Can You Hear Me Now? The NFL Boycott and How I Will Do It!

Anyone who knows me understands that I eat, sleep and breathe NFL Football at the start of each and every year, so the first thing that I must impress upon you is the fact that I understand fully that what I am doing and asking others to do is a sacrifice. If you choose not to do so then that's your prerogative and I can't be mad at you for refusing to boycott. The only thing that I will say is this, If you don't want to join then stay on the sidelines and try not to discourage others to do what you won't do. In other words, stay out of the way or get run the fuch over... It's time to get to work! "Can You Hear Me Now Verizon?"

C. Kaepernick

About a month ago a friend posted that boycotting and rallying was a great waste of time and challenged me to find a reason why I thought his post was bullshit. Tiff, my man here it is! Feeling that there's no need to thoroughly rehash the why of my boycott (look at the pictures) I'm jumping directly to the how and how I think we all may do so successfully after lightly touching on the why.

The Why: It's crazy that on August 24th, 2017 just two weeks away from the start of the 2017-2018 NFL Season that this man still has not been offered a job in the NFL. Call it performance related as much as you wish, but his ranking places him far ahead of at least 12 starting QB's and at least 32 backups. This being the case it's clear that he is effectively being blackballed by the NFL powers that be. It's a shame that in a country where even the KKK is defended by the highest ranking official, this man is scorned for speaking up for the voiceless. I'll leave it at that...

The Blackball: One thing that I know is that in matters of money, and costing rich folks to lose out more of it, shit changes rapidly. According to the numbers NFL viewership dropped by an average of 8% last year for the regular season, with Monday Night Football and Sunday Night Football 12% & 10% respectively. While the reasons for the drop are multifaceted, one of the narratives thrown around is the notion that true blue-blooded Americans stopped watching it as a result of Kaepernick and his protest. I won't bother to try to prove or disprove it, I'll just take folks at their word and say kudos to you. Protest are as American as apple pie and often times as misguided as (Americanized) Mexican Food... Once there's a face to blame for a decline in viewership, there will be action taken to recoup those losses. Getting rid of Kaepernick is the catalyst for bringing the good ole boys back to the fray. Think I'm off base? I beg to differ, and submit to you the fact that Hank Williams Jr. (yeah the guy that likened then President Obama to Hitler in a rant) and his ironic iconic Monday Night Football theme song "Are You Ready For Some Football?" will be back on Monday Night Football starting this year. All of this after being booted and banned from the NFL since 2011 for that aforementioned rant. If one doesn't recognize this as an attempt to recapture an audience thought long gone, I'm not sure that you are thinking straight. I don't see this as a Black or White thing, this is simply a Green Thing. Money, money, money, money.

The Altering of a Narrative: Kaepernick was painting all police as racist. Kaep was never saying that cops are bad. He's saying that bad cops are out there and they are the ones that need to be addressed. What's the controversy in that? What about the socks he wore that had pigs in police uniforms? That was his attempt to bring light to the scandal that took place with the Oakland PD & The San Francisco PD. Please click on the links to be enlightened and perhaps you'll get the point of the socks he wore. Now think about what recently was uncovered in Baltimore with the police planting drugs on supposed criminals before arresting these young men for possession with intent to distribute (a felony). I feel that it's disrespectful to our Armed Forces to kneel during the anthem. Kaep addressed this issue last year with those in the armed forces and many of them have come out and said that they served for his right to protest injustice as he sees fit and thanked him openly for explaining himself and his stance. Come on folks, we can't just change the narrative as we see fit to justify our own uninformed mis-understanding. His taking a knee was a way to bring attention to the situation and create a conversation. Which leads us to where we are now... Keep politics out of my damn sports. Fuch off, the NFL owners and affiliates donated a record $107 Million for the Trump inauguration. So tell that shit to them first, then come run tell that to me as I laugh and tell you to fuch off once again.

The Fix: If there is one thing that I learned looking over this last year's worth of events it is that showing up matters, but even more effective than that is a refusal to show up. Below you can find a list of what I'm going to do unless the NFL brings Kaepernick back and supports programs that bring the police and the communities that they serve together. 

1) Stop supporting those that don't support you or respect your interests: If the owners don't support things that are in line with your standards call them out on it and pull your support if they fail to address your needs or concerns

2) Stop watching the NFL on TV: Viewership means dollars to these folks, hit them where it hurts by turning off the tv and start donating that time to a worthwhile charity or cause.

3) Stop going to the games at the stadiums: The NFL games make most of there monies in stadium, off of vending sales. Food, Jerseys, Beer, Soda, all of these things add up, if you are not there then they can't bank on your money.

4) Refuse to buy any merchandise from the NFL and their partners: Look below and you can see the list of the major partners of the NFL. Call them to action by pulling your support in every single way possible until your issues are addressed to your satisfaction. Trust that if there's a significant loss of revenue then these entities will do all that they can to get your business back.

5) Refuse to buy Madden or Play Madden Online: EA sports has been a sponsor since 1993. Switch out of Verizon for your cell service, they've been down since 2010. Look over the list and let each of these companies know how you feel and where you stand before threatening to pull your business.

6) Donate your time usually spent watching 12 hours of football on Sundays to a worthy cause. Donate your money to a worthy cause. Save your money. Just don't spend it on anything NFL or NFL related.

At the end of the day, I want to be counted as I stand in support of something that is not a Black Rights issue, but a Human Rights issue. If you think that we are all policed in the same way please look at the video in this link (listen to the man's voice as he describes for himself what he sees) and try to tell me that you disagree... Be sure to compare it to any protest that happened in Ferguson or Baltimore. Notice the lack of Army-like equipment used in this case while certainly present in both Baltimore and Ferguson.

As Far as I am concerned NFL owners and affiliates you are on notice. I and others like me will pull our patronage from you unless the following things are addressed to our satisfaction.

1) Colin Kaepernick gets a fair shake at making a team in the NFL if he chooses to do so.

2) Publicly promote and support a peaceful union between police departments in your city and all of the communities that they serve, particularly minority and areas with limited resources or any areas where there is a perceived discord between the police and the community they serve.

3) Donate money and time to promote the "olive branch" of peace and understanding to help bridge the breakdown between the police and these communities.

4) Discontinue blackballing players that don't fit into a narrow minded view of the world. Michael Sams is a victim of this issue to this day and it's a shame. Players that can play, should be allowed to play regardless of their sexual orientation or political views. *Riley Cooper played for 3-4 years after calling a Black man a nigger, as it was captured on video. Not to mention the scores of players that have committed actual crimes and are somehow allowed to remain on your rosters, often times without so much as a suspension from the NFL or the team.

This list is short and doable NFL, the clock is ticking...

The Power Of Love & Unity

As clearly as I can recall, it was a few minutes before midnight on a random late spring/early summer night. I was returning home from hanging out when I got the call. After noticing that it was my boy Kevin and looking at the time, I just decided to let it go to voicemail and I'd hit him back once I got home. I suppose I didn't want to be tempted to hang out any later than it already was. It had rained like cats and dogs earlier so the last thing I wanted to do was to stay out any later and risk getting caught in another torrential downpour. Next came a text message.

 Yo Mark hit me back immediately I need to talk to you now. 

As I pulled up to my house I read the message and my stomach turned. No idea what it was but due to the time of the call and tone of the message I could only assume that whatever it was, it had to be serious. You see Kevin doesn't just call out of the blue and he never leaves crazy text messages for me to read, that's something that is reserved for me and Shelby to do to each other. Making the call as I sat in the car, I braced myself for whatever in the hell this thing was.

I've known Kevin and Shelby since the 5th grade, so that sets our kinship up past the forty year mark by now. We all met playing Pop Warner Football in the mean streets of Fort Washington, Md. Me and Kevin were cool with each other immediately but me and Shelby, now that's another story. We became friends after a touchdown, excessive celebration, late hit and fight. Yep this was all one on play, not during a game, but during a scrimmage. Needless to say, our coaches broke up the fight and afterwards we became the best of friends. (He was scared of my left, ask Big Thawty it's vicious).

Ft Wash CannonBalls 

To say that the three of us are close is kind of misleading, but mostly an understatement. I can be one that separates from everything and everyone for no reason other than self preservation at any given time. But we all know this one thing about each other, if help is needed we will be on the way to sort shit out and move the fuck on. Shit, I once asked Shelby to help me move out of a condo and into a three story, four bedroom house. One week later, in 10 degree weather we drove a 40 foot moving truck down the narrow streets of Capitol Hill, just the two of us. It took all day with us clowning around moving out of one spot and moving in to the next with our work gloves (inside joke), but we got it done. The point is, when needed we always answer each other's calls. After all these are the two brothers that I have known through thick and thin, in good and bad times. We may not speak at all for months at a time but when we finally connect, it's like we never missed a day.

Yo Mark man, I'm not sure of the exact details or how in the hell to tell you this over the phone? Kevin said, as if he was fighting back a well of tears.

What the fuck is going on K Swann? Shit man, just tell me what it is I'm on my way to wherever you need me to be right now. I barked back, wondering what was next and who exactly was in peril.

It's our boy Jones, they found him in his car and he wasn't breathing. They were able to resuscitate him and there's a slight pulse now, but they are unsure if he will be able to make it through the night. 

Wait, what? Shelby's not what? Where in the hell is he now? What are you telling me Kevin, Shelby's dead? 

I'm saying get your ass over to INOVA Fairfax now, I'm just getting here and it doesn't look good. You got to get here now bruh. You need to get here right now, Mark. 

I'm driving there now. I'll hit you when I'm in the lobby. Fuck! 

Monique & Me 

It's crazy to think now but at the time I didn't cry, I simply drove through the rain as I called another one of our life long friends Monique to let her know what was going on. I knew she wouldn't want to be told later so I felt that the best I could do is call her immediately.

Monique, It's me. I need you to get over to INOVA Fairfax, Shelby's in trouble and it doesn't look good at all. 

Doesn't look good, what are you saying? Monique said quizzically.

I'm not sure of how the rest of that conversation ended, I was numb at the time. All I know is that by the time I got to the hospital she was there right behind me.

As we walked in and up to the triage desk the duty nurse smiled and said. Let me guess, you're here to see Shelby Jones right? 

Yes ma'am. We said simultaneously. 

Well damn, for someone that just got here he has a lot of good friends that were readily available on a random Saturday night? He's a blessed young man. He's in room...

We made it upstairs without having said one word to each other. In my head, I was bracing myself for the worse and trying hard to seem like I was calm and optimistic. Monique seemed poised and ready for whatever was ahead of us. Making our way to the room there was Carlene, Shelby's mother. Was I prepared to be strong for her? I hadn't thought it through, I always think shit through. I never want to do something off the cuff to cost someone their sanity or change the energy in a room. I remember telling myself to get it together before I was up in her face.

Shelby & Carlene (Mom Dukes)

Now Mark when you go in there don't be alarmed, he doesn't look like himself at all but we are knowing that we will pull him through this. Get that in your head before you go into that room ok? Carlene was the picture of stability and confidence as she straightened up my collars and pushed me towards his room. I don't want any tears in there understand? She continued through a slight smile.

I walked in and saw something out of a movie, this was not Shelby Jones, this thing with tubes running through every orifice available and beeping sounds all around him. This was not the dude I had just talked to early the same morning as he was going to run errands. This was not the dude that promised me he'd piss on my grave at my funeral once he pushed me off a cliff as we both reached 90 years of age. This was not my boy. I didn't cry, I don't think I could have at the time.

I stayed in the room for about thirty minutes or so praying with him and touching his hand so that he could at least feel my presence. There are not many people that know this about me, but I'll tell it here and now, I am terrified at the thought of being alone. All I could think to myself at the time is that Shelby was trapped inside himself, unable to make his way back out and all alone. It mortified me. I just wanted him to hear my voice to let him know that if he was still in there fighting to get back to the surface then I would do my part to let him know that I was there waiting...

K Swann & Shelby 

I left the room and saw Kevin, not a tear in his eyes, only determination on his face. Yo man I know it looks crazy, but our boy is going to walk out of here on his own. I don't know when or how long but I know we are going to get him out of this place man. Kevin said with a straight face.

Yeah, I'm feeling that way too K Swann. I retorted.

As I looked around I finally took notice of what the duty nursed meant, there were more than fifteen people in this small waiting area. All had gathered in less than an hour to be sure to get him back. Scanning the room I finally saw his girlfriend Sarah. She was in the corner crying her eyes out and trying to stay as composed as possible, no small task under the circumstances. We hugged and assured each other that Shelby would pull through. For a good portion of that night Shelby's friends, relatives, sisters and girlfriend sat around building each other up for the road ahead, no matter how long that road might be. It was uplifting.

Day after day and night after night for what seemed to be an eternity we came to reclaim our brother, friend, colleague, son, boyfriend. Whatever your connection to him, you were there to get him through and get him back. Each person tried something personal to them. When we were roommates in our mid twenties he'd play the song Wanted Dead Or Alive by Bon Jovi every morning as his wake up song. "I'm a Cowboy, on a steel horse I ride." To this day I hate those fucking lyrics and I hate that fucking song, but I'll tell you now I played it for him on day two and three and I thought I saw a reaction or two. On day three or four I remember calling a friend we had in common and placing the phone by his ear as she played one of his favorite songs and I kid you not this brother moved both of his corpse-like arms, raised them over his head and started moving them as if he was doing a two step. I swear on it. I cried laughing as I took the phone back and relayed the story over the phone. There was also a time when another mutual friend of our named Aaron came in with a harsher tone and approach than anyone had before and got results that no one had up until that point.

Look here now Shelby, you gonna need to show us a sign that you are in there man. You look crazy right now. Got your mama all nervous and stuff this is ridiculous. Aaron started off, sounding like a Southern Baptist Preacher. We gonna need you to blink, twitch or something so that we are not here wasting our time man. You got ya mama crying out here man. Suddenly there was a slight twitch.

I said get the hell up man and stop this foolishness now man... Another twitch, this time in his face.


I was ready to kick his harsh ass out of the room when I suddenly saw Shelby's mouth move and then saw him raise his left arm up slightly and then try to move his neck. Y'all don't understand. By now I'd been there for like five days or more and tried everything with little to no response at all and then in comes Reverend Ike with the "Eat the Cake Anna May" routine and this is the shit that's getting results. I was floored, but fuck the personal shit, this was making Shelby respond for some reason. I quickly ran out of the room (only two visitors at a time allowed in) and decided to forfeit my spot to his mother so that she could see what I had just seen Aaron be able to do.

I'm sure that his brother, mother, Sarah, Aunts, sisters, Keyona, Kevin, Monique, Lew, Rod, Flav, Hunter, Fager, Kathy Grant, Aubrey Turner and so many others have similar stories to add as well. I've only shared part of what I will always see as a miracle. I believe in things that are tangible to me. I have faith in things unseen but I am moved by action. Not fantasy nor theory, but actual sweat, blood and tears - action related tangible things. The miracle that I witnessed throughout this entire event isn't as mystical as is seems, at least not to me. There was an unstoppable force created by the togetherness of a group of people that shared a common purpose. We were not going to be denied. It takes a slew of dynamics to make for a perfect group but I'd argue that while you will need role players the most important parts of a group are the pillars or anchors. The two or more folks that hold the group together and from which everyone else draws their own strength from. Carlene, and Sarah shared this distinction for me.

Carlene you are the pillar of strength. You set the tone. You made the rules and held us accountable by looking each of us in the eye before we came in to load us up on courage and then once again to unburden our souls out on you as we came out of the room each and every time. You did so without flinching and without so much as an ounce of noticeable fear. You were then and remain so now, my hero of heroes.

Sarah you are the pillar of presence and familiarity. There's nothing more assuring than someone that you know is going to always be there. It's often said in sports that the best ability to have is availability. I'd say that's the case in every walk of life especially those of the critical nature. There was not one time that I came by that you weren't there allowing your presence to be felt and allowing us all to radiate back to Shelby the love that you showed us by allowing us to do our part to help. In cases like this there can be deluded heroes (those that make a thing about themselves rather than the recovery of the infirmed). You stayed by his side the entire time and made time for each of us to assure us that we were all in this together and that we would be so as a team.

Shelby's sisters, Aunts, Brother and Keyona; you guys are the definition of ride or die. Each of you made each one of us feel at home and even made it comfortable to laugh and have a good time. I swear to each one reading this, the hospital loved the energy that we brought day in and day out. They said as much daily. Even folks that were coming in to visit other patients commented on how reassuring and positive the energy in the room was and how much it helped to ease their fears for their own loved ones.  

Togetherness is one hell of a cure all. When folks are single-minded in purpose there is no goal too great to tackle. When there is a common cause and that cause is positive and righteous, there is no force too big to defeat. There was a power in that room that was greater than any one of us, but not yet as big as the sum of our parts. That power that bought us through was unity...

Being unified helped to clear out all of the noise. Whenever I walked into the room and saw a lifeless body I was weak, when I came out of the room and saw Carlene and Sarah I was made strong by borrowing heroism from them. This happened over and over again, so much so that I was able to be a pillar for others as they came out of the room ghost-faced and ready to say their Hail Mary's. We'd radiate them with our light of love, hope and healing through a hug, a quick word or maybe even a glance. Whenever one was down we all came in to bring them back up and vice versa. There is no denying the power of unity and togetherness. It's a wonderful thing...

I'll let Shelby tell you about his recovery, that part of this story is his to share if he so chooses. As for this part of the story, it's simply my perspective and as such I just want to thank everyone for our togetherness. There is no small part in a miracle everyone is a major player. Carlene and Sarah, I love you both for giving me the strength to show up and keep on keeping on. To the doctors and nurses, thank you for your determination and professionalism, without it you may not have gone above and beyond to assure such a happy ending. To Shelby Jones, thank you for having the courage to stick around and fight to get back, I'm not sure that I could have done so. Finally, to anyone that visited, called, thought, prayed, cried or whatever, thank you for your part, it was crucial to the outcome... 

Avery

Avery, Shelby & Sarah

Spoiler Alert: The two pictures directly above were taken post-event.

Insanity: Sick & Tired Of Being Sick & Tired...

"Insanity: Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results." - Albert Einstein.

From the time that I was a kid I was told by my elders (father, mother, brothers, sisters, etc.) to always show respect for police officers and for that matter any figure of authority. I was told to always be mindful that as a you Black boy, I was and am a target for hatred and fear for those that might want any excuse to do me harm. I was told to walk with less swagger in my gait, talk with less bass in my voice, be less expressive with my body gesturing or arms flailing and a host of other coping mechanisms. But what happens when all of those things fail to work? What happens when the very things that you were taught as survival techniques start to make you more of a target. This brings me back to the A. Einstein quote at the top of the page.

As the video starts (See Above) I see two smaller officers confronting a bigger man that seems a bit animated but is non-threatening to either officer in frame. To be fair, there seems to be an edit but then as the video continues I see one of the officers make contact with Mr. Garner from behind and then that same officer applies a choke hold to Mr. Garner. As more officers join in you can see that Mr. Garner has both hands up (in an act of compliance or at the very least, non-aggression)  he then immediately tells the officers that he can't breathe. As the fray continues, Mr. Garner hits the ground with with both hands loose before his right hand is placed behind his back by one officer and his right hand is free, with his palm open (another act of compliance or at least non aggression). At this point you can hear a muffled Mr. Garner telling the officers repeatedly that he can't breathe...

Let's forget about the race of all of these men for the sake of argument. Let's forget about the fact that there are 4 officers to 1 civilian. Let's even forget about the FACT that the officers initially confront Mr. Garner for suspicion of an offense that requires a fine and not arrest, despite that fact that it was later discovered that this man didn't even have in his possession what he was accused to have. Let's even forget that the choke hold used to subdue Mr. Garner has been banned for use by police officers for years. No matter how many elements we attempt to eliminate it still comes down to this one truth, a man died for nothing more than refusing to be bullied by a cop. We actually see this man's last moments on this earth play out for the entire world to take note.

Mr. Garner was a hulking man. Does anyone actually believe that he couldn't toss these little gnats off of him if he wanted to? He instead took the passive approach, that same approach that most if not all Black men are taught from an early age. I can clearly see and hear that he wants to be left alone. I can clearly see that he is afraid that if he uses any sign of force that he might pay for it with his life. I also see that he trusted in a system that is there supposedly to protect and serve but instead was swarmed upon by a pack of rabid hyenas there to take down their prey, dressed as police officers. All of this over a cigarette (loosey), the same item that can be purchased at any bodegas on that very block. Mr. Garner is dead.

Let me ask each of you one question? If you knew that you were about to die and you had a chance to defend yourself wouldn't you do so? Most people would come out kicking and screaming yet in this case Mr. Garner didn't appear to use any of his physicality to fight the officers off. We didn't see him throw one punch. We didn't even see him ball up his fist in an attempt to stop the officers from choking him. What we saw was a man passively resisting at first and then pleading for his God given right, A CHANCE TO BREATHE! What more do we have to see?

Wake Up America! How long are we supposed to trust that we are all safe? I'm serious! How long are we supposed to remain passive as we are rounded up for any petty reason that officers choose to detain us to have it end in murder? Why should I continue to trust that I won't be next in the fray? When did public servants take on the role of public masters & executioners???

There are some that will read this as an attempt to drum up trouble or a call to arms against the police,  to those folks I'll say simply this; Try that old "distraction tactic" on someone else, re-read what I have written without trying to read into it. I am saying that reform is needed in the worst way. I'm saying that our coping mechanisms have reached a tipping point as they no longer work to save us at all. I'm not so sure that they ever did work, after all I've learned that until you stand up to most bullies, you will indeed forfeit your lunch money to them on a daily basis. The day for being passive is over, it time to stand up and hold these few bad apples accountable for their crimes. The police are supposed to protect and serve not play judge and jury, not to bully folks just because they seem out of place and certainly not to assume criminality based on race or stereotypes. If the rough and tumble times are character defining moments, then America it's time to see what type of character we really have. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

  

 

 

Let's Listen, Internalize, Share & Discuss... Personal Interactions...

A friend posted a Vlog on his FaceBook page the other day about the Ferguson situation. While I didn't agree with most of what he said, I appreciated that he had an opinion and was urging his friends to express theirs. I have maintained that I would never do such, as a lot of times these things get way off topic and seem more like a forum for racist ideas, sexist rants and hate-speech, none of which do I want any part of.

After thinking for a while I decided that I can do my part in the conversation by asking folks of all races, colors and creeds to tell their own stories. What better way to help someone to understand your particular stance on related subjects is there than allowing someone to take a walk in your shoes by your own account ?

What I am asking is the following: Share whatever experience(s) you have had with the police be they good, bad or both. It's your story so be as raw or guarded as you wish and let's get the conversation(s) started. The intention is to garner understanding for and from both sides of the aisle. This is simply an attempt to help us understand each other and what we have gone through in hopes that change(s) can be made effectively. If not by us then whom? If not by now then when? My three stories will follow this sentence, yours will be captured by adding them to the comment box. All I ask is that we be respectful of each other as human beings, everyone has that right!

1) Random summer day early 80's - My first real interaction with the police was around 1982 (I was in my early teens). I had just gotten home from the REC (playing basketball) and was in the garage feeding my dog Rex, when my sister Joanie told me that a police car was in the driveway. I came inside to hear them asking my mother if she had a small light skinned son that was driving a red car earlier that day. My mother told them that she had a son that was home but, he is of a dark complexion and that he was too young to drive. As I walked in I remember one of the officers looking at me and saying "That's him right there." and grabbing my arm. I snatched it back and asked him what I was accused of when he told me hit and run. My father then told the officer not to touch me again until he spoke to me to find out if I knew anything about what they were talking about. The police didn't care at all, as far as they were concerned I could tell it to them at the station. As a Black kid in Southern Maryland a trip to the station was never to be trusted. By the time they would have finished with me (in the 80's) I would have been a suspect for every crime in a 4 state radius, at least this was my parent's thinking back in that day. So my parents held on to me for as long as they could. Despite the fact that I repeatedly told the police that I wasn't their man, despite the fact that I had an alibi, am darker than light skin and despite the fact that I didn't even know how to drive, I was handcuffed and walked down my driveway about to be put in the back of the police car when another officer pulled up and told the other officers that he knew me and my family from church and that there was no way I fit the description other than being Black. Thanks to excellent timing and a previous relationship with this officer that happened to be positive I was spared. I found out later that day that the REAL criminal had turned himself in and if you looked at the two of us side by side we would have looked as different from each other as Kid & Play did. It's worth noting that each of these PG County officers were White.

2) New Year's Eve late 80's - I was party hopping with a friend for the entire night when we decided to go to just one more spot before calling it a night. While we both had more than a few drinks, I decided that I would drive his car for him because I held my liquor better and was calmer under fire. As luck would have it, a state trooper pulled up beside us and looked into the car. As we looked back he slowly tapered off and pulled directly behind us staying there for about five miles before turning on his lights and pulling us over. As he approached the vehicle, I went into "save that ass mode", it's a mode that everyone in a precarious situation should know how to access and when to do so. Anyway, I told my boy to mess his hair up, prop his chair back and look as drunk as he possibly could without saying too much.

"Can I have your license and registration please sir?"  The officer asked, rather politely.

"Sure, what exactly did I do wrong sir?" I asked in the least defensive (most passive really) voice I could muster up.

"You seemed to be swerving when I got behind you. Have you been drinking?" He asked

"Have you ever had the pressure of driving behind an officer for five miles sir?" I asked as I handed my documents to him. "I had a couple of beers earlier and will gladly do a field sobriety test if you need me to, but as you can see my friend here had a bit too many so I need to get him home before he throws up in the car." I continued.

"Ft. Washington, you guys are quite a bit away from home, but Fort Washington is nice area. " The office said as he called in my license info.

My boy then said something that amounted to gibberish but seemed to validate my point to the officer and then it happened.

"Young man, you can learn a lot from your friend over here, don't drink more than you can handle and be respectful of yourself and those around you." The officer said to my boy Steve as he handed my back my stuff and told us to be on our way home.

We both laughed as he walked off but thanked God that we were spared for the night. It's also worth noting that Steve is Black and the officer was White.

3) Random summer day, late 90's - I lived in NW, Washington DC and was in my walkway going into my place when I heard a horn blow. I looked and saw that it was my girl Monique so I walked to the the  driver's side door as she pulled over to the side of the street so that we could talk. As I stuck my head in the window to kiss her on her cheek and be on my way an officer came zooming in, turned on her lights and started to yell at me.

"What in the fuck did you just put in her car, what did you just sell her?" The female officer said as she got out of her car and approached us with her hand on her gun.

"What?" "Are you talking to me ma'am?" I asked in shock.

"I saw you selling her drugs and throwing it in her car!" She snarled. "Ma'am, get out of your car!"

"Monique stay in your car, she's tripping and talking to the wrong dude!" I said back to her. "Do you know who I am lady? Do you know where I live? Have you ever introduced yourself to the folks on your beat? Get the fuck out of my face I ain't giving you shit! Now what?" I continued.

"Who in the hell are you talking to nigga? I'll take your stupid ass in right now!" She came back.

"Do you know officer Johns, the liaison for this district? Ask him who I am and you'll probably be reprimanded for violating my rights?" I shot back as her back up came down the street.

The officer that pulled up looked at me and said, "Mr. Crawford, is there a problem?"

"I'm good but you might need to tell your fellow officers that intimidation doesn't build the bridges to good community and police relations in the neighborhood.And while you're at it you might want to tell her that it's not professional to start off interaction with an adult by cursing at them." I finished as Officer Johns shook my hand and called off his rabid dog (that over zealous officer that had seemingly stereotyped me for having dreadlocks being Black and having the nerve to converse to a young lady while to Po-Po was around). It is worth noting that Officer Johns was White and the female officer was Black.

These are just three of my stories and I have have many, many more from Oakland, Baltimore, New Orleans and all over.

In story 1) imagine being 13 or 14, coming into the house a facing the possibility of being ripped from all that you know by being accused of something that you have no knowledge of. All I can say is that it can't help but to shape future interactions and plant seeds of distrust.

Imagine story 2) Was it my savvy that saved me or was it the fact that I was pulled over by a kind-hearted cop? Maybe it was the fact that I was from a "good neighborhood" that he was familiar with? I have no way of knowing...

Story 3) might be the most perplexing of all to me, while some would ask the question, "why would you curse at an officer?" I'd say to that once you approach a person and set a tone, that tone is set! Had she not cursed at me, a stranger to her, and disrespected me then I would not have felt the need to be so confrontational with her. Had she not put her hand on her weapon, I wouldn't have felt so trapped and in need of defending myself. Had she not predetermined that I was a criminal due to the hair on my head and the color of my skin then maybe she wouldn't have imagined that I threw drugs in my friend's car. Had officer John's not come up in a nick of time who knows what would have happened. What I do know is that when people feel trapped we go in to survival mode.

You will notice that I added the races of all officers involved with each of my stories. I did this to show that I have had varying results with all races of cops so I'm not saying that race is necessarily an issue in my cases. In fact, I'd argue that the initial interaction was the most critical element of each situation that I laid out. In 2 of the 3, the first contact or interaction that I had was positive and respectful so there was a deescalation from the very start. In the other situation there was conflict from the very start, I was cursed at and called out of my name but even in this one, the fact that I had a familiarity with one of the officers was in its self a tool for deescalation.   

I have maintained for quite some time that as a citizen (civilian) I expect to walk out into the streets and be safe. As an adult I understand the risk(s) taken by living daily. There are criminals out there that mean you and your property harm, accidents can happen and there's always nature to be wary of, that's what we signed up for. Police officers take the risk of placing themselves in harm's way everyday, that's what their job entails and I respect that greatly, but also gives them the right to use deadly force as they deem necessary. This burden carries along with it a great deal of  pressure, they have to determine how to best deescalate a situation. They have to determine, who's a threat and who's helpful. They have to get out into the community and meet folks so that these people aren't easy targets and as a result easy to dismiss as criminal and not worth a trial in the first place. By no means am I saying that the police are bad. I am however, saying that as long as situations like the ones hitting the headlines of late go unchecked or unchallenged the more likely we are to putting a segment of society in the hands of those that seem quick to judge and execute before dehumanizing and demonizing in order to justify their rash reactions and more importantly FEAR.

I can't help but be disturbed by the account of a grown man that is supposedly trained to protect and serve, a man standing 6'4 weighing 210 lbs giving an account of a child 6'4 292 lbs and saying that this man seemed like the Incredible Hulk to him as if that young man had super powers. I see it as a way to make the deceased (victim or perp depending on your side) sub human and attempt to explain, through FEAR why that ultimate decision was made in the first place. I wasn't there and have no idea what happened but I know that I don't want the situation to be repeated regardless of the color of the accused or the officer. That's my two cents, I hope that you will be kind enough to share yours with me. The only way that we will ever mend the fence is if we all talk about it for change...

Chuck Baby! Chuck Brown Memorial Park

Park Info

I can be a bit long winded, but for this entry there are very few words needed so I will keep this post short, sweet and most importantly, relevant. I took a visit to Chuck Brown Memorial Park today and was pleasantly rewarded. The park itself is immaculate, with a children's playground, tennis courts, basketball courts (glass) across the street, a bike trail and rolling hills, it really is a work of art on its own, but the job that was done on the Memorial really blew me away. It's classy, whimsical and appropriate. From the shiny, polished silver, to the pictures that seem to be alive, I think they (planning folks) really got this right, the only thing missing is an actual recording of Run Joe playing as you walk around, but I find it hard to imagine that anyone that knows his music and spirit doesn't have their own sound track of their favorite God Father songs playing in their head.

When I was in high school, back in the day, I remember playing Go Go Swing when my father walked in and quickly told me that I was singing Misty's Blues. Until then I swore I hated every and all forms of jazz, but leave it to Chuck to open my mind to something that I was unfamiliar with and make me not only open up, but love it. I imagine he had that effect on everyone that listened to his music. In fact I guess even in death he still has that effect, always the elder state's man but rocking out the youngins'. If there is anyone more deserving of a memorial, I surly have never heard of them.

 Trust me, these pictures don't do this place the justice it deserves so please go out, take the kids and a camera and check it out for yourself.

The Everything You Fear Is Fear Itself!

I needed to take this picture…

I suppose the first recollection I have is when I was about 6 or 7 years old. I would scream at the top of my lungs whenever my parents would leave me and my younger sister in the car so that they could drop in to the grocery store for a minute or two. These screams were by no means muted or normal, I would have full on fits while Joanie, my younger sister would stare at me and shake her head in both annoyance and disbelief. 

The next memory I have is from about 20 years ago. I was playing basketball at the Y, after a night of drinking and took an elbow to my neck. As I struggled back to my feet, and leaned on the wall, my whole world changed in a flash. With one elbow to the neck I was back in that back seat in my parent's car screaming at the top of my lungs not wanting to be left alone. I could see my heart beating out of my chest and felt that I was in danger. I wasn't sure of what the danger was, but I was sure that in a room full of no less than 30 grown men, I was all alone. 

Last year when I left the States to go to Dubai while sitting at the Social House, a restaurant in The Mall Of Dubai, as I ate it started to hit me. Suddenly my chest tightened, what I was hearing seemed garbled and my arms started to tingle all over. Here it is again, I'm all alone in a place that has at least 200 people in it and I'm losing it. I quickly asked for the check and left as coming up for air normally did the trick. 

Yesterday as I took on the task of taking a 60 mile bike ride, I decided I'd take a familiar trail in order assure myself that I would get it done, the only issue was that I would have to head down that trail for at least 10 more miles than I had ever been before. As I approached the very spot that would mark my new conquest it hit me. Suddenly the road closed in on me, the sky darkened, my breath quickened and my heart started beating out of my chest. As I continued on my head started to spin and I felt disoriented. I looked ahead and for the first time in 20 miles of riding for the day, I noticed that I was all alone. It was as if the world was suddenly depopulated and there I was having to fend for myself. The music in my headphones became deafening and the trees along the trail started to crowd me. I thought to myself, "my only hope is to turn around to what is familiar." I started to turn around and then it hit me. This wasn't panic, there was nothing wrong with me at all. What I was feeling was fear. I was caught in the cold grip of it and needed to break away from it in order to save myself. 

Panic attacks should be redefined as fear attacks, it's easier to combat when thought about in proper context. Trust me, in my head I am going through a list of things to define the moment at hand and help me to cope with the situation so the least of the issue is the panic. It is fear that keeps me still. It is fear that has my mind wandering. It is fear that makes me take an assesment of each of my faculties, my heart, my pulse, my breath, my vision, my hearing, my soul, my sense of abandonment and my sense of security in that moment. 

In an attempt to understand why I am haunted by the issues from time to time, I have linked the feelings that I have shared in these times to my first account, maybe the feeling of abandonment or feeling alone was the trigger in that case, maybe it's the trigger in each case. Knowing the trigger(s) is helpful to me in the defining moment as it helps me to realize that this thing can be fought and conquered if I am properly prepared. 

Fear has a crippling effect, it grabs you by the waist and holds you in place as if the only protection is to stand in place and do nothing. I'm sure of the road that I just traveled, but I have no clue of what lay ahead and after all, there could be danger, is the thought that dominates you in that moment. 

As for my ride yesterday, I'm happy to say that I continued on after realizing that the issue was the road yet to be traveled, the one unknown was the road that lay ahead. I'd traveled the road behind me more times than I cared to share, but that road ahead was full of goblins as far as I was concerned. I submit to you that the day was sunny and bright with the exception of this minute, the picture at the top was taken in that moment. It's funny, that this entire episode only lasted for about 30 seconds or so but to me and people like me, this 30 seconds seems to last for days and can strike at any moment. I wasn't going to write about this, as it is so personal, but a friend posted a video on Facebook today (the video attached) 

that was THE right thing at just THE right time. Jim Carey's video spoke to my soul and gave me another tool in which to arm myself in my childish moments. I beg you to take the time to listen to this 3 minute video and send it to a friend that may be in need. I chose a few of my favorite quotes from his speech that related to the issues that haunted me in the past and claim that today I choose Love and will never look back again. I claim victory over fear and would like to give others a chance at the same peace that came over me yesterday and was confirmed today after watching the video. "The effect you have on others is the most valuable currency there is."  "Our eyes are not viewers, they are also projectors that are running a second story over the pictures that we see in front of us all the time; Fear is writing that script."  "Choose love and don't ever let fear turn you against your playful heart." 

I'd like to thank Angela Clark for posting the video, the timing couldn't have been more suitable...

Run Go Tell That! The Grand Age Of Misinformation.....

Eggs on Windshield Hoax

At some point the world spun backwards on its own axis. It used to be that reporters, writers and the like did their due diligence before releasing a story for mass consumption but at some point that all changed. Was it pre or post 9-11? I'm not quite sure, but the one thing I do know is with the advent, accessibility and popularity of social media the age of misinformation is in full bloom.

Semen in Mayo Hoax

Social media like Facebook, Vine, Twitter and Instagram have sprouted a wave of freelance journalist, reporters and photographers. This in and of itself is useful but when the person reporting, writing and capturing pictures or video of critical moments in a bystander's life has absolutely ZERO integrity, there is a high probability that misinformation will be spread. There's also the chance that  threads of ignorance will be spewed as pious opinionated assholes give unwanted and more importantly un-researched opinions on subjects that they are just not an authority on. All this while the fears of an already overly fearful society will be realized and acted upon by the "town criers". Those that stand downtown on their soap boxes screaming "Run for the hills the end is nigh!" "Get batteries and water the world will end in 2000!" or "Dec. 21st 2013 is the end of of the Mayan Calendar, get your affairs in order !"

Crying Baby Gang Lure Hoax

The issues that I have are these:

1) Spreading misinformation makes you part of the problem.

2) Refusing to fact check makes you a non-credible source for information.

3) A failure to understand what satire is makes you an idiot that should want to stop posting.

4) Posting scandalous nonsense for likes or hits makes you desperate for attention. * They have help for that....

5) Profiting from lies and rumors make you a smut peddler.

6) Spreading fear leads to erratic behavior, control and violence.

Spider Under The Toilet Seat Hoax

At the end of the day we all do what we do for our own personal reasons and that's fine. I'm a chef, blogger, photographer, writer, cyclist, traveler and humanitarian that happens to be opinionated, but I tend to base my opinions on factual, tangible and provable information before I throw it out for consumption. The media carries out enough smoke and mirrors tactics on the public at hand (that would be you & me) so there is no need for us to follow suit with them. We should want for more and demand more from them, but that's got to start with us checking ourselves and each other first and being receptive to change once we are called out on it. Some may still ask, "What's the big deal?", the big deal is FEAR, it's controlled the masses since the beginning of time and cost lives, millions and peace. I'd much rather do my part by spreading truth and understanding.

NAACP Gives Zim Lifetime Achievement Award Satire

I have pledged that this year whenever I see a post like the examples that I have given in this article, I would do my best to research the story and post its origin so that people have both sides of the story. It may seem petty to you and some may even be offended but I have my agenda which is to hold myself, my friends and those that want to "Run Go Tell That" accountable for the things that we post and by that hold the media to a higher standard.

Ignorance & Rap (Not Hip Hop there's such a difference) 

On a separate but related note I saw several post about the damage that VH1 and its programming is doing damage and harm to Black men, women and children. I tend to agree in some ways but I have a different take on it. After all the participants aren't White people dressed in Black face acting out the parts, these niggas are actually Black, ignorant low-brows that have found a way to make money off of their "caricaturized", stereotypical ghetto azzes. We can refuse to watch those things by simply changing the channel. We can refuse to acknowledge them by not posting about them. We can refuse to allow them to profit off of the smut they peddle by avoiding their sponsored events, websites or related entities. The one thing that I know for sure is the way to make change is to take the ability to profit monetarily from a thing. Posting about these things only  brings more attention to it. *I'm sure some of you are asking "Ain't you the pot calling the kettle black as you post about these things here and now?" To that I say, I'm doing so responsibly by posting truth and an educated opinion of the things that I would like to see changed positively. I'll support anyone else in their venture to do the same but if you happen to spread misinformation I will come at your post. Please don't take it personally I just have a penchant for wanting to see more truth than lies, a need for seeing more positive than negative and a duty to spread more love than hate.