Aint No Future in your frontin...

This one goes out to all you folks out in bloggerland who are holdin' on to fake identities and secret lifestyles. A poem I like to call: No Future in the Front

On the front door ain't no knobs, or door knockers. Just a plain door without the frills.
Of course one can easily see the mystery right away. Don't play, just be real. Knock on the door, and you'll see it is hollow., can't you follow? one swift kick and it will cave in. Can't hold the heat and cold drafts blow in. Keep it real, be who you are, cuz one day the secret becomes a scar. Keep on Frontin and the world will know you as a liar.

The front door is the portal to your fort. The dynamic entry to all sorts of reality. Do you really want to continue this fantasy? Aint no Future in your Frontin. Keep it movin Dog. Do you like kissing the princess who is really a frog. Mistaking Droopy for Deptuty dog. Callin Fat Bastard a heart throb, Be a snob like paris da dishwasher blond bomb shell with secrets as well...oh swell, what you thought we couldn't tell. Might as well keep it real. Here's the deal. On the low, pick out yo fro...and hold his hand. Be the man. Not the clam, deep in the shell. It is better for us sharks in the sea. I like to know the difference from you and me...perhaps then we can better understand, the master plan...but until then aint no future in your frontin.

I aint hatin on the way you roll, just displayin how the game got you controlled. Afraid to be who you really are, diverse and all, at the club you scream "yes, yes, y'all" but at home you say "hell naw!" pick and roll aint a basketball play it is the safe way to play. Back and forth only works in the swimming pool and with airline tickets. Lemony Snicket or Snickers. Grab your knickers and keeps it real.

Dedicated to all the women living with AIDS - contracted from a Down Low Demon.

En Peace!

Brotherly Love

While I sit here and type up this email, you have to understand a bit of background. I am importing close to 25 CDs from my Brother Carl by way of my Brother Craig. Huh? you may ask...well just understand...I got a serious hookup. Over the years I have been blessed with a number of friends who enjoy music. My Stepfather, Dynamite Disco Downstairs DJ was the first, He used to jam out to the R&B classics on Friday nights and the whole house would be boppin to Marvin, Elton and Stevie...James too...But, then came the R&B explosion..My next door neighbor, Johnny...man he had a record collection out of this world...Shouts out to the smith family. My Father, wasn't too shy on his collection but he would just attend parties and oddly enough he hipped me to the Hip Hop scene back in the late 70's. "Ray you might want to listen to this station 107.5 WBLS on Saturday nights..." from that point it was on...My uncle Thomas had a collection of records that spanned back into the early 1950's. His son Ricardo began a music career and now is an internationally known dj.

This past weekend, I had a wonderful weekend with my family. We didn't have a family dinner which is rare, but at this point the Graduation party was enough...was it ever...I had a blast meeting my brothers friends and I also had plenty of "drank". But, beyond the libatious weekend...I just enjoyed my family. I remember at one point my brother Craig said: You aren't socializing... and I had to reply, well, I haven't seen some of these people in months...We both understood and time moved on.

But as the days sprinted by I realized that I didn't spend that much time with Carl or Craig. Both were individually busy and after I knew it, I was on the road headed south. The love of music and the occasional "What's up Man" phone calls make my day. So, without fail I say that I miss them, and wish we had more time together...The music keeps us connected and I am glad that they have the ear.

en peace

ambiguous interpretations of obscure vision...

Mindless Chatter...

Why do women assume and men accuse? Who are you to judge my style, my dress and assume who I am. What is up with stereotypical religous folks. Judgemental Icons such as pastors and self-appointed bishops become finger pointing babies who demand justice in the eyes of the Lord. However, their flock become self-appointed idol worshipers. True indeed they worship the Biblical passages. Idol #1. and often they will worship the ground the pastor walks on...Idol #2. They will format a ritual of offering, tithing and building funds, yet fail to help out the common man when they can. Money would be the Idol in this case. Hmmm, I wonder if we lost the ability to transfer cash and checks, would the offering plate have a swipe machine for debit/credit cards?

Who cares....
Baseball has started, and I just zip right on by. Who cares about baseball. Why are most of the baseball players hispanic or caucasian? What's the deal with the long pants in the summer? What do you do at a baseball game...sit, clap, and wait. boring. But then again...who really cares.

The new Pope...
The new pope was picked today. I watched the announcement today. He's German. I thought that an African Pope would have done the world some justice. What if Minister Louis was announced as pope. The world would stand still, wars would stop. And you could get a bean pie at every street...in the Vatican City.

The weather is quite...
Still. Dull, Scattered Shwers in the North...Sunny and Hot Down south. I hate this place. Full of so many personality conflicts. This place is a baby making center. Argh...I better go.No good

"damn it feels good to see people up on it!"

The Biz couldn't have said it better. It does feel good to be recognized as a thinker, a contributor and in some cases an important person. People up on it? some may inquire, how does a person get "all up on" another. Simple. Take for instance the scenario that took place this afternoon. I was leaving a meeting on the 6th floor, which is the largest meeting room in the company, and as I exited the room, I recognized "employee Rose". Of course, I am not the type to have an uncomfortable greeting, so I stick to an informal "What's up Man, or how ya doin." depending on their cool factor of course. "Employe Rose" responds..."Hi Ray!". He almost got me with an uppercut. You know I had to play it off. I just smiled and commented on his attire, to change the subject. I knew his name also, but I was surprised that he used my name in our greeting. Ok, so perhaps this is a miniscule matter in the office world...but to me it is a big deal. Employee Rose works for the man, sitting next to the man. That is it. There really aren't to many strings. So to be recognized by the man...well that is a feat in itself. So pardon me for tootin' my own cowbell. Cause this brotha from D loves to see people up on it.

Back in the days of New Jersey the fellas used to call me Money. Not because of my jumpshot, not because of my attire, but because I acted as if I had Cash. My swagger, my ability to chit chat with the opposite race, using jargan and slang equally, depending on the group and situation. It was perfect. But slowly as time moved on...I saw myself gravitating to the Hip-Hop genere. I became a regular user of the infamous "know what I'm sayin' phrase. While in college, I grew into a self-absorbed ego with a campus reputation as "the Man!" Hell yeah, I know, this is a bit boastful...but hang on. Shortly after my graduation...I was on cloud nine. A new job, a new life, and hey I didn't have to stress life...I had two suits, a blazer and a fresh set of clothes. I beat out a frat brother, and a few others for a Sales job in Battle Creek, Michigan. But my swagger didn't float there. I became depressed. My life was taking a downward spiral. I lost my confidence, ran back to MSU to hide and didn't poke my head out until late 1995. I dipped my toe in the water everywhere I went. I explored little territories...and became a cave dweller. I had to break out. 4 years later I found myself at my current job. Successful and hoping I passed the drug test. Since then...I have worked at regaining that swagger. Of course I have it as a crutch...but not deep down inside. Why? Because, I don't see people up on it. Until recently. Strange that a brotha has to cut off his locks of personality in order to achieve. Or perhaps I just identified with a blessing and followed the right path. I wonder how Jesus felt when, he went from People up on it, to people all on him. Similar circumstances...I guess we all must go through a bit of a crusificition in order to really understand our worth. Life is what you make it. Not really about what others think. I realize this now...but damn, it still feels good to see people up on it. Praise God and his many blessings.

En peace.