.
Then you gotta look at the other argument.
Supposed the agnostics and atheists are right, that we are basically no more than organisms that expire....AND THAT IS IT.
It is humbling to know that the ants that I killed this morning and I are equally irrelevant.
It's a bummer, cuz it makes me regret not being a bigger male slut, or a massive asshole (even tho I have been a mid-sized asshole once or twice...Mrs. Flagler would confirm this).
I mean, what is the point of accepting a savior and being a good person when I missed out on a lot more fun?
This is my daily internal struggle, to be honest. My teen is on the atheist side, since his Aspergers riddled mind cannot accept something he cannot see, hear or touch.
Is he right?
I guess that is where I am in the middle. If he is right, well the worst that awaits me when my time is up is muckville.
If he is wrong, well he won't be attending the family heaven reunion....and I might be right there next to him doing the whole biblical "gnashing of teeth."
Yeah, I paid a little attention in Sunday School.
The biggest thing tho, as I end this so I don't burn my ranch red potatoes with five cheese dish in the oven, is that my fear that I didn't matter. Very few people are remembered hundreds or thousands of years after their death. I guess that I'd be more cool about what is inevitably coming if when I go, as long as those folks who I beat to the death finish line still draw air, thought that I mattered.
I think there are a few of those folks out there.
But sometimes the silence makes me not so sure.
July 4, 2018
The "4th" Time I've said this
America.
I could say a lot of things about the country I was born in; hell, I have said a lot of things in the past.
When I think about the United States, I think of a great actor, performing a role for 242 years. Even though that role is Oscar-caliber, you can see that ultimately it is just great acting.
Now America isn't all bad (at least at the moment). Once upon a time folks could come here and hope for a new life, the way the place started in the first place (and most of its descendants have forgotten). We can (once again, for the moment) disparage our "elected" leaders if we don't agree how they are wielding the power we have bestowed upon them.
They used to call it "Freedom of Speech."
I remember when I came to Indiana some 23 years ago, waking up in a town called Ellettsville. The first thing I said to my former girlfriend was, "Holy shit, we are in Mayberry."
Now I have throughout the years raged against the machine due to America's racism, sexism, and bigotry. However I cannot deny that since I've been in Indiana, I have been treated fairly decently. Most of the police officers I have encountered have been pleasant folk, and I am, on the most part, left alone (except for a couple of instances I have mentioned in the past).
I also recalled the other day a story I posted on FB many moons ago in jest about going to a "redneck bar" to pick up dinner (broasted chicken; sigh, I miss that shit) and saying that I hope I make it out of there alive.
The irony in what was a sincere ribbing of the past is that now it is the reality of the present.
In today's America, as I was telling to a friend recently, a lot of people who I used to roll with, have drinks with, laugh with, and for a few of them even slept with (don't worry, all Pre-C) have flipped their lids open to show there true selves.
You can do that when you know there is no chance of repercussions for your actions (at least in this life, anyway). I have walked away from long-term relationships, and that makes me sad.
This is the true America, put to sleep by political correctness, now awakened to it s true self after an attempt to have all folks to be equal and judged on their character, in the hopes that our government will do what is best for all its people...
....even the ones that don't look or live like them.
I guess, as I sit here sleep deprived because our son cannot sleep past 1 am anymore on this 242nd birthday of the land that I am from, I cannot celebrate the great actor it has become. The role that it portrays was once about opportunity, now it is showing the world that it is an ugly thing, freed for the first time in decades to scream that if you don't fit into what is an "American", you can get the hell out...
...or we will put your children in cages. Or shoot you because of your skin. Or because you have different sexual organs you are less than. Or because your soul tells you you are supposed to be with a different sex (or BE a different sex) you are an abomination.
Or if you are my son and you can't understand why he rages, we will shoot you like that lady shot that giraffe that is all over the internet.
And don't let me get started on the American Indian; shit, they are the only folks a tier below the folks I just listed.
So yes, I will be grilling a steak today. I will enjoy my day off, because at least last time I checked, I am simply G. Eric Francis, author and federal employee, payer of taxes, obeyer of laws, good friend to those who deserve it.
But I cannot give an Oscar to an actor whose performance is finally beginning to truly crack for the world to see that is all it was....an act.
I could say a lot of things about the country I was born in; hell, I have said a lot of things in the past.
When I think about the United States, I think of a great actor, performing a role for 242 years. Even though that role is Oscar-caliber, you can see that ultimately it is just great acting.
Now America isn't all bad (at least at the moment). Once upon a time folks could come here and hope for a new life, the way the place started in the first place (and most of its descendants have forgotten). We can (once again, for the moment) disparage our "elected" leaders if we don't agree how they are wielding the power we have bestowed upon them.
They used to call it "Freedom of Speech."
I remember when I came to Indiana some 23 years ago, waking up in a town called Ellettsville. The first thing I said to my former girlfriend was, "Holy shit, we are in Mayberry."
Now I have throughout the years raged against the machine due to America's racism, sexism, and bigotry. However I cannot deny that since I've been in Indiana, I have been treated fairly decently. Most of the police officers I have encountered have been pleasant folk, and I am, on the most part, left alone (except for a couple of instances I have mentioned in the past).
I also recalled the other day a story I posted on FB many moons ago in jest about going to a "redneck bar" to pick up dinner (broasted chicken; sigh, I miss that shit) and saying that I hope I make it out of there alive.
The irony in what was a sincere ribbing of the past is that now it is the reality of the present.
In today's America, as I was telling to a friend recently, a lot of people who I used to roll with, have drinks with, laugh with, and for a few of them even slept with (don't worry, all Pre-C) have flipped their lids open to show there true selves.
You can do that when you know there is no chance of repercussions for your actions (at least in this life, anyway). I have walked away from long-term relationships, and that makes me sad.
This is the true America, put to sleep by political correctness, now awakened to it s true self after an attempt to have all folks to be equal and judged on their character, in the hopes that our government will do what is best for all its people...
....even the ones that don't look or live like them.
I guess, as I sit here sleep deprived because our son cannot sleep past 1 am anymore on this 242nd birthday of the land that I am from, I cannot celebrate the great actor it has become. The role that it portrays was once about opportunity, now it is showing the world that it is an ugly thing, freed for the first time in decades to scream that if you don't fit into what is an "American", you can get the hell out...
...or we will put your children in cages. Or shoot you because of your skin. Or because you have different sexual organs you are less than. Or because your soul tells you you are supposed to be with a different sex (or BE a different sex) you are an abomination.
Or if you are my son and you can't understand why he rages, we will shoot you like that lady shot that giraffe that is all over the internet.
And don't let me get started on the American Indian; shit, they are the only folks a tier below the folks I just listed.
So yes, I will be grilling a steak today. I will enjoy my day off, because at least last time I checked, I am simply G. Eric Francis, author and federal employee, payer of taxes, obeyer of laws, good friend to those who deserve it.
But I cannot give an Oscar to an actor whose performance is finally beginning to truly crack for the world to see that is all it was....an act.
June 22, 2018
The Notes we should all listen to
Music is the way we should live life.
The first album I think I got on my own was Prince’s “Purple Rain” (I know, big shocker; I still actually have the vinyl from 1984). I also spent anything I had on 45’s (you young folks may have to look that shit up). Now a lot of my music was R&B or hip hop, I also had Queen, Bon Jovi, lots of top 40 stuff.
I know the music I selected wasn’t meant for me. I mean my cousin visited me here in IN once and looked at my sideways when a Metallica song came on in my playlist.
Now I wasn’t always that enlightened; I have mentioned in posts before that a former friend tried to turn me on to CCR (that’s Credence Clearwater Revival for those not inclined) and I thought it was “white music.”
Now don’t get me wrong, CCR wasn’t trying to reach folks in the Bronx with their sound.
But as I learned about more and more styles of music, constantly seeking new music that I may not have been exposed to, I realize that even if the songs were written for a certain audience, music doesn’t give a shit who is listening to it, as long as it makes you feel SOMETHING.
I hear Chicago,I think of a lost romance.
I hear Chuck D spit, I am proud that a black man is speaking out at injustice.
I listen to Shawn Mendes....sigh, I hated the kid’s voice, but I have a soft spot for singer/songwriters...ok, not sure yet, I’ll get back to ya.
In short, a song always brings up some sort of memory or feeling, whether it is song by a boy or a girl, hip hop to grunge to classic rock to Mr. Nelson.
I even has so many soundtrack scores I can’t count.
Shit, I have 500 “Glee” songs.
OK maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that, but while I have only watched 5 minutes of the pilot (just didn’t catch my interest) I love a great set of voices.
The point is that we should be more like music; just a bunch of notes getting along to create something beautiful. I think that is why the 25 minute drive to and from work 5 days a week is one of the few highlights of my life.
It lets me imaging what we should be like, but no one wants to turn the dial to the right station.
The first album I think I got on my own was Prince’s “Purple Rain” (I know, big shocker; I still actually have the vinyl from 1984). I also spent anything I had on 45’s (you young folks may have to look that shit up). Now a lot of my music was R&B or hip hop, I also had Queen, Bon Jovi, lots of top 40 stuff.
I know the music I selected wasn’t meant for me. I mean my cousin visited me here in IN once and looked at my sideways when a Metallica song came on in my playlist.
Now I wasn’t always that enlightened; I have mentioned in posts before that a former friend tried to turn me on to CCR (that’s Credence Clearwater Revival for those not inclined) and I thought it was “white music.”
Now don’t get me wrong, CCR wasn’t trying to reach folks in the Bronx with their sound.
But as I learned about more and more styles of music, constantly seeking new music that I may not have been exposed to, I realize that even if the songs were written for a certain audience, music doesn’t give a shit who is listening to it, as long as it makes you feel SOMETHING.
I hear Chicago,I think of a lost romance.
I hear Chuck D spit, I am proud that a black man is speaking out at injustice.
I listen to Shawn Mendes....sigh, I hated the kid’s voice, but I have a soft spot for singer/songwriters...ok, not sure yet, I’ll get back to ya.
In short, a song always brings up some sort of memory or feeling, whether it is song by a boy or a girl, hip hop to grunge to classic rock to Mr. Nelson.
I even has so many soundtrack scores I can’t count.
Shit, I have 500 “Glee” songs.
OK maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that, but while I have only watched 5 minutes of the pilot (just didn’t catch my interest) I love a great set of voices.
The point is that we should be more like music; just a bunch of notes getting along to create something beautiful. I think that is why the 25 minute drive to and from work 5 days a week is one of the few highlights of my life.
It lets me imaging what we should be like, but no one wants to turn the dial to the right station.
April 19, 2018
Request for privilege used
Before I begin, it is my hope that you read the following with an open mind, as I try to appeal to your good hearts and souls.
Over the last several years I have alienated people who I have had relationships with on several levels (friendships, past romantic relationships that now are friends, etc) over the matter of race. It has cost me support as I have chased my dreams, since a lot of the posts I have shared on this platform has caused discomfort and disgust, anger and rage. However I feel that talking about what is going on in the country is important, because it affects me and my children. Many of you are parents; if your kids were threatened in any way, you would do anything to make sure they were as safe as they can be.
I am no different from many of you, and I only wish that we can all co-exist in this space in history.
But I have to address my Caucasian associates and friends, including all of those who have agreed with my view that things are just not right.
It is exhausting to try to explain to you that we live in two different worlds, where the privileges promised to all isn’t that way in real life.
Every day I read about how people like me, people who live different lifestyles that are not acceptable to you, people accused of horrible things simply because they worship a different God than you do, or ultimately because they are not Caucasian they are view as less than human.
I am aware that the media slants things to their audience; there hasn’t been GREAT journalism in decades, where the simple truth is told to inform people about the world around them. I am also aware that this platform has been abused to shape the mindsets of everyone...including voters, obviously.
But what is obvious is this....hate has been the blood that has coursed through this country’s veins since its inception. It has, in my nearly 48 years, had me walk on eggshells, trying to fit into a world that obviously doesn’t want folks like me around (to a point, anyway). It has broken my heart, as I see people that I thought were friends run away because I have a desire to be treated like they are, judged based on my actions, not because of better resistance to the sun. It also tears me up when folks I have know who are gay, folks that I’ve know that are Muslim, folks that don’t fit into the bright, light and white America that obviously they are threatened that will be taken away because people don’t want to go back to separate bathrooms, hangings, harassment, and basically treated like dogs.
I have personally listened to the stories of folks of all backgrounds, offering my ear and friendship, not giving a damn that you didn’t look like me. Despite some of the lessons of my parents, children of the segregated south, I simply refused to accept that someone was lesser than I was....or I was lesser than them.
It is why I get so irritated with my Caucasian friends at times. While a lot of them mean well, they at times simply don’t get what folks who aren’t like them go through. All I ever hear a lot of the time are excuses, not change. There are a few warriors out there (they know their names, so I won’t go there) who know things are messed up, and are doing what they can for change.
We as human beings are so afraid of things or people different from them, and we react with hatred and rage. Perhaps I am weird, but that is bullshit. Inquire, ask, learn about folks different than yourselves. Stop listening to the outside noise and actually just say, “I don’t get you...can you please explain why you are, well, you?” I am not saying that we will all hold hands and sing “We Are The World.” Not blind to the fact that will ever happen; we are too flawed. Hell, I know I am on the hell express for my hangups.
I guess, even if I am simply writing this out as self therapy, that to those who only see me as Gregory F Flagler, author, husband, father and friend, not really giving a damn that I am of African descent and sexy (had to toss ONE joke in there) try, truly, to take yourself out of your much safer position and look at wha it’s obvious. There are no crisis actors here. Kids are still dead. Black people are still dead, even if they are guilty of shit. Gay folks are being discriminated against (pretty confident that a member of the LGBQT community can shoot a gun in the armed forces). All these things that are happening to everyone BUT YOU are real, and it sucks.
Y’all wouldn’t tolerate it.
Why should we?
A friend of mine said “not all heroes wear capes.”
This isn’t about being a hero. This is just a desire for understanding, acceptance (and hell, even if you can’t, stay in your yard) and allowing folks who obey the rules of society to simply live.
Fear excluded.
Over the last several years I have alienated people who I have had relationships with on several levels (friendships, past romantic relationships that now are friends, etc) over the matter of race. It has cost me support as I have chased my dreams, since a lot of the posts I have shared on this platform has caused discomfort and disgust, anger and rage. However I feel that talking about what is going on in the country is important, because it affects me and my children. Many of you are parents; if your kids were threatened in any way, you would do anything to make sure they were as safe as they can be.
I am no different from many of you, and I only wish that we can all co-exist in this space in history.
But I have to address my Caucasian associates and friends, including all of those who have agreed with my view that things are just not right.
It is exhausting to try to explain to you that we live in two different worlds, where the privileges promised to all isn’t that way in real life.
Every day I read about how people like me, people who live different lifestyles that are not acceptable to you, people accused of horrible things simply because they worship a different God than you do, or ultimately because they are not Caucasian they are view as less than human.
I am aware that the media slants things to their audience; there hasn’t been GREAT journalism in decades, where the simple truth is told to inform people about the world around them. I am also aware that this platform has been abused to shape the mindsets of everyone...including voters, obviously.
But what is obvious is this....hate has been the blood that has coursed through this country’s veins since its inception. It has, in my nearly 48 years, had me walk on eggshells, trying to fit into a world that obviously doesn’t want folks like me around (to a point, anyway). It has broken my heart, as I see people that I thought were friends run away because I have a desire to be treated like they are, judged based on my actions, not because of better resistance to the sun. It also tears me up when folks I have know who are gay, folks that I’ve know that are Muslim, folks that don’t fit into the bright, light and white America that obviously they are threatened that will be taken away because people don’t want to go back to separate bathrooms, hangings, harassment, and basically treated like dogs.
I have personally listened to the stories of folks of all backgrounds, offering my ear and friendship, not giving a damn that you didn’t look like me. Despite some of the lessons of my parents, children of the segregated south, I simply refused to accept that someone was lesser than I was....or I was lesser than them.
It is why I get so irritated with my Caucasian friends at times. While a lot of them mean well, they at times simply don’t get what folks who aren’t like them go through. All I ever hear a lot of the time are excuses, not change. There are a few warriors out there (they know their names, so I won’t go there) who know things are messed up, and are doing what they can for change.
We as human beings are so afraid of things or people different from them, and we react with hatred and rage. Perhaps I am weird, but that is bullshit. Inquire, ask, learn about folks different than yourselves. Stop listening to the outside noise and actually just say, “I don’t get you...can you please explain why you are, well, you?” I am not saying that we will all hold hands and sing “We Are The World.” Not blind to the fact that will ever happen; we are too flawed. Hell, I know I am on the hell express for my hangups.
I guess, even if I am simply writing this out as self therapy, that to those who only see me as Gregory F Flagler, author, husband, father and friend, not really giving a damn that I am of African descent and sexy (had to toss ONE joke in there) try, truly, to take yourself out of your much safer position and look at wha it’s obvious. There are no crisis actors here. Kids are still dead. Black people are still dead, even if they are guilty of shit. Gay folks are being discriminated against (pretty confident that a member of the LGBQT community can shoot a gun in the armed forces). All these things that are happening to everyone BUT YOU are real, and it sucks.
Y’all wouldn’t tolerate it.
Why should we?
A friend of mine said “not all heroes wear capes.”
This isn’t about being a hero. This is just a desire for understanding, acceptance (and hell, even if you can’t, stay in your yard) and allowing folks who obey the rules of society to simply live.
Fear excluded.
March 23, 2018
Caucasians....what up? (Or "To The Blancos, Part Dos)
Sigh.
Something has been on my mind for a while, and since I am not one who keeps things inside (except when someone uses my body wash....looking at you, 15-year-old), I am gonna spit it out and hope my friend's list doesn't get reduced to 1.
Ok, all jokes aside. I will warn you...this will probably honk some of y'all off, but most of you don't invite me out to beer anyway, so hopefully, you will try to get where I am coming from.
Caucasians make me nervous....and tick me off.
Let me explain for a little bit, and hopefully, you will be open-minded and see why this has been weighed on my mind.
As you can see by my profile, about 90% of my associates and friends are Caucasian. Some of these folks I've known in one or the other for decades. A few of them I've kissed. One or 2 of them I've been intimate with. Now while that may be TMI, there is a method to my madness.
As I got older and learned how the world works, I remembered how my mother always drilled into me that you simply have to keep an eye on Caucasians, because you will meet very few of them who judge you solely on your character. I know this is a narrow view in hindsight (and some may say somewhat racist), but this a woman who grew up in a time (and in the Deep South) where she couldn't go into the same bathrooms as a white person.
Really couldn't blame her for her worldview, even though in her successful management career she befriended many a melanin-light individual. However, once I got to college I wanted to learn about folks that I was rarely around unless I went to my fairly integrated church.
I won't rehash the story about my fascination with Caucasian women in my youth; the entirely different world that Caucasians lived in made me want to get to know them, see what they think...see what they thought about this kid from the Bronx who really never fit in anywhere he went. One of my dearest friends was a white female from a small town near Buffalo, NY (who I wish I still spoke to, but life happens). She never (as far as I could tell at the time) looked at me as Greg the black guy. We were simply D & G, who loved to play pool all the time, saw a few flicks, and in her drunken state, the safe guy she could lay down in bed with and know she wouldn't be molested (even tho I wouldn't have said no if she made a move on me...lol).
Greatly influenced by comedians like Eddie Murphy, Richard Pryor, etc, I thought the best way to fit in was to be funny. While this served me well (especially in my whore-ish 20's), I never gave the view of the real "me"; I tried to be accepted in their world (I.e. the "safe, non-militant black guy") instead of simply being judge on, once again, my character (which from time to time was questionable; I once lied about having a brain tumor in Junior year; when I fessed up, I was one lonely dude for 6 months or so).
Once I left college, I still semi-tried to be the "safe one", not even thinking that the people I called associates and friends thought of me as anyone else but Gregory F. Flagler. Sure, I grew up in NY, sure I learned not to trust the police because of what (some of them) did to people who looked like me, and my mother and father's lessons always were on the cusp of my consciousness. However, it never occurred to me that people that I hung out with would be afraid that perhaps I wanted to be on their level...hell, to be just an American citizen, pay my taxes, go for the mythical "American Dream" that I thought we all had a shot at.
Then Barack Obama got elected president.
Now, of course, that is a high watermark (no matter what the haters may say) for what has been a traditionally bigoted, sexist and racist country in its history. But when that man took office, things that I never thought I'd see from people some I have known since my teens, came flowing out.
And dear god it was disheartening...scary...frightening.
The memes. The bigoted comments. The blame on the media (note, as a person with a degree in Journalism, I know that the news media is all about ratings, bending to the left or the right, etc instead of actually reporting the news. They have a part in it; however they would have no audience if folks didn't believe or agree with what is being reported, i.e. the folks who watch Fox News), or "if he obeyed the police officer, he'd be alive today(um, father with the cell phone, whether or not he was breaking into cars, deserved his day in court, not his day of memorial). The fact that children who don't want to, umm, DIE standing up and some folks think they are full of shit, or so boring they cause indifference and snide comments.
The United Staes is so Un-united, it is comical.
And I point a lot of fingers towards the majority.
I know folks that are bold enough to say something, even tho they were born with a "get out of jail and a hail of bullets and not being called a terrorist or OK to feel up women" card. I applaud them, and I hope that if they have children they teach them that the things they see today ain't right. I know there are folks who realize that while it is ok to own a gun, it isn't OK to own shit that folks in the Armed service would be jealous of. It is sad that a generation who think it is cool to ingest detergent also have the sense to know that since the adults don't have any sense they better do something so they can become adults.
But I am getting off track.
Today as I hope to get to 50 before HBP or Diabetes kills me, I give hugs to folks who offer them to me and accept them, I have been the only person of color in social gatherings, I have offered advice and friendship to anyone who has accepted it.
But when it comes to a good number of my caucasian associates, I always have a 3rd eye open, because while folks have said that they got much love (and have shown it; never have forgotten that) I also see how disconnected a good number of my friends are when it comes to the clusterfuck of bad things that are happening in this country.
Sexual harassment.The disease of money and power.The total disregard for the lives of minorities.The forgiveness of crimes based on who the hell does it.People just letting folks live their lives, even if they disagree with how they are living them.Oblivious or simply not giving a shit because THESE THINGS AREN'T HAPPENING TO THEM.
A lot of white males are good for that shit. The crazy thing is a good number of these dudes are so blind that they don't know that their bigotry, racism, sexism etc are being used against them to keep the few folks who can afford to buy a yacht cash where they are.
So here I am, wondering about every time I smile at a non-black face, wondering what they think of me, or why they think the way they do.
Perhaps I am simplifying things too much...you know, where if folks, even if from different backgrounds, can sit down and actually hash out their differences so they can live together. Me personally, god knows I have made jokes in the past about Caucasians, the LGBTQ community, Latinos, women, hell my own shade. I enjoy ridiculing the stereotypes we have for each other instead of sitting down and realizing that, while different, we all bleed, get sick, hate making white men rich, and will all be DEAD one day.
In short, we are human beings. I have NEVER thought of anyone (ok, lie; since I've semi-grown up) as less than me, whether they have less education, money, if they like the same sex, dressing sexy with big ol' boobs, does porn, is free in their sexuality (whatever that is), OR IF they happen to be someone who gets burned in the sun easily (otherwise I wouldn't have married my wife...lol).
You see, Caucasians don't have to worry about the things I do because they run the place.
Correction, a few run the place, smart enough to make sure we all distrust and hate each other to keep them there.
Sadly, there is plenty of room to share America.
Too bad there isn't room in all of our hearts to do so.
Something has been on my mind for a while, and since I am not one who keeps things inside (except when someone uses my body wash....looking at you, 15-year-old), I am gonna spit it out and hope my friend's list doesn't get reduced to 1.
Ok, all jokes aside. I will warn you...this will probably honk some of y'all off, but most of you don't invite me out to beer anyway, so hopefully, you will try to get where I am coming from.
Caucasians make me nervous....and tick me off.
Let me explain for a little bit, and hopefully, you will be open-minded and see why this has been weighed on my mind.
As you can see by my profile, about 90% of my associates and friends are Caucasian. Some of these folks I've known in one or the other for decades. A few of them I've kissed. One or 2 of them I've been intimate with. Now while that may be TMI, there is a method to my madness.
As I got older and learned how the world works, I remembered how my mother always drilled into me that you simply have to keep an eye on Caucasians, because you will meet very few of them who judge you solely on your character. I know this is a narrow view in hindsight (and some may say somewhat racist), but this a woman who grew up in a time (and in the Deep South) where she couldn't go into the same bathrooms as a white person.
Really couldn't blame her for her worldview, even though in her successful management career she befriended many a melanin-light individual. However, once I got to college I wanted to learn about folks that I was rarely around unless I went to my fairly integrated church.
I won't rehash the story about my fascination with Caucasian women in my youth; the entirely different world that Caucasians lived in made me want to get to know them, see what they think...see what they thought about this kid from the Bronx who really never fit in anywhere he went. One of my dearest friends was a white female from a small town near Buffalo, NY (who I wish I still spoke to, but life happens). She never (as far as I could tell at the time) looked at me as Greg the black guy. We were simply D & G, who loved to play pool all the time, saw a few flicks, and in her drunken state, the safe guy she could lay down in bed with and know she wouldn't be molested (even tho I wouldn't have said no if she made a move on me...lol).
Greatly influenced by comedians like Eddie Murphy, Richard Pryor, etc, I thought the best way to fit in was to be funny. While this served me well (especially in my whore-ish 20's), I never gave the view of the real "me"; I tried to be accepted in their world (I.e. the "safe, non-militant black guy") instead of simply being judge on, once again, my character (which from time to time was questionable; I once lied about having a brain tumor in Junior year; when I fessed up, I was one lonely dude for 6 months or so).
Once I left college, I still semi-tried to be the "safe one", not even thinking that the people I called associates and friends thought of me as anyone else but Gregory F. Flagler. Sure, I grew up in NY, sure I learned not to trust the police because of what (some of them) did to people who looked like me, and my mother and father's lessons always were on the cusp of my consciousness. However, it never occurred to me that people that I hung out with would be afraid that perhaps I wanted to be on their level...hell, to be just an American citizen, pay my taxes, go for the mythical "American Dream" that I thought we all had a shot at.
Then Barack Obama got elected president.
Now, of course, that is a high watermark (no matter what the haters may say) for what has been a traditionally bigoted, sexist and racist country in its history. But when that man took office, things that I never thought I'd see from people some I have known since my teens, came flowing out.
And dear god it was disheartening...scary...frightening.
The memes. The bigoted comments. The blame on the media (note, as a person with a degree in Journalism, I know that the news media is all about ratings, bending to the left or the right, etc instead of actually reporting the news. They have a part in it; however they would have no audience if folks didn't believe or agree with what is being reported, i.e. the folks who watch Fox News), or "if he obeyed the police officer, he'd be alive today(um, father with the cell phone, whether or not he was breaking into cars, deserved his day in court, not his day of memorial). The fact that children who don't want to, umm, DIE standing up and some folks think they are full of shit, or so boring they cause indifference and snide comments.
The United Staes is so Un-united, it is comical.
And I point a lot of fingers towards the majority.
I know folks that are bold enough to say something, even tho they were born with a "get out of jail and a hail of bullets and not being called a terrorist or OK to feel up women" card. I applaud them, and I hope that if they have children they teach them that the things they see today ain't right. I know there are folks who realize that while it is ok to own a gun, it isn't OK to own shit that folks in the Armed service would be jealous of. It is sad that a generation who think it is cool to ingest detergent also have the sense to know that since the adults don't have any sense they better do something so they can become adults.
But I am getting off track.
Today as I hope to get to 50 before HBP or Diabetes kills me, I give hugs to folks who offer them to me and accept them, I have been the only person of color in social gatherings, I have offered advice and friendship to anyone who has accepted it.
But when it comes to a good number of my caucasian associates, I always have a 3rd eye open, because while folks have said that they got much love (and have shown it; never have forgotten that) I also see how disconnected a good number of my friends are when it comes to the clusterfuck of bad things that are happening in this country.
Sexual harassment.The disease of money and power.The total disregard for the lives of minorities.The forgiveness of crimes based on who the hell does it.People just letting folks live their lives, even if they disagree with how they are living them.Oblivious or simply not giving a shit because THESE THINGS AREN'T HAPPENING TO THEM.
A lot of white males are good for that shit. The crazy thing is a good number of these dudes are so blind that they don't know that their bigotry, racism, sexism etc are being used against them to keep the few folks who can afford to buy a yacht cash where they are.
So here I am, wondering about every time I smile at a non-black face, wondering what they think of me, or why they think the way they do.
Perhaps I am simplifying things too much...you know, where if folks, even if from different backgrounds, can sit down and actually hash out their differences so they can live together. Me personally, god knows I have made jokes in the past about Caucasians, the LGBTQ community, Latinos, women, hell my own shade. I enjoy ridiculing the stereotypes we have for each other instead of sitting down and realizing that, while different, we all bleed, get sick, hate making white men rich, and will all be DEAD one day.
In short, we are human beings. I have NEVER thought of anyone (ok, lie; since I've semi-grown up) as less than me, whether they have less education, money, if they like the same sex, dressing sexy with big ol' boobs, does porn, is free in their sexuality (whatever that is), OR IF they happen to be someone who gets burned in the sun easily (otherwise I wouldn't have married my wife...lol).
You see, Caucasians don't have to worry about the things I do because they run the place.
Correction, a few run the place, smart enough to make sure we all distrust and hate each other to keep them there.
Sadly, there is plenty of room to share America.
Too bad there isn't room in all of our hearts to do so.
