Father's Day Isn't Happy For Everyone

Days like this are hard when you have a parent who has passed away, I haven't bought a power tool, necktie, short/polo combination, card, or taken my father to dinner in 7 years.

It's funny the things you miss.

It was only last Father's Day that I brought myself to delete his number from my phonebook; the reality that I would never get a call during the game from him again finally set in. My father was my best friend, I used to think that was a great thing, but here we are 7 years later and he still hasn't been replaced.

William Reid Jr was a great man (notice I didn't say perfect). He embodied the soldier's creed. His love for God, his family, and his country drove nearly all the choices he made in his adult life.

As I reminisce, I can't help but smile because that's what my Father did more than anything; it's what most people remember him for. I haven't met a person who knew my father who hasn't had a funny story to tell about him. No question as to where I got my sense of humor from.

He was the strongest man I ever known. I have witnessed him defy the odds and survive and recover from 3 strokes, extreme hypoglycemia (his blood sugar so high the Doctors couldn't believe how he staved off a coma let alone death), Hodgkin's lymphoma, chemotherapy, the massive brain tumor that developed after the chemo stopped and daily radiation it took to shrink it, only to succumb to sepsis from an infection that developed when the wound in his stomach wasn't properly cared for after his dementia lead him to pull the feeding tube they placed in his stomach out.

I guess we really only get 9 lives...

My dad was a man who never stopped believing in Redemption. "No relationship based in love could ever be damaged beyond repair" is what he said to me when I was in the midst of a quarrel with one of my siblings that lasted for nearly a year. He orchestrated our reconciliation.

"Do what's right" has to be the best advice he ever gave me; even though I still struggle to follow it.

"Your breast got lost in the mail" has to be the funniest thing he has ever said to me. What a way to explain flat-chestedness to your 14 year old daughter. (Anyone else detect foreshadow here besides me?)

"You ain't fooling nobody, be yourself" were the last instructions he gave me, that February morning while I was feeding him his breakfast. Letting me know that he knew I was gay (no matter how I tried to hide and deny) and giving me the courage to live a life outside of the shadows.

"I love you" the last words I said to him, on Monday, February 24th at approximately 11:30 in Pitt Memorial Hospital, a little more than 7 years ago.

His absence in my life mean my children have to grow up without their Grandfather; my youngest is too young to remember any of the memories he created with him. I think that saddens me more than anything else.

Today I honor my Father by praying for those Fathers and Grandfathers who have CHOSEN to be absent in their children's lives and for those who have severed relationships due to circumstances. My prayer is they find themselves on the road to Redemption before they leave this dimension.

I salute you Dad; your love for me has transcended the grave.

RIP SSG William Reid, Jr you will forever be loved and missed.

For you people who have your Fathers here, honor them, and take time to think about those who have to spend the day absent from their Fathers for whatever reason.

Hate It or Love It; Either Way You Felt Somethin'

Letter to LeBron

Dear LeBron,

I am NOT one of your fans (just wanted to say that up front) but I LOVE the game of basketball with everything that is in me. I love it in a way that only a person who doesn't have your talent can.

I think you are a prime example of what's wrong with the game! You don't LOVE or RESPECT the soul of the game.

I know this morning you are somewhere scratching your head trying to figure out how this bunch of old vets have found a way to defend you, out play you, make 4th quarter runs, repeatedly remain defiant in the face of your youthful exuberance.

I think people compare you to Michael Jordan too much and do you a disservice by doing so. Yes Michael Jordan was one of the most talented players the game of basketball had ever seen, BUT his talent is NOT what made him one of the game's greatest winners.

His will to win was born through his intimate knowledge of defeat, and his fortunate apprenticeship under basketball's Socrates, Dean E. Smith. See people who are innately born without the ability to leap backboards in a single bound have a different type of appreciation for the game, that's why they make the greatest coaches.

Dean Smith taught Michael that talent was not enough to win, it takes a team to win. Even though he temporarily forgot this lesson when he came into the league. Larry Bird, Isiah Thomas, and Magic Johnson each took turns reinforcing that lesson. Dean Smith taught Michael to respect, outthink, and outwork each opponent (I'm paraphrasing from his Hall of Fame speech), once he applied that knowledge and combined it with his talent he began to dominate on a championship level.


Oh yeah and before you start thinking this is another one of MJs fans hating on you, every one who knows me knows that I also am NOT a Michael Jordan fan!

You sir lack the work ethic Everything has come to you so easily that you (like all other 80s babies) feel you are entitled. Where were you taught to persevere? My mother always told me "the only place success comes before work is in the dictionary."

Here are a few things that all champions must possess:
-Confidence
-Perseverance
-Determination

These things come with time and experience. I feel you did yourself a huge disservice by not going to college. You chose money over success. You believed the hype that you were the best. If you want to be a professional you need to study your craft. Most people go to college to become experts in their field. You had the audacity to feel like you were Great enough to skip that part...well now you are feeling the pressure.

Ever wondered why Derrick Rose and Kevin Durrant are having so much success early in their careers...they went to college!

Players later in their careers choose to go form alliances to win championships. You had the opportunity to bring the first championship to your home state and you gave that up. You flaunted your choice to leave and you are relying on your talent to get you through...you have SO much to learn!

There are a lot of GREAT, talented, and deserving ball players who never won a championship. Championships aren't guaranteed and everybody wont get one. You may join their ranks. I for one hope so, I think it will be good for the game...it will force kids to go to college to LEARN the game of basketball.



You have to develop the heart of of a champion...that heart is tested in the fire.

Hate It Or Love It; Either Way You Felt Somethin'

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

Last week, May 27, 2011, the great poet, musician, author, and spoken word pioneer Gil Scott-Heron left this dimension, and we all have been inspired to ponder his legacy.

I remember one Saturday afternoon in the early 80s, while fingering through the record collection at my Grandma Annie's house in Elizabeth City, NC, I came across the LP (or the big plastic cd thing to you youngsters) Small Talk at 125th and Lenox. I had no idea who this guy was but I knew that I LOVED LOVED LOVED the song 'The Revolution Will Not Be Televised'! I can still hear him chanting "the revolution will not be televised"

The only line that called out to me as a 6 year old was "The revolution will not come with Coke", and would anxiously wait for that part to come. I was my quest to time it just right and jump in with that line on time. I wouldn't play anything else until I was successful.

As I look back it becomes obvious to me that I walked away with more than the powerful feeling that came with my success. No one ever thinks about who or what influences them until they get famous and asked the question.

I had never really pondered my answer to the question until this very moment...ok well maybe 3 minutes ago.

Gil Scott-Heron is one of my biggest influences. He is the first person to introduce me to poetry and the actual idea of a Revolution in smooth ass kinda way. I had never really thought of how he helped me fall in love with poetry, and embrace my inner rebel.

As a sixth grader my English teacher Mrs McMillian told me that I was "A rebel with NO cause." Even though I embraced her statement, (Kinda thought it was cool) I never really took the time to think about what that statement meant.

Rebellion is in my DNA. Every cell in my body was programmed to revolt. It clearly is so rebellious that my white blood cells are now attacking ME (thanks MS...flips the bird) but I still stand here in defiance.

I will honor Gil Scott-Heron's legacy and strive to be a part of this proverbial Revolution.

If you continue to sit on the sidelines you will miss it.

Life is but a dream. Our days were allotted & our burdens assigned long before we even crossed into this dimension.

I hope to live a life in defiance of the status quo...so I speak words of revolution & change.

Rest in Paradise Mr. Gil Scott-Heron. I am honored to have been inspired by you. I hope that you see the fruit of your labor and look on with pride.

Hate It or Love It; Either Way You Felt Somethin'

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. Will Not Be Televised. Will Not Be Televised.

Letter to Donald Trump

Dear Mr Trump,

As a Republican and lover of all things free enterprise, I'm letting you know it would be so much easier for me to take you seriously as a candidate if you would stop talking about Obama's birth certificate.

You are already making strong arguments about us losing 290 billion in commerce and job opportunities to the Chinese just last year. You seemed passionate as a business man when you said that you were "tired of building buildings with parts that are made in China". Good...me too! I like that you allege to have a business plan to get America out of "this mess". Great...I'd love to see it. Its early and you have already laid the groundwork for what it will take to keep me from voting for Obama again but this time ONLY because he's black.

Then I hear you say some dumb shit like "It is POSSIBLE that the President was born in Hawaii. How can any Red-Blooded Republican question the legality of someone's presidency? Didn't the other guy get more votes that time? Didn't Bush have his little brother Jeb trick those geezers out of their vote so he could secure his electoral college numbers?

But wait...let me pump my brakes because I almost sound like you when I say stuff like that. Difference is I'm a journalist and not running for President of this great country.

UrbanJournalist

Jim Crow on Display in Eastern NC

On April 6, 2011 James Richardson was convicted of double murder in Greenville, NC and sentenced to two consecutive life without parole sentences, plus another 8 to 12 years for the gun charge.

Lamuel Anderson, Juror #12, held a press conference and spoke out on April 7th saying he caved under pressure from Judge and Jury. Jury deliberations in James Richardson's trial began on Friday, April 1st and lasted for four days.

Anderson's wife stated that her husband told her that on Friday there were three votes for not-guilty Juror 7, Juror 11, and , Juror 12.

The jury was not sequestered over the weekend.

According to Anderson, by Monday morning April 4th Juror 11 had changed their mind. Juror 12 then sent a note by the foreman to Judge Duke asking for an explanation of a hung jury, noting his hesitancy to change his mind.

Judge Duke responded by telling the jury it was their "duty" to return a unanimous verdict.

Tuesday April 5th, Juror 7 changed their mind. Juror 12 asked to be removed from the jury. Judge Duke denied his request.

Judge Duke met with the Jury on the morning of April 6th and laid out the rules of conviction once more. Telling jurors, "In the course of your deliberations, you should not hesitate to reexamine your own views and change your opinion."

Juror 12 changed his mind on April 6th.

The Defendant, James Richardson's mother spoke out at the press conference saying the state failed to prove its case. Pointing out that the burden of proof was on the state.

The defense was able to poke holes into the state's case by pointing out discrepancies in statements taken by police, showed their lack of eyewitnesses and DNA evidence. There were no witnesses who placed Richardson in the car while shots were fired. There were also witnesses who testified seeing more than one gunman in the car.

Richardson's mother said, "They had no suspect. They didn't have enough probable cause for a warrant, much less a Capital case!"

Juror 12 said the state didn't not prove to him beyond a reasonable doubt that Richardson was even in the car at the time of the shooting. He said the evidence showed the gunman had to be firing from the passenger's seat, which directly contrasted the state's lone gunman theory.

He says he regrets not sticking to his convictions but is glad he spoke out. He says he wants to see justice served.

When corruption in the legal system on all levels its disheartening but sadly all too common.

Several witnesses testified under oath that police falsified their statements when they were reported as identifying the defendant in the car.

The prosecution denied offering the one witness who testified against Richardson a deal in exchange for his testimony, despite the documentation presented by the defense.

The judge repeatedly ignored juror issues and ordered the jury to return a unanimous decision.

Separate but equal still seems to apply in Eastern North Carolina. It is my hope that Jim Crow's reign will finally end soon.

Geekboi In Training

What on Earth am I being trained to be?

As I take a look at my life right now in this moment I see myself teetering on the edge of a personal breakthrough. And even though I immediately get an image of Sister Gillespi's karate chop choir directing arm (shouts to all my fellow Breakthrough Choir members...lol), I'm not talking about a Spiritual Breakthrough. Nor am I talking about a Financial Breakthrough (sorry Mom). I am on the cusp a a Personal Breakthrough.

On January 25, 2006 I stood underneath the stars and declared that I would stop EXISTING...and actually LIVE. I had given 30 years of my life to other people and it only resulted in my misery. Every aspect of my life was the result of a choice I had made for someone else. I knew that my life would be different; I just had no idea how much I'd be right.

My anger at my mediocre life forced me to start a revolution. I quit my job. I moved my family. I found a career. I traveled. Indulged my kids. Found love. I mean I really enjoyed life.

I began to create again. Music had returned. Softly sung Alto tones sometimes woke me, and inspired me to write. Her silhouette beckoned to be drawn. Odd beauty my muse. It was the 2nd time in my life that I was saved by The Arts.

But only God knew that was just the High before the Low. Only He knew that my love would fade long before my health did. That my right side would suddenly stop working. That my kids would no longer be in the next room, and that their faces would be replaced by those of my roommates'. That she would say, "I'm getting married tomorrow" as I lay naked watching her get dressed to leave. That I would spend my Valentine's Day alone in the hospital. That I would have to fight to regain custody of my sons. That once I started to rebound she would try to hook me again. That I would find the strength to walk away from her and close the door behind me. That I would find the courage to be alone.

But here again...only God knows what His plan is for me.

Happiness is an achievement; unfortunately it must be preceded by Pain.

I feel like a modern day Job, even after I lost it all I refused to curse him. (I got mad and challenged Him to a few jousts but never cursed him).

I realize it all must be preparation for something...

Now my journey has me studying great thinkers from the past and present, and realizing that I have more in common with them than I thought. Learning to live my life based on principles, not in a never ending chase of doe. Experiencing unconditional love and true friendship. Laughing from my soul, and smiling in the dark. Living and Loving.

I realize that I swallowed a Red Pill on my 30th birthday, and ever since that moment I've been in a training simulator.

Now I'm starting to anticipate blows and form bonds with like-minded strangers, its almost time for that proverbial "Untelevised Revolution".

Once my training and transformation is complete; I'll be sent back into The Matrix...Armed with Jokes and Experience...Ready to Kick ass and Take Names. My fight scenes are gonna be EPIC!

...Hate It or Love it; Either Way You Felt Somethin'

Geekboi's Truths

Another year on this earth. Its hard to believe that I'm 35. Last year this time I was totally melancholy. I had been dealt a blow that forced me to reset my life. I decided that I needed to reconnect with the things that shaped my character; my family, my clones, my home. I knew that if nothing else, I would be safe at home.

In my cocoon with take-out menus and my journal I let my heart bleed. My pain drove me to my knees; and not with prayers for my health but with prayers for my own heart. As my hopes and fears gushed I took a good look at the person I had become. Once I peeled back the scabs, cleansed myself of the residual emotions, and fed my soul I could recognize the person in the mirror. Sure I had aged and had a few battle scars but thats what is supposed to happen in life; if you truly live. No one has learned to ride a bike without getting some scars. To quote Mr. McKlurkin, "we fall down but we get up."

I had it all wrong. I thought the failure was in the fall; I learned the failure was in refusing to get up.

Not only did I get up, I covered that sink hole and I moved on.

Three great things happened in my 34th year of life; I began to share my poetry, I connected with my children as people not responsibilities, and I was gifted with an angel...my Nala.

Happiness is an achievement not a gift. You must work for it. You must cultivate the relationship you have with the creator, cultivate the relationships you have with those that will mourn your passing, and look to be a blessing to someone else.

Now that I have begun my journey to my destiny; I can't wait to see what year 35 has in store. I hope that every time I interact with someone they leave with something they have to talk about. Whether its something I said, the way I carry myself, or something I did good or bad...

...Hate It or Love It; Either Way You Felt Somethin'