thanks for asking folks. didn’t know that anyone cared. anyhoot, i’ll be back very soon – about a week. brotha is goin through changes… such is life. thank God for therapy, LA Fitness, My Ipod…
stay up
kd
Posts Tagged ‘Life
09
Dec
08
i’ll be back soon. i promise…
15
Oct
08
My “Recession 08″ Survival Tips…
My name is not Hank Paulson nor am I an economist. Nonetheless, I feel quite comfortable and confident (damn near cocky) in asserting that our economy is F’d up. And the so called experts are still scrambling to figure things out. I think.
Yeah, I know the DOW surged on Monday. My reaction, “That’s cute”. However, it doesn’t signal that we are out of the woods. Quite the contrary. It’s the credit crisis and the slowing global economy, not the DOW, that we should focus our fleeting attention on. And the unsettling fact of the matter is that we have yet to suffer the real fall out of this incipient economic crisis. In plain speak, it is going to get worse before it gets better. Again, I’m no expert. I’m no doom & gloomer. But I can see the writing on the wall. As far as I can detect, the tell-tell signs of a failing economy are ubiquitous. Allow me to share a personal example that illustrates my point. Over the last month, I’ve observed increasing numbers of well-to-do White Hyde Parkers shun the over-priced Treasure Island Supermarket for the very cornerstoreesque Village Foods. I don’t know about you, but when upper-middle class White folks start braving certi-saver products, the stench of decaying flesh (fresh meat section), lotto lines out the door, and wine-heads paying for a 5th with loose change, it’s time for a brotha to adjust accordingly. That said, below is an abbreviated list of the belt-tightening measures that I’m taking to weather our Country’s financial downturn.
Hair Cuts: I’m cut my own hair. You can do the same. Go to Wal-Mart and cop a Wahl or Oster Home Hair Care Kit. I prefer Oster, the design of the blades seems better suited for Black hair. The key to success w/ do-it-yourself hair cuts is to resist the urge to try anything fancy. Trust me, I’ve seen many a hairline disappear – forever – because someone got a little too overconfident in their home hair care abilities. Keep it simple. This is more about function than style. The point is to keep up a well groomed appearance. If absolutely necessary, every now and then, you can visit your Barber/Stylist for a professional lining. My barber (Ishat Hyde Park Hair Salon) doesn’t really charge me for this service, but I’ll usually hit him off with a budget-sensitive tip of $2-$3.
Costco: This is pretty self-explanatory. I buy in bulk. And this may take away from my street cred, but I create and use a grocery list. I strongly encourage you to do the same. Freestyle impulse shopping ain’t the best look right now. I’m a devotee of Costco. From my experience Costco has the best bulk variety to choose from. As an added come-up, If you go at the right time, you can make a substantial meal by grazing at the numerous food sampling stations set up in damn near every aisle of the store.
Food/Cooking: Lately I’ve been stocking up on more starches than usual. I’m trying my best to stick with the complex starches/carbs: whole grain breads and pastas; yams or yellow potatoes instead of white potatoes; brown rice instead of white. I always have plenty of health/protein bars stashed away as well. A note of caution, please resist the urge to stock up on processed or pre-packaged foods. Too much sodium. I don’t want Black folks to emerge from this special period with high(er) blood pressure and diabetes. In terms of cooking, on Sunday afternoons or early evening while watching football, I try to prepare a gigantic meal or two that’ll carry me through the week e.g. chili, lasagna, soups, stews, etc. An additional benefit of soup/stew style meals is that they allow you to dump in a variety of nutrient rich ingredients from each of the key food groups, especially veggies.
Cable: I downgraded to basic cable. I can’t completely get rid of it yet. I’m addicted to the Discovery Channel. Straight up Edutainment like BDP.
At Work “The Surge”: Businesses are going under left and right. Downsizing is in the air. Now is the time for your best work ever. Pour that shit on. Finish any outstanding projects. Call in favors from clients/vendors. Have them send in messages about how valuable you are to them. Over communicate. Master the art of memos. And – I know this is gonna be hard for brothas – but get over your aversion to attention to detail. Trust me. The corporate cleanersare coming and they are looking for anything – no matter how small/trivial – that can be used to justify your dismissal. Also, try to aggressively position yourself for a key role on an uber-important company project. Stay close to the office-stars. Stay away from office-losers, the trouble makers. And work on your personality.
Phones: I don’t have a home phone. Between the celly and gmail all my communication needs are covered. With the cell phone, so as not exceed my service plan, I try not to talk w/ my peeps until after 9 pm or on the weekends. 9 times out of 10 we just shooting the shit anyway. And as far as texting goes, I set up a one word texting limit. I know that it may seem difficult to effectively communicate with just one word, but from my experience, if it’s a close friend or family member, you can damn near communicate with each other telepathically. If one word texting or telepathy is too difficult for you, you can eliminate most communication barriers by creating a glossary of text terms and symbols to be shared with your squad via email. Lastly, get rid of any unnecessary features.
Fitness: My gym allowed me to downgrade my membership. You might also be able to put your membership on hold. The other option is to cancel. If you do cancel: 15 push ups, 20 sit ups, 30 air squats, and 15 squat thrusts. Do as many sets as you can in 20 minutes, 4-5 times per week. For more home work out ideas check out www.crossfit.com. Fellas, you probably won’t gain any muscle size with this, but it will help to burn of all the extra carbs you’ll be consuming. It will keep you lean. For variety, pull out and dust off those old ass Tae-Bo DVD’s ya’ll been holding onto. And chill with the treats!
Treat your S.O. Right: Go overboard, not monetarily/materially, but emotionally. Now is the time to cuddle, and cuddle some more. This ain’t the time to be arguing over bullshit. And players – now is definitely not the time to be trickin’ off. We are in a recession. Tis the season of monogamy. Emotionally, mentally, and financially, it’s what makes the most sense at the moment. So love the one – the “1″ - you’re with. Ya’ll gonna need each other to get through this mess.
The “Get Up”: This is a series of monthly house parties (remember those) that I’m organizing with my closest friends. You gotta – “Get Up” – with yo’ peeps when times are hard. You need them. They need you. You need each other. Good people, good music, and good laughs will help to keep the blues at bay. To pull it off, all you need is food (potluck), drink, a DJ or Itunes/IPOD, some descent speakers, and a crib – preferably one with a basement that can comfortably accommodate up to 25 people.
The bottom line is to be smart – be prepared. And if things turn for the better sooner rather than later, you’ll have some money saved up. If not, you’ll be well equipped to calmly navigate the treacherous economic road ahead.
Stay Well;
kd
Sunday afternoon at the pet store w/ my 2 boys. We’re checking out the kittens and pups. A handsome and frisky doberman pup catches our eye. We post up for a few minutes in front of the pooch’s cage. A couple of minutes fly by. Another family approaches. Moms, pops, junior, and grandpa. They have a real rust-belt ethos about ‘em. They peer over our shoulders at the same pooch we’re looking at. Junior expresses an keen interest in the pup. They continue to move in – encroach. Pretty damn close to invading our personal space. I have to defend the perimeter. I turn and give them a quick and subtle don’t-get-no-closer glance complete with a half-smile. Message received. They stop and continue to observe from an acceptable distance. Another minute or two goes by. We’re still excitedly engaged with the pup. Tired of waiting, pops verbally signals for his rustic squad to go browse the other animals in the store. As they turn to walk away I hear grandpa say, in a voice much louder than what was appropriate for the setting, “I’d rather get me one of them COON dogs anyway”. I’m immediately thinking to myself, “WTF! COON dog? Who says COON DOG!?” I turn and instantly lock eyes with grandpa. This mofo flashes me a quick smile and offers up a sinister, “Have a nice day.”
OK. To me, this a is a clear-cut case of racism/bigotry. However, I could be making this shit up in my head. Maybe grand pa simply decided to make known - at that precise moment in time – his longing and preference for a got-damn coon dog. I seriously doubt it. What do you think? Is this an act of racism or am I imagining things?
kdizo
Am I the only one:
- Am I the only black dude that, as a shorty, had a crush on Boy George? Don’t trip. I was 10 years old. I didn’t know much of anything about homosexuality (even though my go to diss at the time was “nigga, you gay!”) and even less about studs cross-dressing. What I did know was that Boy George’s warm sultry voice riding over the reggae-drenched riddim of 1982’s “Do you Really Want To Hurt Me” had a little black boy feelin’ all warm and fuzzy and – - yeah….
- Am I the only 6′4, 265 lb. brotha that gets just a tad affronted, or thinks it’s racist, when a random White person makes steps towards me and asks If I play football or basketball and, as of late, if I fight in the UFC? This shit happens all the time. I wouldn’t mind these encounters so much if, every now and then, instead of asking me if I play sports, some random white cat would approach me to ask if I’m a Professor or an Advertising/Marketing Exec. or an Astrophysicist… I’m sick of it. The next time some random White homey, young or old, invades my personal space to ask me if I play sports, I’m gonna stand up tall and straight, chest out, and calmly reply, “No, I don’t play sports. I’m a field-nigga. Now get the fuck outta my face.” Is it just me?
- As a senior level manager in corporate America, I often get the sneaking suspicion that when my white staff and colleagues ask questions in response to my directives, they do so for no other reason than they hate to take orders from a homeboy – from a brotha. At times it seems like this is their default knee-jerk response to any directive/suggestion that I put on the table. Seriously, I could suggest that one of my White team members simply lace up his wing-tips and he – all red faced – will immediately respond, or push-back with, “Well, why exactly would I do that and where does that sit with our other priorities?” Am I the only one???
up
kdizo
This video has been making the rounds as of late. Give it a good look and share your reactions with me. How does it sit with you? Any issues come up? Like the word – uhmmm – bitch! I’m very very interested in getting your take on this. You don’t have to offer up a dissertation or anything. All responses/reactions are welcome. Pretend like we’re sittin’ around the kitchen table talkin’ shit…
more about “Racism: Black Man in Elevator (Offic…“, posted with vodpod
25
Sep
08
am i the only one…
Am I the only one that will go to the store on an emergency toilet paper run and grab a few absolutely unecessary odds and ends because, in my mind, I’ve come to believe that If I stand in the checkout line with nothing but toilet paper, people near and around me will undoubtedly be thinking to themselves, “Ewwww, the only reason this dude is here is because he has to shit real bad…” I couldn’t bear the shame of it…
Is it just me?
5:30 a.m. About to hop the Green Line “EL” @ MLK Drive ( A word of caution, if you think that you might at all look like a vic/mark, I wouldn’t advise that you do this). The train comes and I board. The car is empty except for one dude (let’s call him, ol’ boy). He’s a hype. I ain’t trippin’ though. I knew that @ 5:30 a.m. I was about to board the hype express. So, I cop a seat on the same side of the car as as ol’ boy, but 4 rows back. It’s early, I’m tired. I need to close my eyes for a minute (again i wouldn’t advise anyone to do this). I look around – survey the area to make sure things are cool. Coast is clear. I drop my bag to the floor, put my leg through the shoulder strap to prevent a snatch and grab, and close my eyes. I’m trying to doze, and then I start to hear what sounds like water - alot of water hitting the floor of the car. I sit up – open my eyes – look around to see where what I assumed to be a leak might be coming from. It stops. Nothin’ on the floor. Just me and – ol’ boy. Coast is clear. I shut my big browns. Soon as I close my eyes the water starts again. As I’m sittn’ up to investigate – my legs/feet shift, and I hear a splashing sound. Mildly startled and severely puzzled, I look down to find what I think to be water/beer on the ground, and on my bag (cold-ass leather Kenneth Cole briefcase). And — it’s coming from where – ol’ boy - is sitting. I yell out, “yo - WTF is you doin!?!” He jumps up, his back to me, mumblin’ and fumblin’, actin’ all perplexed and shit. And then he starts talkin’/slurin’ about, “Damn man, what’s goin’ on? What’s that shit on the ground?!?” He keeps on mumblin and fumblin – lookin all around… And then he turns in my direction and slowly staggers toward me before the train turns causing him to fall into a nearby seat. He’s keeps goin on and on and on… Now by that time I’ve already figured out that – ol’ boy - done pissed on the ground, and on my bag. How did I solve the mystery? Well, when he turned and started in my direction — his joint was hangin’ out. Still drippn’ with pee pee…
22
Sep
08
a 5 yr old black boy and race…
I picked up my shorty from some artsy/fartsy event this past Saturday afternoon. He hops in the car – in the car seat - buckles himself in and…
[Car starts. We rollin'. Ipod beats kick in thru car stereo. Afro-Peruvian mix. Volume low.]
Me: You had a good time homie?
Son: “Yeah!!! It was funnn!!!”
Me: What did y’all do?
Son: “I dunno. A lot.”
Me: Okay. Well did you…
Son: “Oh yeah, someone came to sing.”
Me: That’s Cool.
Son: “Dad, do you know who it was?”
***I worked in the music/concert biz for years. My son thinks I know any and everyone that sings***
Me: Well, I need a little more info homie. Was it a man or a woman?
Son: “A dude.”
Me: Do you remember his name?
Son: “Nope.”
Me: What kind of music did he play?
Son: “I dunno. He had a guitar.”
Me: Was he White or Black?
Son: “Uhmmm, kinda light-peach I think.”
Me: [In a faint whisper] Wowww…
Let me Romare Bearden (paint) the picture for you.
Me and my girl. My crib. Mid-day. Feelin sexy. Crunched for time. In the mood. Impromptu love…
So we launch into a savage and frenzied game of touch and touch. Hot and bothered. We humid. Fubus, Lugz, Joe Boxers, Forever 21’s are torn asunder and hurled about. Moist flesh. Pheromones. The air is ablaze. 2 minutes and 20 seconds have elapsed. Time for the jump off. And then… I push PAUSE. Bring it all to a screeching halt. Why? Man, it just so happens that on this very day – at this particular moment in time - I have funky-nuts and/or a lil’ booty-juice. Yep. I needed to hop my tart ass into the shower. Don’t trip fellas. You know it happens every now and then. Even to the most fastidious of us. And if you’ve ever been in this unfortunate situation, you know that this stop-in-action is an immediate mood kill. It’s an error. A fumble. A tricked lay-up. We’ll, I’m here to tell you that it doesn’t always have to go down like this…
My name is Kdizi-Kdizo. You can call me dizo. Baby wipes changed my sex life. For the better. In those ever so crucial categories of quickies/nooners, baby wipes uped my stats. They helped me to become more consistent. Fewer tricked lay-ups. I bet they can do the same for you. Now I understand, that given the above scenario, some of you more uncivilized studs might try to maintain forward progress and push through. Hey, I’m not here to judge. I’m no expert. Do what you gotta do to be you. But man, let me tell you, it is hard to recover after you’ve left a bad taste in someones mouth. So I humbly suggest that you play it safe. Get some baby wipes. And the next time you and yo shawty line up for a quickie, and you feelin a little tart. Don’t fret. Calmly run into the bathroom. Go up under the sink. Pull out 4-5 baby wipes and – wipe. Get on the sides and up under the nuts-sack. Don’t forget the taint and yo funky ass. After that, take the remaining clean wipe and dust off the shaft. It’s that simple. 30-45 secs and you’re good to go.
Yours Truly;
Coach K(dizo).
WARNINGS: these posts deserve another looksy…
Tags: 2008 Elections, Barack Obama, Black Life, commentary, Election 2008, Joe Biden, John McCain, Life, Politics, Race Relations, Sarah Palin, society
Warning #1: “If Barack Becomes President…”
Warning #2: “Things we should do…”