Now Playing: Caural - "She's Everywhere I Look"
in a world that will go to great lengths to beat the living Christ out of me, it's vital that i continue to stay focused and remember what's really important. yesterday was a rare day, my wife and i sharing some quiet time together that pretty much lasted all day. a day to detox - that almost never happens as of late. the phone hardly rang. the only thing that mattered was being together with each other. with our sixth wedding anniversary soon approaching, yesterday made for a wonderful oasis, even though we stayed at home.
the night prior was a special event at 3rd Party Fridays featuring The Last Poets. it was my first time seeing them live. it was a powerful experience, the kind that shakes you out of your everyday doldrums and reminds you why it's so important to continue to fight for what's right and to speak out against the injustices of the world. so often i feel that my life is filled with enough drama in and of itself that i don't have the time or the energy to deal with whatever the news is handing me that night. but i must continue to read between the headlines, no matter how fatigued my eyes and my mind might be. a minimal setup including voices and congas, Umar Bin Hassan, Abiodun Oyewole, and Don Babatunde came with it, just like i knew they would. midway through their set, they performed a piece explaining how "america's a terrorist," which supposedly scared the hell outta Russell Simmons when they performed it on Def Poetry Jam (don't bother searching for the footage, i'm pretty sure it didn't make HBO). brother Oyewole gave love to the founding members of the group, and it really hit me when he mentioned Jalal Nuriddin, how his mind gave life to words that sound like the hip-hop ciphers of today (pretty deep when you consider that Nuriddin got into a serious confrontation over the name The Last Poets with Oyewole and Hassan, one which became physical with almost deadly results for Hassan). Oyewole used Nuriddin as an example of one who didn't learn from what he wrote, and shared with the audience to "go back over what you've written and learn from it." that stuck with me all weekend. i know that there are poems and blog entries that i need to go back to...and learn from them.
to escape the monotony and negativity of the work day, even if only for a hour, i head outside during my lunch break. i'm not sure what i'll do come winter, but i'll cross that bridge when i get to it. i spotted the latest edition of Fortune Magazine, featuring the stories of black men that beat the odds of succeeding in corporate america during the 1950s and '60s. i'm talkin' about cats who traveled a lot and had to be tipped off to black folks' houses in which to stay, because the signs on most hotels read: NO NEGROES. NO JEWS. NO DOGS. i'm talkin' about brothers getting interviewed by internal media companies only to hear the question: "so, how does it feel to be the head nigger in charge at company so and so?" cats that were put into those situations and wanted to snap necks, but knew they couldn't because they knew the whole world was waiting for them to lose it, counting on them to f**k up, so they kept their cool...because they knew they had to make it better for the black faces that came after them. i'm talkin' about brothers who fought for the title of vice president and their white counterparts raised hell at the idea of making less than a black man, so brother man received two checks: one at the office that was less than his pale-faced partners and another at home to make up the difference. all this to ease tensions in the workplace. these stories are real. and there still aren't that many of us in the positions of senior VP or CEO today. these are the people who make it possible for my black ass to sit at my job and complain about what i'm doing. granted, what i'm doing is bulls**t, but my situation could be a whole lot worse.
on the lighter side of life, two weeks ago my wife and i met up with her sister and brother-in-law. they took their daughter and a friend of hers to Rye Playland for the day. playing the roles of the adventurous aunt and uncle, we tagged along, rode the rides and stuff. it was fun watching them do the whole thrill-seeking thing, regretting it in the middle of the ride, but surviving it anyway. at the same time, i was watching little kids describe rides to their parents or guardians, all wide-eyed with big gestures, making sound effects and stuff. that's when i knew. there wasn't any question in my mind anymore.
i want children. i want to be a father. i had thought about it before. beth and i have been talking about starting a family. i had always looked at little kids and thought...a dad? me? yep, me. regardless of what idiocy this world continues to throw my way, regardless of the fact that it continually does its best to beat the living Christ out of me, despite any reluctance i have about bringing a child into a world as ugly as this, it doesn't mean that i don't want to try. particularly if it means i can forget about myself for the good of someone else.
who better than my child?