Long Weekends That Suck

I've really screwed up having not planned anything either concrete or leisurely for the MLK Weekend. Here in B-more, we are blessed to have a bunch of different things to do to give reverence to the ancestors who fought for our civil rights. There is the Black in Wax Museum. If you are taking children under 5, don't bother. There are some displays that make even some adults jittery. There is also the Reginald Lewis Museum of African American History. It's a brand new museum that has displays of its namesake and other African American heroes. To those who don't know, Reginald Lewis was the first black billionaire and the first majority black owner of a publically held company.

Friday night....Brother Kojak was in the doghouse. I got home from work tired as hell. They worked me like a dog all week and I had the white flag up by 2:00. Needless to say, I was tired as hell, but we were scheduled to go salsa dancing with some of the wife's co-workers. "Not I" said the fly. I got me a 40 and some Lay's Ba-B-Que chips and that's what was gonna be up. I told her to go ahead without me because I was beat. That didn't go over well; apparently that was my way of doing something else while she was gone. Now what that could have been given my fatigue level, our sone being with me, and about $3.82 in my pocket I don't know. And just as I predicted, I was out by 10:30.

HOWEVA!

The phone rings. Its Mrs. Kojak. Waking me up.
Me: Wassup?
Mrs. Kojak: I'm lost.
Me: Where you at?
Mrs. Kojak: On Broadway. I just past Fairmount.
Me: **gaddamn! The fucken place is ON Broadway!!!** Ok. Broadway is one big hill. If you are going down the hill, u going the right direction.
Mrs. Kojak: I just past Fayette.
Me: Riiight! **repeat what I just said** The club will be on the right.
Mrs. Kojak: uh....I see the Apex Theatre. I'm crossing Lombard.
Me: **sigh** Ok. You're there for the most part after you cross Lombard. Park.
Mrs. Kojak: Where should I park?
Me: Any damn where.
Mrs. Kojak: Ok, I'm parked. **walking** Oh! There is the club right there!

Sunday I realized that I have a little bit of Real Man in me. Me and Glueman went to workout and had an abbreviated workout. We have a tendency to talk and he gave me an observation that blew my mind. I couldn't focus after that. He and I hung out a little after that, and I went home to clean the debris from my front yard. We had some serious high winds Saturday and one of the huge tree limbs fell in the front yard. Since I don't do SHIT else, I had to chop it up and move it somewhere else. I borrowed Glueman's ax. Huge mistake. That ax was duller than the tip of my dizzat. When I hit the limb with it, it was more like beating it than anything else. Luckily I had my magical machete from the southern isolated regions of the ancient Mayan empire to assist me. Chop with machete, beat with ax. Chop with machete, beat with ax. Then my neighbor comes over (God bless him. I know the name of his dog, but not him). He looks at the ax and says "Good grief! That is REALLY dull." Then he peeks over the limb: "What's that?!?!?"
Oh shit. I think I scared him..
Me: What....this? **pointing towards my holstered machete**
HelloNeighbor: Yeah
Me: **in my opera singin' voice** It's my mache-te!!!!!
HelloNeighbor: That's not a machete!
Me: What?!?!?! What the fu....what are talking about. What is it then?
HelloNeighbor: Let me see that. **holding it** Hmmm. Good weight on it. I guess you could call it a machete. A little small for one, but ok.
Me: Mmmm hmmm. Yeah.

Talkin' bout my damn machete. He musta lost his damn mind. I still got love for him though. He went back to the crib and brought back a sharper ax and a saw. He helped me cut a few limbs and then left saying "have fun!".

The short story long of this was I actually could do real man's work. I stood out there in the cold chopping wood and lifting it and carrying it just like my grand daddy and his grand daddy did. And even more like the ancestors, I had a white man telling me what was up. How 'bout that??? I did a post on real man's work a couple years ago. I was proud of that work. Check it out.

I was too lazy to do a post about the great Dr. King, so I want you to also read last year's post. I will be celebrating the holiday with a dive into how the media made one of its first attempts at crossover entertainment. What might this be? Why, Fat Albert of course! Fat Albert was the 1st cartoon to be about Black kids in the hood of Philly. What was great about it was that they had the same problems that kids anywhere else of any other color had. Cartoons are one of the few ways to bridge the generation gap between parent and child. But I digress (as usual). Enjoy your day back to work and keep on with the keepin' on. (Especially you, KC)