Scratchin’ and Survivin’ Part II (excerpt)

….When I was growing up, Aunt Retha tried to keep me out of the pool halls. I guess hustlin’ was in my blood though. Daddy would come over to Retha’s every once in a while and give her money when he remembered. Sometimes we’d go places together.

The only places he really knew were the “shooting galleries”, Smiley’s and the pool room down by 18th and Vine. He wanted to be a good Daddy, so because it was usually the middle of the day, he took me to the poolroom instead of the bar. He never took me to the shooting gallery. The pool room is where he taught me how to hustle.

“Chalk up too much and a nigga’ll think you ain’t sure about your shot.”
“Remember Jo-Jo, jus’ ‘cus a motherfucker’s drunk, don’t mean he can’t still shoot.”
“Boy don’t be one of them nigga’s scared to scratch on the eight ball.”
“Scared money can’t make no money.”

That was my Daddy’s advice growing up. It wasn’t no Ward Cleaver shit, but it helped me through some serious situations over the years. If you understand the code of the pool hall and how to work that table, there really ain’t shit else in this world you need to know.

Daddy taught me that sometimes you gotta shoot hard, sometimes you gotta shoot soft and sometimes you gotta put some “English” on yo’ shit. Most importantly, he taught me that if you always scared of missing the shot, you ain’t got no chance to win.

Taking chances was how he got the name “Scratch”. Joe Willie would take the most dangerous shots any nigga ever attempted. He never worried about scratchin’, balls flyin’ off the table, jumpin’ over balls or nothin’. When he was clean, it was some beautiful shit to see. When he was strung out, his ass looked ridiculous.

One time he jumped the cue ball off the table and broke out this big time dope dealer old lady’s front teeth. He had to leave town over that shit for a minute. Eventually that nigga Tut squared shit with the motherfucker so he could come back home.

Tut put this little underground tournament together. He was trying to make a big name for himself. He had the best players comin’ in from all over the country. Frisco, Memphis, Milwaukee, Buffalo, you name it. It cost twenty-five large to get in. Then you could take all the side bets, after hours action and hustlin’ locals you could handle.

The big payoff was $100Gs. If Pop wins he’ll be off the hook for almost everything he owes Tut out of his half. If he loses he’s gotta turn all kinds of tricks for Tut until they’re square biz. That’ll take him the rest of his life.

I hear the old man’s got a good chance though. I haven’t seen him play since I moved to Detroit a few years ago. The grapevine says he’s been off that “Boy” for a minute now and his hands don’t shake no mo’.

They say he was so strung out a while back that he was snortin’ “T’s and B’s” and livin’ in the back of Smiley’s. Then he met some church goin’ lady a couple years ago who put him up in her attic ‘til he kicked “King Heroin” cold turkey. When he’s clean he can beat anybody on the planet. Everybody came to win this motherfucker though.

I’ve been around the country with this pool cue. I’ve whipped just about all of these cats ass before. A couple I’ve never seen. The rest can’t be no better than the best though and I’ve beaten the best. Make no mistake about it, I came here to win. If Scratch ends up being the nigga whose ass I had to whip to get that money then so be it….

All Souls

I have no fear of joining the great gathering, that great gathering of all souls

To join the spirits of the quickened and felled, both those of the young and the old

For the reaper is a callous dealer and is no respecter of high station or place

Fame nor fortune buys his mercy and will not stave off his relentless chase

A King of peace can be viciously murdered; a small-town boy can be mercilessly lynched

A dose of medicine can be doubled and your fate shall be irreversibly cinched

An ill fate abides for the preachers of love, as well for the prophets of pain

Be assured that idolaters shall be randomly spared, while the innocents shall be needlessly slain

Should you doubt his random nature, observe the body of the poisoned priest

While the reaper spares the life of the child, bearing the prophesied mark of the beast

From out of the earth arise the tortured corpses, from the blood drenched killing fields

While obfuscators and confidence men continue to tantalize and cut their crooked deals

The dutiful nun in the cloister prays in vain and dies with her doubts unrequited

Yet outside of the order the whores scarlet lecheries keep lust’s fiery flames ignited

Your tears upon their graves are a puzzlement; fore your fate may prove to be far worse

The dead have made their final reckoning and they know that sweet death is no curse

For most their release from this realm is a comfort, the certitude of death brings them peace

Still some tortured souls who knew not virtue, still long for worldly gains and increase

While those who perished in service, live on through golden deeds and true love

Fore their illuminated souls have ascended the heights and fill evils void from above

Marcus and Joan (excerpt)

....For almost 600 years, Joan of Arc's story has stood as a testament to the power of faith, hope, strength and courage. The historical accounts of her story are all well documented and most have been proven true. One thing that is still a mystery is whether her visions came from God or from her own desire to see her people live free. Regardless of her motivation, her willingness to sacrifice her life for the cause of liberty is undeniable.


Saint Jeanne d' Arc was a little girl who was not borne of wealth or nobility of title. In spite of her common origins, she possessed the courage to lead armies, the wisdom to convince Kings and the strength to resist an empire. In the most recent century, only one world figure even approaches the same level of ecclesiastical vision, humanistic optimism and inspired leadership as Jeanne d’Arc. That man is Marcus Mosiah Garvey.


Garvey launched the most ambitious and holistic program for liberation of an oppressed people that has ever been formulated in modern history. Words scarcely do justice to describe the boldness of his vision or his deep love for his people. Garvey's vision was built upon a forward thinking strategy of combining political organization, business formation, cultural unity and nation building in order to unify and liberate an oppressed people.


However despite of his accomplishments, Garvey is not regarded with the same universal renown as “the Maid of Orleans”. Jeanne d'Arc was eventually elevated to sainthood and is now worshipped by enemies and devotees alike. Conversely, Garvey’s legacy has been dragged through the mud by his enemies and has become the punch line to cruel jokes told by the very people he loved and sought to liberate....

Brotherhood of the Rock (excerpt)

Basketball is the most beautiful sport known to man. Every nigga who can’t play is jealous of every one who can. And boy were they jealous of me. I’m tall, slim, fine, good looking, strong and fast. I can jump over your ass, dribble around you, shoot over you, dunk in your face and there ain’t shit you can do about it. Then after I win the game your woman wants to sleep with me.

It not just all that stuff though. I swear to God, there’s something magical when you are out there on the court. Basketball players are special and everybody else knows it. They just might not admit they know it.

Football players need a coach or a quarterback to call the plays. Besides any fat bastard can do what they do. Baseball teams rely on a pitcher and the manager to run the show - the slowest show on earth. But basketball, man basket ball is 3 or 4 or 5 guys totally in sync, dedicated to one cause, playing with one ultimate purpose. Basketball is fast, it’s powerful, it’s beautiful – truly the greatest show on earth.

When it’s really on and poppin’, the entire team plays with one mind. Every man on the court can score. Every man on the court can win the game. Ever man can be a hero. At the same time, when the ball is in your hands, it’s like you’re the only man in the world. You can lose the ball. You can miss the shot. You can lose the game – all by yourself. But that’s what you live for. That’s what makes it beautiful....

Balcony Scene

How must it feel to stand on the stage????

To show so many love, yet fuel such rage

What must it be like to look in the crowd????



To hear the cheers, then jeers just as loud

How did you manage those long nights in jail????

Wife left alone to tend young babies’ wails

How were you able to muster the strength????

To take the great struggle to it’s ultimate length

Like Brother Malcolm before, your life soon to end

If you could see us now, would you do it all again????

Even though days earlier you gave God all your fears

Was it all worth the fatherless babies and widow’s tears????

Surrounded by friends you were their greatest hope

Yet hate held you focused clear in its scope

Legends and Legacies (excerpt)

....In 1974, Maynard Holbrook Jackson would take office as the first Black mayor of a major southern city – Atlanta, Ga. Almost immediately, Maynard would initiate programs to expand the Black business sector by encouraging entrepreneurship and increasing participation in municipal business. Although many people challenged such “affirmative action” programs at the time, it has proven to be successful way to create economic opportunity.


Atlanta’s example of awarding municipal contracts to “minority” businesses has proven to be a successful re-allocation scheme. A few instances of corruption, bribery and other criminal activities marred some of the success stories of this era. However, these are universal characteristics of similar situations where large sums of public money are transacted. Without question, the overall scope and activity of the city of Atlanta and the state of Georgia’s economies have been positively affected by the transformation that took place under the Jackson administrations. Without his visionary efforts, Atlanta would not be regarded today as a “Black Mecca” or the “Empire City of the South.”


Another similarity to post apartheid South Africa and the emerging “New South” of the Jackson administrations, was the opportunity to cure an adversarial and untrusting relationship between Atlanta’s majority Black population and the city’s law enforcement community. Atlanta’s segregated neighborhoods were not exactly comparable to the “Townships” of South Africa’s urban areas. Yet a similarly acrimonious relationship between the legal system and Atlanta’s Black residents did exist.


The presence of police officer’s in neighborhoods such as Vine City, “Sweet Auburn” and Mechanicsville seldom incited feelings of good will and warm feelings. Maynard realized the need to assure and secure the integrity and fidelity of the police department and the legal system. He spearheaded the appointment of a Black police chief, public safety commissioner and judges. He created an environment of safe communities in which all citizens were assured of fair and equitable treatment. Jackson understood this was essential to creating an environment where talented people from all walks of life would be allowed to thrive.


After the fall of the South African system of Apartheid in 1994, the country faced similar obstacles and opportunities as Atlanta following the “Jim Crow” era. The iconic South African anti-Apartheid activist Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela was eventually released from prison and ultimately became President of the Republic of South Africa in 1994. Twenty years after the ascent to power of Jackson in Atlanta, Mandela would confront similar issues that blocked the people's pathway to empowerment.


Although the “Jim Crow” era of the American south had ended, this parallel system of inequity had managed to drag on for another thirty years in South Africa. This fact alone makes it obvious that although the situations are very similar they are also very different. Mandela, despite his international reputation and magnanimous renown, could not achieve the same degree of success in transforming South Africa and empowering the Black population as Jackson did in Atlanta....

Clocks and Mirrors (excerpt)

....My Dad had a bearing and countenance about himself such that no teenager would dare address him as "Homeboy" or "Playa" or "Pimp" or "G" like some young people are accustomed to greet "mature" men with these days. However, it's not just an issue of respecting elders, what I seem to observe is that men of a certain age that used to take pride in the responsibility of teaching young men respect, wisdom and all the other various life lessons of being a man, now take pride in the fact that younger men see them as a peer, a buddy, or a "homey" and would be more apt to smoke a blunt with them or drink a beer with them or hook up with some young girls with them, rather than teach them the lessons of respecting young ladies, saying no to drugs and mentoring them through the frontiers of getting an education, planning a career or starting a family.


I must say that, I have never really felt like an "adult" despite the responsibilities of high pressured careers, business ownership, home ownership or even being in a position of mentoring younger people. I think this is partly an assertion of our youth obsessed culture. Yet it is also a larger symptom of my generation’s conscious aversion to the community, family and organizational responsibilities that used to guide men and women through the maturation process.


It used to be necessary for men to "put away childish things" because they had serious commitments and responsibilities to community, family or "the Struggle". It seems nowadays that people have been taught that their only responsibility is to self fulfillment, self gratification and self satisfaction. We (I) seem to be in a constant pursuit of pleasure and self gratification rather than any other higher pursuits....

Ritual

Soul Mates....

Coming Closer

Like Two Ghosts Playing Chess....

Who Will Make the First Move This Time

Complex

Facts of Life: A Family Vignette (excerpt)

....The father, who was sitting in his favorite chair, tilted his head up slowly from his Essence Magazine. He looked over the top of his reading glasses at them quizzically, yet he was also somewhat relieved. He was so proud that his bright young creations had come to him for answers.


Yet at the same time he was very concerned about sharing this new and powerful knowledge about sex with them and the affect it could have on their lives. He pressed his finger against his temple and rested his firm jaw upon his hand for a moment. He began to think some more about what he would say to them. After a few more moments of reflection, he decided it was now finally time to dispense his well considered and sage advice. “Son, pull down your pants and show your sister your thing” He said.


“Daddy!!!!” His delicate young flower of a daughter exclaimed “I’ve seen his little thing before. We used to take baths together when we were little. Remember???? My God!!!! I don’t want to see that thing.”


Her father slowly rose from his chair. He looked his baby girl straight in the eyes. He gave her a look that only a Daddy could give. She knew he meant business.


“That is the only one of those things you've ever seen, Right????” He asked with a gentle sternness. “Oh my God Daddy!!!! Yes, that’s the only one I’ve ever seen. What’s wrong with you today????” She shrieked.


“Well good then.” He said. “Because let me tell you right now, them things don’t do nothing but make you fat. They're a big pain in the ass. They try to make a sucker out of you every time. Every time you see one coming, you’re going to have to clean up after it. You hear me girl?!?!?!?!”


The young lady was now so perplexed and bewildered by what she just heard that she couldn’t speak a word. When her dear father asked her to raise her skirt and show her brother her’s she barely heard him, but she did as he asked without question like any good daughter would.


“Now boy” he admonished his son “You see that thing there???? That thing right there’ll take all your money. I mean every goddamned penny of it. It won’t leave you any time to play with your friends or play by yourself. Every time you think you’ve got it licked, it’ll just leave a bad taste in your mouth. It’ll always have you going to the doctor. It’ll even have the government taking money out of your paycheck. Do you hear me boy????”


His two lovely children affirmed that they indeed had both heard him loud and clear and would heed his every word. As soon as he finished, they quickly asked if they could go to their rooms now. As they ascended the staircase to their rooms, they kept their eyes fixed on their father the entire time....