I walked into the bar, running late because of an argument with my second wife. If things continue down this path, she'll be my second ex-wife. I'm fuming at my lack of competence in the relationship category. I am running another relationship into the ground and while my dad was only in my life part-time, I've managed to pick up all of his character traits when it comes to women. The only difference is I decided to marry the women I cheated on, a failed attempt of separating myself from my father's womanizing past. But Abram Gray, my father is who he is, and I am him. It's pretty funny: I, the college educated son have never been able to stay in a committed relationship and my ex-convict, half brother is the most loyal husband/friend/person I've ever known.
Now I was staring at the menu but none of the words were registering. Being a bi-racial child growing up in an almost all white school was difficult enough. Not having my dad in the home with me made things even worse. My mom wouldn't give another black man the time of day, so I was stuck with these white men playing part-time father figure to me, but really just trying to sleep with my mom. They would never understand how it was to be black (when you're half black, everyone just calls you black, so you're black) just like I'd never understand why my mother's face would light up when she saw my dad. He'd make an excuse for why he didn't come and pick me up on time and she would just eat it up. She couldn't stand to speak his name when he wasn't around, but when she was in his presence, she was in his web and she wanted to be there. They seem to have a true connection and I always wanted them back together. I'm sure Warrick felt the same when dad went to visit his mom.
"Bart, what will you have today?" Anne is our Sunday server who gently interrupts our bickering to ask if we'd like another drink and never keeps us waiting. She's like an extension of our family on Sundays.
I stared at my dad and listened to he and Warrick talk about the NFL preseason and if it matters or not. I didn't have much input. I wanted his input on why he was such a flawed man. I wanted to know who we had to blame for our ineptitude. If he could pinpoint his dad, or great-granddad like I can pinpoint him, I'd feel a sense of relief in not hating him as much as I do right now.
Maybe it's just a men thing. Maybe a human thing. Maybe marriage is just obsolete. Maybe with the likes of LeBron James and Dwight Howard deciding that they'd rather jump ship than right their current one, that, the sports world is reflecting what's happening in regular people's lives as well. The allure of something better will always be present, lurking in every magazine, every awards show and every porn site. That goes for men and women alike. Women see Kim Kardashian and Jennifer Lopez seamlessly transition from relationship to relationship with the gracefulness of Gabby Douglas probably think it isn't that bad to be single again. Love is hard work and in the times of fast food and DVRs where we can even fast forward through commercials, who wants to put in the time to work on a relationship?
I wanted to ask my dad all of these questions, but I didn't know how to tackle the subject. I haven't built up the courage yet. Maybe next Sunday.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Sunday, August 19, 2012
The Problems With Politics
As I walked into the restaurant my dad was already there shaking his head in disgust.
"Bart, these people are out of their mind," he said in an exhausted sigh. "This uh, Dave Mustaine (Saying the name aloud for the first time) from this group called Megadeth said that Obama staged those shootings in Colorado and at the Sikh Temple so he could crack down on gun control. I'm not saying he has to like the guy, but don't go spreading that type of propaganda."
"Yeah, I saw that shit." Warrick ran into the restaurant late (As usual). "It is pure racism and disrespect of the presidential office. You got that lady in Arizona putting her finger in Obama's face, that clown yelling out while he's giving a speech and a bunch of coded word racism on Fox News on a nightly basis."
"Why is this allowed?" I asked my dad. "Why are they able to get away with these type politics?" I asked again, becoming impatient for a reply. "Well," He took a deep breath "This is nothing new in politics. Fear is what seems to resonate most with the public. There are many that fight against change. Everything from slavery to civil rights of blacks and women to gay and lesbian rights. Immigration. It's always something. And after their "We've always done it this way" message starts to be ignored, they recite the constitution and even the Bible when it helps them make their point."
"They are afraid of change," I chimed in, not sure what my next point would be. "There has always been talk of change, with the democrat nominees taking the black vote for granted. I understand that I have been the beneficiary of the white side of my family. My mom's family has introduced perspectives that I've never gotten in all the summers and weekends spent with your mom, Warrick, or any of dad's family. Black people don't always understand the principle of teaching a man how to fish. Give a man a fish and he eats for a day, but teach a man to fish and he can eat for a lifetime. The black side of my family wants credit for every little thing they've done and hardly ever wants to share information and resources," Warrick shook his head but didn't have enough to prove me wrong. "The white side of my family taught me to share resources and by sharing what you have, that encourages sharing amongst everyone. I had a black friend of mine who'd help me with tying my tie every Tuesday and Friday. We had to wear a tie on "game days" in high school," Dad seemed sad while I mentioned this, because he knew he wasn't there much for me. "One Tuesday my friend wasn't there and I didn't know what to do about my tie so I asked one of the white dudes in my first hour class. He said, 'Let me show you how to tie it.' That was when I truly started to recognize the differences between us."
"All I know is regardless of color," I guess Warrick felt like he'd been quiet long enough, "Rich folks don't care about any of us. Brown, black or poor whites. The bottom line is this: Make money and don't depend on the government to take care of you. The problem for people like me who have felonies, is they only give us one option. Well maybe two...either start your own business or get your money illegally. That is why so many black and brown folks want to become rappers. Our backs are against the wall."
At this point dad stepped in, "There are more options on the table," typically having an answer to what seemed like every question we've ever asked, he seemed to be at a lost for words, "Obama is trying to help out everyone..." Ole Abe was stumped.
"President Obama showed that change can actually happen in American politics," I came off the bench to help the old man out. "Presidents have been trying to get free healthcare for everyone for years, Since Harry Truman, but Obama was the only one to actually pull it off," I used my "ace in the hole," which is Obamacare.
"Obama actually gave me hope," Warrick was setting up his point, "When he talked about passing healthcare for everyone and then actually delivered, that was awesome. But as soon as the republicans realized he was actually trying to make a difference, they went into total shutdown mode. God forbid some things actually get done in Washington. I think politicians believed we as the voters would start asking for them to deliver on all of their promises. We went from 'Yes we can' to 'Under no circumstances will we let you'. It's all about them keeping their funders happy and trying to keep their spots in the senate and congress. It ain't about the people."
"There are about eight or nine political parties in France. The amount of money funding the republicans and dems here in America don't allow any other parties to have a fighting chance at winning office," My dad was back! "Nobody with a real chance of winning an office goes too far outside of the standard platform's stances on issues. They try to fit us in a box and most of us have some conservative and liberal views. Liberals are becoming more moderate and appearing more extreme because the republican party is so far right. Democrats are not innocent in these matters. They have their big business backers as well. The amount these millionaires pay to support their candidates could be used to hire folks and help this awful economy." Dad seemed frustrated after hearing his words aloud.
"The Tigers should change their names to the Detroit Tigers Threaten But Do Not Score," I was murmuring to myself as my hometown team ruined another scoring opportunity.
"I wonder how much they could get if they traded Miggy," Warrick pondered while trying to help me change the subject.
"Trade Miggy? Dad took the bait (Maybe he was done with the subject himself). He'll go down as one of the best hitters in MLB history. For a player so great you'd never get fair trade value."
"Austin Jackson and Verlander will be due big contracts and they can't pay everyone," The conversation never ends. And for the rest of the afternoon we talked about Pistons, Tigers and Lions. No more politics that day. I think all three of us felt defeated in a way after assessing the future of our great country. There seems to be so many issues and nobody in Washington seems terribly interested in working on any of them. I guess we can tackle that again another day.
"Bart, these people are out of their mind," he said in an exhausted sigh. "This uh, Dave Mustaine (Saying the name aloud for the first time) from this group called Megadeth said that Obama staged those shootings in Colorado and at the Sikh Temple so he could crack down on gun control. I'm not saying he has to like the guy, but don't go spreading that type of propaganda."
"Yeah, I saw that shit." Warrick ran into the restaurant late (As usual). "It is pure racism and disrespect of the presidential office. You got that lady in Arizona putting her finger in Obama's face, that clown yelling out while he's giving a speech and a bunch of coded word racism on Fox News on a nightly basis."
"Why is this allowed?" I asked my dad. "Why are they able to get away with these type politics?" I asked again, becoming impatient for a reply. "Well," He took a deep breath "This is nothing new in politics. Fear is what seems to resonate most with the public. There are many that fight against change. Everything from slavery to civil rights of blacks and women to gay and lesbian rights. Immigration. It's always something. And after their "We've always done it this way" message starts to be ignored, they recite the constitution and even the Bible when it helps them make their point."
"They are afraid of change," I chimed in, not sure what my next point would be. "There has always been talk of change, with the democrat nominees taking the black vote for granted. I understand that I have been the beneficiary of the white side of my family. My mom's family has introduced perspectives that I've never gotten in all the summers and weekends spent with your mom, Warrick, or any of dad's family. Black people don't always understand the principle of teaching a man how to fish. Give a man a fish and he eats for a day, but teach a man to fish and he can eat for a lifetime. The black side of my family wants credit for every little thing they've done and hardly ever wants to share information and resources," Warrick shook his head but didn't have enough to prove me wrong. "The white side of my family taught me to share resources and by sharing what you have, that encourages sharing amongst everyone. I had a black friend of mine who'd help me with tying my tie every Tuesday and Friday. We had to wear a tie on "game days" in high school," Dad seemed sad while I mentioned this, because he knew he wasn't there much for me. "One Tuesday my friend wasn't there and I didn't know what to do about my tie so I asked one of the white dudes in my first hour class. He said, 'Let me show you how to tie it.' That was when I truly started to recognize the differences between us."
"All I know is regardless of color," I guess Warrick felt like he'd been quiet long enough, "Rich folks don't care about any of us. Brown, black or poor whites. The bottom line is this: Make money and don't depend on the government to take care of you. The problem for people like me who have felonies, is they only give us one option. Well maybe two...either start your own business or get your money illegally. That is why so many black and brown folks want to become rappers. Our backs are against the wall."
At this point dad stepped in, "There are more options on the table," typically having an answer to what seemed like every question we've ever asked, he seemed to be at a lost for words, "Obama is trying to help out everyone..." Ole Abe was stumped.
"President Obama showed that change can actually happen in American politics," I came off the bench to help the old man out. "Presidents have been trying to get free healthcare for everyone for years, Since Harry Truman, but Obama was the only one to actually pull it off," I used my "ace in the hole," which is Obamacare.
"Obama actually gave me hope," Warrick was setting up his point, "When he talked about passing healthcare for everyone and then actually delivered, that was awesome. But as soon as the republicans realized he was actually trying to make a difference, they went into total shutdown mode. God forbid some things actually get done in Washington. I think politicians believed we as the voters would start asking for them to deliver on all of their promises. We went from 'Yes we can' to 'Under no circumstances will we let you'. It's all about them keeping their funders happy and trying to keep their spots in the senate and congress. It ain't about the people."
"There are about eight or nine political parties in France. The amount of money funding the republicans and dems here in America don't allow any other parties to have a fighting chance at winning office," My dad was back! "Nobody with a real chance of winning an office goes too far outside of the standard platform's stances on issues. They try to fit us in a box and most of us have some conservative and liberal views. Liberals are becoming more moderate and appearing more extreme because the republican party is so far right. Democrats are not innocent in these matters. They have their big business backers as well. The amount these millionaires pay to support their candidates could be used to hire folks and help this awful economy." Dad seemed frustrated after hearing his words aloud.
"The Tigers should change their names to the Detroit Tigers Threaten But Do Not Score," I was murmuring to myself as my hometown team ruined another scoring opportunity.
"I wonder how much they could get if they traded Miggy," Warrick pondered while trying to help me change the subject.
"Trade Miggy? Dad took the bait (Maybe he was done with the subject himself). He'll go down as one of the best hitters in MLB history. For a player so great you'd never get fair trade value."
"Austin Jackson and Verlander will be due big contracts and they can't pay everyone," The conversation never ends. And for the rest of the afternoon we talked about Pistons, Tigers and Lions. No more politics that day. I think all three of us felt defeated in a way after assessing the future of our great country. There seems to be so many issues and nobody in Washington seems terribly interested in working on any of them. I guess we can tackle that again another day.
Monday, August 13, 2012
The Redeem Team
"LeBron is the truth! Bart, did you get a chance to watch the gold medal game?" Warrick always hoped that I'd find my love for basketball again. That was the only thing we had in common growing up. Once our moms realized that their "man" had another young child, they figured it didn't make sense keeping us apart because our dad was a cheat.
We didn't have much in common but basketball, so we'd play and play all day long. There was a gym not too far from my house in Bloomfield and there was a church around the corner from Warrick's house on Southfield and Fenkell. The church allowed all of the neighborhood kids to play at the gym. There was always something going on in the church like bible study or some type of marriage counseling so we took advantage.
Now we are adults without anything in common, but our old man, Abe. Abram Gray is our dad and he demands that we spend Sundays after church with him. Sometimes we eat breakfast, sometimes lunch, sometimes we have a beer, sometimes many beers. But we are always in front of a television watching sports. And slowly but surely, I'm starting to get used to this Sunday get-together: Even though all we do is argue.
"LeBron James is the best player ever," Warrick attempted to start our first argument of the day. "The Redeem Team. LeBron and the other guys have brought the gold back for the second time in the last two Olympics."
"Redeem team?" My dad turned his nose up at both of us (Even though I didn't say anything). "The real redeem team was Tommie Smith and John Carlos...the gold and bronze medal winners of the 200 meter race in 1968."
"What did they do?" Warrick asked.
"Well son, 1968 was during the time of the civil rights movement"
"Oh, like Martin Luther King?"
"Just be quiet and listen. Us black folks were used to America asking us to do things to represent our country like fighting in wars and running in the Olympics even though we were treated like second-class citizens at home. Because of the movement that was going on there were grumblings that the blacks would boycott the games, because even though laws were starting to change, the white people still looked down on us and things weren't completely even. When Tommie and John stood on the podium for the medal ceremony, they both raised fists in the air with black gloves on: Representing black power and unity."
"I'm sure that didn't go over real well, huh?" My attention was undivided.
"There were suspended by their team and kicked out of Olympic Village, where all of the Olympians stayed during the games. Their demonstration had already made headlines all over the world and it gave us back home so much pride. Even the Australian silver medalist participated by wearing an Olympic Project for Human Rights badge to the ceremony. Right is right and wrong is wrong and the entire world knew how hypocritical America was being."
"And us black people still fighting for our rights," Warrick added. We ain't gon' never be truly free in this country. They sent me to jail for a crime I didn't commit and then when I get home they tell me I can't vote for my president. What type of shit is that? They wouldn't let me take phone calls, get a job, or have any rec time in there."
"That was because of your poor behavior," I couldn't stand listening anymore. "You went in there acting a fool!"
"Bro, you don't know how it is in there." His tone was serious. "There's no such thing as good behavior when you first go in. They treat you like an animal: Degrading you, telling you that you'll never amount to anything. And the ones that did get to leave, they were telling them 'Oh, you'll be back.' And those were the guards!"
He started to tear up, "You don't come out of there the same as you went in," his voiced trailed off. "You're never the same."
While my half-brother spent four years in prison, I was getting first bachelors degree in leadership development. While he spend the next 3 years reporting to his parole officer and peeing in a cup, I was finishing up my MBA and marrying my first wife. When I was caught cheating she divorced me and took over my 3 pizza and chicken restaurants. I guess like father, like son.
We didn't have much in common but basketball, so we'd play and play all day long. There was a gym not too far from my house in Bloomfield and there was a church around the corner from Warrick's house on Southfield and Fenkell. The church allowed all of the neighborhood kids to play at the gym. There was always something going on in the church like bible study or some type of marriage counseling so we took advantage.
Now we are adults without anything in common, but our old man, Abe. Abram Gray is our dad and he demands that we spend Sundays after church with him. Sometimes we eat breakfast, sometimes lunch, sometimes we have a beer, sometimes many beers. But we are always in front of a television watching sports. And slowly but surely, I'm starting to get used to this Sunday get-together: Even though all we do is argue.
"LeBron James is the best player ever," Warrick attempted to start our first argument of the day. "The Redeem Team. LeBron and the other guys have brought the gold back for the second time in the last two Olympics."
"Redeem team?" My dad turned his nose up at both of us (Even though I didn't say anything). "The real redeem team was Tommie Smith and John Carlos...the gold and bronze medal winners of the 200 meter race in 1968."
"What did they do?" Warrick asked.
"Well son, 1968 was during the time of the civil rights movement"
"Oh, like Martin Luther King?"
"Just be quiet and listen. Us black folks were used to America asking us to do things to represent our country like fighting in wars and running in the Olympics even though we were treated like second-class citizens at home. Because of the movement that was going on there were grumblings that the blacks would boycott the games, because even though laws were starting to change, the white people still looked down on us and things weren't completely even. When Tommie and John stood on the podium for the medal ceremony, they both raised fists in the air with black gloves on: Representing black power and unity."
"I'm sure that didn't go over real well, huh?" My attention was undivided.
"There were suspended by their team and kicked out of Olympic Village, where all of the Olympians stayed during the games. Their demonstration had already made headlines all over the world and it gave us back home so much pride. Even the Australian silver medalist participated by wearing an Olympic Project for Human Rights badge to the ceremony. Right is right and wrong is wrong and the entire world knew how hypocritical America was being."
"And us black people still fighting for our rights," Warrick added. We ain't gon' never be truly free in this country. They sent me to jail for a crime I didn't commit and then when I get home they tell me I can't vote for my president. What type of shit is that? They wouldn't let me take phone calls, get a job, or have any rec time in there."
"That was because of your poor behavior," I couldn't stand listening anymore. "You went in there acting a fool!"
"Bro, you don't know how it is in there." His tone was serious. "There's no such thing as good behavior when you first go in. They treat you like an animal: Degrading you, telling you that you'll never amount to anything. And the ones that did get to leave, they were telling them 'Oh, you'll be back.' And those were the guards!"
He started to tear up, "You don't come out of there the same as you went in," his voiced trailed off. "You're never the same."
While my half-brother spent four years in prison, I was getting first bachelors degree in leadership development. While he spend the next 3 years reporting to his parole officer and peeing in a cup, I was finishing up my MBA and marrying my first wife. When I was caught cheating she divorced me and took over my 3 pizza and chicken restaurants. I guess like father, like son.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)