Posts Tagged ‘family’

Wonderful Family I Met at the Fair

Such a great time in Buffalo this weekend for the Buffalo Small Press Book Fair. Special recognition to Chris Fritton for hosting an astounding event. It’s estimated that almost 2,500 visitors attended. So, what did I enjoy most? As always, the people! Oh, and getting to spend a fun, interrupted weekend with my eight-year old daughter, Karah. Before coming out in “The Buff” (I couldn’t resist), I knew nothing about this great city. The only things I knew about Buffalo were The Bills, Buffalo Wings, and that it was used in a memorable Eddie Murphy quote (at least to me) – you know in the first Beverly Hills Cop, Detroit under cover cop, Axel Foley is selling stolen cigarettes out of the back of a truck, when a buyer s ays to him, aren’t you a

The Heat is On! (Just not in Buffalo)

cop? Murphy responds with,

On the morning of the book fair, Karah and I stopped at Starbucks, where we met a morning – discussion group who frequents the spot for coffee and conversation. It was just a few blocks away from the fair so we invited them. They all came out and got copies of Even Angels Need Miracles – some more than one copy –

Niagra Falls

we were. It led us right to the Canada side of the falls. We ended up going through Customs and setting foot in another country. When they found out I didn’t have my passport, they booted us back to the Red White and Blue side – Ay! Karah and I enjoyed the visit, but she was more impressed with being able to swim at the hotel. Hey, she’s only eight!

I know the holidays are here and ’tis the season and what not, but whoever said you can’t treat yourself to a gift? If you’ve been on planet Earth for the last few years, chances are you’re hustling to keep it together. Work at the office, work at home, work while in the car – we’re traveling on a treadmill.

Last year, right around this time, my daughter lost a very nice and expensive watch of mine (yes I’ve forgiven her) but I loved that watch. It was the one thing that I treated myself too a few years ago, that really didn’t do anything but looked pretty (oh, it told the time).  Whoever found that watch, best to you, you got a real deal.

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to check out what deals I could find on Ebay as I was wrapping up my Christmas gifts, when I saw an image of the watch I used to own. The price was right about what I paid the last time for it.

You can see the watch somewhat in this photo.

Now with the current recession and holiday season upon us, ignoring it felt like the right thing to do, but I clicked the buy now and parted ways with a lump of cash. Why?  Because I could.  Because I wanted the watch and well, we only live once.

When the watch arrived, I inspected it and the same day, I took it to a jeweler to take out a few links so it would fit me nicely and confirm its authenticity, which he did. 

So now, I’ve been wearing the watch a few days. I’ve had a smile on my face and nothing bad has happened. No explosion of debt. This helped me realize the importance of doing for ourselves sometimes.  What a miserable life when we forget to put a smile on our own faces every once in a while.

Today, I wrapped up the last day of class for this semester and I think I did great in both. I think I’ll treat myself to something nice. (It won’t be nice as my watch, however – I’m not that stuck on ME! )

Have a Merry Christmas and safe holiday season!

I am one who appreciates “the teachable moment” – even when I’m the one getting the lesson.

This evening, I’m matching wills with my three-year old daughter. This sort of exchange is not   for the weak-minded.

So here’s the situation. It’s time for her to eat dinner, but she wants to do everything and        anything else. Instead of simply finishing her last few bites, she starts to find reasons to get out  of her seat. Once or twice in the middle of completing the task before her, she went into the  living room to get a few items, she went to the sink to put a bowl or cup away, she even pulled the “I have to go to the bathroom” stunt.

After charming her mom and me into letting her go “potty”. She decided to sit in the bathroom and wait. I guess she figured that as long as she was in her sanctuary, she need not return to finish her dinner.  She was right … sort of.

As any parent would reach their limitation for patience and reason, I reached mine. I told her to hurry up sternly so she can finish dinner and she responded,”I don’t love you anymore daddy.”

I paused.

I didn’t know what to say. How does a daddy respond to that?

“Well, get out of my house,” I said.  Her reaction – a deafening cry.

My 11 year old who just happened to walk in the kitchen during the exchange turned to me and while softly shaking her head imparts her wisdom. “You should have said well, I love you any way.”

Again, I had no answer. Other than the one I kept saying in my head. “She’s right.”

For the rest of the evening, before their bed time, I played with all three of my daughters even putting the young one on our front porch for a few seconds to stretch out the joke.

As I’m getting ready to travel to the Capital Book Festival in SC this Saturday, I’ll be taking my 11 year old wise one with me. I’m excited about the time we’ll spend together and the potential lessons she and I may exchange along the way.

My family and I gathered in Fredericksburg, Virginia this weekend to celebrate the 4th – small town, away from the city, lots of sun, boating, swimming and plenty of fireworks. As we watch the night sky shimmer with bursts of packaged sunshine while listening to the national anthem, I surveyed the spectators. Lots of USA t-shirts, bandanas and small flags (the flags were made in China, but thats a different blog for a diferent time) were proudly displyed.

I wondered if the holiday we celebrate should mean more than just a celebration of our forefathers successful succession from the Red Coats. In my humble opinion yes it should.

How about we make it just a tad bit personal and also celebrate each of our independence from something that has weighed us down from reaching our full potential – an addiction, a relationship, a job, etc. If you want to celebrate a free country, that’s great, but how about lighting one sparkler for yourself.

If you’re going to ask someone their opinion, then be prepared to receive a response you may not agree with.  That’s kind of a general rule.

Today, I actually received a direct message on Twitter asking me if, and I quote, write “Street Lit.”; you know, the books that have a message wrapped around a storyline that includes drugs, sex, violence (or a combination of the three).  My response was I don’t write those kinds of stories. Immediately, the person called me arrogant and blasted me for my response. Still smh.

First, the person doesn’t even know me. Second, with Twitter’s 140 characters limitation, I really couldn’t go into detail of what I was trying to say.  But here is the detail, I would have shared had I been given the chance.

Street Lit. is not me. I’m a married father of three daughters and I couldn’t pull the stories off authentically. I’m not saying you have to be a hustler to write about one, but my passion for those types of stories is not there. I’m not knocking writers and authors for sharing those types of stories. Those stories are indeed a part of the African-American culture, but I would argue a small part. The vast majority of African Americans do not hustle and sling their way throughout life. But even still, the argument that the street lit. culture only represents a minority of African Americans, pales in comparison to my key argument and writing principle – we have other stories to tell.

Again, no disrespect to my fellow writers who are keeping it real (seriously). And while there’s space on the shelves for stories about king pins losing territory, the hustler who’s out for revenge, or the sexy gold digger teaching bad boys a lesson, I believe there’s also shelf space and interest (despite what some may think) for stories about individuals, copules and families that overcome obstacles honestly and are rewarded for their efforts. I am confident that there is space for stories where love though tried and tested still prevails over easier alternatives. I also recognize that these kinds of stories are NEEDED. I believe there is healing in reading stories where moral heroes prevail.

I’m not saying that sex, violence and drugs have no place in novels. How could I say such a thing with legitimacy? Afterall, my first novel Always Room for Dessert has sex and my second novel opens with death and contains violence.

What I am saying is that what makes the African-American reading experience most valuable is the diversity within our reading genres. I know Street Lit is selling.  You can walk into any bookstore and see an entire shelf section devoted to those types of stories. but as an author, I want to serve as a counter balance and tell stories that add depth to our culture and existence in more wholesome ways. Stories that can elevate as well as entertain.

Perhaps I just need to loosen up.  Perhaps I am arrogant as the Twitter responder claimed and a bit self-righteous. I honestly don’t think that’s it. I actually take pride in the fact that I have an opinion and principles that are right for me and I’m sticking to them — even if it means I don’t get to be on that popular shelf.

I’m on this thing now where I see life’s purpose is to manage distractions. No one gets to simply do what they want.  Life is going to find a way to blow you a kiss — or kick your butt.  And each time you respond either takes you closer or further away from your quest. It really is that simple. 

With this new knowledge, I have been really watching my TV time and even my time on Facebook. I admit it is taking some practice, but boy am I getting some things done. Take today at work for example – I’m focused, knocking out assignments.  I’m on a total roll and then I start getting email forwards, one was pretty funny. 

Then I get phone calls, personal and work-related all taking me off my planned course. In the middle of working, I start handling an impromptu assignment.  This is precisely why when it’s time to leave I have like 18 outlook windows open, six Word documents, two excel spreadsheets and several Web pages open. 

Well, today I kept shutting them down.  Asking my colleagues to set up meetings, asking my family to allow me to call them back and really getting things done. I think I’ve finally gotten control over my distractions.  Finally!!! It’s on now!  I’ll finish my media inquiries about  my book tonight, but first let me respond to these Mafia Wars grenade cocktails I just received.