Choices

We make choices everyday, some consciously while others are unconscious. Which way do you go, where do you turn. Decisions, decisions, decisions have to be made. To be or not to be; will you be married or single. Will you go to school or be a drop out? Mediocrity or excellence? What will be you portion in life?

We have no choice, we must make choice. Decisions have to me made. If we do not choose that’s a choice in and of itself. Life says you choose or I will choose for you. Of course some choices are easier than others. The color of your clothes may not be important if you are going to a football game, but will definitely have and impact if you are going for an interview. Not brushing your teeth will not endear you to that young lady you are trying to date, unless you can convince her that you bought a bad batch of toothpaste.

Here are three choices that will(or can) impact your future severely. Of course there are others but these are my three for now.

1. Choosing to be a bad you will be a turn off an drive people away from you.
2. Choosing a wrong spouse/fiancé will turn you off and drive you away from them
3. Choosing the wrong God and not accepting him the way he says its to be done will put you in a lot of heat.

Choose wisely.

Cricket and Politics

Its finally over seven and a half weeks of World Cup Cricket in the West Indies. Fifty odd days of cricket across nine sovereign nations parading as one West Indies comprised of what the "foreign" press call the locals.

The results of the tournament pretty much mirrored the present world rankings with Australia coming out on top.

The West Indies finished a dismal sixth just ahead of the so called minnows, Ireland and Bangladesh. This the West Indies that dominated the game of cricket from the early seventies to the nineties. There are some of us who hoped for a better result but as with anything that is done over a period of time statistical truth will not be denied. This is why in cricket teams may win games against higher ranked teams on a particular day, but will inevitably lose against said teams over a five day test match.

For some people the salvation of West Indies cricket involves the dumping of Lara and the coaching staff. One brilliant fellow says for West Indies cricket to rise we need to "Give it back to the people." Of course he never explained what that meant because it makes no sense. There are others who says the problem boils down to "Highly paid players who parade in fancy sunglasses". That sounds like jealousy to me.

The fact of the matter is the team as it exists is the best there is (plus or minus a few players), whether we want to accept it or not.It is easy for people to throw around names from their respective territories but facts are facts.

Before the tournament we were promised at least a semi final showing. Others said "See you in Barbados on the 28th". All samfie, ginnalship, lies. Why? because such expectations would have run against the grain of fifteen years worth of results. But we believed, and hoped and of course were disappointed when it didn't happen

What does all of this have to do with politics? Politicians make promises, promises that go against the reality of circumstances. Politicians because of an air of expectancy produce simplistic solutions for complex longstanding problems. Basically politicians lie to the people and refuse to acknowledge that the only way to progress and improvement is proper planning, a systematic approach and good execution. Yes, hard work too. Sounds like what is lacking in West Indies Cricket doesn't it?

Joka Smokas

Ever wonder about smokers? I mean come to think of it, they claim their rights are being eroded but they seem to have more rights than we do.

You try going to your job even on a hot summer day and going by the cooler and have a 5 minute conversation. Chances are you will be written up and reprimanded. Smokers? No way these guys have a 15 minute break everytime they decide to take a puff, and ho scolds them? No one. I once worked at a place and I wanted equal rights and justice so I decided to hang and talk with the smokers no less. Of course my boss gave me good tounge lashing.

Things get worse if the boss is a smoker also well better for the smokers. You this is where they plot and scheme 8 times per day, 15 minutes at a time about promotions, pay raises an dplots against the innocent. Two whole hours of conference smoking per day. This same place I worked at there was a guy who pretty much chained smoked all day when we should be working on projects. He would then leave work at 6 and the boss would praise him for working late.

Why are smokers never accused of starting global warmimg?

I don't know but what I do know is that smokers on the average earn more than you and I do.

How else could they afford that habit?

Anyway thats enough for now, I have to run before my joker smoker boss kicks me in da Butt.

Draw Bad Card

The finals of the 2006 FIFA World Cup Football tournament was held on Sunday July 9th in Berlin Germany. Missed in the Irony is the fact that the finals were held in a city that became a symbol of both the unification of the former East and West Germany's as well as the destruction of the cold war. This supports the old adage that sometimes you have to tear down to build up. The stones taken from the Berlin wall were thrown at the old Soviet system and brought what many have determined to be freedom. I guess one mans vandalism is another mans reconstruction.

That was then, we have to talk about a more recent "then". Going into the third game of the first round of the tournament France were in danger of elimination. They were playing upstarts and potential spoilers Togo. They were with there prolific and exciting playmaker the incomparable Zinadine Zidane. He had gotten 2 yellow cards in the previous games and consequently was disqualified. France somehow beat Togo and welcomed back Zidane for the round of 16 game against Spain. He came back in style and placed his mark on the game and even scored a goal in France's dismantling of Spain who were one of the pre tournament favorites. A few days later Zidane turned up his performance a notch in a classic performance against Brazil in the quarter finals. A brilliant kick from a set piece set up Thierry Henry in the 57th minute to shock the world and send Brazil reeling out of Germany.

The legend of the man Zidane had now grown. Those who had never seen the man in action were in awe as he showed to control a game both on and off the ball. Deft touches, precise passes, amazing penalties. The ball stuck to his boot as if held by a thread. The superlatives and metaphors flowed. Zidane this, Zidane that, Zidane the this, Zidane the that. He was Alexander the great, William the conqueror, Martin Luther King all in one. A builder a roads and tearer down of bridges. The finals were supposed to be his going away party. That rare moment when a sport star leaves his sport his way, on top, in the biggest game of the biggest tournament in the world.

You a go tired fe see me face
Can't get me out of the race
Oh man you said I'm in your place
A make you draw bad card
And then you draw bad card

Propaganda spreading over my name
Say you want to bring another life
to shame
Oh man you just playing a game
And then you draw bad card, draw
bad card
A make you draw bad card, draw bad card
A make you draw bad card(Bob Marley)

Viewers would have noticed that FIFA had anti racism messages before most of the games. Cruel racism, and provocation has been a staple among fans in Eastern Europe especially but also very much so in the Italian and Spanish soccer leagues. This is not to say it does not occur in other countries but its more rampant in aforesaid places. In fact there was tension during the France game because of Racist and vile comments that had been previously made by the Spanish coach toward Henry of France. The Spanish FA did not punish Aragones until FIFA stepped in.



So suddenly in the second half of the final game of his career with France in control of the game Mr Zidane in an off the ball incident head butted on of the "Pizza Boys". Some guy with a name that seems like it came off a restaurant menu. He was sent of in so called disgrace. Instantaneously the praises turned to ridicule, accusation, condemnation, disgust. All of a sudden he was Zidane the wicked, The response of the pundits and commentators were as illogical and as unrealistic as what Zidane did. I am surprised the US anti terrorist squad did not escort Mr Zidane off the field. That is the was they made it seem. I will hold judgment. I do not trust the pizza boy. As far as I ma concerned Mr Zidane must have been provoked severely. Well some say he should be able to control his temper, well that's because they are not usually on the short end of intense provocation and harassment. They say we should respond, with grace, with courage, with humility. O yeah Some people care about profile, what people think, legacy and all that. That may be so, but Zidane does not need their sympathy nor their praises. There is no price that can be placed on being told about ones mother, race, country or religion. Maybe if it were me I would have slapped pizza boy while he was taking his dive too.

I strongly suspect that when all is said and done in the coming days as the truth comes out that those of us who do not accept and condone racial and religious provocation will be singing Zidanes praises. H will have struck a telling blow against those who casually disrespect other peoples. We will then be saying, "What a way to leave the game".

A short StoryEnjoy(It wont last long)

James closed the door to his basement apartment for one last time, well hopefully. "This is goodbye Brooklyn", he thought to himself. He realized however that life was unpredictable. after all eight years ago he had said the same thing and here he was again. Goodbye Brooklyn.

Brooklyn had been faithful to James, at least better to him than his ex wife. Eight years ago he had left here without as much as a warning, yet Brooklyn had taken him back with open arms. If the Borough of Brooklyn had been a woman he would have married her.

So he closed the door behind him in the middle of the night. After all how could he leave in broad daylight? He had to leave when Brooklyn was asleep. James had lived in other places, they had all started out with promise but had all fizzled and sent him packing.

Tears welled in his eyes as if leaving who loved him but whose love he was not willing to reciprocate. It was 1030pm. One week ago this time he was on his way to work, a job he no longer had because he has quit. He quit for no other reason than he had overstayed his time in this place.

"Boom," the roar of night time urban thunder reverberated through the Brooklyn night sky.. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," the old saying goes. Brooklyn was really acting up tonight, picking a fight with the heavens as its accomplice, starting a quarrel as if to say, "No way are you going to use me and leave me again." Sentiments aside, he had to ignore the objections being raised by this lovely place.

"Brooklyn I like you but there is someplace more exciting with more promise than you." He thought to himself.

"Boom," thunder roared through the night time sky again. "Objection," Brooklyn seemed to be saying. James however counted himself judge and jury and overruled this objection, in his own mind.

The small panel van he rented for his trip out of state was in full agreement with him as it started up instantaneously. He pulled out and made a right turn unto the thoroughfare around the corner from his house. Thunder, lightning and rain, now a police roadblock. Sister Brooklyn was pulling out all the stops to prevent him from leaving her. All along he had the impression Brooklyn was masculine because of its rugged reputation, but now she was like a jilted woman who was about to use the cops to stop him in his tracks. They were actually there to investigate an accident, but James was a little paranoid and taking it personal.

In a few minutes he was allowed to pull away from the accident scene. James was determined to leave and nothing was going to stop him. He had treated Brooklyn with respect while he was there, yes, honor love and respect. He had proven to be a good guy, a decent man which made him desirable, but he was also a man on a mission. He was not going to be denied. The policeman as if sensing his determination waved him through teh roadblock. The red light ahead would only be a temporary hindrance.

"Hello." He answered on his mobile phone. This was just what he wanted. For the past 2 months this young lady, Janice had been calling his phone requesting a date. James had told her countless times that he was not interested in her overtures. This Janice was as intent on being a nuisance as Brooklyn was in keeping him. James did not want to be rude to a lady, so instead of insulting her he told her he would call back, knowing full well that his phone would be cut off the next day; Assuming everything went as planned. He had met her while standing in line at a supermarket, they truck up a conversation and subsequently exchanged numbers. He had thought nothing of it at first until like clockwork she started calling every 2 weeks to "talk". This incessant calling escalated to "wanting to meet". In spite of all this he was always courteous. A man on a mission cannot be easily swayed or distracted. She was pretty, "Eye Candy" as they call it nowadays; but somewhere was a Blessing waiting on him. So he shut off his phone, one less potential distraction. He had never felt so wanted, so needed, but at this time that attention was unwelcome; Good for the ego but bad for his future.

It was not like he didn't know there would be resistance to him leaving, but sentiment had to be put aside. James pulled over the Brooklyn Bridge and headed towards the tunnel. In a few minutes he was out of New York and into New Jersey. He has researched his route and knew where he was going, just as he was sure about this new phase in his life.

For the next eighteen hours he drive within the confines of the law to his destination. James stopped only for gas and to stretch his legs every few hours. He was on a high, pumped up, excited. There really was no need for sleep. At about 830 pm he pulled into the driveway of his new home. This was a new start, genesis of a bright future. He came out, stretched, let out a big shout and ran into the arms of his Blessing.

The Police

I would like to develop a concept about policing with a series of arguments.One definition of the police is, "The governmental department charged with the regulation and control of the affairs of a community, now chiefly the department established to maintain order, enforce the law, and prevent and detect crime." A security guard on the other hand is defied as "A person hired by a private organization to guard a physical plant and maintain order."

Recently in New York City, Judge Jack Weinstein sentenced former Detectives Louis Eppolito and Stephen Caracappa to life in prison. They were convicted of working in conjunction with the Mafia amongst other things. Here in the United States there have always been complaints by citizens, especially in ethnic communities of heavy handed tactic by police. One of the attributes of a failed state as defined by the United Nations is that the police or security forces act more as agents to keep a government in power rather than protecting the citizenry and maintaining order.

If I were a wealthy man with a large estate or compound and assets to protect I would likely hire a private security force or security guards. They would operate within the confines of the law of my locality but within that context they would be working for me. While they may develop procedure because of their expertise, I would be the one who would develop general guidelines. their main function would be to protect and secure my premises. The only time they could override or basically push me around was if it were in my best interest from a security standpoint. So if there was a known or suspected danger the would perhaps prevent me from leaving the complex. What if it got to the point where my security chief got so powerful that for no apparent reason he started to decide if I could use my pool, or walk on this walkway or use this or that building. What type of scenario would that be?

Policemen are society's security guards. Now please do not take this as a slight. There is a tendency to mock and denigrate security guards. When this comparison is made, I am talking more about function as opposed to status. Of course policemen have powers of arrest and investigation etc. For the most part though we see them as our frontline partners in the war against crime. In a lot of places however police have forgotten that: (1) They have been hired by the community and (2) We are partners in this together. In some situations police department have expanded their role by force and in others it is the public who has abdicated its role as overseers of our protectors.

What is the end result of this? We find that in many places the police have become bullies. In fact there have been instances in New York city where police have had disputes with firemen, and simply because he has the power of arrest in a non criminal dispute the firemen were arrested for 'disturbing the peace" I like the police, we need them they are actually a necessity. Because they perform a vital service however does not give them the right to abuse and intimidate the citizenry.

I therefore take this opportunity to congratulate all cops who place themselves in harms way for our protection. I however remind those who would intimidate, be disrespectful and bully the public that we are the bosses .

A black man and his money.

A few years ago my cousin and myself were in a blockbuster store in the Atlanta area checking out movies to rent when we were continuously trailed by a field hand dressed in blue and yellow with khaki pants. My cousin was dreadlocks. I was very upset with the treatment and asked to see the head overseer who claimed we were seeing things. My cousin declared that indeed Atlanta was not the advertised promise land for black people but instead a slave colony.

Well I am no longer in Atlanta, and like in yonder years some other parts of the country seems to be on the lookout for run away slaves. At least it seems that way to me. Want to see how people look at you when you take the train as if you are about to mug them? You want to try getting a job? I mean who wants to hire a runaway slave? The thing that really gets me though is when I try to retrieve my money from the banking system, after all how can a slave have property?

Yesterday I went to lodge a paycheck and get back a paltry $20.00 as pocket change. The hired hand that was a brother wanted my social security number (branding). After fiddling around and playing James Bond in his own mind he wanted to see ID (free papers). I got vexed in the place yard style and asked him.” A wha yuh need ID fah”? I have done this transaction countless times and no one has asked me this in this bank. He was very nervous and could not compose himself to complete the transaction. A task, which normally took 30 seconds, took 15 minutes. A young lady had to help him.

Today different place, same drama. I went to the post office in Canal Street. There is a clerk who I like to go to because she is cool and helpful, however this morning I ended up before a, well just let me say another clerk. I wanted to purchase a money order. Instead of swiping my card she kinda flipped it and did some sleight of hand and then told me my card was not working. I was like, “What do you mean my card isn’t working”?

“Can you try again”? She claimed the machine would not allow trying twice. Well I told her she was a bold face liar. Anyway she let me go to my favorite clerk and in less than a minute I had concluded my business. Here was another hired hand trying to play detective.

I take comfort in all of this though. The bible says a fool and his money will soon parted. Seeing I can’t get rid of mine when it comes to these people, maybe I am wise after all.

Till we meet again
Redman

Bankers Hours

I am sitting here working overnight on one job, mentally preparing myself to go to another one. The old cliché, “Gotta do what you gotta do” thus takes on a realistic feeling. The forty (40) hour work week is a good concept, Monday to Friday 8am-4pm and 5pm if the boss man decides to throw in a lunch hour.

Frankly I honestly don’t believe that I could consistently go back to a 40 hour situation. After all there are 168 hours in a week. Working only 40 and spending the rest recreating, sleeping and procreating is really something to lull us into complacency. Now I am not saying we are to go out there and kill ourselves, but the people who employ us did not achieve what the did by working bankers hours. This begs the question,; Do bankers actually work bankers hours? Hmm!

Till next time

Redman

Taking the train - What FEMA gotta do with it?

Hey, I am black African American, Jamaican born, whatever. Anyway I am a negro with a month long train pass. Well I had to renew my pass on last Saturday the 10th. Normally I pay with a debit card so I can get a receipt. Sounds easy doesn't it?

Easy? Not really, after 2 attempts I realised the machine was not working. One gentleman came to assist me, and proceeded to tell me my card was not working. Whatever man! I felt I had a better chance with his female counterpart; Was I wrong. She proceeded to berate me for not knowing that system wide the machines were not taking cards for a hold month.

"Can I be let through because the train is coming?"

"No!"

I asked her why, she said I had to pay for a single ride. I proceeded to produce $2.00 to pay for a single ride. Well she told me the lowest I could purchase was $4.00. Mind you the machines were not taking any cash. Anyway I ended up having to split a card with some guy who was having a similar problem.

Two(2) behemoth's, the New York Transit and FEMA. Inflexible, non-functional, no soutions and inhibitors to progress and quick thinking. Its no wonder the similarities continue, FEMA leaving thousand stranded at a convention center, NY Transit leaving thousand stranded everyday.

Till next time

Redman