Thursday, August 16, 2007

Baseball Season In The Hood

This blog was inspired by The Bizarre JC Martin ----) Click here for her blog "Summertime Fun"

Life Lessons Realized

Baseball season meant the WORLD to me! My dad would bring out the old cleats; dusting and polishing them off like we did the mantle full of trophies he'd won playing the sport. Lacing them up carefully to make sure they still 'fit'. I don't remember exactly what he would say, but it was always funny. Although his serious, quiet statuesque demeanor would make you believe otherwise, he was really a gentle giant; until crossed.

After the cleats were finished, he'd send me or my brother to get his bat. I use to loathe searching for that bat. The search itself was fine but carrying it to him was my issue. I'd always complain about how 'ghetto' he was because he had drilled a hole into the handle of the bat, filled it with water and corked it. My thoughts were, 'we are always nigga-riggin' sh**'. None the less, when I found the bat, he'd begin his annual ritual of cleansing it too.

The cleats, the bat, and we are half way there. This is when I would start to get excited. The only thing left was to launder his uniform. Yes, the uniform that made my dad look like a 'real' athlete! I loved the way my father's smile warmed my heart while in his uniform. This seemed like the only time he smiled so wide and so full of excitement. I had grown to love seeing him that gleeful. My mom would reset some of the buttons, around his ever-growing belly, and make sure he had his calf-high socks to hide the fact that he had actually gained a few inches in height as well. Whomever said people shrink as they get older was a liar, or it could have been the socks had shrunk.....

Mommy would make sure we had a cooler for the adults and a cooler for the kids. No sense in buying pop and chips from the vendor at Thurgood Marshall when we could just bring our own, right? Right....

I watched my father run around the bases until one year he utilized a sub. My daddy would hit the ball and the sub, a guy quite a few years younger, would run the bases because his knees had gotten bad. It bothered me so much not to see MY daddy running those bases. Those runs gave me all the reason in the world to give my daddy another hug, another kiss. Those runs are what had my mother, who was a home maker, scrubbing his uniforms after each game. Without those runs, what was the point?

It wasn't until years later that I understood the point...

It wasn't about cleats. It wasn't about water-filled bats, uniforms, and coolers. It was about fellowshipping; camaraderie and mixing it with good ole fun. It was about making lasting friendships and enjoying family time. My childhood experiences there prepared me to understand that things change and we need to change with them. To understand that though the method changes, you can still attain desirable outcomes. The basic things we need when life deals us bad hands. The things people don't seem to have time for or can understand these days.

From the age of six until 16, I spent the majority of my time on baseball diamonds, in most of the cities in Ohio. In what I thought was following my dad, the baseball star, was really teaching me things that I wouldn't understand until now.

Last week, my husband announced that he would be joining a baseball team this season and I almost cried...

The baseball field wasn't the only place I learned lessons......more to come

Stay peace


Thursday, August 9, 2007



I stand with iron fist
pumping in air


tears of despair
trickle down cheeks of innocent children


what about the hunger of their minds,
attempting to understand?
almost blind and guilty by
being born


immune to nothing
they stand with shallow breaths
confused and misguided
or unguided
as we
strive and stride
without them



place guns in children’s hands
so they can defend themselves


we are so preoccupied with those
we think are spying on us
lying on us
mistrusting ourselves
digging our own
sleeper holes


selfishness taking over the wheel
leaving tire tracks on the children's back


they fight a losing battle
from the first wail they produce
from their mother's womb

crying, wailing, crying

hungering and thirsting
for the path
which WE have not laid




for the children will not

©3.2.07 Genesis

All rights reserved

*May not be duplicated, in any form, without the expressed, written consent of the author

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

We've Got To Do Better: Hot Ghetto Mess....hmmm

We did it again!

We, or rather BET, has found another way to perpetuate the media's take on ridiculousness! Even though Hot Ghetto Mess claims to lie under the pretenses of the slogan 'We've got to do better', it still serves as a vehicle to air and make fun of the less than desired folk; US.

Charlie Murphy (Eddie's brother)

It's just hard for me to accept that this show is actually an attempt to encourage people on how NOT to act. I find it purely entertaining. It's not family friendly, at all (unless you call seeing a crack head say 'I suck a little di** and smoke a little crack, family oriented). They mostly portray THE African American. I mean, really, they should have just coined a minstrel show!

The shows idea hails from the website where patrons of the site are asked to submit 'wild and crazy' videos/pictures. Now who, in their right mind....aww forget it.

My issue with the show is that I want them to be real. This isn't to discourage 'ghetto' behavior. It's a show meant to highlight some dumb shit people have done! So STOP badgering me over the head with 'WE'VE GOT TO DO BETTER' and make me laugh damnit!

The Storms of Our Lives (Cleveland Wake Up!)

Yesterday, I laid in my bed listening to the clap and clamor of the thunderstorm that was getting more serious by the minute. I checked the clock to see that it was 7:30 a.m. At 7:35 a.m., thunder shook my house and one by one, the kids started trickling to my bed.

Mmm.... I thought. This is going to be my CHANCE to sleep in! Get real...

Between the loudness of the storm and disturbed whining from my children, ALL hell was about to break loose. I turned the television to some idiotic kids station so that my children can be lulled by them only to have the damn power shut off temporarily, courtesy a la storm.

So I drag myself and my two youngest out of MY bed and head downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast....cereal that is......

My life is great hunh! You bet your ass it is!

I'm lucky my kids love me the way they do. I'm lucky that they feel SAFE around me and seek me for that safety. Life outside of my house, this morning, wasn't so nice and they found comfort in mommy's about that!

All the while, I find out that there is a shortage of powder cocaine here, in Cleveland, Ohio! Well whoop-d-damn-doo! What about the other stuff that's in abundance? In a few articles I read, it appeared that someone wanted kudos for this feat. NOT! That's your damn job. Just as it is my job to ensure my children are healthy and safe.

Someone is missing the mark. We have too many crack heads strolling the streets, feigning. We have too many talented people who are unemployed. We have too many teachers who don't like their jobs. We have a SMOKING BAN! Something is VERY wrong with the whole city's sewer system, just look at this mess....

Yes, that's flooding! Cleveland flooded yesterday, as I held my scared children in my arms. Freeways were closed down and about 35 people had to be rescued from their cars....... See what happens when the city doesn't do work on it's streets. One particular brook (Doan, I believe) was suppose to have work done on it to prevent flooding, but it never got completed. The project ran over budget and they said 'Aww, to hell with it'. Even though one of our seasons is construction season! Yes we have winter, spring, summer, fall, and construction....

Cleveland needs to wake up! Our downtown is pretty but ridiculously expensive. The new bowling alley charges $35 an hour on weekends to bowl. The clubs have nothing but lingering thugs running around and half dressed chicken heads shaking their butts. The crime rate is soaring. Hell, even my house was robbed last year AND I know ALL the thugs! Loyalty is dead....

Well enough of my morning rants! I'm off to make breakfast, yes cereal, for my little ones.

I hear there will be another storm today.....

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

How Dare You Ask To Check My Credit.....

How dare you ask to check my credit!

This is what goes through my mind every time I'm asked to 'sign-on-the-dotted-line" by a potential employer. I understand the mechanics of the entire situation but it still doesn't really make sense to me....

Employers want to check your credit so they can be sure your salary will cover your debt....
--I'm just so sure they are looking out for my best interest.

Employers want to judge your character by your ability to manage your debt.....
--AHA Houston, we have touch down! This is probably the closest to the truth we will get..

I don't understand how ANYONE can judge someone's character by snooping through a credit report. Just because I manage money badly, doesn't mean I don't have good character! Just because I couldn't get that bill paid, from five years ago, doesn't mean I'm not a hard worker. It doesn't mean I'm not trustworthy and deserving of a position in someone's company. It simply means that I'm NOT GOOD WITH MONEY thus MY NEED FOR THE JOB.

Not to mention, there are consequences for too many inquiries for one's credit report.

Don't get me wrong, I can see this practice as practical in some fields of work. Anything financially related, I would agree to employers wanting to see how their potential employee manages money. But, for the life of me, I can't see why any other business would need to.

Stick to the damn background checks and let's call it a day!

Wednesdays & Fridays Blog