I’m Never Getting Married

This is not the first time I’ve expressed this sentiment. And there are those close to me who I’ve spoken this to who know the optimist and the romantic in me very well and would say I know not of what I speak. But, my darlings, your humble narrator has reached a critical stage. There are so many events that have led me to this point. 2 which have become readily relevant. Not the least of which is the marriage of a former friend of mine. I say former only because his wife won’t allow us to be friends, or at least not on our own terms. I’ve known this gentleman for about half my life now. I will admit there are lots of people I’ve known far less time but still known far better. But I am not the lone victim in this woman’s dastardly plan. His best of friends now must maintain a friendship under a watchful eye and a guarded tongue, because she is ever-present ready to pounce. I know, I was there. But I’ll get back to that in a second. The point is I am too spoiled to relinquish any of my freedoms to a woman’s whim. And I dread the day when I think of that as a better option than living the hassle free life that has come to define me. Back to my friend. So at my first ten year reunion, we were capping the Saturday night events off, which pretty much meant the reunion was drawing to a close for most of us. But seeing as a lot of my friends were in town, this was a perfect opportunity for us to gather and watch football together as a lot of us are in, at least one, and some, multiple, fantasy leagues together. I suppose I was spearheading the effort, not that it was much of a task seeing as everyone was game for it. Well my friend who shall remain nameless, is a guy who’s been in the middle of the pack (foreshadowing his life) in our fantasy football league since I’ve been a part of it. But that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be extended the invitation of his God-given right of enjoying a football game with people he annually pays money to for their company and witty banter on a message board in a fantasy league frequently littered with remarks about his mediocre team (reflecting his life.) He replied he didn’t want to make a drive back from Baton Rouge in the morning. At that point I suggested he just stay out with us and spend the night. I made the mistake of asking in earshot of his husband if he wanted to join us. Before he was finished hearing my question, his husband turned to him and said something to the effect of “Don’t you remember you’re supposed to be driving me and your son home.” To which he promptly hung his head and didn’t even give me the satisfaction of an answer. Now, I’m not going to tell any man how to live his life, or how to let his husband live his life, but c’mon nameless friend! I mean shit, I understand responsibility and all that but have a fucking backbone and at least tell your woman that you can answer for yourself. If I ever found myself in a situation where the woman was wearing the pants it would damn sure be a private thing between a husband and wife. I’d at least like for others to believe I was a man even if I knew the truth. I just thank God I’m a God blessed Christian, because that was the only thing between her and my sharp tongue. I’m not married to her so I don’t have to deal with the repercussions of telling her I had not directed my question to her and would appreciate if she excused herself from anything I ever had to say again. But In the interest of maturity and not making things hard on my friend I digressed. There’s a large part of me that hopes she someday gets access to this blog or our posts on the message board and somehow finds the gall to confront me, because there aren’t too many people higher on the “piece of my mind” list. In the meantime I just wish my friend and his husband could exchange his great heart for her iron testicles.

Sadly the second reason cannot be explored and even more sadly probably never will be. For one, it would involve more explanation than I have available text to write this blog. And for 2 it’s not my story to tell. But let me just leave you all hanging by saying that the morning I became aware of this unspecified event, I was in a very nice sleep, and had almost resigned myself to going back into mid-explanation from the initial storyteller, when at the Catharsis of the story I stood erect and more awake than I had ever been in my life. I’m not the wise old sage I believe myself to be, but I’ve seen a lot and heard a lot and at this point it’s really hard to find a new story for me much less to actually surprise me with some human’s goings on. I am not ashamed to say that Tyler Durden, John Doe in SE7EN, and Kaizer Soze combined could not have prepared me for this plot twist. And of all the people I would love to tell this story in depth to I would most like to tell it to me circa 2000. There are known, unknowns, there are unknown, unknowns, How the hell I could ever be surprised by a known, known, is still beyond my comprehension. And honestly upon hearing it I was so overwhelmed with emotion I didn’t know whether to feel happy/sad/jealous/or giddy, so I just stuck with good old fashioned Shock. And that’s where I am now. But there’s one thing for damn sure. I am never getting married!!!!!

With that out of the way, I am very much looking forward to making my way to Houston to Rome’s house this weekend where Gimp Vs. J-Roc round 2 will be happening live for those wishing to participate via conference call. And on tape delay on Myspace and Youtube for those who can’t make it. This time there will be no question….

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One response to “I’m Never Getting Married

  1. Black love is dying. Ladies! It is true that many brothers are incarcerated, un-educated, un-employed, ignorant, gay, bisexual, have bad credit, bad manners, bad breath, bad taste and too many children. The same can also be said about many sisters.Gentlemen! It is true that many sisters are stuck up, not as cute as they think they are, gold-diggers, opportunists, control-freaks, gossips, whiners, fake and too demanding. Again, the same can be said about many brothers.Here is the thing. Our black community is in complete disarray. I know that our situation stems from a history in which we had little to no control over our lives. I also know that many of us are currently in situations that are beyond our control. That’s even more reason to take control of the only thing that we can – ourselves. One person cannot make any other person do anything. The only thing in life we have control of is ourselves and the first thing we need to do when we get control of ourselves is to control what we say. Life and death are in words. We beat each other down with hateful speech and then wonder why we can’t find love. My husband is the shit and I’m not too shabby myself. We’re not ballin’ out of control. Shoot we’re not ballin’ at all, but every day we work together to create love, peace, joy, beauty and life. Even on days when we have worked each others very last nerve, we find a way to get over it, love through it, and continue on our journey together. We’re not special. Anyone who knows us can tell you that as single people we had the same mess that everyone else does. But we committed to each other and every day we find ways to lift each other up. That’s our love story and I know we can’t be the only good black man and good black woman so there have to be many more love stories to be made. I find it very regrettable that the current dating scene and an outsiders peak into a few marriages have caused a nice, intelligent, cool black man like Gian find the idea of marriage (for himself) repugnant. Still, I must credit him for having enough sense to recognize the shortcomings that he would have if he were a husband. He’s saving someone a lot of aggravation. Anyway, I just want to say that black love exists and flourishes. It’s beautiful…even intoxicating. So love each other and speak love to each other. Stop hating with your words.

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