"Black Men Don't (Blank)"

So, a friend at work and I had a nice discussion about what he has apparently never seen Black men do... and since he's never seen them do "BLANK", that must mean they DON'T do it, right? Well... this debate has a $5 wager on each example. My mission... prove him wrong. Since he could not verify the names I spat out to him, the link to this blog will be provided for additional evidence. Let's break down the examples.... Black Men Don't --------->


SWIM: Think again, my anonymous friend at work -- for whom I got into a healthy discussion with today. As you can see here, this is Cullen Jones... a three-time All-American swimmer. You gotta admit... I outdid myself proving you wrong on this one, my "brotha of a different color". I'll buy you a TV for Christmas and an annual subscription to a newspaper.









SKI: You may not know what the NBS is, so I thought this picture may provide a clue. Looks like you need to pay me my coins, my red-headed amigo. I promise, it's not a super-tanned Caucasian imposter skiing on a mound of sugar. This is all pure dark, sweet chocolate owning the slopes.... just like I now own your wallet.












PLAY HOCKEY: Oops... looks like I got you on this one too, my friend. That's an additional $5.00 in coinage you owe... and at this rate, your stereotypes are going to earn me a free lunch for the next week. Oh, and a little tidbit... that's Willie O' Ree in his younger years. And that's a Boston Bruins uniform he's in. Yeah, that's right... all gay men knew that, homie!








This has been an educational advertisement for that nameless guy at work whom I still love, no matter what stereotypes he has... or should I say had. It was a bold discussion between two adults, and I'm so proud of you for making yourself vulnerable. I take no offense... or checks... or credit cards. Open your wallet, because your rent is due.... Sucka!!

Who You Callin' a Tar Baby?!

So, U.S. Representative Doug Lamborn recently decided to use the term "tar baby" when discussing President Obama's policies in a recent radio interview. I'm sure many people are up in arms over this, and Rep. Lamborn has sense sent a letter of apology to the president.

I should have known better than to read the politics section of the news today. Other than the return of U.S. Rep Gabrielle Giffords, it serves as nothing more than to piss me off to read stuff like this. He's definitely on the radar screen now, and I would hope that the scant number of African-American voters that checked his box a few years ago will keep a watchful eye out on this guy.

The Heat is On

So, dig it.. it's 109 degrees in the shade here in Dallas -- with no relief in sight. The water restrictions are now firmly in place. The state government is pleading for homeowners to limit the use of electricity between the hours of 3:00PM and 7:00PM.

After receiving a manageable $189.71 electric bill last month, I went online to see if there were any tips I could use to make sure it stays manageable. I'm all about the environment and doing my part to conserve resources to satisfy the needs of community over needs of the individual.

However, I quickly realized one big problem with the government's plea to us, the lowly homeowners.

You see, while the elderly run a high risk of health-related issues during this time of year -- cutting down on the A/C and suffering as much as they can tolerate without outright dying -- you can walk into a nearby shopping center or grocery store and be instantly bathed in 65-degree air (In my case, a downtown hotel for a leadership summit). Of course, this isn't an exhaustive list of businesses that waste energy while we (the lowly underlings) are crimping on our energy usage.

Would it hurt business to turn the thermostat up to 78 or so during peak hours? What about the water fountains that gush water all over the 'Garden-of-Edenlike' landscaping around the neighborhood mall? The biggest energy consumers are seemingly getting away with murder while Grandma next door risks getting a ticket (that she can't afford to pay) if she happens to leave the sprinkler on 5 minutes past 10:00am.

What the F*CK is up with that?!

The Ex-Files: 2009-1970=39?

Picture it. Dallas. 2009.

I was in one of those romantic dry-spells, healing my wounds and preparing to keep on living life. It was by sheer chance that I would bump into a guy online that I had chatted with years prior. Judging by his picture, he was a smoking hot guy -- and British, to boot!

Eventually, we would finally meet at a public place and start the process getting to know more about one another. And when that day came, he showed up in a nice pair of distressed jeans, a tight muscle shirt, and a baseball cap with rough edges. He almost looked like an older version of an Abercrombie and Fitch model. The first words out of his mouth carried the sweet sounds of a British accent, and I immediately felt my knees weaken.

As our date went on, I learned quite a bit about him. He told me he was a 39-year old Flight Attendant for a well-known airline. Eventually, we entered a relationship and I met his mother... and even his ex-boyfriend who had to have been pushing 50 or so. Then, the subtle signs began to appear.

He'd never let me see his passport or any other identification... and when I caught him dyeing his hair one day, my gut told me to ask him what year he was born.

"1970," he answered.
"Damn," I thought to myself.

After that, I must have asked him how old he was at least 5 more times -- and strangely enough, he'd always answer that he was born in 1970 rather than give me his age in years. I just knew he was lying about his age; but other than subtle things about his body that fueled my speculation, I had no hard proof... literally. Soon thereafter, I had my smoking gun that he was not 39 years old at all. In fact, he was 10 years off.... but damned good looking nonetheless.

Although we eventually broke it off, I was left wondering had he told me his real age at the time, would it have made any difference? Was I making a bigger issue out of it than it was? Yeah, I'll put it out there -- trust is a big thing for me, to the point of being an addiction. But there will always be that "what-if" thought in the back of my mind...

Did I potentially pass up a wonderful opportunity because 2009 minus 1970 didn't equal 39?

Only Black Men Need Apply... No Offense!

So, here I am... roasting through another brutal summer in North Texas. As the sun scorches the landscape outside, I've taken refuge within the cool confines of my dwelling -- fighting off sheer boredom and relentless silence.

It wasn't long before I realized it was the perfect day to comb through the cyberstreets and see if there were any cool, single men out there to chit-chat with. As I "window-shopped", I couldn't help notice how many profiles contained phrases like, "Black Man looking for the same..." or "No Blacks or Asians... it's just my preference, no offense".

For some reason, these types of informational nuggets are eyebrow raising as they immediately trigger two stark trains of thought in my mind. Are those who go out of their way to post such distastes revealing racist qualities? Or, is this simply a method of weeding out people we know we won't be attracted to? And to that thought... how do we KNOW we won't be attracted to ALL members of a certain race?

Just browsing at the black-and-white definition of 'racist' in the dictionary (ummm.. no pun intended), if this is an example of being a racist, can we conclude that this individual has a hatred or intolerance for another race? Can we conclude that he/she thinks they are of a superior race due to inherent differences among the various human races? I don't believe so. In some strange way, it's almost like accusing gay men of being sexist because they automatically cross all women off of their dating portfolio.

Now things kind of blur when the aforementioned profiles reveal that he/she is open for something other than a relationship or sex -- like a good old fashioned friendship. Meeting new friends can't hurt, right? So, what if a White male that is truly looking for friendship automatically deletes chat requests from all Black men? Does that make him a racist? Or is he just being dishonest with himself, in that he isn't really looking for friendship?

And who said just women are complex individuals? (Sexist people, probably...)

Who Am I?

Oh, there's nothing like a peaceful, lustful Sunday morning... the Lord's day of rest. Here I am, working intermittently on my first book and browsing through my favorite celebrity pages. Then, I passed this guy up and turned around for another peek. But do you know who he is?

The following is known:

1) He's an American actor, born in 1970.
2) He was badly injured in a 2007 car accident in California.
3) He's a character in one of my favorite TV shows -- "V"

So, what's your guess?

Help, I Can't Find a Man!!

So, the beat goes on here in North Texas. The days are long and hot... unlike most other things during the dog days of summer. And man, did the "dog days" hit with a vengeance.

I spent the evening with one of my sidekicks, chatting over wine and food. We decided this week to stay away from the bars and just kick it at his place. Now I'll be the first to admit that he's quite a looker. Young.. smart.. handsome.. and has two of the most endearing qualities of a promising husband: a car and a job.

But that evening, his usual easy-going, perky attitude turned dark. He is getting fed up with his romantic outlook, and he bitched about not being able to find a man. I looked at him longingly, almost burning a stare through him. I was trying to find just the right way to tell him objectively and with tact. Then, it came to me... he was picky -- very picky -- in fact, almost to the point of disorder. Out of respect for the value of confidentiality, I will call him "Stud".

Dear Stud... every time we go out, you pick up the menu chocked full of delicious entrees and order something unrealistic:

Stud looks at waiter and demands, "Yes, I'd like the Man of the Day, well done but not charred, with exactly 1.2% fat, perfect teeth, a salary in excess of $70K/yr, no bad manners, no snoring, no smoking, works out 4 days a week, 100% honest, and always thinks I'm right. Plus, I don't ever want him to go 'window shopping' and to always sweep me off my feet."

Waiter rolls eyes and responds, "I'm sorry, Sir. We're fresh out of that."

Stud looks at me and hisses, "This is bull shit, Kev. Let's peel out of here."

Then, we bolt the restaurant and the cycle starts all over again. Maybe someday I'll get the courage to straight up tell him what he needs to hear. I admire him for knowing what he wants, but damn, his expectations are high.

Look, if you are in a restaurant of 30 people, and they are all 'ugly' or 'straight'... how long must you go on bitching about not finding a man before you compromise? Either try something on the menu that you'd probably end up loving, or bitch and starve. There are always options, some more logical than others. Stud, I love you, but wake up and smell the roses. You don't have to lower your standards -- just bring them in line with reality around you before you shrivel up, sag southward, and die alone.

Whatever you decide, I'm here as your endearing friend. *Raises glass* ... bottoms up!