Lessons In A Winter Wonderland

A man can be inspired by a lot of things.  You never know what.  It can be a sunset, a billboard…or even the actions of a little girl.

If you’ve been watching the news lately, you know that the North Eastern states have been getting their collective asses kicked by Mother Nature. Last week, the region got over 24 inches of snow and right now, it’s getting another 24.  It’s been brutal with blankets of white coming with cold, harsh winds.

I spent part of the afternoon shoveling my car out in the blizzard; if you wait too long, the snow freezes, and you’re shoveling heavy blocks of white ice. I’d been out there for about a half hour when a little girl approached me with her own little shovel and starts digging right beside me.  She couldn’t be any older than six.  I turned to her and smiled as she swung her shovel back and forth.  She made more of a mess than anything, but she tried as hard as she could.

We’d been digging for about 10 minutes before her mother called to her to come inside. She yelled back, “Mom, I’m helping the man shovel snow.  I’ll be in in a minute.”  I turned to tell her that she should listen to her mother and go inside.

“Mister, you sure you’ll be ok with out me?  It’s a lot of snow.”

“Yes,” I chuckled,”I’ll be fine.  And thank you.”

She threw her shovel over her shoulder after a hard 10 minutes’ work and left.  But she did more work than I did all day.  Because it was genuine.  All she wanted to do was help.  She didn’t want anything for it. I offered her a few bucks as she left but she said she was just glad to help.

And as they say a good deed in infectious.  After I finished with my car, I walked over to another guy who was shoveling and helped him.  And then he in turn went to help someone else.

That little girl’s actions inspired me to help someone else.   It also made me think of why I started this blog: to tell my story and to help other people where I can.  If I can help someone be a better man, that’s a good thing.

Maybe there are some good people out there after all.  It’s sad that most of them are probably still in the first grade.

Feel free to comment.

BlockStandard.com

Afternoon, Man Among Boys readers.  Instead of giving you a blog today, I want to tell you about a new collaboration called Block Standard (www.blockstandard.com).

Block Standard is a collective of like-minded and like mission men who decided to pool their individual insights into one blog for the immediate dissemination of information that enables you to improve your money-making capabilities. You’re going to get a lot of different views from different people from a lot of different angles, each building on the other.

The goal is to empower you with knowledge.  What you do with it is completely up to you.

Block Standard…“Redefine Your Corner”

At Least Leave Me My Dignity Pt. 2 – My Shame

I pride myself on being a man.  Part of a man means taking a stance and standing tall.  It is also knowing when kneel down and take a lesson from your children.

In the first part of “At Least Leave Me My Dignity“, I talked about being dead set against any type of testing that involved anything going in my ass.  I would rather eat glass than have someone’s finger jamming in my rectum. Anyone who tried to rationalize it got cussed the f*ck out quickly.  But something happened recently that changed my thinking on that.

My son was recently in the hospital.  He’s been having abdominal pain so he went in for testing and was admitted.  The doctor wanted to make sure there wasn’t any tearing or inflammation.  They prodded, poked, and took multiple x-rays.

Then they had to do…the test.

The doctor put on his glove and asked my son to turn over on his stomach.  My son knew what was coming.  He winced a little and that was that.  The doctor took off his glove, told Gio he’s be hooked up the IV to get liquids for the night and left.

I ran over to hug my son like he was just shot in combat.  I held him and asked how he felt and he said he felt…violated.  I felt like it was my fault.  I told him that would be the last time and that he’d never have to do it again.  Then he said…

“But what if the doctor says I have to?  I want make sure I’m OK…a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do .”

At that moment, I felt like the room was full with people staring at me, shaking their hear head because my son had done and accepted what I was afraid of.

That was my shame.  At that moment, my son was more man than me.  And if I’m to be an example for my son, I have to man up on this one.

I have to make sure I’m around for him, so that means I have to make sure I’m healthy.  I’ve decided that I’ve been childish about this for long enough.

I’m going to schedule the test.

There’s a history of certain illnesses in my family, and the “test” will help rule out certain things…so I’m getting it…whether I like it or not.  I might even feel violated.  But if it means that I’ll have a better chance to live to raise my son into a man, and to see him raise his own children, then so be it.

Like my son taught me…a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

Feel free to comment.

New Years 2010: Brand New Year..Same Ole Sh*t

Happy New Year!  Welcome to 2010!  I hope that you all had a memorable New Year’s experience, no matter what you did. I just got back from Atlanta.  For New Year’s Eve, I went to an upscale party at the Ritz Carlton Buckhead across from the Lenox mall.  It was nice.  I did all the typical things, dance, sip champagne, laugh, joke, and people watch.  I don’t know if I’ll do the big party scene again, but the time I spent with friends made it worth the trip.

(For those of you wondering, YES, I did hit the strip club the night before.)

My trip also taught me that you guys still need help.  I saw a lot of unmanly things.  A LOT of unmanly things.  I tried to take pictures but they weren’t clear, but if they were, I’d have them on this post and putting a lot of people to shame.

There were a few “guys” I met or saw at the party that I’d like to introduce you too.  They did a lot of unmanly stuff that I hoped we’d put to rest in 2009, but it’s a brand new year…same ole sh*t…

Mr. Too Cool

I talked about this before but it seems that Mr. Too Cool still wants to wear (fake) designer sunglasses indoors.  No one should wear shades in the club or any dark room unless you got punched in the eye and are covering it up.  And if you’re juvenile enough to still be fighting, you shouldn’t have been at this party.

Farnsworth, I mean..Foolsworth Bentley

Pulling a cheap suit out the closet and adding a large, ridiculous bowtie and a cummerbund does not a tuxedo make.  Trying to jazz it up by wearing bright, sparkly,white shoes with it is just sad.  For some reason, when they sparkled it made me think of The Wizard Of Oz…”I wish I was home.”

I wish you stayed home.

Mr. Tough Guy

Speaking of fighting, the tough-guy-in-front-of-your-woman act is really old, but some guys still do it.  Fellas, you don’t have to fight every time something “happens” to your lady.  I was drinking a bottle of water that my friend knocked over. A little of the water splashed on a lady standing a few feet from me.  She was understandingly shocked at first, but I assured her it was just water and apologized.

Then, after the situation was diffused, her knucklehead husband/boyfriend/jumpoff stepped to me with his chest out asking “Yo, why you gotta spill water on my girl?” I apologized to him, said it was an ACCIDENT, and assured him it was water.  I extended my hand to him and wished him a happy new year.  A lesser man would have handed him his ass…but it’s not worth it.  That’s the kind of stuff that gets guys embarrassed or worse.  If you want to embarrass yourself, it’s a free country, but you’re not going to embarrass me.

Boo Boo Da Fool version 2010

What is it with you knuckleheads and bottles of alcohol?  Do you just naturally try to embarrass yourselves, or do you practice in front of a mirror?

There was a guy holding two bottles of Grey Goose wearing a pimp hat dancing and shaking his bottles like he was doing something.  That was only surpassed by another fool dancing with an empty champagne bottle and actually asked a woman if she wanted a drink.

Mr…Honestly, I Don’t Know What To Say

Lastly, no matter how many Y chromosomes you claim to have, dancing while waving sparklers and spinning ya dumb ass around like a top is the most unmanly thing I’ve seen in a while.  I’d continue on this one, but I have not the words.  Definitely not TrueMan approved.

If after reading this you have to question if you were any of these “men” during the holiday…you probably were.

Cut that sh*t out!  Man up!

Feel free to comment.

At Least Leave Me My Dignity

This is a continuation of my posts about my trip to the mountains.  Since my last post about my “Plain Cheese Pizza Theory” was such a hit, I figured it was ok to move onto something else.

We kept driving through the mountains and talked about a few other topics, one of which being family. We’ve shared a lot with each other.  I told her about the history of cancer in my family; 2 uncles and my father were diagnosed with cancer but, thankfully, had any cancer removed.  I’m not at the age where I have to worry about getting tested for it regularly yet, but I’m no spring chicken.  So that turned to talk about me…

• Her: So, are you getting tested?
• Me: I’ve been thinking about it.  I’m going to schedule a blood test.
• Her: Well you need to do more than that.  You need the “other” test.
• Me: Girl…don’t go there.
• Her (wagging her index finger in the air and smiling): You know what I mean…
• Me: Say one more word, I’ll active my ejector set and shoot yo ass right into orbit….

It’s not going down like that.  No way, no how.  No prostate exam, no colonoscopy.  Nothing going anywhere it shouldn’t for any reason.

I’ve honestly had nightmares about the “other” test, imagining a doctor with a super long Arsenio Hall index finger and a sinister “MUAAAHHHHH” laugh as he puts on his gloves. I’ve awoken in a sweat, tossing and turning in my sleep, dreaming I was butt ass naked, stomach down on a cold table, waiting to be…violated.

I’ve talked with my uncle about this before.  He had the test.  He told me he was put under and didn’t feel a thing.  No one would ever know.  But I’d know…and that’s one person too many.

What if I saw the doctor out one day while at a movie or on a dinner date?  “Hey, how are you? Remember me?  I had my finger in your rectum a few weeks ago, you know, just probing around. How’s the soup?”

I doubt the doctor would say that…but he could if he wanted to.  He would have finger “knowledge” of me…in the biblical sense.

Just the thought of that makes me shiver.

If I have to choose between the doctor conducting an anal probe and death…well, dying doesn’t seem all that bad.  When I leave this world, I won’t be able to take any of the awards I’ve won, the accolades I’ve received, or any money I’ve made.  At least leave me my dignity.

Is my view on this a bit childish? Probably.  If is foolish to risk my health and life over not wanting someone to put a tube up my behind? Yep.  But I’m so against this it’s not even funny.

Everybody dies.  The Grim Reaper comes for us all at one time or another.  I want to leave this world with my head held high…and my hindquarters unexplored.

My family, friends, and loved ones may mourn my passing, but I’d want them to remember me as I was. They can put on my tombstone,

“Gone too soon…but no man ever had his finger in his ass.”

Feel free to comment.

A Lesson Learned from Happy Thanksgiving

I hope you all had a  Happy Thanksgiving. I hope that you ate lots to turkey, watched a few of the NFL games, and fell into a comatose like sleep.  I also hope that you learned a little something about family.

I think that sometimes we take our family for granted.  I mean they’ve always been around, even when you didn’t want them to be.  We have holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas when we’re supposed to appreciate them a little bit more, but shouldn’t we do that all year long?

I have a friend who spent a non traditional Thanksgiving with her mother this year.  It was just the two of them because, as happens to all of us, the rest of her family was pulled in so many different directions that it’s hard to keep up with everyone.  She and her mother went out to eat dinner…and then went bowling.  She texted me later to let me know that it might have been the best Thanksgiving ever.   She got to spend some one-on-one time with Mom and learned a few personal things about Mom she probably didn’t know before. My friend said that she wouldn’t have gotten to know Mom better over the loud roar of Thanksgiving conversation, family catching up, and NFL Fox Sports news casts.

I learned a lesson of my own.  My family got together for the typical Thanksgiving dinner.  Everyone was eating and enjoying each other’s company….except my teenaged cousin.  She usually sits in the corner, eats dinner, and gets on her laptop.  Everyone is older than her, talking about jobs and their kids growing up and going to school.  She’ll take part in the conversation for a while,  but then goes off to do her own thing.

After I  ate, I went into the living room like I usually do to watch a lopsided football game.  I peered over at my cousin. She just looked up from her computer just long enough to catch my eye, smiled back, and went back into techno-world.  Instead of watching the game, I went to talk to her for a while. We talked about her love of Korean pop music, that she wants to go to college in Japan, and that she eventually wants to help design computer and video games.  She’s a really smart kid and she has a bright future.

Even though get-togethers sometimes seem like a bad scene from “Madea’s Family Reunion” and they get on my nerves, they are my family.  You don’t have to love your family, but I do.

Did you learn anything new about your family?  Feel free to comment.

If Your Life Was A Book

This post will be very short, because I want more feedback from you this time.  Part of being a man is learning more about your fellow man.  So I have a question:

If your life was a book, what book would it be?  In asking that question, I’m assuming that you all read something other than a sports page or one of those cheesy gossip magazines.

Now, don’t go claiming the Bible or Koran, thinking that you’re blameless and upright like Job.  If you do, when the lightnin’ bolt comes and zaps you square in the forehead, don’t say you weren’t warned.

I could try to play it cool and say the book that would describe me best would be “Pimp: The Story of My Life” by Robert Beck (aka Iceberg Slim), but honestly, I stopped pimpin’ a while ago.  Don’t hate the playa, hate the game.

If I had to pick a book, it would probably be “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” by Robert Louis Stevenson.  Everyone has two sides to them, and depending on the situation, one side takes over.  For some it takes a confrontation to bring that side out. For others, it’s dark liquor.  Some people are just naturally assh*les and act like that all the time.

So, if your life was a book, what book would it be?  Feel free to comment.

Baby Ballers

New Year’s Eve is coming up, and I’m starting to make my plans for the holiday.  I like to travel with friends and go to a party or two and bring in the new year upbeat.  I try to start each year anew and learn from my successes and failures of the last year.

For the last few years, I’ve gone to Atlanta (Note: I love Atlanta.  The people are friendly and you can’t throw a rock without hitting a gentlemen’s club or two).  I was talking with one of my best friends who lives there about last year’s festivities.

I remember a club we went to and some interesting characters we met.  There were a group of young men we called the “baby ballers.”  About eight of them, and none were taller than 5’8″.  They were a bunch of Kanye West wannabees, and if you know anything about how I feel about Kanye West, that’s not a compliment (see my post “Damn You Kanye West“).

Anyway you couldn’t tell these fools they weren’t the sh*t as they strolled through the crowd with their velvet blazers and scarfs to the crowded back area.

My boy and I started laughing at these fools the minute we laid eyes on them.  These guys were doing everything wrong, but you could tell they were so full of themselves and so full of sh*t that you could have given them “Meeting Women For Dummies” and it wouldn’t have helped.

They proceeded to post up in the pseudo VIP (that’s the table as far in the back as possible next to the actual VIP section), wave their scarfs in the air, look down over their shades, and show their collective asses for the rest of the night.  The problem is that I’ve seen this too often, and it’s time I intervened.  You “baby ballers” are not only embarrassing yourselves and your parents, you are embarrassing me.

So, for all of you “baby ballers” out there, you need a grown man to set you straight.  Let me give you a few tips:

• Don’t wear shades in the club.  You look like an idiot.  It’s already dark and you keep bumping into people because you can’t see.

• Feel free to order champagne and party all night but don’t draw attention to yourselves by holding up your bottle of champagne with the label sticking out for all to see.  You only make it clear that you aren’t used to drinking it.

• …especially if the eight of you have to share one bottle and sip your glass like it’s a bottle of Evian in the Sahara desert.  And when the bottle’s empty, ask your server to take it away.  You look like idiots when you pass an empty champagne bottle around to each other and take pictures with it like you’re really doing something.

• Think of a good way to introduce yourself to a woman.  Something that says you have character and half a brain.  Here’s an idea, how about “Hi, my name is (insert here).  I saw you from across the room and wanted to come meet you.  What’s your name? It’s nice to meet you.”  I’ve actually heard a young man introduce himself with the line  “HEY BABY, WASSUP WIT CHO P*SSY?” To call that ignant (yes, I said “ignant”; that’s a new level of ignorant) is an understatement.

• Don’t throw a wad of money in the air.  It’s immature and makes you look like a clown.  It makes you look even more stupid when its a wad of $1 bills.

• Leave a tip!  A gratuity.  If you can look like you can afford to buy champagne, you can look like you can afford to tip your server.  Saying “That’s the job they chose, why should I tip?” is a sorry excuse.

Come to think of it, I have a better idea.  Stop trying to be a baller.  A real man doesn’t have to show off.  It’s time for your to grow up.  Become a man among boys.

Feel free to comment.

Happy Halloween!

Today is the day went most of the kids in America will dress up in costumes of their favorite characters they will only wear once, go out in their neighborhoods, and do what most consider a socially acceptable method of begging by saying “Trick or Treat!” to get  candy.  

It’s also a day when most parents will have to trust their children and begin to let go.

The other day, I found that I’m not cool enough to hang out with my son anymore.  He called me and asked me if it was ok if he went Trick or Treating with his friends instead of the old man this year.  He’s 10 now and I guess he’s beginning to feel his oats.

As much as it hurt me to say “yes”, I did.  I still remember the first time I took out.  He had on his little Spiderman costume and could barely say “Twick or Tweet”, but we got around to just about every house in the neighborhood.  After all that walking, he was too tired to even think about eating his candy and just went to sleep.

Dads, even though it’s hard sometimes we have to let our kids grow up.  The best thing you can arm them with is common sense and a set of rules to go by.  Drill these into your kids head before you let them go out.

• Give you child your cell phone (or if they have their own, make sure it’s charged).  Call them every once in a while to make sure they’re ok and that they’re staying in the neighborhood.  Let them know that if they don’t answer the phone or don’t call back right away, Trick or Treat is over and you’ll come looking  for them to make sure they’re safe.

• Establish the Trick or Treat route they are to take.  No sidestreets or unknown areas.

• Tell all of the kids to stay together as a group.  They all go on the porch, they all come off.  No one goes up alone.

• Under no circumstances is anyone to go into anyone’s house.  I don’t care if one of the kids knows the parent at the door or not.

• No candy is to be eaten while they’re out Trick or Treating. When they get home, inspect all candy with a flashlight (if there are any pins or blades, they will shine in the light).  I knew of a kid that bit into a Snickers bar while they were out and got cut up with pins.

If this is your child’s first time going out alone, let them know that this is a big step and that you are trusting them to make the right decisions while they’re out.  This will give them a sense of responsiblity.

And don’t be cheap and cut the lights out when kids come to your door.  Have a heart.

Happy Halloween.

Feel free to comment.

Game, Set, Match…

I was at a female friend’s place last Sunday watching a few of the football games.  Nothing sexual.  We’ve always flirted, but we kept it at that.  We kicked back on the sofa, threw a few pillows back and forth, ordered a pizza, and got ready for a full day of watching what many be the manliest of all sports.

She sat there in her t-shirt and oversized sweats, with her hair pulled back in a single pony tail.  No make up or perfume.  Just two friends layin’ back.

Out of the blue she says to me perhaps the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard…

“Notice how Eli (Manning) always says “Omaha” right before the snapcount they’re going on.  He might need to switch that up. The defense is starting to catch on.”

My head quickly snapped to.  Huh? How did she catch onto that?? And she said it before the announcer says the same thing.

Suddenly, she seemed to glow a bit, almost radiant.  A while later…

“Idiot!! Why would you pass on 3rd and a mile inside your own 10 yard line? You’ve given the other team great field position on the kickoff.  Why don’t you just give the game away? Moron.”

I smiled at her as she started talking about how the coach has been calling boneheaded plays all game, but I wasn’t paying attention.   I just kept staring at her longingly.  Luckily, I was able to come to my senses and focus on the game.

I almost got trapped.

Fellas, it can happen to you too.  Beware.  Nowadays, women are infiltrating the inner sanctum of our mancaves.  Football Sundays are no longer just ours.  Women are watching boxing more and more.  The commissioner of my fantasy football league is a woman (she’s good too).

It’s not a new concept.  We men have been doing that for years.  Tell me you haven’t tried to cook a woman a meal to impress her. Tell me you didn’t watch Eddie Murphy as Marcus Graham in the movie “Boomerang” put on his mac and seduce Lela Rochon’s fine ass  and say….”Hmmmm, rosemary, huh.  I’ll have to add some of that next time I cook salmon” (great movie, rent if you haven’t seen it).

I’ve talked with female friends of mine that admitted to me they learned more about a sport to trap a man.  I’m not saying that there aren’t some women out there that are genuinely interested in football, but when a female friend of yours starts breaking down the zone blitz to you, your radar should be going up.

Women are smart fellas.  No longer are they thinking “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”  Now, they’re telling you why a wide receiver’s yards after catch should be higher.

If a girl you’re dating know more about your favorite sport than you, she’s got a plan.

I’m just trying to look out for you.

What are your thoughts? Feel free to comment.