I Need the Game

When I began this blog, I envisioned it as a place where my spirit could breath and my mind could be free. I just knew it would be a great place for me to hone my writing skills and communicate with my core group of family and friends as well as the masses. I believe in some ways I succeeded, but feel as though I failed also. It has forced me to look DEEP (think James Earl Jones when you read) within.

As failure is often in the beholders eye, for the sake of not coming down on myself too hard, I will deem these self-perceptions as missteps. 2008 was a hell of a drug. The "F" your couch type. I was the couch and D.ave C.happelle's feet represented almighty life itself.

I do realize that I wasn't alone, but I am only speaking for self right now when I say, thank God for times past! I received a comeuppance of sorts in '08, especially towards the end. When they say, "you don't miss the water 'til your well runs dry", I believe they forgot to address it directly toward me. Suffice to say, I made it through and my gratitude overflows to those who helped me mentally, spiritually and financially; I definitely have some angelic and loving people amongst my intimates right now. But, its time for me to get back on the right track, back on the "right side of life" as I like to say (smiles to mom, The Lady).

Yes, I have a "good payin' job" (sarcasm). But, I miss the those things that I'd been living to do, the "do what you love and the money will follow" types of moves. Those closest to me understand where my passions lie. While I've always felt that the game needs me, I now completely understand, that I also need the game. Without it, I am not motivated, I feel dejected at times, out of sorts with myself and my surroundings and just downright powerless. Granted, the game wore me down at times, broke my spirit, but looking back, it wasn't so bad and had I truly focused and adjusted my plan as needed.......BINGO!

I try not to cry over spilled soy milk, so I'm taking these lessons and preparing to apply them once again to my game, THE game.

I've been pondering the idea of one doing what one loves, for a few weeks now. I've asked friends, like my boys at B2G Sports, as well as complete strangers, if they are doing what they love and would they have it any other way. The answers have come with a resounding yes from most, and I use that as wind beneath my wings, because seeing is believing and I have great examples and I know its true. I've also been reading the blogs of others, like , twentyeight30, Dallas Penn and my man FreeMan Press, who is enlightening in a very in your face kind of way. Check him out, he is not playing in these streets!

Today, I read a quote that said something to the effect of, "if you are not doing what you love, you are wasting your time." So, I remind myself constantly, that is the reinforcement I must give myself. I gotta get back to all that I know and love, and that includes my sports, my literature (I'm gunnin' for the latest J. California Cooper book), my gardening and especially my writing.

I hope you come back with me, because if you missed me a little, I missed you tenfold!

The Maven

Me

There are times when I "check out". My girls understand. They laugh at me and say I'm on some "Maven" shit. They joke about me being somewhere meditating and burning incense, writing poetry and crying behind some love song.

They don't lie.

I get lost in myself sometimes. I relish it. Call it onlychildism. Call it Capricornism. Call it life.

I'm in my late thirties. By this time, I think we expect to have it all figured out, right? However, the wisdom of the elders reminds us that our learning has probably just begun, and actually never stops.

I watched this clip of E Badu singing "Me" and I love this song, it's comforting and affirming. See for yourself.......



Damn, that chick is soulful! My girl Stella and I always dub Erykah as the baddest. I admire her, because she lets it all hang out, her strengths and her flaws. She'll snatch her damn wig off at any given moment. I love it!

Anyway, I realize that I like who I'm becoming. It has been and will continue to be a journey of good days and bad, but beautiful none the less.

I give of myself, and perhaps too much sometimes. I've been known to love with reckless abandon, but too many broken hearts have curtailed that a bit. I'm cautious now.

I want to be solid in my professional life, in my finances, in my relationships with those I love.

I was talking to my girl, Mama So Fine, yesterday (I gave her that nickname years ago when she was pregnant because she was the flyest mother-to-be I'd ever seen). Over the years, she and I have come up with some of the craziest business ideas, and every now and then we rehash them and recycle them into something else, laughing all the while about how none of them have truly come to fruition. I asked her to promise with me, that we shall have no more regrets when it comes to our business lives. This includes stepping up our networking, socializing, and follow-up. We have agreed to be accountability partners. Basically, I've given her "no holds" permission to call me on my b.s. and I couldn't be happier.

This no regrets concept must be applied in all aspects of my life, though. Having no regrets, to me, means laying it on the line and making decisions that are in your best interest. If you hate it or love it, say it! If it can further your growth, do it. If it can harm you or get in your way, cut it loose. If its something that is good for you or to you, roll with it. If you can help someone else in need, by all means, pass it on.

I wake up and pray to be someone better than I was the day before.

I am ME, who are you?

Will The Real Ruckus Please Stand Up

Ahem....Ahem.....Calling all Drop Squad members!!!!!

The Squirrel below has officially lost his mind!



He is frightenly similar to my truly favorite, animated embodiment of pure, blissful ignorance.......The Boondocks very own, Uncle Ruckus.....



Swing low, sweet chariot.........

Hungarian Goulash

Today, an elderly man, a self-proclaimed "Hungarian Jew", dressed in head-to-toe L.A. Laker gear, the largest headphones I've ever seen, and toting two testy Pomeranians, stopped me in front of the Post Office to discuss politics. **Crickets**

As one who has a very soft spot for senior citizens, I reluctantly engaged in this unsolicited conversation. He began by asking me my thoughts on Gerri Ferraro's comments about Senator Obama's perceived racial advantage. He seemed to want me to be as outraged as he portrayed himself to be. In no uncertain terms, he felt Ms. Ferraro was wrong in her assessment. I simply told him that I believe she spoke from her own insecurities about gender and power, at which he nodded, and then commented on how insightful I was. He then goes on to tell me how unlike most folks like him, he understands "the black experience", having family members who were victims of Nazi Germany, and having once lived on 35Th and "Shaw" when he was a car salesman. I asked him to clarify "Shaw" for me, at which time I learned that he was speaking of Crenshaw Boulevard, "you know, the HOOD." Deep sigh. More **Crickets**

He then jumps to the subject of Michelle Obama, and gets a little boiled over her comments about her first time being proud of the country, yada yada, yada. He goes on about how she has benefited from Affirmative Action and how she, herself, supposedly admitted to having been an average student (I don't know anything about this) and that she was able to obtain an Ivy League education because of Affirmative Action, and he had a 4.0 GPA and didn't get "ushered" in like her, so how dare she yada, yada, yada.

He also pointed out how much money she and Barack were making, which to me had no place in our, I mean , HIS conversation. I finally told him, that Michelle's comments, while perhaps not properly delivered, were very relevant, and I understood EXACTLY what she meant. He wanted to know how I could agree when she has benefited so greatly in this country. So........I informed him that he never has, nor ever will live her American life, and that I, being closer to her in age than he was (obviously), equal to her in gender, similar to her in the "black womanhood experience", AND the South Side of Chicago experience, could better identify with her statement. Again he expressed his delight in my insight, then told me I was a smart girl. Surprise! I politely excused myself, told him to (kick rocks) have a nice day and continued on about my business.

Everything happens for a reason. Respect your elders.

The Tale of "Just Met You"

Sooooooo......one evening, my LA road dawg Dan Belle, and I, we decided to indulge in a night out. There are treats in those streets, so we gussied up and got on the good foot.

We began at one of our fave spots for gluttony, El Cholo. Here, we met up with some former colleagues. Good times ensued and the Rita's were flowing, and the chips and salsa was delicious, and......well you get the point, we were grubbin'! Anywaaaaayyy, amongst the other folks was a young lady that Dan Belle and I did not know. She was a friend of our friends,friend. Dig me?

After a bit of open ended conversation, and more drank, she began to warm up to all, subsequently "fitting in" with the flow. Now Dan Belle and I have great stories and some are appropriate for sharing, and some we embellish, and some we definitely keep under lock and key. Needless to say that the table was full of laughter, and nostalgia filled the air. Our former life tends to be very intriguing to strangers (no we were not involved in any felonious activity or anything that would shame our mamas).

Wellllll, dinner came and went and D and I decided that it was time to hat up and move on to the next spot. We said our good-byes, but in the process, we got the feeling that this random broad wanted to roll (must have been the stories). What the heck, I thought, she's a cute girl, she might come in handy at the bar. Besides, the more the merrier. Guys like it when we travel in packs. Soooooo, she ditched the dude she came to meet, and bounced with D and I. She even rode in the car with us (this should have been our first clue).

Our next stop was to meet some old friends. So we arrive at Spot No. 2, introductions are made, and everyone seems to be having a great time. Suddenly, my boys are asking D and I about homegirl. The questions range from, "what does she do?", to "how long have you all been friends"? Quietly and strangely, we both had to answer that we didn't really know broad, and she was with us at the previous spot with a previous cat, and she wanted to roll, so we said "sure!" That is when she went from her government name, to "Just Met You", and for the rest of the evening, she lived up to it, famously. She set her sights on one of my boys, and the side show began. Now, I must hand it to her, she wasn't a punk. She saw something she liked and she committed to the game, in spite of the fact that she knew NOT ONE of us a few hours before. We had a round of drinks, and decided to head somewhere else.

Our next, and ultimately final stop, was a club. We chose this particular spot, because as we were driving down the street, "Just Met You" said "STOP", "I know the bouncers here, let me see what's up", so the caravan pulled over, and D and I watched as "Just Met You" worked her mojo. Next thing I know, she signals for us to valet and we are walking in. I think to myself, "okay, 'Just Met You', I see ya"! Please bear in mind that The Maven is no longer a club banger. Once upon a time, I would shut a damn club DOWN, but I am a cougar in training now, so I'll leave that loud music and jumping around to the kittens.

Side note: Anyone who saw me in action at Lady M's wedding should ignore that last statement.

Continuing on......we all converge on the bar and get a lil something, and stand around to soak in the vibe. The vibe was actually very cool. The music was on point, so much so, I got the DJ's card for future reference. We are all having fun, seeing old faces, and meeting new ones. "Just Met You" is still smelling my boy, but also making her rounds in the club. Obviously, she is seasoned. D and I catch a glimpse of her canoodling off to the side with someone familiar, or NOT. With this chick, who knows? HaHA!

Finally, the night comes to an end, mainly because LA is corny like that and shuts down early, akin to when your elders came in your room and shut the lights off, regardless of what you were doing, and told you to take that arse to bed.

The crowd filled the streets and as we waited for the cars, everyone said their good-byes, good nights, and good-to-see ya's. The ride finally came and D and I jumped in, but "Just Met You' was off closing her deals. She finally got in the back seat, and we made a bee line to her car for the drop off. At some point, D and I realized that she was backseat mackin' on her phone to one of our boys, and we gave each other the side eye. Broad works fast. No hate.

So, we got her to her ride, shared a few empty thoughts, and she was gone. Just like that, "Just Met You" came and went. She had a great night, had great food, great conversation, met some great guys, and all this with two broads she didn't know from Eve. Go figure.

The moral of this story is, you can take a horse to the water, but don't be mad if she's thirsty and drinks it all!

Holla!

-The Maven