How Soon We Forget

One of the most beautiful aspects of the human spirit is its resiliency and it's ability to withstand the trials of life and not linger in defeat, but to bravely continue to take each step forward and move past those challenges which could have kept us down.

It's because of one of the truest statements ever - Life Goes On. And trust, it will go on. With or without you, the world will keep spinning causing the sun to stand at attention by day and the moon to rest in the sky at night.

Out of that ability to move on comes the tendency for people, places, things and incidents to lose the strength of their impact on our lives. With stressful or chaotic or catastrophic occurences, this is a good thing. We would surely die if we could not move past the painful times in our lives. Can you imagine what it would be like to live continually with the feelings of that specific moment of a thing that cause you great pain or distress or dispair? In cases like that, it is good that we are ALLOWED to forget.

But the fading memories of good times is a tragedy. The memory of that wonderful thing a person did for you, or a particular time when you triumphed and rejoiced. Wouldn't it be wonderful to continuously live in that state of euphoria?.

I would LOVE to be continually so happy that i couldn't stand it.

Said all of that to say:

Do not forget the good times. Hold fast to those precious moments in which you know joy unspeakable. Put them behind a special door in your heart so that on your darkest days, you can step up to that door, fling it wide open and walk into the memories of the beautiful places in your life.

singing in the rain...

Sometimes, you go to church expecting a service or a sermon or a message, but what you receive is a word. And like michelle says, I heard a word and I wanted to share it with you.

It's my time for rain.

I have been like a wilted flower begging for a soothing gentle mist, a lost soul looking for the river in the desert, a withered crop needing a refreshing summer shower.

Just over the horizon, I can see the sun as it dips behind the gathering clouds and I have heard the forecast - 100% chance of rain

I am eager for the raindrops - ooooh the anticipation.

So, if you hear something strange outside your window. Go and pull up the shades. You are likely to see a lone figure...head thrown back...eyes wide shut...arms wide open.

And you might wonder, "Who is that crazy person?"

Don't worry. It's just me - laughing and dancing and singing in the rain.

you big rock you...

funny how life gets in the way of things that are most important...a couple of nights ago...i was watching joel olsteen deliver a message about living a focused life...

he gave the illustration that i'm sure you've seen or heard before called...is this jar full?...it's a time management teaching tool...

first the big rocks go in...filled to the top...is this jar full?

then the gravel...again, to the top...is this jar full?

then fine grands of sand...all the way to the top...is this jar full?

just when you think you can get nothing else in the jar...take out a pitcher of water and fill the jar to the top...

the moral of the story...if you don't put your big rocks (the things that are most important to you)...you won't ever be able to fit them in...

my slant to this story...don't be offended if i call you a big rock...

I had this dream the other night...

I was riding around looking at houses with a certain love interest. I had to go to the bathroom, so he lets me out in front of a shopping center. I end up in a bathroom inside of a cleaners.

On the way out of the store, I stole some clothes from the cleaners and was trying to sneak past the window so the lady wouldn't see me. I get past the window and I don't see my friend. As I start to panic cause I'm walking around with all of these stolen clothes, my cell phone rings. It's the lady from the store informing me that she has called the police on me for stealing the clothes. I freak out and start running down the street trying to find somewhere to hide the clothes, but i'm dropping them as i go. Then i woke up...

Dream Interpretation as provided by my blogmate - KSanders:

Sea- Looking for a home with a love interest possibly suggests a search for security, or a search for stability. Dreaming that you are stealing indicates that you are deprived of something and where the stealing takes place is indicative of your neediness. So since you were stealing from a cleaners maybe you need some new clothes. Alternatively, it may signify unrealized and unfulfilled goals. You may have set your goals too high. Dreaming that you are running away from someone indicates an issue that you are trying to avoid. You are not taking or accepting responsibility for your actions. Dropping the clothes as you run could symbolize a lost opportunity or the potential to let something/someone close to you slip away.

I would say that all of that is pretty much on point with what is going on in my life right now.

MLK, Jr. Day

grateful for the freedoms that were gained.

thankful for the sacrifices that were made.

honoring the lives that were lost.

for our good, they paid the ultimate cost.

i can't imagine what it would be like

to die for a basic human right.

i wish i could count each tear that has been cried

for the brave souls who gave their lives.

when i think of rosa on that bus

and what that now means to us

and of the marchers on that bridge,

do they know just what they did?

they decided to take a stand,

come to the aid of their fellow man.

these were everyday people, you see.

some like you...some like me.

whose actions brought about a change,

made sure history was rearranged.

forty something years have past,

and their legacies still last.

some whose names we'll never know

and whose faces they'll never show.

so, i pause in honor and with respect,

vowing to never, ever forget

that along with dr. martin king

there are others who gave up everything.

our eyes have seen the glory and we can't stop

as we struggle to reach the mountaintop.

for although we have made countless gains,

we have still much to be attained

and while we can't discount the achievements we've seen,

we can never, ever give up 'the dream'.

she's cruisin....

going to LA...for the first time...

going on a cruise...for the first time...

going to mexico...for the first time...

i am WAY too old for all these first time events...

at any rate...i'm out until friday - 1.21.05 - those that pray...pray me a safe journey...those that don't...keep your fingers crossed...rub your rabbit's foot and search for four leafed clovers...

might check in...might not...but know that i will be thinking about those of you who are closest to me...ALWAYS!!!

i'm out...until next time...

take good care...

Body Blows

Life is a like a championship boxing match.

Any decent fighter knows that you should step in the ring in top physical condition, with a good trainer in your corner and with a strategy for how you will defeat your opponent.

Good fighters are light on their feet and are able to duck, dodge and fend off the uppercuts and jabs from their opponent. They know that sometimes all it takes is a quick blow when your guard is down to not only knock you off your feet, but to knock you out and take you down for the count.

But the best fighters are the ones that know how to take a hit and keep on fighting. And I'm not just talking about the left jab that will open up a cut over your eye or the right uppercut to the jaw that will leave you unsteady for a moment. I'm talking about the punishing body blows that wound you on the inside - the ones that will slowly sap your energy and leave you thanking God at the bell signalling the end of round three and make you unable to push up from the stool as the bell ding-dings for a new round.

Then there are the times when you have to deal with the below the belt blows that are liable to take the wind out of your sails leaving you lightheaded and gasping for the next breath to sustain your life.

I am taking some serious blows right now. Mentally, emotionally and financially.

But I am a prize fighter and I know the source of my strength.

So, while it may be that the last round went to my opponent, I have no doubt that at the end of this bout I will raise my hands in victory and the championship belt will belong to me.

Melissa's Saggy Tits

Melissa is going to KILL me. It's a good thing she doesn't read my blog THAT often.

Last night, Melissa and I were talking about her booty buddy. We call him "Old Dude". Why? Cause he's about fifteen years older than we are.

It seems as if Old Dude and Melissa had been having a conversation. At some point during the discourse, Melissa admitted to feeling less than great about some of her body parts. Namely, after two pregnancies and three children, her girls are not as perky as they used to be.

A few days later, Old Dude was visiting Melissa while one of her neighbors was at her place. Somehow, the conversation turned to Old Dude's physical condition. He began to brag that he was naturally fit and had always had a slim physique.

He should have stopped there. His next comment has caused him to now be re-named '@$$hole'. He continued, "I've never had to work out unlike Melissa who could do some exercises to firm up her saggy tits."

I have to pause and laugh again as I type. In fact, I don't think I can properly finish this post. I'm just going to end it right here. Sorry, but this is just way 2 d@mn funny.

Praying for Rain

Indians dance for rain. Corporations hire rainmakers. And I am praying for rain.

I already know what you're thinking. Why on earth are you praying for rain?

Let me clarify. I am not praying for a storm. But for a renewing shower to wash over my spirit, to cleanse my soul and to drench my life with a new purpose.

I need the rain in the way that a dry and barren land longs for the heavens to open up and bless the parched earth with drops of life sustaining, life giving, life altering water. I thirst for the rain and its cleansing, healing properties.

I do not want to pull out an umbrella or run for shelter. Instead, I want to throw my head back, lift up my face to the sky and feel each drop upon my skin as it seeps into my pores.

And I will rejoice in the rain - with singing and praising and laughing and dancing and shouting.

I am praying for rain on my fields.

That D@MN Dog

I have a dog. His name is Fez. He's a four year old Australian Terrier mix that I've had for about eight months. I got him from this chick that works in my building. She was giving him away because her four year old daughter was too rough with him and he'd snapped at her a couple of times.

Fez and I have an interesting relationship. From the time that I walk in the door, he's on my heels. If I'm in the kitchen cooking, he's sitting right in the entryway. If I'm relaxing on the couch watching television, he's lying under the coffee table. When I go into my office to do some work, he plops down dangerously close to the wheels of my chair. (I have to remember he's there to keep from rolling over him.) When I get in the bed, he curls up in a ball at the foot of it - on the floor, of course. In the mornings, when I'm in the bathroom getting dressed for work, he posts up right at the bathroom door. (I guess he's trying to make sure that I look okay before I leave.)

His clinginess tends to be aggravating. But he can't help it. One of the best things about Fez. He doesn't bark, EVER, well HARDLY ever. I can't stand dogs that are always yapping. On occasion, his ears will pick up the sound of footsteps approaching my door and he will stand at attention, emit a growl and perhaps a bark or two, but for the most part, he remains pretty silent. Another thing that I like about him, he doesn't shed excessively. i HATE cleaning animal hair.

I learned have learned something from sharing living space with Fez. I am NOT an animal lover. Sure, he and I peacefully co-exist. On occasion, he makes me laugh. More often, he makes me mad. But this past Saturday night, when he went MIA for a couple of hours, Wise suggested that we search the neighborhood looking for him. Because I wasn't feeling all panicky and alarmed that he was gone, I declined.

Fez knew the way home, besides, it was cold outside.

Small Ripple

in a Big Pond...

So, little o' me started a petition to support Ryan Cameron. Big deal. Others were thinking of it. I just happened to be the first one out of the gate.

It was quite a novelty to me to be contacted by Rodney Ho from the AJC's Radio Talk Blog.

And to learn that my name was in today's Peach Buzz was as my dear friend AggWit would say was the shitiastic.

I am kicking myself because I did not do something that I consistently coach my clients about - self promotion. In talking to Mr. Ho (which I get a real kick out of saying his name), I simply identified myself by the job that I go to on a daily basis and failed to mention my novel in progress and my poetry and my dreams of becoming a motivational speaker. Yes - I know...dumb, dumb, dumb.

Oh well, all is good just the same. My intent for starting the petition was not to call attention to myself but to offer the supporters of the Ryan King a forum in which to voice their opinions.

In looking back at the wording of the actual petition itself, I should have had another set of eyes look over it to proofread it. There are a couple of grammatical errors that have been irking the f*ck out of me since I noticed them about ten minutes after I first posted the link.

Also, my actual signature was a bit disrespectful of the remaining crew members. A show of support for them would have not been too far out of line.

Regardless of the clarity in hindsight, it will be interesting to see the how all this works out. I just want my Ryan Cameron Morning Show back.

The Rest of the Story

Call it the curse of being a Libra, but I have a tendency to be able to consider all sides of a situation. Or perhaps it was the email that I received from a certain individual who has an inside look at the current RC situation.

The opinions stated in regards to remaining crew members were not an attempt to discredit their contributions to the success of the show.

I do realize that, as an ensemble cast, each member of the show has a 'role' to fill. Just as I am aware that a large portion of what we hear as a part of the show are the 'characters' that each crew member has been chosen to play. I understand that right now they are like the Jacksons with no Michael, like Good Times with no JJ and like Destiny's Child with no Beyonce.

I sympathize with them in how difficult their jobs must be at this point. Forbidden from mentioning the very cornerstone of their jobs, an individual who they are bonded with and who has taken them under their wings and mentored them and who I am sure is like family.

So, chin up, ladies of The Hot 107.9 Morning Show. Maintain your positions and do the best you can with what you've got. And forgive me for not recognizing your pain earlier.

Talk about work related stress.

It's a good thing that you are only on air four hours a day.

The Ryan King

Photo taken from Kemi Lane's Site

I must really love me some Ryan Cameron. I woke up this morning to an unprecedented four songs in a row on Hot 107.9 - which in a way, was good. It is rather unfortunate that the remaining crew members and the weak talent that is Jerry Sma-Moking B just DON'T do it for me.

The gaping hole that has been left by the departure of the UNDISPUTED Ryan King is obvious. None of the names that I have heard bandied about as possible replacements could even come close to filling the shoes of our beloved Bankhead Ambassador.

Not to discount the contributions made by the other crew members - Rashan, the ultimate "Yes" Man, er, I mean, Woman, CJ, the token very average White Girl and Beyonce, who well, just seems continually misunderstood.

It's mucked up how a little thing such as the non-renewal of a radio personality's contract can change your morning routine. Don't they know that the Chris Tucker Rap is the time keeper for the commute of most Atlantans?

Oh...the horror...don't they know what they've done? ? ?

My life is different and it's Radio One's fault. Okay, maybe i OVER exaggerate, but y'all get my drift.

and of course you've got to check out the petition...

SUPPORT RYAN CAMERON!!!

Somebody killed Miss Janice

I was listening to the radio this morning and on one of the news segments. They reported that Riverdale Police are looking for the person or persons who killed Miss Janice.

Miss Janice lived at the closed down Amoco on Georgia Highway 85 at the corner of Bethsaida Road. Once the business left, Miss Janice moved in. She relocated from under the tree at the Walmart across the street.

I met Miss Janice one afternooon before she moved. I was leaving the Walmart and she flagged me down. I stopped because I thought she was somebody's grandmother. She didn't really talk, just kept making these sounds. Since she was wandering out in traffic, I helped her back over to where her little campsite was. I gave her a few dollars and not knowing what else to do, I went on my way.

I can't remember when I first noticed that Miss Janice had moved her campsite to the Amoco. One morning the red light caught me at the Bethsaida Road corner and I looked over and there she was - sitting in her sleeping bag under the shelter by one of the gas pump islands just out of the rain.

Most mornings, I would zoom right by, but on red light mornings, I would always look for Miss Janice. Some mornings, I would see her gray hair poking up out of her sleeping bag or some mornings, she would be just sitting there watching the world go by.

And now, she's not there.