Drumroll Please ... (My Top 5 Mizzou Moments)

Most people who went to fair old Misery don't have too many great moments. They have bad memories that stick with them like Dirty Dobbs or parking tickets (I do have both of those in the memory bank).

But I had a conversation with an old friend recently, and I challenged her to come up with her top five Mizzou moments. Of course, she came back at me, and here are mine:

(Drumroll Please)
5. First semester, freshman year. This was the first time I really experienced puppy love, with PoleGurl. I didn't take anything seriously in high school and my time with PoleGurl is something I will cherish for the rest of my life. By the way, if you don't get the name, I told PoleGurl to treat me like a stripper pole, and in a hapless attempt, she tried to swing around me. Yes, she felt hard to the floor and bruised her buttocks, thus the name, PoleGurl.

4. Neophyte practice. "Listen, Listen, Listen," was my favorite phrase while practicing for my neophyte show with my lb's. They'd stay on me because I had all these ideas, and got shot down every day. It turned out to be a humbling, yet fun experience, and it was certainly fun to hear a lot of people screaming my name, and cool to finish my clutch (or rap). My favorite gifts? The ones from the Ds that came through crooked and backwards (wink, wink).

3. 9/11. I actually wasn't at Mizzou, instead I was busy beginning an internship in Dallas, at the Morning News. Needless to say, it was an amazing/trying experience to be in away from most of the people I loved during that day/time. I wanted to be in class, and in all actuality, I was. Just one that produced an Extra that day and had news meetings every 20 minutes to update on status. Still, I wish I could have been with my friends. I think I used a good 400 daytime minutes that day. Good thing it was on a company phone.

2. March 11, 2000. The day I got my life back. If you don't understand, you don't understand.

1. November 9th, 2002. The day I met my best friend/worst enemy. I know that may seem confusing, but meeting Double B aka Black Barbie was an amazing moment in life for me. I've learned so much from the situation. It's caused me to think at a level I didn't think capable for myself. I've spent so much time searching for the love's definition, and I found it in this situation.

Note: I think it's interesting that I remember the dates for the most important days. 9/11 is obvious, but the others aren't quite. But they stand out like a black student in a college class. Maybe, I'll come thru with my five worst moments tomorrow or later tonight ...

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My Ode to Toni Childs ...

Dear Jill Marie Jones,

I don't know how to begin this. Words really can't express how I feel about you. Yes, I know you're crazy, but that doesn't matter. Crazy people need love, too.

Anyway, I found myself up at 2 a.m. last night, watching my favorite episode of your old show, Girlfriends. You know, the episode where you turn 32, and Joan thinks you're 31. The one where you go to a Botox party to try to make yourself look younger, and end up with an eyebrow stuck high on your forehead. The one where you meet your now estranged husband, Todd.

Yeah, that one.

It seemed as though Mara Brock Akil, the show's creator, really wanted Girlfriends to center around Joan's life, but you and Maya became the life of the six-season, and running, party.

Golden Brooks' character showed the strength and struggles of a young sassy black mother trying to make it within a marriage that started young.

But you embody the ignorance and reality of most of the people who exist today. You are the epitome of Stacey Dash's character in Kanye West's All Falls Down video - so pompous and full of yourself, yet so fragile and lost.

Most of us relate to you in some way, be it the material things or your standoffish personality.

We were able to laugh at you because of how outlandish you were speaking in the third person ("I'm Toni Childs, and Toni Childs specializes in results!"), the mistakes you made (putting yourself before those you loved), and making more (cheating on your boyfriends, chasing men for their money, trying to sleep with your best friend's man as a sense of revenge).

But so much of you (well hopefully not) we see in ourselves. You've shown most of us young black people what we need not be, what we should run from without ceasing until our dying hour.

This is no knock on you. Hell, I wish your fine ass was still on the show so I could see my favorite eye candy evolve and watch Toni continue to fumble through life aimlessly, living that aspect of my life vicariously through you. I'm going to miss you, your bountiful lips, your sterling eyes and yes, your whip appeal.

Now, I and a whole lot of other black people have to find another way or character to get our "crazy" out of us. Shame on CW. Stay fine and I can't wait to see you in whatever your next project is, so long as you're not cheerleading on some Dallas football sideline again.

If you ever stop in Kizza City, call me (although you can't because you don't have my number, and you wouldn't anyway) and I'll show you the finer points. Best of luck with all that you do.

Missing you already, your No. 1 fan,
Victor Damone, Jr.

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"We Going to the Ship ... What?"

"I love it when you call me Big Poppa. Throw your hands in the air, if you's a true player. Cause I see some ladies tonight that should be having my baby, baby."

WICHITA - So I'm at the ship, which means I'm busy as hell. I'll holler at you in a day or two ... out. D. Scott.

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"We Going To The Ship ..."

"I love it when you call me Big Poppa. Throw your hands in the air, if you's a true player. Cause I see some ladies tonight that should be having my baby, baby."

WICHITA - So I'm at the ship, which means I'm busy as hell. I'll holler at you in a day or two ... out. D. Scott.

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...

So I don't really have much to write about. I guess I do, but I don't feel like writing. This is maybe the worst week of the work year for me, and it has drained me.

• My work week started with a two drives to Topeka and a busted tire this weekend.
• My Monday was consumed by a 12-hour roundtrip trek to Dodge City for state golf.
• A subsquent issue with my car because of stated trek.
• Now I will head to Wichita for state softball on Friday and Saturday.

Now, the good part.

• My parents are acting like parents.
• I've officially like someone new.
• I think she knows it, but she's a G so I have to wait for the right moment to spill.
• We spent a good portion of the last two days chillin, and that confirmed what I already know.
• The Duk was in town, and we went out with Mags and Mike, Prater and Co. Good Times.
• Last night, some random women were hitting on me and calling me hot ... really random.

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Good News, Bad News ...

Melyssa Ford, Tigger and Julissa...

They're gone from BET come August according to www.allhiphop.com, and anyone who knows my well-document disdain for Julissa knows that I am appeased.

I'm not happy for Melyssa or Tigger. Who I can't stand on the show 106 & Park is Julissa (though I admire her for what she did leading up to her gig at BET). Still, this is officially one of the best days of this year because I might actually be able to stomach an entire episode (probably not because of how bad the music on the show can get). But then again it's one of the worst days as well.

I gave you the good news, here's the bad. Jill Marie Jones, who plays Toni Childs on Girlfriends, has left the show. Want proof? They don't even have her picture with the other three on the show's website anymore. That makes this a sad, sad day. If you know me, you know I have an affinity for her like no one else in Hollywood or on TV. I love her character, though I believe she'd drive any man crazy.

You can have Halle Berry, give me Jill (actually, I'm re-thinking/recanting this stupid ass statement as I type it. Halle Berry is Halle Berry).

But Jill Jones is the most attractive person on Girlfriends, and so long as she doesn't go Toni Childs in real life, I would kill to be with her. She's that fine to me. The bountiful lips, the dark skin, the engaging eyes. Yeah, she is what it is.

So, this is what I propose. BET, find some way to get Jill Marie Jones to host the 106 & Park. I will watch it when it comes on at 5, and then watch the re-run at 10 a.m. the next morning. It's that serious (no, it's really not, but you get my point).

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Leave The Lights On ...

Ed's note: Sorry if this offends anyone. Like Bill Parcells said, No disrespect.

Teddy Pendergrass made a big mistake with the song "Turn Off The Lights." Don't get me wrong, I love the song. But it should have been titled "Light A Candle."

Why, you ask?

While driving from the most Northeastern edge of Kansas to well, the most southwestern edge, I immersed myself in good conversation with female friend. Don't know how it quite got there but somehow I found myself on my sexual soapbox.

"I cannot stand monotony in bed. Spice it up. Do something different," I said. "Long jump onto me. Wake me up in the morning with a special surprise. Do something. Just don't do the same thing."

I really hate boring sex. There must be spontaneity. There must be passion.

And for this to happen, you cannot have someone who has a mapped-out three-page plan of how every sexual encounter must go. Moreover, you cannot have someone who must have the lights off before they start taking off clothes and get in the sack.

That's just wrong.

"If you're scared to take your clothes off in front of this person, you don't need to be sleeping with them," I said. "That just doesn't make much sense."

"Everybody has their needs," my friend chimed back. "They need to get some, even if they don't want someone to see their body."

If you don't want someone to see what you look like, you don't deserve to sleep with that person. I mean, I could careless about a stretch mark here or there. I could give a crap about a saggy chest or that unfathomable birth mark. If I'm gonna go through with it, I want to fully enjoy you. Not just envision what you look like through your silhouette in the dark. Especially if I love you.

"Turning the lights off is a turn off for me," I said. "Unless, you've previously lit candles or it’s a three a.m. "wake me up in the middle of the night" booty call, i.e. a special surprise, leave the lights alone. Don't hit the stop button on the foreplay because you need to turn the lights down. If you do, I will press power then eject, and the session will be over."

Now, I knew I shouldn't have said any of this to my friend though. She immediately started to panic, saying that the next time she had sex; she'd turn the lights off because she was self-conscious about her body.

"I can't do it with them on anymore," she said. "What if he sees all those stretch marks while he's hitting it from the back? I'll be embarrassed."

I thought I was trying to help her out, and all I did was more damage. ...

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My Letter to John Mason

Dear John Mason,

I don't know you, and honestly that's probably not all that bad. My name is Victor Damone, Jr., and I've followed your love life closely, well at least since it became as big as the insects in Texas, and have felt sorry for you. Now that things are said and done, I just want you to know that everything's gonna be okay in due time if you just let the crazy woman be.

I don't know what it feels like to get left at or close to the altar, nor do I want to know. I especially wouldn't care to be subjected to the circumstances with which you had to deal, you know, your wife-to-be literally disappearing for a few days.

Yeah, she - Jennifer Wilbanks, the infamous Runaway Bride - is a basket case and a few hundred apples and a root base short of a tree. She fled for "personal reasons" - i.e. she wasn't quite ready to jump the broom with you and she crazy - which should have thrown up a million red and white flags or blood cells, how ever you prefer it, inside your head.

Then came the national headlines. Everyone was searching for your wife-to-be including yourself. There legions of police officers scouring several states for her as though she were Elvis and she turned up on the other side of the country claiming to have been abducted and sexually assaulted, a far-fetched farce.

You should have retreated. Hell, any and about every other man would have thrown a towel, no wait, a white bedsheet her direction and started running the opposite way. But not you. You stayed.

I started wondering if your love were really that deep for this person who made you look like Boo Boo's biggest fool or were you really going to try to make things work. For trying, I think you have one of the biggest hearts in America. But for trying, I also think you're about as intelligent as a bag of rocks.

I must say, I'm glad you and Jennifer have split before going through with the wedding. I mean, what good is another divorce in this country that you can almost guarantee will go down, well, that is unless she just disappears again?

I wonder if they had a line in Vegas of whether or not you and Jennifer would actually marry. We all know where my money would be assured. That'd be like putting money on Secretatriat at The Belmont Stakes, guaranteed winnings for me.

Put it like this, a friend of yours told People Magazine: "I think John realized there were some fundamental differences in their personalities that he wasn't going to be able to deal with."

Ya don't think? She's fundamentally crazy, and it took you about a year too long to see what the rest of us saw when she showed up on our television screens in Arizona looking like a pack of hiyenas had been turned loose on her. No disrespect intended (think Bill Parcells and the Japanese people), but you have made an evident distinction between love and foolery.

So people stick around for love, you stuck around because, well, you were the fool. But nothing matters when fools fall in love.

Now, I don't know if she called things off or if you did. It really doesn't matter, though. Get your grief game on, but make it short-lived because you'll be thankful that you don't have that ignorance to deal with on a daily basis anymore - even if she gave you the pink slip.

You're going to wake up one day soon, look back and say "What the hell was I thinking all this time" and you're going to realize just how much of an idiot you were and how insane she is. But you'll be thankful that you got out when you did.

Hopefully, you're not wallowing in the ignorance that is your life. I know it must be hard. But look at it this way, at least she didn't waste that much more of your life. Now, please don't go find the sequel and do this same shit again. Please, don't.

Sincerely,
Victor

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10 Ways to Marry the Wrong Person ...

I thought this made some good sense, so I made it a post. I didn't even read all of it. But I skimmed the first few sentences of each point, and it was dead on about a lot of things ... Kinda thought provoking ... The most interesting one to me was No. 2 because it hit dead on with a conversation I had the other day.

Ten Ways to Marry the Wrong Person
By Rabbi Dov Heller, M. A.

With the divorce rate over 50% too many are apparently making a serious mistake in deciding whom to spend the rest of their life with. To avoid becoming a "statistic," try to internalize 10 insights.

1. You pick the wrong person because you expect him/her to change after youre married. The classic mistake. Never marry potential. The golden rule is, if you can't be happy with the person the way he or she is now, don't get married. As a colleague of mine so wisely put it, "You actually can expect people to change after their married...for the worst!" So when it comes to the other person's spirituality, character, personal hygiene, communication skills, and personal habits, make sure you can live with these as they are now.

2. You pick the wrong person because you focus more on chemistry than on character. Chemistry ignites the fire, but good character keeps it burning. Beware of the "I'm in love" syndrome. "I'm in love often means, "I'm in lust." Attraction is there, but have you carefully checked out this person's character? Here are four characteristics to definitely check for: a. Humility: Does this person believe that "doing the right thing" is more important than personal comfort? b. Kindness: Does this person enjoy giving pleasure to other people? How does s/he treat people s/he doesn't have to be nice to? Does s/he do volunteer work? Give to charity? c. Responsibility: Can I depend on this person to do what s/he says? What s/he's going to do? d. Happiness: Does this person like himself? Does s/he enjoy life? Is s/he emotionally stable? Then ask yourself: Do I want to be more like this person? Do I want to have a child with this person? Would I like my child to turn out like him or her?

3. You pick the wrong person because the man doesn't understand what a woman needs most. Men and women have unique emotional needs, and more often than not, it is the man who just doesn't get it. Jewish tradition places the onus on the man to understand the emotional needs of the woman and to satisfy them. The unique need of a woman is to be loved - to feel that she is the most important person in her husband's life. The husband needs to give her consistent, quality attention. This is most apparent in Judaism's approach to sexual intimacy The Torah obligates the husband to meet the sexual needs of his wife. Sexual intimacy is always on the woman's terms. Men are goal oriented especially when it comes to this area. As a wise woman once pointed out, "Men have two speeds: on and off." Women are experience oriented. When a man is able to switch gears and become more experience-oriented, he will discover what makes his wife very happy then the man forgets about his own needs and focuses on giving his wife.

4. You choose the wrong person because you do not share common life goals and priorities. There are three basic ways we connect with another person: a) Chemistry and compatibility, b) Share common interests, c) Share common life goal. Make sure you share a deeper level of connection that sharing life goals provide. After marriage, the two of you will either grow together or grow apart. To avoid growing apart, you must figure out what you're living for while you are single-and then find someone who has come to the same conclusion as you. This is the true definition of a soul mate. A soul mate is a goal mate . . . two people who ultimately share the same understanding of life's purpose and therefore share the same priorities, values and goals.

5. You choose the wrong person because you get involved sexually too quickly. Sexual involvement before the commitment of marriage can be a big problem because it often precludes a fully honest exploration of important issues. Sexual involvement tends to cloud one's mind. And a clouded mind is not inclined to make good decisions. It is not necessary to "test drive" in order to find out if a couple are sexually compatible. If you do your homework and make sure you are intellectually and emotionally compatible, you don't have to worry about sexual compatibility. Of all the studies on divorce, sexual incompatibility is never cited as a main reason why people divorce.

6. You pick the wrong person because you do not have deeper emotional connection to evaluate whether you have a deeper emotional connection or not, ask: "Do I respect and admire this person?" This does not mean, "Am I impressed by this person?" A Mercedes impresses us. We do not respect someone because they own a Mercedes. You should be impressed by qualities of creativity, loyalty, determination, etc. Also ask: "! Do I trust this person?" This also means, "Is he/she emotionally stable? Do I feel I can rely on him/her?


7. You pick the wrong person because you choose someone with whom you don't feel emotionally safe. Ask yourself the following questions: Do I feel calm, peaceful and relaxed with this person? Can I fully be myself and express myself with this person? Does this person make me feel good about myself? Do you have a really close friend who does make you feel this way? Make sure the person you marry makes you feel the same way! Are you afraid of this person in any way? You should not feel you need to monitor what you say because you are afraid of how the other person will view it. If you're afraid to express your feelings and opinions openly, there's a problem with the relationship. Another aspect of feeling safe is that you don't feel the other person is trying to control you. Controlling behaviors are a sign of an abusive person. Be on the look out for someone who is always trying to change you. There is a big difference between "controlling" and "making suggestions." A suggestion is made for your benefit.

8. You pick the wrong person because you don't put everything on the table. Anything that bothers you about the relationship must be brought up for discussion. Bringing up the uncomfortable stuff is the only way to evaluate how well the two of you communicate, negotiate, and work together. Over the course of a lifetime, difficulties will inevitably arise. You need to know now, before making a commitment: Can you resolve your differences and find compromises that work for both of you? Never be afraid to let the person know what bothers you. This is also a way for you to test how vulnerable you can be with this person. If you can't be vulnerable, you can't be intimate. The two go hand in hand.

9. You pick the wrong person because you use the relationship to escape from personal problems and unhappiness. If you are unhappy and single, you'll probably be unhappy and married, too. Marriage does not fix personal, psychological and emotional problems. If anything, marriage will exacerbate them. If you are not happy with yourself and your life, take responsibility to fix it now while you are single. You'll feel better and your future spouse will thank you.

10. You pick the wrong person because he/she is involved in a triangle. To be "triangulated" means a person is emotionally dependent on someone or something else while trying to develop another relationship. A person who hasn't separated from his or her parents or family is a classic example of triangulation. People can also be triangulated with things as well, such as work, drugs, Internet, hobbies, sports or money. Be careful that you and your partner are free of triangles. The person caught in a triangle cannot be fully emotionally available to you. You'll not be their number one priority. And that's not basis for a marriage.

Many people are struggling because they have not used what God has given them. God gives you an acorn, you invest it and it will become a tree! Stop praying for trees while acorns are lying all over the ground. God answered your prayer for the tree when he sent you the acorn.

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When Will We "Move On Up?" When We Get a Real Emcee.

"Jesus was black. Ronald Reagan was the devil ...." ~ Huey Freeman, The Boondocks, The Pilot (The Garden Party).

Fifteen episodes later.

"Oh not just heaven Ruckus, white heaven. You see there are many different types of people so God created many seperate, but for the most part, equal heavens. White heaven is for decent, good God-fearing Christians who hate everyone and everything relating to black people. That means no Muhammad Ali, no hip hop music and no Jesse Jackson. ... It turns out God doesn't have that much of problem with racism. He doesn't even remember slavery except for during February. Personally, I hate black people Ruckus, that's why I did everything I could to make their lives miserable. Crack? Me. AIDS? Me. Reaganomics? Come on, I'm in the name." ~ Ronald Reagan guest appearing as himself, The Boondocks (The Passion of Ruckus).

Now it all makes sense. Can't you see it? Ronald Reagan, Kanye West and Crack Music?
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I had a lengthy talk with John Lennon's Black Daughter about a week ago about why Black America is the way it is today, why we have no distinguishable leaders aside from Russell Simmons and Jay-Z (and distinguishable doesn't mean Jay is who we should be following), how the hood became, well, the hood and why things seems as though they're not getting better any time soon.

No Black Leaders
Not Jesse Jackson, senior nor junior. Not Louis Farhakkan (sp should tell you i don't consider him a leader). Not the Rev. Al Sharpton.

There are more people in black society who look up to Russell Simmons and Jay-Z than any of the aforementioned. Russell is actually okay because he's truly business-minded, but then again you have to think about the majority of the records he has responsible for over that 20 years, and some of the messages. Then he also does provide us with an extremely positive one as well. Jay-Z. I shouldn't have to explain this, and I won't. He's a great rapper. They let the other two rappers our people tend to revere get shot (not assasinated, think Chris Rock).

The last great leader we had? It might have been Martin Luther King, Jr, and they found a way to use his name in vain with all the violence that goes down on MLK Avenues throughout the country.


That's just sad. Nobody has really stepped into the spotlight to lead our people, and the likes of Reagan, Bush and Bush would want it that way. I think that if we had one viable leader for all, who could indentify with the Hood and the Talented Tenth, we might actually progress.

The Neighborhood Became Hood

Crack, gang life and its perpetuation during the late 80s and early 90s with gangsta rap. It's as simple as that.

Crack and gang life existed in the 70s. Coming home from Vietnam on coke was commonplace. But it wasn't necessarily the 'it' thing to do for all blacks, unless you had great amounts of cash ala Ray Charles and Co. Somehow crack, the diluted version of coke, made it's way onto the black streets in a major way in the early 80s coincidentally during the mainstream introduction of hip hop, and Ronald Reagan taking the presidential office after serving as governor of California. Some how, the consequence for the charges concerning crack loomed larger than the charges for coke. Coincidence? I think not.

Hip Hop music of the early-to-mid 80s kept the party hype. It was about kicking it. Grand Master Flash and the Furious Five. The Sugar Hill Gang. Big Daddy Kane. Run DMC. Etc. They had fun. Meanwhile, Rick James did every drug you can imagine doing, and probably all at once.

But hip hop music didn't seem to negatively affect the hood until NWA and Ice T hit the scene. There music was as raw and as vivid as the lyrics provided by the aforementioned. But it, in some ways, glorified that lifestyle. Think about it? Do you remember the crips and bloods in your neighborhood before NWA dropped Straight Outta Compton? I don't. This just personfied and glorified this life style, and brought it to mainstream America, including every major city in the USA.

I think it's what everyone saw, and what everyone wanted, of course because hip hop sets the trend, even more so for the white kids. When NWA dropped that album, Ronald Reagan was in the Oval Office (or maybe by then it was Daddy Bush, who cares?) smiling like no other because this whole thing was on it's way to being blown out of the water.

Forget My adidas. It was time for dickies, white tees and hustling. Do you know why Tommy Hilifiger became so popular? Because Snoop Dogg wore his gear at some MTV Music Awards show during a performance in the early 90s. Everyone wanted that lifestyle, and mimmicked it. And look at us now. In hell (probably, considering Huey Freeman did call him the devil), Ronald is loving every second of it. It's too bad the ideals are visible in the suburban high schools as well. I guess karma has its purpose.

Moving on Down
Maybe it's the fact that though music is fun again it's still full of extremely suggestive and derogatory lyrics and videos (I was Gettin Some, Ms. New Booty, Laffy Taffy, Hard Out Here for a Pimp, etc.).

This is what our people worship. We don't desire to wear business suits. We want to rock Roc-a-Wear and Sean John and Phat Farm and Snowman Tees and shirts and hats with rhinestones and white-tees.

We want to bling, bling. We want to buy the car, and put every accessory that belong in a house in the vehicle, before we buy the house, which actually makes money.

It's not getting better on the whole. Historically Black Colleges and the six percent at mainstream schools are becoming the more progressively hood because more and more are coming out of high school as what we consider to be "collegiate thugs." It's kind of scary, and I don't know what should be done.

I wish we had a leader. A Malcolm or Martin, not a Tupac or Biggie or Jay - they're all great Emcees. But we need a Master of Ceremonies who actually can connect with the people for the people, and not just sell out at the opportunity to get some booty or money cause it's there. We need an MC who understands the hood and the talented tenth, respects both and honors all.

I think that's the only way we can reverse this Crack Music, Boondocked reality and start Movin on Up like the Jeffersons.

"There's a big difference between putting words over some music, and blending those same words into the music. There's not a lot of humour. They use a lot of slang and colloquialisms, and you don't really see inside the person. Instead, you just get a lot of posturing." ~ Gil Scott-Heron

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(Sh)it Happens ...

So I got an angry AIM message from a friend CeeCee about the fact that I forgot her birthday yesterday. It's something I'm extremely bad at doing, remembing birthdays of friends.

That's why I love Facebook and MySpace so much. They do the job for us and keep track of your friends birthdays. I caught Grandma's birthday last week, and we had a quiant conversation about the quarter-life crisis (I've already had mine. Or at least i think it's over). But me, yeah I'll be the one to mess that, the birthday warning, up still.

CeeCee is on MySpace, and i got the warning. I just forgot to make the call. So anyway, we started talking about my book, and the concept behind it. Then somehow that led to us talking about what we'd name a book or movie about our lives.

"I think I'd go with 'Do It Anyway,'" she said thinking of a phrase she repeats time and time again.

I on the other hand, thought of my whimisical way of saying that I can't control anything but myself.

"My title would be, 'Life ... Shit Happens!" with the Sh in parenthesis," I said. We both laughed pretty hard, and I thought about how I forget to call her for her birthday. Yeah, (Sh)it really did, or didn't, happen.

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Writer's Block = Pictures Post ...

Since I've hit a writing wall the size of that wall in China, I'm just going to post some pics. I promise, I'll write something later today when I get done working, and i'm going to get back on my book game as well. But here are some pics from graduation and other things ...
Rickey Lee (the most random person I know) and I
Jari and I
Brittany and I
Jacinta and Ali, they messed up both of their names.

Myself, Roommate and Broham at Friday's on, you guessed it, Friday.

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Remember 86

okay, so I don't feel like writing right now. So I'm meeting you halfway. Here's something I wrote not that long ago about days long ago ...

Remember 86
Written by DAMON SMITH

Six years old, yeah I was still a shorty
But at recess, nobody dominated the court like me
All the girlies in my small world,
They loved my head’s every curl
In the classroom, my grades were trump tight
Forget moms, for me, I was doing things right
I didn’t care what anybody thought
My soul being bought,
Never in my mind, that thought crossed
I recall it like yesterday
Longing for days like that, I pray
Before I fall asleep
I wake to this reality
Trying to trump this fallacy
Wishing these memories I could keep …
Throughout the day

Remember 86
A feeling just like this
Wishing you could do more than reminisce
Days like that were meant for Heaven’s bliss

Do you Remember 86
Those days, I really miss
No worries, No real cares
Just real love filling the atmosphere

He-Man and G.I. Joe’s, were my heroes
Transformers and Voltron, toys I loved to control
Never thought those things could get old
But another promise lay ahead
Even with the strife, loving with a purpose,
Knowing the lessons taught, can be all-purpose,
But only if you attempt to get off the surface
Will you ever learn to break bread
I remember it like yesterday
Longing for days like that, I pray
Each day I wake in the morn
Sometimes, I wish I could go back
With no worries, there was nothing I lacked
I can’t, but the memory, I’ll adorn
Throughout the day…

Remember 86
I know I’d never forget
Wishing you could do more than reminisce
Days like that were meant for Heaven’s bliss

Do you Remember 86
Those days, I really miss
No worries, No real cares
Just real love filling the atmosphere

(Bridge)
Michael hadn’t come into his own
The other Michael had already claimed his throne
Moms wouldn’t even let me talk on the phone
You couldn’t sand the thoughts away with emery
The squad had just won the series
Doogie Howser was preparing to get his M.D.
There’s no other place I’d rather be
Than trapped inside those memories

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Sabbatical

I'm on a bit of a sabbatical today. I may write something later. Maybe not. I've got about 20 more pages of this book I want to get done. In the mean time, I recommend that you pick up Eric Roberson's The Appetizer if you can. It is definitely my jumpoff right now.

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Would You Want to Continue Reading This?

Amid my desires to be self-sufficient and my busy work schedule, I've currently written 70 pages of this book. My question to you: What do you think? Leave your answer in the comments... vick ...

Nehemiah 8:8
So they read in the book in the law of God distinctly, and gave the sense, and caused them to understand the reading.

The Introduction
LOVE MAKING SENSE: How It Began.

In the moment, I should have known I could not win this argument. There I sat, on the phone amid a baffling conversation about my love life with none other than the first woman I claimed I loved like no other, Lisa.

We, understanding Lisa was now married and not to me, were immersed in a dialogue about my current relationship, and how it seemed to be reaching a breaking point, as it had many times before. So she thought, and I knew.

To me, it all made perfect sense, though. I loved her, Melissa, and she loved me but needed some time to grow out of her childish ways. That’s when this story really began.

“She can’t love you, if she doesn’t understand love,” said Lisa, a hopeless romantic herself, in a fierce tone.

An accurate statement I couldn’t refute. If a person does not understand something, they couldn’t possibly do it or at least without fumbling through it mistake after mistake. Then Lisa said something slightly aloof.

“Damon, love doesn’t make sense,” she exclaimed.

I sat on my bed staring at a barren white wall, with a pause in my words, but a churn in my mind. What she just said didn’t make a lick of sense. How could love not make sense? I had heard the phrase 1000 times before. But how did anyone derive at this notion? I started thinking about a Bible verse I had recently skimmed over, 1 John 4:8.

It reads: He who does not love does not know God; for God is love.

Finally, I came back.

“Lisa, are you trying to say that God doesn’t make sense,” I questioned?

“What?”

“Think about it, God is Love,” I said with a smirk on my face knowing I’d soon trump her. “You’re saying love doesn’t make sense. Are you saying that God doesn’t make sense?”

She now sat silently.

Although Lisa never admitted that I crossed her up with that nugget of perplexing information, I knew that phrase “Love doesn’t make sense” would be carefully thought out before she next uttered it. At that moment, I knew I had stumbled upon something extraordinary, like an epiphany of sorts.

Over the next few days, a plethora of people besieged me, one way or another, with the notion, from their own thoughts and not my baiting, that love didn’t make sense. I rebutted with the “are you saying the Man upstairs doesn’t make sense” line. Each time, each opponent fell speechlessly by the wayside like a wounded duck.

I started thinking about how everything connected to God’s creation; The trees; The birds; The stripes on the shirts in my closet; The solid color of my socks; The whiteness of a piece of paper; the game of football; writing a book; The darkness of my skin; the song If This World We’re Mine. Everything had its purpose, and it all began to make sense to me through God’s eyes.

I brought the idea to a few people I trusted and a few I didn’t know, and their affirmation solidified my belief: Love Makes Sense. Now, I just had to figure out how it did and prove it to be truth. I mean, it is pretty hard to make sense of an intangible good that defies logic. But it’s definitely not impossible. What ensues is the core of what I’ve come to understand as the timeless essence of love.

Over time, I have discovered that Love is simple and easy, we just make it deep and hard. I began realizing our purpose is purported through the parables and analogies abound in the lives we lead. Like the film Love Actually said, "Love is all around us."

Weeks after the argument with Lisa and lots of introspective thought, I arrived at the decision to write this book and title it Love Makes Sense while walking out of a diner one evening with two of my most beloved friends from high school late one evening.

While talking, I thought “Love Makes Sense” would be the perfect fit. I explained how the initials aligned with the initials of my greatest example of tangible love I ever saw regularly, my grandfather, Lee Matt Smith. I thought that would be cool, a fitting tribute.

But then one of them blurted out, “You should title it Love Making Sense,” an obvious play on words. I liked it.

I did some research of specific tenses (stuff you forget after the sixth grade), thinking that if “Love Making Sense” read in the perfect tense, that would be the title. Wrong. It happened to be just the opposite, the imperfect. But I rationalized with myself. This book is to be about imperfection finding perfection. So the imperfect is becoming, plus, Love Making Sense sounds better that Love Made Sense.

I digress.

I'm no pastor or biblical scholar, just a man who stumbles upon his truth maybe a little earlier in life than expected. With the gifts bestowed upon me to think and write in a logical sense, this is my gift back to the world, a means of conceptualizing love in a multitude of forms, while understanding there is just one way.

This may seem like a befuddling way to perceive love. But at the same time, it puts life’s purpose in a unique perspective. Love Making Sense will deal with every type of relationship or love situation you can possibly imagine – loving oneself, male-female love, father to son, mother to daughter, the love of things. Also, this book will attempt to dispel the myths about what so many people consider love to be, but couldn’t possibly encompass.

But before we delve into the relationship aspect, we must first understand what and why love is.

Now, I’m sorry if you picked this title up thinking it would specifically speak to the idea of romantic love making sense. It actually will speak to it if you read into this right, and directly in later chapters and examples. Sorry, and I hope you still learn something.

There are potentially life-altering concepts to be unleashed, and hopefully you’ll find your definition of love somewhere throughout this reading process. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally be able to close the door on this argument with my so-called first love, Lisa.

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Sentence of the Day ...

Hands Down, well hopefully not.

The sentence is at the end of this dialogue, but it only makes sense if you read the first part of the story. From the story DJ Fired Over On-Air Remarks, from the AP:

NEW YORK (AP) -- The co-host of a syndicated morning radio show was fired Wednesday for making racial and sexual remarks on the air about a rival's wife and 4-year-old daughter.

Troi Torain, known as Star on the "Star & Buc Wild Morning Show" on Power 105 FM, lost his job after protests by a City Council member and other elected officials.
His remarks about DJ Envy, a DJ for rival hip-hop station Hot 97, and his family included "I will come for your kids" and a desire to "do an R. Kelly ... on your little baby girl."

*********
Videotapes in 2002 showed a man resembling singer R. Kelly having sex with someone who appeared to be an underage girl, then urinating on her.
*********

The bolded/underlined/italicized phrase is classic. I feel like whoever wrote this had to have seen the tape because .... well, because we all know its R. Kelly. It's something a blind mand could see.

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Summer Time Lockdown?

"Drums, please ... Summer, Summer, Summertime, Got to sit back and unwind ..."

So I thought spring time was the period where everybody got themselves together for the summer, and the soiree of flirting, mingling and prancing about the other sex. I thought wrong.

A few of my friends have gone into the May version of lover's row hibernation.

Seems as though John Lennon is about ready to give away his Black Daughter at the altar. Q-Boogie told me that she is mesmerized by some neosoul type character from Charlotte. Reports have it that PrettyTeeth is on lockdown as well. What is this world coming to now? Is this a sign of things to come?

All I know is that some of my best friends are dropping like flies in this love game, and I'm losing valuable conversation time, and I don't like it.

PrettyTeeth, well. He's on lock, but I did go and kick it with him and Ms. PrettyTeeth about a week ago, so that's cool. I'm used to late night dialogue with JLBD, and by late I mean just 11:30 or midnight. But now I don't even want to call because that dude might be there. Q-Boogie, my best friend since freshman year, well she has a full team of all-stars anyways. So with the addition of the Charlotte neosoul player, I'm just getting less and less phone tic coming my way from South Beach.

I just hope they don't lose touch with the people who have their backs, and they won't. So I guess I shouldn't be too upset. When I'm in hibernation love mode, I cake with the best of them. I disappear from the scene like Patrick Swayze in Ghost. In my first real college relationship, I'll admit, I didn't keep a balance in my life. It was all-time loving, no-time friending or rare-time hanging.

But the second one, things were different. I include my friends in a lot of the things I did. I still went to visit, and hang tough in the middle of the night. I'd even take Victoria with me sometimes.

Yet, I know I still have the tendency to go right into hibernation mode. Anytime I've had a special visitor in the last few years, I've pretty much been mute to my phone and it's been mute back. I know that habit has to change. I have to do a better job in the future, and I will. I'll show you.

I need to be like Wildcat-squared who, when her boyfriend calls, hands the phone to Wildcat-Squared momma so she can talk to him and get her fill of his day. (Yes, I'm clowning you again Wildcat-Squared)

I've realized that friends are extremely vital to a healthy relationship and a person's growth as an individual, and I know I can't let go of that aspect of life no matter what happens with me and some blessed young lady.

"It's like the summer's a natural Aphrodisiac." ~ Will Smith, Summertime

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An Interesting Survey

KEY: answer that first came to mind/answer I put some thought into.

I AM: old/ Who I am.
I WANT: happiness/a good wife and kids.
I NEED: happiness/ to write this book, Love Making Sense, and have it be well received.
I WISH: I could have happiness/ reverse the trend of negative hip hop and culture.
I HATE: hateful people/nothing.
I MISS: My grandparents, all four/the great late night conversations with my best friends from college.
I FEAR: nothing/ditto
I HEAR: cars moving/cars still moving while I’m typing
I WONDER: if I’ll ever find the one/ if I’ll be a good father
I REGRET: nothing/nothing.
I AM NOT: going to tell you what I regret/ that much of a metrosexual, actually.
I DANCE: to stepper’s music/ to stepping music around the house by myself all the time.
I SING: when no one is listening/ random lyrics to songs appropriate to the conversation I’m having.
I CRY: when the people I love most cry/ rarely.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: an asshole/ as together as it might seem.
I MAKE words/too many expressions WITH MY HANDS.
I WRITE: every single day/my way through this existence.
I CONFUSE: a lot of bad people with being good people/mayo and miracle whip, though I use neither
I NEED: God/ to do my assignment now.
I SHOULD: do my work right now/eat better than I did this weekend.
I START: every day by putting in my contacts/ most IM’s with “What’s Good?”
I FINISH: every day by telling the person I cherish most that I love them/sentences with periods.

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Remember the Names ...

I saw this on MySpace, and thought I'd do it. It makes for an interesting post considering I've been given two new nicknames (D. Scott Heron and The Screwdriver) in the last week. I can't believe I've been called, and responded to this many names.

Think back to all of the nicknames you have had and who gave them to you: Start from parents to friends and list your top ones, start with your real name: Here are mine!!

1. Damon Scott Jenkins (BORN)

2. Damon Scott Jenkins Smith(once claimed)

3. Lil' Lee (from father’s friends because I looked like him)

4. Lee Lee (Again from father’s friends)

5. Dee (a shortening of my name from friends)

6. Asshole (affectionately from my brother during our formative years as we fought daily)

7. GB (female friends in high school who thought that I had a ghetto booty. They had a song and everything)

8. d-man (old Boss Bill Norton and Jeff Douglas, fellow journalist)

9. Scott (myself, when I went to college and tried to change my name. didn’t work because I never responded)

10. dmansmi (my e-mail moniker, but everybody started calling me this after a while)

11. Dame (Jack Harry, a TV anchor in KC that I worked with during an internship)

12. D. Scott (my byline in college my after my sophomore year. Nicole W. came up with this one)

13. Vick Damone, Jr. (Kelvin, saying “What the fcuk is a Vick Damone?” over and over again)

14. The Cookie Monster (Double B, no explanation)

15. D-Bear (figure it out)

16. Victor (derived by Double B from Vick Damone, Jr.)

17. Damien (you don't want to know)

18. The Screwdriver (by Greg, while playing basketball because of what I aim at every time I shoot)

19. D. Scott Heron (from Ms. HeathClaire Huxtable, this one is my favorite right now)

You can refer to me as Dame, D. or Vic and I’ll be sure to respond. What’s your best one? Leave it in the comments!

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Wildcat-Squared Gone Wild

So Wildcat-squared has lost her mind. She's back in KC momentarily since her three-year law school hiatus in downtown Chicago has ended. You think with all that education coming to an end, she would finally screw things on straight? Nope. lol.

For the second time in three days she called in an evening hour trying to get me to meet her out somewhere. On Saturday night, she wanted me to meet her on the Plaza at 1 a.m. (I don't live in the Chi or NY so you don't leave to go out at 1 a.m.) Plus, I had already retired my duds for the night for some sweats. I was going nowhere but underneath my sheets for some shuteye.

She didn't understand this, and continued to badger me about how I needed to comeback out. Wasn't happening.

Fast forward to last night.

I get a phone call from her at about 9:45 p.m.

"Damon, meet me somewhere."

"I'll meet you at my house," I responded while already sitting comfortably on the couch in my living room watching VH1 Soul. Again, no exception to the rule. My chill clothes were on, I was going nowhere fast.

She didn't quite understand this. Wildcat-squared badgered me like a courtroom witness/accused for the next hour or so about why I should either meet her at her house or halfway.

"I bet you if I told you that (insert name of innocent crush here) were going to be here, you'd come," she said.

"Yeah, this is true. I'd be there in five minutes," I replied, knowing the drive to the BF-East KC would take 30. "Five hours later, I'll be there in five minutes. But she's not."

I didn't budge. Not one bit.

She resorted to name calling, and even got wildcat-squared momma into the mix. Finally, she came up with a feasible way to decide who would make the trek to see who.

"Let's play rock, paper, scissors."

I had never played the game over the phone, and didn't quite trust her. So I actually devised a plan to make it work.

"I'll type my answer on AIM , you walk away from your computer and tell what you choose, best of five," I said, knowing full well that if I lost I wouldn't leave. I just thought it would be fun to play over the phone/AIM.

But it's me. I didn't lose. I won my first ever game of Rock, Paper, Scissors on the Phone/Internet. Three games to two. That Northwestern Law School Education couldn't do much for her in that moment of common sense (lol). She shunned off my award, though, just as I would have her. Wildcat-Squared punked out.

Honestly, it's what I expected. Like I said, we're in KC, not NY.

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Love Making Sense: No Fear In Love

(Editor's Note: Don't forget this is an ongoing series in preparation for this book I'm writing Love Making Sense. You can look back a few posts to play catch up on this dialogue.)

One day a co-worker brought his six-month-old daughter to the office for about 30 minutes. He sat Tess on his desk, and the barrage immediately began. She had a set of piercing deep blue eyes, and continually stared at everyone who came near her with curiosity. Within minutes, half of the office was in Tess' face at once.

I began thinking to myself, she's certainly not scared of us because she keeps staring and everyone kept talking about how beautiful her eyes were.

Now, she won't be able to do that in about six years - the "don't talk to strangers" age, and understandably so - because her parents and society will teach her that gazing/staring is not proper etiquette. But while she's an unknowing baby, and there are no consequences, she gets away with it. In turn, she shutdown the paper's southside , no not Chicago still KC, office for a half hour.

Now, I'm not giving you the advice to start staring at people in public without pause to see if you'll get their attention for 30 minutes. You will, just likely not in a way that you want.

But this is meant to understand this idea of "No Fear In Love." Tess had no fear of the people before her (most babies only fear being away from their parents). So with her father there, she thrived in that situation.

Have you ever had a moment where you could feel someone's presence on you in public, kind of like they were looking at you and trying to get your attention? It's happened to me, rarely in a negative way, and I know I do it to people as well.

Did you end up politely speaking to someone you never thought you'd talk to or end up an engaging conversation that you didn't think possible? That's a frequent occurrence for people who drive out fear and encompass the true meaning of love, giving in every situation, as often as possible.

I remember standing in line for a plane about a year ago coming back from Miami, and having a conversation with a man that last three hours throughout our flight back to Kansas City. We talked about his ex-wife, his children, his new relationship, this book I'm writing, God and where He belonged in our hearts and so much more. It all began because I wasn't scared to approach him and he wasn't afraid to start a conversation with someone new. And yes, we were two people alone in an airport. That tends to drive the fear out considering the security in airports these days.

That has happened several times or so it seems.

That's how we make friends, by driving out fear and believing (trusting) in other people. That's when we perfect this thing we call love. These ideas are rooted throughout the Bible (in the Gospels and in 1 John 4:18, which literally says "perfect love casts out fear").

I'll get to the biblical aspect of how the Gospels and 1 John 4:18 correlate. It's a powerful concept, and one we all should grasp in life. If I did it now, though, it would make this entry about twice as long as it is now.

For now, though, just think about how unafraid you were of things/people in life when you were age six because you didn't know any better. You lived a care-free life. Now, think about your fears today, and how much of that is predicated off of what you know and have learned in your years of life plus the first six.

Doesn't that just make you wish Adam wouldn't have desired to be omniscient, and didn't take bite of the forbidden fruit? We'd all be walking around not knowing what it meant to be naked, obese, skinny, ugly, vertically challenged, etc.

Yeah, thanks Adam. Thanks.

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Take That, Take That, Take That ...

"It moisturizes my situation. It preserves my sexy, and then I'm back to doing what I've got to do." ~ Sean "Puffy" Combs, Proactiv.

I've never needed serious acne treatment. I went through a stage in high school were I got pimples every now and then. But I can tell you now, if I had seen this advertisement for Proactiv in 1997, I woulda been all over it.

These are genuine words coming from the one and only Puffy (I refuse to call him Diddy), and make you wonder how great this stuff can be.

Okay, I'm being facetious. This is the most ignorant 30 seconds of an informercial I've ever seen, and I've seen it too many times. It's gotten to the point to where if it comes on, I must wait for Puffy to say these specific words. Forget Vanessa Williams and Alicia Keys. Puffy is the superstar of this advertisement because of his ignorant choice of words.

Honestly, we need more ignorance like this in commercials. Then, maybe, I wouldn't TiVo everything and skip through the commercials. (BTW, did you here there supposed to be making digital video recording boxes in the future that force you to watch the commercials? Losers).

And if you don't understand the title, rent or watch Jamie Foxx's I Might Need Security and watch the parody on Puffy and Jennifer Lopez.

"A J.Lo ... I remember back on In Living Color when it was just 'Hey, hey, Ho, hey Ho.'" ~ Jamie Foxx

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Love Making Sense: The Concept, The Reflection

Michael Jackson was not that crazy ... back in 1988. Okay, the king of pop popped off the deep end when he held his child over a balcony. He definitely left the building when Ed Bradley interviewed him on 60 Minutes (and subsquently looked at him as though he were insane per Michael's responses).

Okay, he was gone before '88 when he started his friendship with Emmanuel Lewis and the animals. But in '88, when he dropped the Bad album, Jackson held his own and his brain together for at least five minutes.

I'll say that for one reason only, the song Man in the Mirror. These words changed lives, and they embody where this story begins and ends. I'm not going to post all of the lyrics, but here's a link (click here). Here's the chorus:

I'm Starting With The Man InThe Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways
And No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself, AndThen Make A Change

This is where I found myself, in my reflection. Remember that poem I wrote entitled A Struggle From Within? That's me explaining how I found myself.

Most of us think our struggle in this world is with outside forces, but it's really from within ourselves. No one makes you put down or wane off of the cigarette, beer, cheeseburger and shake or extra-marital affair but you. People help you along the way, but you make the decision yourself solely.

It's that process that causes these struggles from within.

It's when you realize that no one can create growth or change, how ever you perceive it, for you but yourself that you start the honest inventory of your character within. You change your ways when you see that your biggest problem, more often than not, is the reflection looking back at you in the mirror.

It makes you wonder if that angel and devil versions of you over your shoulders really do exist? When you look at your reflection or within, you should definitely see the angel, and his or her ways. (This is just a random joke, but I don't know who or what Michael Jackson sees when he looks in the mirror now.)

Need proof? Within the first chapters of Genesis, it says that God created man in his own image. Some versions say God created man in his own likeness or reflection (I'll explain this later, it's pretty deep). Flip a few hundred pages ahead to 1 Corinthians, Chapter 13 (The chapter of love):

11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I gave up childish ways. 12 For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood.

I don't know if you find that to be lifting, but I do. It says that when you find yourself, you'll be able to see the reflection of yourself clearly and give up childish (or selfish) ways - and start giving of yourself as is expected. That's extremely powerful.

Now, back to Michael. I'm hoping he has put up his childish things finally. But who knows. All we can do is pray and hope that he again finds the Man in the Mirror, as we start that same search.

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Love Making Sense: The Concept, Giving

So yesterday, I cracked the door open to Love Making Sense. Today, I'm going to open it a little more. In my last post, I simply said Love Makes Sense. Today, I'm actually going to start trying to prove it.

(I'm writing my Cliff's notes version of this book on here - which means very few analogies just concepts - over the course of the next couple of weeks to kind of prep myself)

There are plenty of people, Christian and not, who would say that what Christ didn't make much sense. The Man allowed himself to be tortured, humilified and crucified even though he could have stopped it all at any moment, according to the way the Gospels were written. But when he said enough was enough (It's finished), he did so on his own accord, and apparently so that we might actually know life.

Believe the story or not, that's love in it's most pure form - a person giving up their life for someone else when they don't have to. Another way of wording it - a person freely giving of themselves.

The blueprint for this love, and any other form of love you can think of, is in 1 Corinthians, Chapter 13 where love is freely interchanged with the word charity in different versions of the Bible. Think about what we deem as charity in today's world - giving freely to those in need.

It could be giving to your wife, girlfriend, mother, father, brother or sister, son or daughter, friend or foe, the post or milk man. But that's the first aspect of it, to give. Giving is the thing that bring about gratification. (I might get into the other aspects at a later time, but for today this is enough)

In this sense, it's quite ironic that people put so much weight into this idea of self-love. Lesson No. 2: At its core, love is not about self. That's the biggest oxymoron I've ever heard, and sometimes I even have to correct myself of this. I find myself at times giving friends this advice. But Selfishness or self-love is the exact opposite of what love (charity) actually is.

I think it's humorous to hear someone say, "You've gotta love yourself first." Think about it. If love is about giving to others, how is giving to yourself love? It's an interesting way thinking about it. I believe the proper thing to say is "You have to know yourself first before you start loving."

But knowing/finding yourself and where (in the reflection of your own cross) is a topic for tomorrow or the next day (I think I may right about something random later today or tomorrow like about Puffy (I refuse to call him P.Diddy) and his Proactiv commercial). Just know that finding yourself is the most important part of this whole Love Making Sense dialogue. If Christ didn't find himself, we would be a bunch of lost souls with no reason to live or die.

If you can't find yourself, you can't truly give love the way it's meant to be received or appreciate the depths of it.

Anyway, know that this is just what I believe, and I don't expect to start a cult or think you should bow down to my belief. I'm opened-minded to what you think/believe. Drop me a line, and tell me what you think love is/is not.

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Understanding YRUN2DP?

It simply stands for "why are you in too deep?"

It's a reminder to myself during the tough times to not think too hard, and to understand that the bad times will get better.

It's also what I'm going to have on the plates of my next vehicle. When people look at it, it reads "why run to D P?" Which doesn't make sense. They're thinking too hard, which means they're in too deep.

But that's not what this post is about. This entry is meant to explain this blog's purpose. I'm about to embark on this journey that I started about a year and a half ago. I know you're wondering how I started the journey that long ago, and haven't gone anywhere. Well, I've been too busy and consumed with other aspects of life, some good and some bad, to sit down and write a book about love's true meaning.

This blog has helped produce, re-create and fine tune my voice over the last several months. It has served as a vehicle for my emotions, thoughts and life. I think I owe this whole song writing trip I've been on to this blog, and the fact that I've been writing what I want to write how I want to write it since October when I started this blog, and it's progressively gotten better. I still love writing stories for the paper. But it's not the same thing because there's structure involved.

Now, though, it's time to really start writing. No, I'm not going to stop blogging. But I'm going to concentrate my efforts on this book.

What's it about? I'm glad you asked.

Some of you know already per conversations that we've had. It's titled Love Making Sense, and it's not completely what you think though the title suggests the obvious.

Have you ever been in a conversation where some says "Love doesn't make sense," and you actually agree? I've been there before time and again. One day, though, I actually started thinking about this verse in 1 John, Chapter 4. Specifically the end of Verse 8. It reads: God is Love.

I started thinking to myself: "Does God not make sense?"

That couldn't possibly be true. From that moment, I was destined to make sense of this Truth we know as Love. Love is Making Sense all around us (okay, that's a steal from Love Actually, but it's real). I'm going to prove it.

Whenever someone has dared to say "Love doesn't make sense" over the course of the last few years, I've retorted, "Are you saying God doesn't make sense?" It's a befuddling way to look at things; it puts life and the real meaning of love in perspective.

Anyway, I'm not going too far into detail because I'm not going to lose you. All I'm gonna say is that it deals with every type of relationship you can imagine including male-female, the love of things, sin, selfishness and finding yourself in your own reflection.

There are some deep concepts I'm going to try to unleash, and I can't wait to get started. I'm actually giddy right now.

So you ask, why am I in too deep(YRUN2DP?)? Because I believe in Love.

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Earl Woods, A Good Man

Tiger Woods' father Earl Woods died today. He was everything a father should be and then some. His son called him his best friend. I can't imagine what Tiger is going through, but I must say, he had a man who loved him the way a father should love a son. These are my respects.

http://sports.espn.go.com/golf/news/story?id=2431912

Father, I Forgive You
Written by DAMON SMITH

So this story began
with a boy telling his son
He needed a man to be a man
Now, understand the logic, I could
But I misunderstood just what would
really make me
Never knew it would be you
who would forsake me
and take me
to the depths of hate
I never knew.

(Chorus)
I don’t know who to blame,
Some days I wish I couldn’t claim, you
You’re the one to fault
You’re the cause of so much grief,
Living without you is such a relief
But Father, I Forgive You per default

I wish that I could know you
I wish I could grow with you
But you wouldn’t have it that way
Father I forgive you,
I’ve learned to love and live, too
So things have turned out okay.

Your story proved to be untrue
You couldn't really reach me
when you never truly practiced
what you tried to teach me:
"Don't go through people,Go straight to the source."
But when you came at me,you were the one who came off course,
Of course, what more would you expectfrom lesser men,
the type quick to put himself beforehis next of kin?

(Chorus)
I don’t know who to blame,
Some days I wish I couldn’t claim, you
You’re the one to fault
You’re the cause of so much grief,
Living without you is such a relief
But Father, I Forgive You by default

I wish that I could know you
I wish I could grow with you
But you wouldn’t have it that way
Father I forgive you,
I’ve learned to love and live, too
So things have turned out okay.

(hook)
Even if you don’t apologize,
I forgive you
Even with all we’ve been through
Father, I forgive you

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Getting Off Waivers ...

Riding with Broham Rmattwill to the a local bar for the Heat-Bulls Game (D-Dub and the Heat won) I hooked up the i-Pod to his system.

I left my phone in the house, so as we pulled off, we had to immediately turn around so i could grab it. When I came back out, he was listening to an "old school" (somehow mid-90s isn't quite old to me yet) song. It was Lo-Key's Sweet On U.

So you don't know who that is? It's all about that Kansas City baby (though they were originally from Minnesota, they had some KC connection). The folks from the City should know what I'm talking about. Rmattwill didn't quite pick up on this one either. But I fast forwarded two tracks, and low and behold, there was another Lo-Key track, the more prominent I Got A Thang 4 Ya.

Rmattwill's head immediately started bobbing, and he began singing along. He remembered from his youth. In that moment, I was a proud older brother for a moment.

Fast Forward. We got to the Grandfalloon. Miss Summers, who I hadn't seen in a good eight months, met us there, and we had a blasted munching on Nachos, Maker's & Coke, etc. I forgot my camera, as usual.

We started talking about my new crush and how I had kicked it with her a few times before last year and before then. I asked Rmattwill if he remembered her at all. His response:

"Damon, you didn't talk to me last summer."

"My bad. I forgot," I replied.

"Yeah, I was pretty much riding the bench then," he said.

"The bench? Dude, I spent the whole year on waivers," I came back.

We both laughed hysterically, and gave the black man's high-five bka the hand pound.

I guess it's safe to say that I do have my swagger back. Coach has re-entered me into the starting line-up, and I'm refusing to come out. Twenty and 10 every night out. Guaranteed like Kobe's game-winner on Sunday against the Suns.

You sick of the sports analogies? I've got about 2,500 locked up in the closet. But I'll leave them there. I'll holler at you tomorrow. Until then, just know that "I ain't mad at cha."

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An E-mail to JB ...

My boy JB says he's writing a book about black relationships, and asked for a little feedback on the idea of the pseudo-relationship. Here's what I sent him ...

JB,
What's good ... I saw the post, and I thought I'd chime in for a second on the pseudo-relationship game. I think it's prevalent in the black community, but I also think it's just a current trend in life that everybody - white, blacks, latinos, everybody - is kind of hip to for some reason.

Not too many people want the real commitment that our grandparents gave in the 1950s, and those that do, as you've seen, get stuck with those who won't really commit.

While I don't think it's a horrible idea to be involved in a pseudo-relationship, I think it's not the smartest route. (Then again, maybe it's a sin because it is idleness.)

The pseudo-relationship allows you to date more than one person at once, and kind of play the field with doing too much credibility damage to yourself. (But in the end, most times you do damage, and hurt others in the process.)

But the thing we forget is that we are creatures of habit.

Remember back in the day, hearing that jargon about how the things we did, were taught and saw as infants and toddlers would affect us throughout our natural life? It's true. Same goes with adolescence and high school. So much of that has set the foundation for who we are as people today.

But that trend doesn't really stop. If you involve yourself in a pseudo-relationship, that is what becomes natural and what becomes habit, and as we all know, habits, like a drug they are, are hard to break.

In all, I think this is a trend that perpetuates this whole idea of the single-parent home, which hasn't been going over all that well over the course of the last 30 years or so. So that's not a positive.

I'm not sure there's a way to reverse this trend, but I think what might work is the idea of people actually having family values and relationship morals instilled in them during their youth.
Then maybe, even in high school and college, people will cherish the idea of relationship, minus the pseudo precursor.

But like I said, I'm not sure the trend can be reversed. This is a snowballing avalanche, and if you understand the dynamic of the situation, you just need to get out of the way, and don't get caught up in a situation like the aforementioned. Anyway, it's been real.

Peace,
D. Scott

If you have thoughts about this topic, I'd love to hear them leave a comment below ...

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I Vow To You ...

I promised you the best of what I've written. No bragging, but this is it. I hope you enjoy ... I think I'm actually going to buy a keyboard tonight.

I Vow To You
Written by DAMON SMITH © 2006

On this day, I pray that you
will cherish me for who I am
Forever more
I can't believe this is happening
You chose me to be your lamb
And It's you I adore
Now, grace us with your smile
Take your time and slowly walk that aisle
I can't wait until you're headed this way
So I can lift up your vail
Love, He told me we can't fail
So there are a few things I must say

(Chorus)
I'll love you the way, He loved the church
For with you, I know I've had a rebirth
Now over, is that lengthy but worthwhile search
I thank you for this moment of clarity
With my deepest gratitude and sincerity,
I vow to you my most excellent charity
My life, I lay it on the line
Believing in you through the test of time
Joy I will never cease to bring
I vow to you these things

Love, there's no reason to get nervous
What we're doing here today has its purpose
Just relax, and live in this love
Telling me what's on your heart
You know from you I could never part
It's you I place no one above
That smile I love is on your face
Your words are full of eternal grace
I'm glad you are here to stay
Now open up your soul
Go ahead, give me control
But first, there are a few things I must say

(Chorus)
I'll love you the way, He loved the church
For with you, I know I've had a rebirth
Now over, is that lengthy but worthwhile search
I thank you for this moment of clarity
With my deepest gratitude and sincerity,
I vow to you my most excellent charity
My life, I lay it on the line
Believing in you through the test of time
Joy to you I will always bring
I vow to you these things

(Hook)
I'll be patient
I'll be kind
Cherishing you
til the end of time
I will bear all things, I'll believe all things
I will hope all things, I'll endure all things
I've put away my childish being
So joy, to you, I will always bring
I believe you can already tell
In this love we have, we will not fail

Chorus to fade ...

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"Well, I Guess I've Got My Swagger Back"

So for some odd reason, the song writing didn't stop for a while last night. In all, I wrote eight songs between last night and this morning about a variety of topics dealing with love - watching old movies, wedding vows, the certainty of the one, pain caused by those we love most, etc.

This is some sort of epiphany, I know. I've been waiting for this for a while, and I think I know why it's come now. I'm definitely not going to post them all, but I think I'm going to try and do something with them.

This is one of my favorites because it's current to what I'm kinda feeling right now. I'm going to post the one I cherish the most a little later, and yes they will soon be copyrighted.

Thinking of You
By DAMON SMITH

It may have just been days ago
That we really met
But off of my feet,
Is where I’ve been swept
Already I can see the depths, of you
Lead to the Truth
So I have no reason
to be scared nor confused
Your words, your smile
Beguile my heart, they do
So many amazing thoughts for me
to insatiably muse through

(Chorus)
I’ll be thinking of you
When I wake,
In the morn, I'm thinking of you

I’ll be thinking of you
When I take,
My last breath, I'll be thinking of you

At night before I sleep
In that same moment,
I just hope you’re thinking of me, too.
(Repeat)

Constantly, in my mind you are
It’s like your words knew where to start
I didn’t want to give away this secret
I don’t fall this fast, this frequent-ly
My soul is immersed with your being
Could this be true, what I’m believing?
One question hearken my soul every time I pray
Could you be my missing rib molded from God’s clay?

(Chorus)
I’ll be thinking of you
When I wake,
In the morn, I'm thinking of you

I’ll be thinking of you
When I take,
My last breath, I'll be thinking of you

At night before I sleep
In that same moment,
I just hope you’re thinking of me, too.
(Repeat)

(bridge)
I have no clue where this is going
don't know if we'll stay grounded
or fly high like a Boeing
I just know I can't keep myself from showing
you how I feel, just want things to keep flowing ...

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