Naturally Selecting Blogs

I have never embraced change. At least change that I didn’t ask for. The only change I welcome without protest is the kind that jingles (or folds) #ComingToAmerica. And, because I live on both sides of every spectrum, though I hate change – I’ll roll with it. I will just be very honest with you about my feelings for said change – while doing it. Because comprehension (or agreement) is not a requisite for completion. This is a consequence of being hella coachable.

photo: Elite Property Research, LLC

What’s the change I’m having trouble with? This. This here blog production. It was started for one purpose, and purpose one alone – running. Only, it’s been about more than running. I did it as a lost bet (kinda) to Alica Keykey or something like that, because I wrote a letter to the Competitor Group that she felt like everyone should read. So I’ve been regaling you these tales from the pavement. I sometimes told you about other things – but it’s been like 90% running, 10% the tangents I’ve so called my life. Then it got to like 80%/20% which you know is a heated debate for the culture, so I began to feel some kind of way. When I got to the C grade, I was like whoa – this is levels of underachieving I’ve never known.

Then I had to think about my feelings. And yall know how I feel about those. Feelings and telling the innanets all ya’business – ‘cause I hate that. I know so many life stories from FB, IG, and tweets that I never wanted to (know/) be that person. It just so happens I have been that person – but it’s on this here blog thing, so you like have to click on it to see it, so it’s kind of exactly the same but not really. Stop judging me.

Anyway, this is going to be about running, and running a bunch of other things. I needed running really bad a few years ago. A few of those boxes of darkness I received had me believing something like #14in2014 would be impossible. And I still need it – just not like I need other things. Because humans change, and need an assortment of stuff, and even when it’s hard – we naturally select. So you evolve whether you want to or avoid it.

After all, it’s not like change is always a bad thing. If you can believe it, there was a time when I *brace yourself* hated wine. Remember that trip to Napa, Pops & MO.m? Yall, all the wine was wasted on a twenty-something who thought she knew everything. Not only was it wasted, I had the nerve to be slightly hung-over after it.

Okay, change is a good thing. I have successfully convinced myself. Today. As I write this. Right now.

I won’t agree with this tomorrow, so bookmark your receipt. 

Opened Boxed of Darkness #andothermistakes

My cousin is a healer. She is a nurse and a lawyer. I admire her so much for this (and other reasons). She has the perfect mix of empathy and accountability, especially in relationships, that she could probably give Iyanla a run for her money. But my cuzzo ain’t got time for that because she is actually fixing lives with pain meds and billable hours. Wait, whoa…I just realized right now that ALL OF HER HOURS are technically billable hours. Wow. My cuzzo is on the come up for real. Yall, my genetic lineage is full of greatness. *insert a Kendrick lamar ‘damn’ here*

But, relationships. She reins Queen above all us peasants when it comes to closure. Again, admiration, and a little adoration. She does this so well because of all her formal and informal training #SheWasRaisedRight. She will heal you emotionally because she really cares. Let you get all of your feelings in order, all the time you need, be all the understanding there is in this dying world, THEN order you to render that which is hers unto her in the form of admitting all the ways you effed up (or having her do it – she’ll let you choose which way to pay).

‘Cause all accounts come due eventually, and just like student loan debt, even if you file for bankruptcy, you still owe bruh.

I, on the other hand, do the exact opposite – because while I was raised as rightly as she, I am no healer. If you leave me, then, well, eff you and the horse you rode in on too #butstilliwalked. Hell I look like closing something already closed? #NahSon

I feel like forgiveness and closure goes as far as me not praying for bad things to happen to you. Also, never ever praying for good things to happen to you. Like why in the world would I do that? What sense does that make? See, if something awesome happens to you after you leave me – Look at God. And, when you reap the awful you sowed after your departure then – Look. At. God. #WontHeDoIt? #OhYesHeWill

Who am I to interfere with the majesty and mystery of the Lord? His will be done. He ain’t never needed my help or intervention.

Why in the world would I make you better for another person? So you could be better to them? My name is not Chuck... #AintNoGoodLuckBih That sounds dumb as hell. What about me, fam? I didn’t deserve the better version of you? Sure, everybody ain’t for this one somebody, and you can learn a lesson from every relationship regardless of how it ends, but uh…you gonna need a tutor brah-brah. The only meds I take? My wine club membership...and if you think I’m sharing that with you see: sweet potato cookies.

What’s the point of brining this up now? Well, I tried out my cousin’s advice. I sought out closure when an opportunity presented itself. Presented…because I did not seek such a “gift” out. No sir. No ma’am. No mx. I put that little box of darkness in the closet with all the others and kept it pushin.

This last time my lil raggedy feelings got hurt, I let it go. It was actually how I “welcomed” the New Year. Side Note #1: I have taken SO MANY L’s this year…2017 is a bih. In the most adult way I could (read: teenage way, I am no adult) I helped myself build a bridge through it – acknowledging how I felt and not rushing myself across. Then, I ignored it completely, and folded some cranes in the skies over me hoping to feel something like healing.

He called. Months and months later. Good morning summer and heart ache – there was no sunshine. Called for no other reason, I suppose, than to disturb my attempting peace. The call ended strangely, without ever speaking to elephants in our respective rooms separated by time zones. Days later, I took my pain meds and disturbed his actual peace. I told myself I would ask the ‘what happened’ question and let him answer. Whatever he said, I would hear it, and I would move on. Because that’s closure, right? Side Note #2: I never actually asked my cousin what went into ‘closure’, like the actual steps in the conversation or process. I totally winged it with a glass of Riesling. While I still haven’t inquired about this, I think I know that the last part isn’t supposed to be part of the process. This is why I’m adult-adjacent.

The level of pissedivity I felt on the phone using my free minutes for a phone call I made but would not hang up cannot be described with my current level of literary skill. Where is Terry McMillian? I was a montage of so many emotions that I finally understood what my Daddie must have felt when he tossed that cat into a pack of dogs. I wanted to do awful hoodrat things all alone for the sheer pleasure of others suffering in the most excruciating ways – and live long enough to tell my kids about it, laughing. Because, #EffYoEffinFeelings. At one point in the wasting of my free minutes he brought up my not following up on things I said I would do when he straight up ghosted me. 

This fool wanted me to be like, hey, I know you don’t talk to me anymore on purpose, but um, here is all the stuff (read: benefits of being WITH me and/or calling me with frequency) I said I would give you and do. Have a blessed day that the Lord made. Be glad in it. Yall, the devil comes for my neck and my back and my cell phone reception regularly. How much more shall I render unto ‘ships that have that have long since set sail? I prayed to never know what he was whispering, ‘yonce. But, there I was, right there with you, listening…and praying, oddly enough #fordifferentthingstho.

So, pissed, petty, and full of pain meds I stayed on the line. Eventually, he realized that this wasn’t the best idea so he ended the conversation. I knew when I called this was dumb, but science #TestTheTheory. I guess that’s part of closure, though. One person being adult enough (because neither of us were very adult) to just end it.

What did I learn?

I am better off not praying either way for you and letting God have His way. It helps me enjoy the Riesling so much more than this ‘talking about it’ mess. I will just leave closure up to the experts – like my cuzzo. She got the right stuff in her to do it. Sure it’s hard, and when it’s hard and challenging it’s worth it. But do you know what’s more difficult than that? All the Riesling being gone when the conversation ends. There was only red wine left, yall!!! *angry emoji face*

I never want to know THAT kind of pain and heart ache again.

Anyway, I’ve never been one to mourn dead things – even the things I loved above all others. And…I have, well, you know what I have in me. That and sweet potato cookies are really only good for a party.

So, I should just do that. #GameNightComingSoon

Addiction Is Real #VivaLaResistance #boycott

Addiction is real, yo. No jokes.

My name was given to me by my dearly departed father, and I am addicted to professional football. My addiction started at the moment of my birth. Knowing that the professional football season was almost upon the land, I decided to depart my dearly infirmed mother during the pre-season, as to not interrupt the opening of the football season. Knowing that my father would want to have some company for the first Dallas Cowboys game of the year, I came to the earth in time to have full control of my senses to enjoy Sunday morning, afternoon, evening, and Monday night football. We would spend a few decades doing football together. Even to live long enough to see Thursday night football. #BecauseWeAreAblessedPeople #FootballAlmostEveryDay

Even at my birth I have been sacrificially selfless, putting the needs of others before me. I am the epitome of humility. Try it sometime.

Am I making fun of addiction? Absolutely not. If I go longer than a week without being in a mall the internal functioning of my organs go into survival mode. Let me not get the notification of my wine shipment – woes be until the next person I see after that missing email. And if you wrinkle the packaging on my sweet potato cookies, be assured, it will be my genuine pleasure to arrange the meeting for you and the Master. #Hawkeye #Creasy

Addiction is real, yo.

Which is the point of giving up football this season. We’ve spent so much time talking about what Colin has done, and what the NFL did to him in retaliation, we haven’t been talking about all the people murdered in the path of the debate. He just wanna be out here fully human and exercising his rights to live and throw a football, but that’s too much to ask. I wouldn’t hire Blaine Gabbert to throw trash away (and I despise taking out the trash), and you’re defending the NFL? Just, no. If Blaine is on your FF team, then you intentionally decided to come in last place. You didn’t even draft him. Which. Is. The. Point.

nflkneeldown.com

So some of us other humans have been faced with the non-alternative facts that we’re standing for a flag that is kind of actually doing nothing about the killing of other humans like us and maybe we should do something. And, since protesting, speaking out, and donating to worthy causes hasn’t seemed to fix it yet (keep doing that tho, fam) we decided to set our gaze in other places because the homey sat – and kneeled.

In the process, we managed to wake up, drink water, and mind our own non-watching NFL business on Sunday. That was not good enough. Because so many of you out there, woke up, sipped tea, and came up with all the reasons why this is stupid I bet Kap ain’t missing no games… and how we won’t make it But you gonna watch SportsCenter & play in your Fantasy Football league tho… May all your blowouts be sweated out in the winter and your line ups look like Dre’s from the #ChopShop episode. The man is a professional football player. That’s like me leaving higher education and not following the disaster that is devos to title ix. It has been my entire life – for my entire adult-ish life. The contradiction and hypocrisy is key. We are humans. Humans are walking contradictions and hypocrites. Don’t believe me? Look in your mirror. See...there you are - witcho’human self. Looking all mammal and what not.

Kap just want us to be fully realized and regarded as human beings – because there are some people who get to do it (read: YOU know WHO), and others who don’t (read: probably, YOU). Humans do things that are contrary to living a full and healthy life (read: drinking three swirls) and get to live the next day to maybe decide better. Shouldn’t we all be able to live in such a way? Also, this is me telling you NOT to have three swirls. Like, do the opposite of this thing and some other stuff I do. But if you decide to protest for you, that’s cool.

Kirby Lee - USA Today Sports

So, what? Why does that matter? Why do you care if I half-ass a protest anyway? There is money to be made in some FF leagues…and you have no idea how long Around The Horn & P.T.I & me been in this thang! Those are my real life TV friends that don’t know me at all. I love them, yall. We go way back like my Cadillac. You half-ass your workouts all the time, but you don’t see me out here in these innanet streets discouraging you. You miss the point of the protest completely because….Some. People. Are. Still. Dying. Some people are still being harassed by the police. Some people with hella scrilla-scratch that look like me get pinned down on Las Vegas streets. And you’re out here using your energy to criticize me? Trash. You’re basura, bro. Like la ordure I wouldn’t pay Dan Orlovsky to throw out...the back of the endzone. This is what this dude is KNOWN for. Remember that? How did these dudes make NFL rosters before Kap? #NahSon #ImWithKap #SoManyQuestions #ThatIhaveAllTheAnswersFor.

At work, I had the privilege (read: other duties as assigned) to give out 49er vs Panther tickets for this recent game. I put the call out to the students. One student in particular, conflicted, asked me about the tickets. Hey, are you still protesting football? Yea man, it’s so hard *neck scratch*, I didn’t realize how many other things I would have to stop doing. I can’t even watch sports shows because it makes me want to watch the games. I know…it’s just we had that conversation in training, and I really want to not watch, but you said the tickets were free, fam. I don’t know what to do. Sweetie…I have no reason to judge you. If you want to go to the game, it’s cool. Go and have fun. It’s not like I never went to a professional football game before. You have to find your own way to do it. Just like I need you to drink your water and mind your own business, I’m gulping these smart waters and crying real tears – alone.

Because that’s the other point. I have always known there was something not exactly okay about professional football. I avoided it, because we never want to face the things we love with a critical eye. The paradox of education is precisely this - that as one begins to become conscious one begins to examine the society in which he is being educated. #JamesBaldwin #BecauseWhenYouKnow #dobetter. More than that, we never want to leave them because we can’t imagine our lives without them. Our lives will always be less, we assume, so we might indulge a little less, but we never let go completely.

A friend of mine got drafted some years ago. I remember being super excited for him at his draft party. Laughing about our college days just recently passed. Speaking fame and fortune into his football future. Eventually we got to a conversation about the combine – because that had to be the dopest thing ever, right? About how he was “labeled” with a number. Because it makes sense to replace a name given to a person with all the love people have in their world with a number. It’s easier to replace a whole human with a whole digit, yall. Every part of his body, his grandma prayed over daily, measured. Once pride filled gazes from loved ones turned into gawking scouts with clipboards. Made to perform athletic feats at the sounds of whistles and starting stopwatches. Being examined, critiqued, timed, and debated behind is running down the field back. 4.4 seconds locked in an eternity. Hoping, perhaps, to be good enough to be “selected” when he was and still is one of a chosen people already. To do all the things he just did, in all the ways he had just done them, in front of millions, week after week, to be criticized because he makes millions (if he was “lucky” to) week after week. This sounds amazing. We should watch the product of this all day Sunday, Monday night, and Thursday night – forsaking all other activities.

Patrick Risha CTA Awareness Foundation

This is what I had to face. And so–the–eff–what it took me forever to see myself for what I was doing. People who smoke, drink, do illicit drugs, and a whole host of other things face the mirror too late (for some) too, and we welcome them back to the road to recovery. I have so much joy for people who choose daily to live their lives as a better version of themselves. The same can be said for us choosing to give up football. Sure, watching sports isn’t a death sentence to a fan, but if CTE is proof of anything, it’s that football IS killing somebody(’s son).

Sunday felt strange. It was my first day without professional football. I had all those impulses I had before – who am I watching the game with? …where am I watching the game? …dear God if you bless me with my perfectly smoked portion of wings and bar nachos, I will be satisfied. …what beer am I gonna waste today? #iMissYouSoMuchNaShaun #YouTooKRD #YouSoLoyalToMeAndMyBeerOrders. After all of that, I went for a run.

It’s also the first time I won’t be able to talk about football with Daddie. And, if i'm honest, him not being here makes it a little easier to do. Guess I’m just getting started with having more firsts. #MaryJackson #HiddenFigures #ShutUpTAT