Beer Kid

Back in the days, late ‘70s to early ‘80s, my mom would sometimes have small gatherings at our home in the summer months. BBQ chicken was always the main course, along with sausage, potato and macaroni salads, beans, and something sweet to eat. On average, there would be anywhere from ten to fifteen people attending these gatherings in our yard. There was always a table for dominoes and sometimes one for spades. My mom would have either BB King or Bobby Bland spinning on the record player. I don’t remember who brought the drink, but there seemed to be an endless supply of gin and grapefruit juice along with Miller High Life.
The brew was always stored in our fridge, and since I was the only kid at these functions, I was the beer runner. At first I hated it when my mom sent me in to get more beer. I remember thinking, “Why can’t they get off of their asses and get their own damn beer?” Even though I disliked being the beer runner, I never told my mom that I did not want to do it. As time went on I started to notice that something was different after the grownups drank a few beers. They would talk and curse louder, slam the dominoes on the table harder, and they became lax in their judgment. I learned how to take advantage of these situations. After a few beer runs, I would ask if they wanted me to open their beer cans for them. Most would be too caught-up in their games or in their spitting of game to really think about what I asked them.
I would open the beers inside and take a few sips off of the top before taking them outside to the grownups. Since they were already feeling buzzed they did not notice the missing beer. And, since I was still a little dude I could only hold one can in each hand. It did not take many trips to the fridge before I was buzzed too. I grew to love it when my mom sent me to get more beer. I loved it so much that I would get really angry when someone would tell me that they did not want me to open their beers for them. In fact I would shake up their beer cans before I came out of the house if they told me not to open them. I found it very amusing to see grown ass people getting sprayed in the face by their own beer. And when my mom asked me what happened to the beer I would reply by shrugging my shoulders and saying, “I don’t know mama, I just took them out of the refrigerator.”

First History Lesson

The children in group one learned that this is their country. Their forefathers made the laws of the land and formed the government. They had all of the money and property. Only they were smart enough and brave enough to be presidents and lead this land. Their faces are on all of our money. History tells them that they built everything.
The children in group two learned that this is not their country. They were captured and brought from their homeland. They were herded on to ships like animals. They were chained together so tight that they had to shit and piss on themselves because they could not move. The sick were thrown overboard for the sharks to eat. When they got here they were sold as slaves and treated worse than some animals. Their families were torn apart. They lost their religion, language, and customs. Everything that they knew when they were in their homeland was wiped from their memory. History tells the children in group two that their forefathers did little to help make this great country. In fact, they are led to believe that over time they became a burden to society.
With everything else being the same in the classroom as far as supplies, treatment from their teacher, etc. Are these children on an equal field? Will the students who have been taught that their forefathers were slaves and burdens to society with no real contribution to this country perform just as well as the students who have been taught that their forefathers were great and all doing?

Chicken and Dumplings

“Which one do you want baby?” I stood there in the middle of the chicken coop with my grandmother. I could not have been more than five at the time. I remember watching Nana collect eggs and feed and water the chickens many times from outside of the coop. This was my first time being inside and I was extremely nervous. “Which one do you want child?” I pointed to the little fat one in the corner, “That one Nana, I want that one over there.” As long as I live I will never forget what happened next. My grandmother grabbed the little fat chicken and we exited the coop. As she held the hen tight around the wings, she placed it on its side on the ground and put her boot on its head. She gave a strong tug to the hen’s body and threw it to the ground about a yard away. The chicken was flapping and jumping very violently. Feathers were flying all around. I had no idea of what just happened. It was not until the hen stopped moving that I saw that its head was gone. I was instantly covered in goose bumps and it was suddenly hard to breath. I looked over at my grandmother as she stood there in all her womanly glory with her hands on her hips. I guess she could see the shock on my face. “What’s wrong baby?” “Nothing Nana,” I replied. Nana walked over and picked up the lifeless body. I slowly walked over to look at the head that was pressed into the dirt by the weight of her boot. I could not believe that this thing was living just a few minuets ago. “Come on baby, let’s get this thing cleaned up.” We went inside and she began to run hot water over the feathers. “What is the water for Nana?” “The hot water makes it easy to pull the feathers off,” Nana said. After all of the feathers were gone, I watched her slice the chicken open and remove all of the smelly, slimy parts. She then went on to cut it into peices. About an hour later, we were sitting down to the best chicken and dumplings that I have ever had.

musings

P-Funk
does anyone know that they were really talking about when they said, "Things you blow through because of things you swim through."

My Brain
am i really as crazy as i think i am?

Jimmy
sometimes i feel like Jimmy was talking about me when he said, "I know what I want but I just don't know."

Pussy
if pussy went by any other name would it still feel just as good?

Ice Cube
"A bird in the hand is worth more than a Bush."
when he put this in his rhyme he was referring to the 1st pres. Bush; however, one wonders if it is more applicable to the 2nd pres. Bush

Olfactory
is it a coincidence that some women's fragrances remind me of pussy? for example, an attractive woman walks by me in the grocery store and i smell her perfume. depending on what it smells like, i have to follow the smell and find out what she looks like because it makes me think of pussy

Obama
is America, and the rest of the world for that matter, ready for a black president? Will he be criticized more frequently and severely because he is black? Will he even make it through a term before some hater tries to kill him because he is black?

weeding

the other day i was home with my seed. he was occupied by his ds, so i excused myself to the backyard for a visit with Sativa. she was wonderful as always. it was a nice cool slightly overcast light wind kind of day. i did not want to waste that nice weather by going inside, the next thing you know i was on my knees pulling weeds out of my flowerbed. it was so peaceful. i had the best time. i have heard that spending time with your hands in the dirt was therapeutic, but when Sativa is in the mix...

do you remember?

the first time you felt love
the first time you felt pain
the first time you lost
the first time you stood in the rain
the first time you came
the first time someone you loved went away
the first time you got high
the first time you felt to cry
the first time you tasted victory
the first time you faced your enemy
the first time you got sick
the first time someone told you "i love you"

THERE IS NO GOING BACK! (late 90's)

Do you miss that warm, dark, peaceful place?
There was no trouble, no worries, no demands.
There was just peace.
Do you wish that you could go back and start over?
Could that be why most men love pussy so?
Are we all trying to get back to that place?