Campaign Financing: An Alternate POV

I’m hardly an expert on federal politics. The mass majority of my “nuts and bolts” knowledge is on the state level. That said, I know the importance of campaign finances and spending.

How can I not? The president sends me emails about it every day. There is also the fact that I was in a doctoral program and spent much of my first year studying ads, but I digress.

Happy Birthday, Granny

Contrary to what most may believe, the majority of these things are not personal.

This one is.

Today would have been my paternal grandmother’s 100^th birthday. It’s not the easiest thing to talk about, but as many in my family know…talking about Granny since she passed never has been. Matter of fact, I’m going to put the over/under of “times I tear up writing this” at 3.5 - and I may only end up taking the under because I’m writing this at work. Anyway, it’s supposed to be that way. I’m supposed to feel like this. I’m supposed to feel terrible that I’m reduced to writing this note as opposed to being at home with my family. I’m supposed to feel bad that I can’t go to the northwest corner of 19^th and 31^st to put flowers on her grave.

Why am I supposed to feel this way? The reason is simple: I lost more than a grandmother on May 25, 1996. I lost something else too on that day - and so did many other people - but I didn’t realize it until later. First, a little bit on how losing a grandmother was more than enough.

I’m not going to say my grandmother was a perfect person. She certainly wasn’t the grandmother from one of these TV shows (okay, so she somewhat resembled Sophia from ‘The Golden Girls’) who did nothing but bake apple pies and never had a mean bone in her body. She would get with you if she needed to. Wouldn’t think twice about it, either. And woe be unto you if you had it coming from her, whether verbal or physical.

Here’s the thing, though: through all the whuppings - not spankings, whuppings- that she handed out, everyone loved her. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. Inside or outside my family, she may be one of a handful of people that I’ve never heard anyone say anything bad about. Like I said before, she wasn’t that always-smiling stereotypical grandmother…but it didn’t matter. Everyone loved Granny, and everyone respected Granny.

I haven’t seen Soul Food in a long time, but if I remember the gist of the movie it mirrors my view of my family’s life. The other thing that Granny provided - and that we lost after she passed - was her ability to hold our family together. As most people reading this know, I have a rather large extended family. Group dynamics and simple odds dictate that one large group will eventually turn into multiple smaller groups. Granny kept that from happening. Looking back, I’m not sure how she did it. It’s not like she demanded that we have huge family gatherings every holiday, but we did. She didn’t say to go to this person’s house or that person’s house, but we did. We just found a way to stay together while she was with us…and then things changed.

In full disclosure, I may be magnifying this a bit because Granny’s passing coincided with the time I left for FAMU. Even then, things didn’t quite feel the same when I came home. The family gatherings were smaller. Some people didn’t come around as much. Some relatives only visited with each other. Things just didn’t seem the same. We were a lot more segmented. This has gotten closer to how it used to be, but it’s still not the same. Now it seems that some relatives have either given up or been ex-communicated from their seats at the proverbial table because of past actions or current habits.

In a family, everyone is obviously not going to agree with everything that everyone else does. I don’t agree with a lot of things my family members have done, and I’m sure that quite a few of them don’t agree with a lot of things I’ve done. However, I can’t think of one relative I have who I wouldn’t invite to a gathering and I’d like to think that no one would dissociate with me in such a manner - or at least not be upset if I showed up somewhere with some notice. Nowhere in any definition of ‘family’ have I seen that a single accord in action and belief is a prerequisite. I’ve also never seen where inviting someone to your home is a tacit statement that you condone every single one of their life choices (if that were the case, I’d be welcome in a lot fewer homes than I am now).

That’s what Granny got. She might not have agreed with everything you did…and there was a pretty good chance that she’d voice any disagreement she had…but she didn’t shut you out. That wasn’t in her nature. You’d get talked about like a dog - and if Granny talked about you that way, you most likely deserved it - but she was always happy to have you in her life, the same way everyone was (and still is) happy to have her in theirs.

As is often the case with the younger populace, I failed to appreciate everything that Granny had to offer. I’m not talking about the dollar or two that she gave me for my birthday or Christmas: I cherished those much more than the larger monetary gifts I got from others simply because they were from her. I failed to appreciate her wisdom, her experience, her loving heart, her ability to keep the family together…until it was too late. When I got to high school and especially when I started driving, my parents would ask me to go to her house…but I didn’t go nearly often enough. Sixteen years later, I still haven’t forgiven myself for those decisions. I’m not sure I ever will.

Maybe that guilt has something to do with why I still have a TV in my apartment that hasn’t worked all that well for a year and a half (it was given to me after she passed). Maybe it’s the appreciation that I have now that leaves me almost sick with myself for being able to do nothing more than write a lousy note to commemorate what would have been her 100^th birthday. Maybe that’s why I hold on so close to the memories that I do have. Maybe that’s why I’m on occurrence #6 - first full paragraph, in case anyone forgot. Maybe it’s a big part of the reason why I want to move back home, and why money matters less with each passing day. Maybe that’s why I tell everyone I can to spend every minute possible with their grandparents and older relatives, to seize the opportunities that I didn’t.

Or maybe that last paragraph has nothing to do with guilt. Maybe I’m just someone who loves and misses his grandmother. Maybe I wish I could hear her talk about working in a pizza parlor while hating pizza. Maybe I wish I could hear her call one of my cousins by a name that no one else ever dared use. Maybe I miss the way she always made me feel better while I was sick. Maybe I miss the mango tree in her yard. Maybe I miss Libra. Maybe I just miss having the chance to say…

…happy birthday, Granny.

Raising The Bar

As we put another Father’s Day in the rearview mirror, it’s time to look at how we men choose who we want to be fathers with. Some of us do great jobs regarding the selection process. Some of us do not. Those of us who don’t do such a great job end up paying for it - literally and figuratively - for a long time. For those of us who have avoided the pitfall (or just don’t want to experience it again), how do we avoid it?

It’s really simple: tighten up the selection process and raise the bar.

Follows, Friends, and Father's Day

Earlier this week I said I was going to unfollow/unfriend anyone who used Sunday to man-bash. I meant it. Still mean it. Here are a few reasons for that.

News Flash: Women Are People Too

We men are funny people sometimes.

One of our biggest issues is that we tend to objectify women.

Before y'all think I'm applying for a job at NOW, let me explain this.

Why Brent Musburger Should Not Apologize

Alright, so there's a HuffPost article in which the author is mad at - and demanding an apology from - Brent Musburger for referring to Tommie Smith and Juan Carlos as "black-skinned storm troopers" in an article.

Ease back: I'm not going to defend Musburger's comment. Instead I'm going to rationalize it using four statements.

The South Shall Rise Again (But It's Already Above The North)

I’ve been meaning to go in on something for a really long time. Some of y’all won’t like this, but some of y’all will. Anyway, long intros are becoming less my thing…so let’s get to it.

Some of y’all slay me on these social networks talking about how the north (or ‘east coast’, if so inclined) is so much better than everywhere else. I don’t know who lied to y’all, but someone apparently did. This whole “slow country bumpkin” nonsense needs to quit.

A Bad Boy And A Scholar(ship)

So the world is abuzz about Justin Combs - Diddy’s son: you know, the one with the restaurant named after him - getting a scholarship at UCLA. Apparently some people have an issue with it since pops throws around money like it burns in his hands.

Why We Cry When Musicians Die

I remember someone asking the question on Facebook of why people get all out of sorts when musicians die. "You didn't know Tupac. You didn't go to school with Aaliyah. Why does it matter so much to you?"

The answer, as I explained in a reply on the friend's post where I saw it, is simple.

Get Over Yourself Day

We have all these holidays, probably more than we need. Some are religious, some are patriotic, some are man-made. Many have been commercialized beyond repair. I still don’t get why we get more days off for Thanksgiving than for Christmas, but whatever. All that said, I propose another holiday that needs to be on the books…

…”Get Over Yourself” Day.

Opportunity

Opportunity is a funny thing…well, to be more correct, we act funny when it comes to opportunity. We always talk about how much we want it, and then it comes and we - well, act funny.

If a new professional opportunity comes up, we start to wonder about the corresponding changes we’ll have to make if we take the opportunity. Will I have to move? Will I get along with new people? What about the old people? Am I leaving something behind?

Two Steps

I found out a few minutes ago that Junior Seau died, apparently from a self-inflicted shot to the chest. This makes me feel odd in a number of ways: some of which are more relevant than others.

The main thought I have is “what in the world made him kill himself: he had money, fame, respect, and if he picked five women on any random day he could probably get with four of them”. Just goes to show that in his case and that of other athletes who’ve committed similar acts, we as fans don’t know what’s going on in their heads.

Six Tips...And Thoughts On Those Tips

Ed. note: I don't know how I had this in my queue for so long (almost a year), but since it makes no sense to keep it there and I likely still agree with it, here it is...

Ran across a Marni Kinrys article on CNN (http://www.cnn.com/2011/LIVING/07/14/how.to.pick.up.girls/index.html) that gave men six tips on dating. Article text is in bold and regular type, comments are in italics.

(CNN) -- You have to think about picking up girls the exact same way you think about picking up a box. You just do it. Seriously. After working with thousands of men all around the world, I have found that the common issue holding men back with women is that "thing" on top of their shoulders. It thinks, analyzes and makes excuses, so rejection is self-inflicted before women even get a chance to do it.

Here are six secrets men need to know about women to help them stop that "thing" in their head from destroying their dating life:

No, I'm Not Perfect

I promised myself I wouldn’t try to rationalize or sugar-coat these things (at least individually). At the same time, I will say that I have little to no interest in changing them. My imperfections make me ‘me’ the same way that my positive attributes do. It’s all part of the same package.

*Note: none of these will be physical. If you think my being short or skinny is an imperfection, then…nah, won’t go there.

The Fabulous Straight-Edge Life

Over the last month I’ve mentioned CM Punk and his straight-edge lifestyle quite a bit. I’ve also gone into my own “straight-edgeness” (if you will) and related it to that of Punk and his ongoing storyline with Chris Jericho.

Don’t worry: this one won’t focus on wrestling much, if at all.

Why I Want to Join Mensa

I think I’ve mentioned to a few people that I’m interested in joining Mensa. Might have even mentioned it in a previous entry. I don’t think I ever got into why I have this particular interest, so I’ll do that now.

Why I'm Never Getting Married

So I’ve finally figured out the main reason why I need not ever get married. It came to me in the form of a question that someone posed on Facebook. The question was…

…after you get married, who should be the most important person in your life: your mother or your spouse?

The Unattractiveness of Being Smart

Sometimes I run across tweets that inspire me to write. This would happen to be one of those times.

One of my Twitter peoples retweeted a woman saying she’d take a smart man over an attractive man.

Anyone got the number for BS? I need to make a call.

 

Thinking Like A Man

Yes, this is about the movie.

Yes, I am going to see it.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way (yes, that's a Steve Harvey shout out), let's get to it.

The Best Wrestler of All Time

Saw a tweet asking whether the Undertaker was the best wrestler of all time since he’s been in 20 WrestleManias (and if you need to ask how he’s done in those 20, please exit stage left). My immediate answer was no; as names like Austin, Hogan, Michaels, and Flair came to mind. Then I started thinking: they have their warts too. I’ll get to those below, but it’s really interesting how arguments would have to vary about who the best wrestler of all time is. Let’s look at some guys (I’m sorry, but there isn’t a female wrestler I can put up there) and see their cases.