I've Seen The Future And It Will Be.....

The funky, funky, funky hit records have hit the needle, and I am about to spit out a few useless (well, perhaps to you, but in doing this It may make me feel better) rhymes, riddles, thoughts and piddles for folks to take with them, dust off, and maybe use in their lives to better themselves (or tell friends and loved one that some crazy black guy who lives in the midwest is bored at 1 AM in the morning, EST).

I am what you may call a "failed writer" (i.e. has more rejections than Micheal Jackson applying for a day care center job) who wanted to at least prove to himself he can be useful in a world full of folks who, well, are pissed off at one thing or another. I have just finished watching 5 innings of the 2008 World Series (which mean I am among the 8 people or so who still give a crap about America's Pastime), and while IM'ing for the first time in years with some old friends from the past, suggested after reading my ramblings on my "MySpace" page that I should start a blog, in the hopes of one day someone seeing me and being foolish enough to give me "paper" (gotta practice the Ebonics; being married to a white woman, I have to keep sharp on the assumed lingo that even in the 21st century some folks still feel tis the only way I can communicate). So, here I am, pecking away, knowing that my sleep-apnea having a** should be in bed, trying to get some sleep.

There are a few things on my mind this evening-slash-morning that I do wish to speak of to an audience of no one. One, as most folks around the world should know, in about 9 days The United States (or the Estados Unidos, as it will be known by according to my spouse, as that by 2032 or so Hispanics will be the majority....I told her to change her name to "Carlita" and she'll be safe) is about to make history by electing either its first African American President or its first female Vice President (which, in Palin's case, is sort of like getting Ms. Congeniality....useless unless the winner poses in Playboy with another chick). Now being African American/Black/A Negro/Other colorful metaphors I will leave off because kids may read this stuff, it is automatically assumed that I would be voting for Mr. Obama. Well, if it makes you feel better, I am going to be a peaceful observer and see what happens. Yeah, I am sure that a lot of people of color (which always cracks me up....Caucasians/Whites/The blue eyed Devil...u notice that they just don't have good insults like persons in my position do they?), particularly the older generation, will be ticked off because of the struggle for African Americans to vote back in the day. I do appreciate it, trust me on this one. But here's the thing (and this has ticked off my mamma several times during some spirited conversations)...a lot of black folks are voting for Mr. Obama because he, is well, black (and don't get into the 1/2 white thing...if he went to Mississippi in the backwoods, it would be "Mississippi Burning" all over again. Get over it....y'all lost the war). While I understand this to a point, especially with what all the previous generations have gone through and seeing one of their own (well, 1/2 of one of their own anyway) PROBABLY getting the job (let's face it, Mr. McCain, whose party has been jumping Obama for his lack of experience, etc., hasn't shown the best decision making themselves....Palin? Come on...she's a big time "MILF", but about as smart as Prince going into a "Big & Tall" store looking for jeans). But whomever gets the job has a cluster(expeletive) to clean up...and unless his name is Jesus Christ, the first couple of years is going to be rough. So if Barack wins, give the dude a chance, and put the long range rifles away...it's nearly 2009....wake up...we all bleed red.

The other thought before I bounce out of here is about my little boy Noah. He is the cutest bloody thing...nearly 3, and has Downs Syndrome. Now this isn't a pity party or whatever, all about the struggle of surgeries, developmental delays, and all that other jazz. There are people who would cut off your man jewels for bread and jelly cuz they can't feed their kids. Those are problems. But as that 2008 has sucked moose johnson for me and my family, the one thing that keeps me from robbing drug dealers of their stash and cash is that kid. No matter what, whether it would being in the hospital, or not feeling well, or learning to walk only a couple of months ago, he's always smiling. And it makes me think...I went from having great credit and a good job to a rat not lending me a crumb, not making a dime in 2008 outside of checking tests for the state of Indiana at $10 an hour....and at times, realizing how trivial the problems we blow up to mountains can be. A 2 year old about 34 inches tall with a big ol' scar, possibly doomed to pushing carts out of a parking lot for a living for all I know is still smiling. Shit, what do I have to complain about, right?

So, if you are having a bad day, a bad year, or a bad bowel movement, remember, you could be the other mofo who is going for that bread and jelly.

Peace and chicken gizzards.