The other day, I was sitting my office and my co-worker's son comes in. We begin talking (you know about random stuff) and I asked him if he was going to play football with his dad. He told me that he didn't like that stuff and when he grew up, he wanted to be… a figure skater.
A WHAT?!!!
What is this world coming to? Kids wanting become figure skaters and choreographers with lisps… I think it's the case of having too many hugs and too much Internet access. Nowadays, kids are being raised to be soft. When I was growing up in my hometown of
November 1995.
Won Fish, myself and our teammate J are riding home from football practice. As we were waiting for our train to arrive, two young men walk next to us and begin to engage us in conversation. They complimented us on our attire as well as accessories. While this might seem like a normal scene to some, it sure in the hell wasn't.
The following is a transcript of what took place:
Young Man #1 (YM1): What up, Joe… dem some nice J's you got on!
Young Man #2 (YM2): Fa sho, where you get dem from, Joe?
J (visibly shaken, in a soft, scared voice): The store?
YM1: How much you spend on dem?
J (looking like he's about to piss on himself): My mama bought 'em for me…
Me: (visibly annoyed) Shut up, J…
YM1 (looking at Won): How much loot you got on you?
Won (digs in pockets): I ain't got none…
YM1 (turning to J): What about you,
J: (shaking) I got a dollar!
YM1 and YM2: (simultaneously turning to me) What about you, quiet guy?
Me: I got some loot but y'all ain't getting' it…
Me: (thinking to self) These dudes are trying to test me… but I ain't even about to go out like that. Gotta keep it real, son! Mama Sharon didn't raise no punks! I was taught to stand up for myself, be a man and don't take anything from anyone – plus, I got my boys to back me up.
To make a long story short, I am glad I was blessed with speed and agility because I surely needed it that day. I still didn't show any weakness though and I'm proud of that (even though my pride almost resorted in a major ass kickin'). I also earned respect (although I lost it when I started screaming for help, but that's beside the point).
With that being said, I implore all of you stop the coddling of these youth. Parents, it starts with you. Stop naming your children names that will get their asses beat. For example, Little Blaine might sound adorable on the birth certificate but it's an open invitation for Atomic Wedgies for the remainder of his scholastic career. Don't let him suffer the beat down of his humanity.
Be like me: name your children intimidating names. All of my offspring will have names like Rock, Concrete, Granite, etc. No one will EVER punk them. Heed my advice and we will have less triple axels to watch…
I'm out – have a good weekend.
- Jorge
Hell yeah, that's the truth. I remember them days. And it starts earlier than that. I remember the first time I had to "man up". I was in the 2nd grade, walking home from school. Me and 2 of my boys were about 2 blocks away from my house when about four 4th graders rolled up on us, threatening to take Fred's jacket. After we told big homie that he wasn't getting it, they pretty much tried to take it. They got the jacket, and I got rolled down a hill, but that's beside the point. They new they couldn't punk us. I wish the hell I would have wanted to be a figure skater....that's a sure way to get stuffed in a gym locker.
ReplyDeleteJorge,
ReplyDeleteYou need your butt beat! That was funny. You never shared that story to me. Was this at the Racine train station? I'm glad you stood up, but you do realize some brothers today aren't living because they stood up. It is sad, but true. As black men we shouldn't have to prove how "hard" we are to each other--at least not physically or through threats. WE SHOULD BE MEN OF INEGRITY. But there goes me being idealistic again.
...and what's wrong with figure skating? It might get that boy a full ride to college...a college in France. LOL. All I know is that he better have a lot of BASS in his voice going into that profession. Can you imagine:
[IN A DEEP BARITONE] "Yeah, I figure skate, nukka. You gotta a problem with that??? Didn't think so! Now gimme yo' cornbread...and yo' phone number."
LMAO.
Well to bad we all know that you are really just a WEAK ASS PUNK! A really MAN like myself would have fought and got my stripes.
ReplyDeleteI never got my ass beat (thanks da lawd). But I have encountered hundreds who have dismantled and crushed my name trying to say it. Examples:
ReplyDeleteneon
neeony
nylon
ion
diane (did you hear a D, bitch?)
nyjwan (i'm dead serious)
nyah
naomi (what the hell)
As God is my witness, my future offspring WILL have regular names.