Friday, May 29, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Stranger in My House-Part I
Today I called my older male cousin to check on him. He had been on my mind for a few days, so I decided to reach out on the old fashioned Bell.
Our interchange began with the usual...jokes from his end about how I don't care about him anymore because I haven't called him in 20 years. Didn't I just see you a few weeks ago? But, that is my cousin. Troy is crazy and I love him. His jokes are a normalcy in our relationship and I wouldn't trade him for a billion dollars. Wait---1 Billion? Okay, no still wouldn't trade him. Had to think about that for a sec, though. Kidding....sort of. :-)
Any who, after catching each other up about little things here and there, he goes completely left on me. I didn't expect to hear these words escape his mouth...but they did. My macho, fun loving, has everything together cousin admitted to me he is actually afraid of something. Immediately, I turned off the muted idiot box (TV), folded my legs in a comfortable Indian style on the sofa, and focused on what was coming next.
Troy is a great provider and protector for his family. He is a hard worker, follower of God's Word, a lover of people, has a humble heart, infectious sense of humor, and undoubtedly has a strong character. Of course there are imperfections because he is human. But, he really does try to be the best at it all. I am proud to call this upstanding gentleman my cousin...with his crazy self. Of all the 20 something years I have been on this Earth, fear is the last feeling I thought could embody him. He is strong...like a bull. Never wavering. I want to ask him what is he afraid of. Instead, my mouth shuts as I allow him to vent to his little cuz. It's my turn to be the shoulder and ear for him.
He tells me his baby boy is moving out of the house, which Troy has been pushing him to do in the past 6 months. Allow me to rephrase that. Baby boy matriculated through college and walked across the stage in December to receive his Bachelors. The day of graduation, Troy told him he had exactly 6 months to move out and become a man. Mind you, my little cuz would live between home and his friend's apartment in the city. Baby boy didn't mind as he had been making plans to rent a spot downtown. He said he wanted to be as close to the party scene as possible since the city never sleeps. Okay...if you say so. Apparently, baby boy signed his lease this past weekend and began moving items to his new bachelor pad this morning. Okay, I see where this is going. He is actually growing into a man and Troy is reaching from his emotional side at this moment. Wow...and he chose me to share it with. Okay, this is a milestone for us. My cuz is not He-Man after all. :-)
"Aw, cuz. Your son is finally coming into true manhood, huh? It's cool. You raised him well, he will be fine."
"B, that's not what I am concerned about. I know that knuckle head son of mine will be fine. He is a go getter and he's got a good head on his shoulders."
"Rite...rite. So, what's the issue then?"
Now, I am puzzled. Oh goodness. Troy is about to drop a bomb on me...he is too calm right now.
"Truth be told...and I haven't shared this with anyone else. You are a grown woman, so you can handle this. See, this is why I am so hard on you about dating because I want you to be good."
"Okay......."
"How can I say this?"
"You know me, Troy. Keep it 100."
"I'll just say exactly how I feel it. It's just me and Deb now...just the 2 of us. And it scares the crap out of me. All this time in our marriage I feel like its been about the kids. Now what will we do when all we have is each other? I am afraid we won't make it. I am thinking about leaving."
WHAT??!!
This is the last thing I thought he would say. I always looked at Troy and Deb as the perfect couple. Sure, I knew they had their issues. He always kept it real with me and said that it hasn't been a crystal stair. But, she was the love of his life and they always worked everything out.
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
How did they get here? Was it always about the kids? Did they truly love each other? Is there someone else? Does he feel he missed out on something or someone? Maybe this is a mid-life crisis he is stumbling upon.
I can't believe this. I need to get to the bottom of this...today...
Stay tuned for Part 2....
Our interchange began with the usual...jokes from his end about how I don't care about him anymore because I haven't called him in 20 years. Didn't I just see you a few weeks ago? But, that is my cousin. Troy is crazy and I love him. His jokes are a normalcy in our relationship and I wouldn't trade him for a billion dollars. Wait---1 Billion? Okay, no still wouldn't trade him. Had to think about that for a sec, though. Kidding....sort of. :-)
Any who, after catching each other up about little things here and there, he goes completely left on me. I didn't expect to hear these words escape his mouth...but they did. My macho, fun loving, has everything together cousin admitted to me he is actually afraid of something. Immediately, I turned off the muted idiot box (TV), folded my legs in a comfortable Indian style on the sofa, and focused on what was coming next.
Troy is a great provider and protector for his family. He is a hard worker, follower of God's Word, a lover of people, has a humble heart, infectious sense of humor, and undoubtedly has a strong character. Of course there are imperfections because he is human. But, he really does try to be the best at it all. I am proud to call this upstanding gentleman my cousin...with his crazy self. Of all the 20 something years I have been on this Earth, fear is the last feeling I thought could embody him. He is strong...like a bull. Never wavering. I want to ask him what is he afraid of. Instead, my mouth shuts as I allow him to vent to his little cuz. It's my turn to be the shoulder and ear for him.
He tells me his baby boy is moving out of the house, which Troy has been pushing him to do in the past 6 months. Allow me to rephrase that. Baby boy matriculated through college and walked across the stage in December to receive his Bachelors. The day of graduation, Troy told him he had exactly 6 months to move out and become a man. Mind you, my little cuz would live between home and his friend's apartment in the city. Baby boy didn't mind as he had been making plans to rent a spot downtown. He said he wanted to be as close to the party scene as possible since the city never sleeps. Okay...if you say so. Apparently, baby boy signed his lease this past weekend and began moving items to his new bachelor pad this morning. Okay, I see where this is going. He is actually growing into a man and Troy is reaching from his emotional side at this moment. Wow...and he chose me to share it with. Okay, this is a milestone for us. My cuz is not He-Man after all. :-)
"Aw, cuz. Your son is finally coming into true manhood, huh? It's cool. You raised him well, he will be fine."
"B, that's not what I am concerned about. I know that knuckle head son of mine will be fine. He is a go getter and he's got a good head on his shoulders."
"Rite...rite. So, what's the issue then?"
Now, I am puzzled. Oh goodness. Troy is about to drop a bomb on me...he is too calm right now.
"Truth be told...and I haven't shared this with anyone else. You are a grown woman, so you can handle this. See, this is why I am so hard on you about dating because I want you to be good."
"Okay......."
"How can I say this?"
"You know me, Troy. Keep it 100."
"I'll just say exactly how I feel it. It's just me and Deb now...just the 2 of us. And it scares the crap out of me. All this time in our marriage I feel like its been about the kids. Now what will we do when all we have is each other? I am afraid we won't make it. I am thinking about leaving."
WHAT??!!
This is the last thing I thought he would say. I always looked at Troy and Deb as the perfect couple. Sure, I knew they had their issues. He always kept it real with me and said that it hasn't been a crystal stair. But, she was the love of his life and they always worked everything out.
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
How did they get here? Was it always about the kids? Did they truly love each other? Is there someone else? Does he feel he missed out on something or someone? Maybe this is a mid-life crisis he is stumbling upon.
I can't believe this. I need to get to the bottom of this...today...
Stay tuned for Part 2....
Obamas...Creepin
Great day to you all. It is indeed a Terrific Thursday from where I stand. There isn't any rain in sight, the sun is bright, the feel is warm, and the weekend is near. Yes....I am just as dandy as I can be.
So, the other night I have yet another interesting dream. In the first scene, it is obviously night based upon the mood of the people surrounding me. I am sitting at the foot of a bed as another lady sits at the head of this same bed. She is diagonal from my position. At the desk in this bedroom is my mother, and kneeling on the floor with elbows propped on the bed is a man. The conversations were very casual as we talked amongst ourselves. As I settled in the scene mentally maybe 1 minute into the dream, I recognized 1st Lady O and President O were the unknown characters in this scene. The Obamas are creeping in my dream...I hope this is a long one.
Although I cannot recall what was being said amongst us, I do know President O was very relaxed. He had on his shirt and tie with slacks. Of course it had been a long day, but he was as cool as he always is. No cameras. No reporters. Just the 4 of us shooting the breeze. Michelle O sported something resembling a cardigan and pants. No pearls. This was down time. My mother wore khaki or white pants and a crisp button down. Maybe it was a linen 'fit. It seems her black straw hat she is famous for wearing lie on the desk. She crossed her legs towards the bed to participate in the chat. As we chuckled about something, in bounces Miss Sasha with a book in her hand. She was maybe 3 years younger than she is today and dressed in her 1 piece pajama...looking too cute with missing teeth. She aims right at the Prez.
"Daddy? Will you read me this story?"
President O lips moved, but there was silence. It was almost as if I was watching the scene in a muted version. He obliged his baby girls' request, excused himself, and followed Sasha's energetic exit from the room. It became clear to me at that moment we were located in the People's House (the term White House is so passe) at this moment. I continued chatting with the 3 ladies as we were winding down. We were interrupted by the whining of Malia. This seemed to be so out of character for the reserved, polished child I see in pictures. However, she was unhappy, complaining that she was not able to sleep because we were too loud. Malia looked to be maybe 5 years of age. Michelle O gave her a stern look, motioned to us that she would soon return, and lead Malia from the room. The scene changed.
I was walking into a large building that resembled the likes of a warehouse. I had on a stylish head scarf and over-sized shades during these early morning hours. This is certainly a look I have sported several times running around the neighborhood in the A.M. As I entered the large room full of folks, I began to remove the head covering that was simply meant to maintain my freshly glazed locs until I was ready let them flow. I approached a floor length mirror as walked the cracked, concrete floors and caught a glance of myself. In reality, my locs are jet black (thanks to Clairol). However, the reflection I received from the glass displayed my brown face with various shades of blonde curls...ranging from golden blonde to platinum. The hair was absolutely gorgeous. But I marveled at the look as I tried to figure out how this happened.
Just then, I saw my mother from my peripheral and decided to catch up to her. She stood at a long table wearing clear, plastic gloves, and a white apron. To the right of us were rows and rows of what seemed to be homeless men. Ahh...these folks are apart of my passion in life. This is great. I place the glammed shades and scarf inside my handbag and pick up my gloves and apron as I prepared to serve with a cheek to cheek smile on my face. Michelle O appeared and explained to mom and I the way the buffet would be served to the men. Again, her lips were moving, but there was silence.
I wake. Faith tells me this could happen in the next few years. I look forward to actively diminishing the homeless epidemic in my community. Of course we should all do what we can where we are financially. And I do my part. But, it is never enough for me. It is very possible the O's will be a link in the chain of networks I will build. To some that may be far fetched. But, I am just crazy enough to know that ANYTHING is very probable in my life.
Faith...
So, the other night I have yet another interesting dream. In the first scene, it is obviously night based upon the mood of the people surrounding me. I am sitting at the foot of a bed as another lady sits at the head of this same bed. She is diagonal from my position. At the desk in this bedroom is my mother, and kneeling on the floor with elbows propped on the bed is a man. The conversations were very casual as we talked amongst ourselves. As I settled in the scene mentally maybe 1 minute into the dream, I recognized 1st Lady O and President O were the unknown characters in this scene. The Obamas are creeping in my dream...I hope this is a long one.
Although I cannot recall what was being said amongst us, I do know President O was very relaxed. He had on his shirt and tie with slacks. Of course it had been a long day, but he was as cool as he always is. No cameras. No reporters. Just the 4 of us shooting the breeze. Michelle O sported something resembling a cardigan and pants. No pearls. This was down time. My mother wore khaki or white pants and a crisp button down. Maybe it was a linen 'fit. It seems her black straw hat she is famous for wearing lie on the desk. She crossed her legs towards the bed to participate in the chat. As we chuckled about something, in bounces Miss Sasha with a book in her hand. She was maybe 3 years younger than she is today and dressed in her 1 piece pajama...looking too cute with missing teeth. She aims right at the Prez.
"Daddy? Will you read me this story?"
President O lips moved, but there was silence. It was almost as if I was watching the scene in a muted version. He obliged his baby girls' request, excused himself, and followed Sasha's energetic exit from the room. It became clear to me at that moment we were located in the People's House (the term White House is so passe) at this moment. I continued chatting with the 3 ladies as we were winding down. We were interrupted by the whining of Malia. This seemed to be so out of character for the reserved, polished child I see in pictures. However, she was unhappy, complaining that she was not able to sleep because we were too loud. Malia looked to be maybe 5 years of age. Michelle O gave her a stern look, motioned to us that she would soon return, and lead Malia from the room. The scene changed.
I was walking into a large building that resembled the likes of a warehouse. I had on a stylish head scarf and over-sized shades during these early morning hours. This is certainly a look I have sported several times running around the neighborhood in the A.M. As I entered the large room full of folks, I began to remove the head covering that was simply meant to maintain my freshly glazed locs until I was ready let them flow. I approached a floor length mirror as walked the cracked, concrete floors and caught a glance of myself. In reality, my locs are jet black (thanks to Clairol). However, the reflection I received from the glass displayed my brown face with various shades of blonde curls...ranging from golden blonde to platinum. The hair was absolutely gorgeous. But I marveled at the look as I tried to figure out how this happened.
Just then, I saw my mother from my peripheral and decided to catch up to her. She stood at a long table wearing clear, plastic gloves, and a white apron. To the right of us were rows and rows of what seemed to be homeless men. Ahh...these folks are apart of my passion in life. This is great. I place the glammed shades and scarf inside my handbag and pick up my gloves and apron as I prepared to serve with a cheek to cheek smile on my face. Michelle O appeared and explained to mom and I the way the buffet would be served to the men. Again, her lips were moving, but there was silence.
I wake. Faith tells me this could happen in the next few years. I look forward to actively diminishing the homeless epidemic in my community. Of course we should all do what we can where we are financially. And I do my part. But, it is never enough for me. It is very possible the O's will be a link in the chain of networks I will build. To some that may be far fetched. But, I am just crazy enough to know that ANYTHING is very probable in my life.
Faith...
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Maintenance Man
Before your mind even goes there, I am not referring to the creeper some of you call to fix your pipes late at night. Nah, not going there today.
So, I visit my auto shop I trust to take care of my precious vehicle yesterday. She is over 15 years old, in great shape, looks well, and rides like a dream now. That's my baby. And since I refuse to have a car note for the next few years, I have vowed to care for her as if she is a 2010. I named her Mocha Mama** (name change to protect her privacy & mine) when I copped her almost 10 years ago.
I pull up to the shop parking lot, and I see Maintenance Man (MM) sitting behind his desk through the window. I walk in, share pleasantries, and patiently wait as he completes what seems to be an informal counseling session with a younger male customer. When the fellow exits the office and starts his engine, MM automatically divulges the synopsis of their convo without a word from me. Since forming my working relationship with MM a few months ago to do some major work on my baby, I have come to understand he tries to make "friends" with his customers. He is an older, southern guy who could talk to a tree stump all day long. Born and bred southerners such as myself usually meet people well, and MM is no different.
MM knows why I am here as I spoke with him last week. I called him before I arrived as a reminder. Therefore, there is no need to recap again. Keep in mind I am on my lunch break and am very punctual when it comes to work. Okay, MM I have 40 minutes for you to handle yours so I can be gone. What does MM do? He starts telling me about his women.
Initially, I listen and respond to some of his comments. He is 40 something, never been married, no children, and is almost ready to settle down. Not quite prepared for commitment, but he is headed that way according to him. MM tells me about these women currently on the roster. My Vanilla brother makes it plain that he doesn't enjoy the company of the ladies who share his racial background, but prefers Chocolate ladies. Okay, I can totally see that right now. He likes a challenge and is a bit out of the box. But, MM tends to hook up with mothers and 40 year old grandmothers. He goes for the ladies who just got out of a relationship 2 weeks ago, but doesn't want to be the rebound guy.
*Ouch! Played that position before.*
He loves to take them on weekend trips, but complains when they become too attached in his eyes. MM shows me a pic of a particular sistah who seems to tickle his fancy. He smiles as he talks about how adorable she is. In the next breath he explains how after 3 weeks of dating she started asking him about the future. He claims it was too much for him. But, why is it 5 weeks later and her face is your iPhone screen saver? MM, what is really going on with you, sir? And has anyone pulled my car into the garage yet?
30 minutes pass by, and MM has not done a thing to my car. I have 10 more minutes to get back on the clock at the ship. I really have to get the keys to that spaceship Kanye is gassing up right about now. I wish I had more time to explore what the heck is going on inside his head for the sake of my invisible Detective prefix to my name. Does MM enjoy the cat and mouse chase? Has he caught feelings and doesn't know it? Or is it the classic case of investing too much time in what we know is wrong for us because it feels so darn good for the moment?
Great, so now I have to come back in a few days for him to actually do what he is being paid to do. I am tempted to ask more questions about his so-called love life on my next visit. Then again, I might regret that decision if I act on it. Seriously, though, something tells me I won't have to inquire at all. I have a feeling MM is going to update me as soon as I walk in the door...
So, I visit my auto shop I trust to take care of my precious vehicle yesterday. She is over 15 years old, in great shape, looks well, and rides like a dream now. That's my baby. And since I refuse to have a car note for the next few years, I have vowed to care for her as if she is a 2010. I named her Mocha Mama** (name change to protect her privacy & mine) when I copped her almost 10 years ago.
I pull up to the shop parking lot, and I see Maintenance Man (MM) sitting behind his desk through the window. I walk in, share pleasantries, and patiently wait as he completes what seems to be an informal counseling session with a younger male customer. When the fellow exits the office and starts his engine, MM automatically divulges the synopsis of their convo without a word from me. Since forming my working relationship with MM a few months ago to do some major work on my baby, I have come to understand he tries to make "friends" with his customers. He is an older, southern guy who could talk to a tree stump all day long. Born and bred southerners such as myself usually meet people well, and MM is no different.
MM knows why I am here as I spoke with him last week. I called him before I arrived as a reminder. Therefore, there is no need to recap again. Keep in mind I am on my lunch break and am very punctual when it comes to work. Okay, MM I have 40 minutes for you to handle yours so I can be gone. What does MM do? He starts telling me about his women.
Initially, I listen and respond to some of his comments. He is 40 something, never been married, no children, and is almost ready to settle down. Not quite prepared for commitment, but he is headed that way according to him. MM tells me about these women currently on the roster. My Vanilla brother makes it plain that he doesn't enjoy the company of the ladies who share his racial background, but prefers Chocolate ladies. Okay, I can totally see that right now. He likes a challenge and is a bit out of the box. But, MM tends to hook up with mothers and 40 year old grandmothers. He goes for the ladies who just got out of a relationship 2 weeks ago, but doesn't want to be the rebound guy.
*Ouch! Played that position before.*
He loves to take them on weekend trips, but complains when they become too attached in his eyes. MM shows me a pic of a particular sistah who seems to tickle his fancy. He smiles as he talks about how adorable she is. In the next breath he explains how after 3 weeks of dating she started asking him about the future. He claims it was too much for him. But, why is it 5 weeks later and her face is your iPhone screen saver? MM, what is really going on with you, sir? And has anyone pulled my car into the garage yet?
30 minutes pass by, and MM has not done a thing to my car. I have 10 more minutes to get back on the clock at the ship. I really have to get the keys to that spaceship Kanye is gassing up right about now. I wish I had more time to explore what the heck is going on inside his head for the sake of my invisible Detective prefix to my name. Does MM enjoy the cat and mouse chase? Has he caught feelings and doesn't know it? Or is it the classic case of investing too much time in what we know is wrong for us because it feels so darn good for the moment?
Great, so now I have to come back in a few days for him to actually do what he is being paid to do. I am tempted to ask more questions about his so-called love life on my next visit. Then again, I might regret that decision if I act on it. Seriously, though, something tells me I won't have to inquire at all. I have a feeling MM is going to update me as soon as I walk in the door...
Throwback Tuesday - Dru Hill
This song takes me back to 2001. I recall riding around the AAMU campus with my dorm suite mate...playing this tape over and over and over in her ride. We would call this familiar treck from the girls dorms to the guy's side "the daily run." No matter what was going on, we took that ride each evening through the week to converse with the fellows on the other side of the yard. Each time this song came on, time stood still and we would sing our hearts out. The blonde ambition, otherwise known as Sisqo, made Dru Hill one of the best R&B groups of that era....
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Beauty
---by Dru Hill
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FORDMJC2yA&feature=related
Sorry, didn't notice you there
But then again you didn't notice me
So we'll remain passers by
Until the next time we speak
I hope that I can make you mine'
For another man steals your heart
And once this beauty is mine
I swear we will never be apart
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
I'm hoping I can make you mine
'For another man steals your heart
And once this beauty is mine
I swear we will never be apart
It didn't take much time to think about
But I didn't want to move too fast
Cause I knew that when I saw you again
That I wouldn't wanna let you pass
Cause my eyes have seen the glory
In the coming of your smile
So I swear if you ever come 'round again
Please stay for a while
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
I'm hoping I can make you mine
'For another man steals your heart
And once this beauty is mine
I swear that we'll never be apart
You are so beautiful
When I'm down and out
I never seem to get tired
Tired of your love
Cause you are wonderful
You're wonderful
I'm just dying to make you see
Anything you want inside your heart
You can find right here inside of me
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
I'm hoping I can make you mine
'For another man steals your heart
And once this beauty is mine
I swear we will never be apart
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
I'm hoping I can make you mine
'For another man steals your heart
And once this beauty is mine
I swear we will never be apart
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Beauty
---by Dru Hill
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FORDMJC2yA&feature=related
Sorry, didn't notice you there
But then again you didn't notice me
So we'll remain passers by
Until the next time we speak
I hope that I can make you mine'
For another man steals your heart
And once this beauty is mine
I swear we will never be apart
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
I'm hoping I can make you mine
'For another man steals your heart
And once this beauty is mine
I swear we will never be apart
It didn't take much time to think about
But I didn't want to move too fast
Cause I knew that when I saw you again
That I wouldn't wanna let you pass
Cause my eyes have seen the glory
In the coming of your smile
So I swear if you ever come 'round again
Please stay for a while
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
I'm hoping I can make you mine
'For another man steals your heart
And once this beauty is mine
I swear that we'll never be apart
You are so beautiful
When I'm down and out
I never seem to get tired
Tired of your love
Cause you are wonderful
You're wonderful
I'm just dying to make you see
Anything you want inside your heart
You can find right here inside of me
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
I'm hoping I can make you mine
'For another man steals your heart
And once this beauty is mine
I swear we will never be apart
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
I'm hoping I can make you mine
'For another man steals your heart
And once this beauty is mine
I swear we will never be apart
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
Throwback Tuesday- The Gap Band
Uncle Charlie always new how to talk to his lady. He didn't mess around even while he was in the Gap Band...before he traded in the slick back doo for the beaded braids.
This tune always caused me to raise my hands in the air, sway my hips, close my eyes and snap to the old school juke joint feel. The lyrics aren't complex and there is no underlying meaning. This group is simply telling the girl to quit trippen...stop acting like you haven't caught feelings...let's do this and make it official. I wonder if she stayed?
Enjoy peeps....
P.S. Uncle Charlie is 75 years young and cooler than a fan...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yearning for Your Love
--The Gap Band
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iAVvEYzla2Q&feature=related
The time has come for us to stop messin' around
‘Cause don't you know that I like havin' you around
In my life
Oh, baby
So many times I want to hold you, oh, so near
I want to say I love you softly in your ear
Oh, baby
Don't keep running
My heart is yearning for your love
‘Cause my heart is yearning for your love
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
I need to have you as my lover and my wife
Oh, baby
Be my lover
So many times I need to have you by my side
To be my friend, my lover and my guide
Oh, baby
Don't keep runnin'
My heart is yearning for your love
My heart is yearning for your love
My heart is yearning for you
Let me inside your love
Whoa...my heart is yearning for you
Let me inside your love
Your only
(Keep runnin')
(Keep runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
(Keep runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
(Keep on runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
(Keep runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
Oh, girl
(Keep runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
(Keep runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
(Keep on runnin')
Repeat 323x
This tune always caused me to raise my hands in the air, sway my hips, close my eyes and snap to the old school juke joint feel. The lyrics aren't complex and there is no underlying meaning. This group is simply telling the girl to quit trippen...stop acting like you haven't caught feelings...let's do this and make it official. I wonder if she stayed?
Enjoy peeps....
P.S. Uncle Charlie is 75 years young and cooler than a fan...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yearning for Your Love
--The Gap Band
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iAVvEYzla2Q&feature=related
The time has come for us to stop messin' around
‘Cause don't you know that I like havin' you around
In my life
Oh, baby
So many times I want to hold you, oh, so near
I want to say I love you softly in your ear
Oh, baby
Don't keep running
My heart is yearning for your love
‘Cause my heart is yearning for your love
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
I need to have you as my lover and my wife
Oh, baby
Be my lover
So many times I need to have you by my side
To be my friend, my lover and my guide
Oh, baby
Don't keep runnin'
My heart is yearning for your love
My heart is yearning for your love
My heart is yearning for you
Let me inside your love
Whoa...my heart is yearning for you
Let me inside your love
Your only
(Keep runnin')
(Keep runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
(Keep runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
(Keep on runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
(Keep runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
Oh, girl
(Keep runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
(Keep runnin')
You can't keep runnin' in and out of my life
(Keep on runnin')
Repeat 323x
Monday, May 4, 2009
Follow the Leader...finally
This is crazy. I know you will think I am nuts for saying this. I think this is the part of my thoughts that can be categorized into Pros and Cons. This is where I have to debrief before speaking on the randomness of my thoughts. Or are they truly random?
My sis always says don't get too deep, for you just might drown. I tend to analyze a bit on subjects or actions or topics that others see as insignificant. Everyone isn't positioned to see the same view as I. I accepted that a long time ago. However, this little engine of thoughts in the cerebrum is a Pro... You are still reading aren't you?
Okay, so how did I get here? The place where just about anything goes? The place of pride and glee? Yes, glee. I said it. The Utopian place where God and I are in sync. No, I don't like my job...but I have found my place in this universe that will allow me to leave at my own discretion. I am positioning myself. Making those connections in the spirit realm, in the human networking rat race. I understand what I need and how I am to strategically keep certain constants in my space. I recognize those weaknesses and am seeking that spiritual strength to prop me up on those leaning sides. Yes...peace is all around me...even if it doesn't seem like it if I stood naked in front of you...and displayed all 360 degrees of my life. In spite of, peace resides within me.
ATL helps me balance. He pulls from me. He stretches me. He gives to me. He pours in me. Being comfortable with him is an extreme need. More than he is a cool-kind-of-guy-who-I-can- kick-it-with comfortable. The kind of comfortable that removes all fear from others opinions. You know, those opinions you would swear by that ruled your atmosphere at one time...
"Girl, ya'll are moving too fast aren't you?"
"I don't know...he seems too good to be true."
"He said what? I wouldn't take that if I was you."
"Why are you cooking for him? He is not your husband!"
"I wouldn't do all that for him if I was you..."
Humph. I think about that and remember all the faces of the women who blatantly shared their opinions at some point in my younger life...before I knew better. The verbiage spewing from the mouths of lonely, bitter, angry, unhappy, man haters. Why do we listen to these women? Maybe because we used to be them in some shape or form?
Yep, so comfortable. The comfort level that allows all imperfections and insecurities hang out. Okay, maybe not all...but 92% is much more than I ever shared with another. But, with this one...there is 1 word I am searching for.............
Acceptance is the word that comes to mind. The same word Tyler uttered on the MTV show Taking the Stage explaining his torn feeling between his girlfriend and another chick. The other chick accepted him for who he is. Okay, but doesn't the woman in this position who plots on replacing wifey always accept any and everything form her target to make her way in?? I know men think they know us inside and out...but we are Eve's daughters. We didn't mean to be this way...this calculated...it's inherited and must be suppressed if not used for good.
Again, I digress. (Got a gumbo pot full of thoughts tonight...please excuse the rambling). Acceptance. ATL accepts me for me. Yet, he deposits those nuggets to slightly nudge me in the direction he sees me going in. The same direction God is pointing towards. So, I listen. I take action. I appreciate...I truly take the time to appreciate him. Instead of him guessing, I tell him. I show him. I make it plain. He embraces it.
Now I allow him to clasp my hand while we exist amongst the public. Although you may feel this point isn't relevant, it is of importance to me. Buttafly red zones on symbolism and visual- ism. As we travel on foot in the mean streets of the A, into venues, through crowds, along the busy side walks...he takes my hand. It's more than the obvious sign of affection that silently says to onlookers "just the 2 of us...enter at your own risk...don't get your block chopped off." It offers security and a form of commitment. It doesn't allow confusion to those who glanced at one of you and took a second look. The clasp displays a bond. But there is more to it.
When I place my hand in his, I stand in agreement that I will follow him. I agree at that time that I trust him. I submit to his leadership as he keeps my needs and desires in mind through his navigation. Allow your mind to go deeper than the surface on this one. This weekend, he chose a very crowded venue for us to enjoy a festivity. As soon as we exited his vehicle to walk the parking deck headed to our destination, he offered me his guidance as he opened his hand to me. I answered by clasping mine in his. Sure, I was familiar with the area we were entering. But, it wasn't my place to lead at this time. There were moments where we squeezed in areas that only allowed the room for one body to pass at a time. However, I took note that he never let go of his commitment...of my hand. Even if our palms slipped, 2 fingers remained intertwined.
I am well aware some may feel I am looking too far in depth of hand holding. Everyone shows this display of affection when dating. It's not a big deal, right? Actually, it is in my world. If every potential or actual couple joins their palms, does that mean every man is leading the woman? Certainly not. I have allowed others to lead when I full well knew with my intelligent self that the brother wasn't capable...as he didn't even know where he was headed. He wanted to lead, please believe. But, still wasn't capable. This is something I cannot teach, won't teach, won't waste time with the void of this necessity from my other half. But, when you are with a brother with purpose, passion, determination, will and the ability to lead as well as follow, you exhale.
I exhale because my burden is lighter.
I exhale as life's responsibilities will be shared.
I exhale because I'm not lead into darkness.
Sigh........
I exhale because I have a hand to hold during rough patches.
I exhale because I trust the mind and spirit of the leader.
I exhale because I can finally follow the leader.
Sigh........
My sis always says don't get too deep, for you just might drown. I tend to analyze a bit on subjects or actions or topics that others see as insignificant. Everyone isn't positioned to see the same view as I. I accepted that a long time ago. However, this little engine of thoughts in the cerebrum is a Pro... You are still reading aren't you?
Okay, so how did I get here? The place where just about anything goes? The place of pride and glee? Yes, glee. I said it. The Utopian place where God and I are in sync. No, I don't like my job...but I have found my place in this universe that will allow me to leave at my own discretion. I am positioning myself. Making those connections in the spirit realm, in the human networking rat race. I understand what I need and how I am to strategically keep certain constants in my space. I recognize those weaknesses and am seeking that spiritual strength to prop me up on those leaning sides. Yes...peace is all around me...even if it doesn't seem like it if I stood naked in front of you...and displayed all 360 degrees of my life. In spite of, peace resides within me.
ATL helps me balance. He pulls from me. He stretches me. He gives to me. He pours in me. Being comfortable with him is an extreme need. More than he is a cool-kind-of-guy-who-I-can- kick-it-with comfortable. The kind of comfortable that removes all fear from others opinions. You know, those opinions you would swear by that ruled your atmosphere at one time...
"Girl, ya'll are moving too fast aren't you?"
"I don't know...he seems too good to be true."
"He said what? I wouldn't take that if I was you."
"Why are you cooking for him? He is not your husband!"
"I wouldn't do all that for him if I was you..."
Humph. I think about that and remember all the faces of the women who blatantly shared their opinions at some point in my younger life...before I knew better. The verbiage spewing from the mouths of lonely, bitter, angry, unhappy, man haters. Why do we listen to these women? Maybe because we used to be them in some shape or form?
Yep, so comfortable. The comfort level that allows all imperfections and insecurities hang out. Okay, maybe not all...but 92% is much more than I ever shared with another. But, with this one...there is 1 word I am searching for.............
Acceptance is the word that comes to mind. The same word Tyler uttered on the MTV show Taking the Stage explaining his torn feeling between his girlfriend and another chick. The other chick accepted him for who he is. Okay, but doesn't the woman in this position who plots on replacing wifey always accept any and everything form her target to make her way in?? I know men think they know us inside and out...but we are Eve's daughters. We didn't mean to be this way...this calculated...it's inherited and must be suppressed if not used for good.
Again, I digress. (Got a gumbo pot full of thoughts tonight...please excuse the rambling). Acceptance. ATL accepts me for me. Yet, he deposits those nuggets to slightly nudge me in the direction he sees me going in. The same direction God is pointing towards. So, I listen. I take action. I appreciate...I truly take the time to appreciate him. Instead of him guessing, I tell him. I show him. I make it plain. He embraces it.
Now I allow him to clasp my hand while we exist amongst the public. Although you may feel this point isn't relevant, it is of importance to me. Buttafly red zones on symbolism and visual- ism. As we travel on foot in the mean streets of the A, into venues, through crowds, along the busy side walks...he takes my hand. It's more than the obvious sign of affection that silently says to onlookers "just the 2 of us...enter at your own risk...don't get your block chopped off." It offers security and a form of commitment. It doesn't allow confusion to those who glanced at one of you and took a second look. The clasp displays a bond. But there is more to it.
When I place my hand in his, I stand in agreement that I will follow him. I agree at that time that I trust him. I submit to his leadership as he keeps my needs and desires in mind through his navigation. Allow your mind to go deeper than the surface on this one. This weekend, he chose a very crowded venue for us to enjoy a festivity. As soon as we exited his vehicle to walk the parking deck headed to our destination, he offered me his guidance as he opened his hand to me. I answered by clasping mine in his. Sure, I was familiar with the area we were entering. But, it wasn't my place to lead at this time. There were moments where we squeezed in areas that only allowed the room for one body to pass at a time. However, I took note that he never let go of his commitment...of my hand. Even if our palms slipped, 2 fingers remained intertwined.
I am well aware some may feel I am looking too far in depth of hand holding. Everyone shows this display of affection when dating. It's not a big deal, right? Actually, it is in my world. If every potential or actual couple joins their palms, does that mean every man is leading the woman? Certainly not. I have allowed others to lead when I full well knew with my intelligent self that the brother wasn't capable...as he didn't even know where he was headed. He wanted to lead, please believe. But, still wasn't capable. This is something I cannot teach, won't teach, won't waste time with the void of this necessity from my other half. But, when you are with a brother with purpose, passion, determination, will and the ability to lead as well as follow, you exhale.
I exhale because my burden is lighter.
I exhale as life's responsibilities will be shared.
I exhale because I'm not lead into darkness.
Sigh........
I exhale because I have a hand to hold during rough patches.
I exhale because I trust the mind and spirit of the leader.
I exhale because I can finally follow the leader.
Sigh........
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