HTTP://WWW.REALSAMJOHNSON.BLOGSPOT.COM

 

Go there now. Because I'm never gonna post anywhere else ever again.

I wanted to be tongue and cheek with the title for this but today I can't. Just when I think I have things worked out, I now get hit with news that I have been evicted from my home. It's something that I did not expect, although I have been behind in my rent for the past few months. It was actually over two years time and I have made attempts to catch up. However during the Summer, things began to become difficult and I did my best to cover my bils as much as possible, to the point that my bank account has become overdrawn. Usually, I try to smile and keep my head up whenever things go from good to bad, but at this point there's nothing to shine here. The economy has become a joke, gas and food prices are at an all time high and the struggle of one man on disability can be devestating. I have at least a week to find a new home under 600 dollars a month (my current rent) or pay off my overdue rent to stave off collectors, which I don't have available. Hence the eviction. I will suspend posting until further notice and concentrate on the problem at hand. If you need to reach me, my email address is samjohnson@gmail.com, where I will try to do my best to answer any and all questions that you may have. Until I return, keep smiling. Thanks and I hope to talk to all of you during better times.

I thought I'd share this one with you all as a taste of what I'm doing now. If you want more, then check out my blog. I know that some of you are too lazy to click over, so here you go.

You know I'd be much nicer to you all if you'd even TRY to make the attempt. SHEESH.

        From right to left, Ray Steele, Crystal St. John, Medowlark Lemon, Kenya Cabine and a starry eyed punk.

When I grew up in the Seventies, I had three major heroes in my life, other than Superman. They were Muhammad Ali, Evil Knievel and Medowlark Lemon from the Harlem Globetrotters. The three men were larger than life in their sports, that is you call jumping over Snake River Canyon in a rocket cycle athletic. It was my dream as a kid to one day meet my heroes and while one is living a quiet, private life due to Parkinson's Disease and the other from ironically, kidney failure, the third is still around as The Clown Prince of Basketball.

I had the pleasure of seeing Medowlark Lemon along with other with other former members of the legendary 'Trotters in a charity game for the victims of and families of the Imperial Sugar refinery explosion of last year against local radio and television personalities, fire fighters, clergy and others here in Savannah. Although a serious cause, it turned out to be a very fun event. If you're wondering if I played by the way, sadly I didn't nor couldn't. Although we had others from the radio stations involved, I couldn't due to my stupid kidneys. I would have done anything I could have to at least said I got jammed by a Globetrotter and even threatened to run home, grab my jeans shorts and hi-tops and taken the court. It would have also involve an oxygen tank as soon as I made it to half court as well, so I cheered. For both sides. I wore my station shirt, but underneath I wore my limited edition Harlem Globetrotters long t-shirt from FUBU. I'm sorry but if my brother played for the Washington Generals, I wouldn't root for him either. It's a good thing this game is for a good cause, otherwise I don't know those bums.

Crystal and I working on pregame strategies. By the way, the socks she's wearing are mine, so I was kinda sorta in the game.

Watching Medowlark and the other Harlem All Stars took me back to what most would call "a simpler time", that being childhood, which is never "simple" in the first place. In my day, you were either a fan of the 'Trotters or not. If you were "not", you were hated despised and possibly stoned to death. I was one of the smart ones. I followed the team first on television as I saw their first cartoon show on Saturday Mornings. These guys were so good, they had an old lady driving them around while continuing to dribble a basketball out of a moving vehicle. Plus, all the tricks they did on the cartoon court somehow came to life on the real court, other than going head to head with robots and pirates. Still, if anybody could out shoot, out dribble, out anything the Medowlark and the Globetrotters could do it, even becoming the first African-Americans to have their own Saturday Morning show.

I was very lucky to talk to Mr, Lemon a few times before the game, once when I was entering the Savannah Civic Center and saw the great man signing autographs and got to shake the hand of the man who made my days just a little bit better when I saw him on the black and white screen. He was just a bit older now, but he still had that great smile and that twinkle in his eye that he carried with him around the world. I told him that I was finally blessed to meet him and was humbled by his presence. He told me "thank you", but to me he seemed humbled that so many people still remember those good days and still honor him for all his work.

Later at a reception with all the game players, I was told by the radio station's marketing director that one of our fellow players had decided that since he showed up for practice after he volunteered to play, he'd go home. Truthfully, I was pissed. How dare you agree to do something for charity and then turn around and walk away from it, I told the marketing director. Surprisingly, Medowlark was standing right next to me and overheard what I said. He asked me what was wrong and I explained to him the situation. He looked at me, but his hand on my shoulder and said, "That's okay, man. You're here and that's good enough." There's been moments where I just want to stop being a man and become a boy just once more so if I cry people would understand when the man you look up to let's you know everything is going to be alright. For just a moment, I forgot about something stupid someone else had done and nearly returned to being myself at ten years old seeing my hero in real life at the Civic Center in his prime with all his teammates. Curly, Goose, Marcus, Gator and the rest. It took everything I had to return to being 42 and holding back the mist in my eyes so Medowlark wouldn't see me want to cry.

In all, it was an amazing game. The Savannah team lost, of course but not to worry. They played their best, if not good enough. Okay, let's just they were adequate. The biggest surprise was from the rabbi who got a three point hook shot off Medowlark and even the both of them were shocked it happened. Also, most of the All Stars were former Savannians who graduated from my Alma Mater, Beach High School. In fact one of them, Larry "Gator" Rivers dated my sister Shirley when they both went to the school, which meant I was this close to becoming the brother-in-law of a Harlem Globetrotter and none of you would ever hear the end of it. The best part is money was raised for the victims a horrible tragedy that shouldn't have happened. If the joy and laughter that The Harlem All Stars brought to Savannah with their classic antics made you return to your "simpler time" and made you forget your troubles, then their job is complete.

Did I mention that could have been related to the Globetrotters?                                   Me and my almost brother-in-law.

 

 

 

Hi there. Miss me? I thought you might.

I don't know if any of you know from the bulletins recently, but my laptop died and the only time I get to use a computer is when I go to work, which sucks. But what can I do? What really makes it bad is that this Sunday is the fifth anniversary of Sam-a-Rama. So, I what the Hell. I won't get to a PC on Sunday, let's celebrate it NOW.

I just wrote a post to honor the big day, which I think is cool. It was hard to work on two blogs when you have one to begin with, by the way. that is why I decided to work on that one instead of spreading myself out and I'm much happier for it.

Anyway, if you get a chance, stop on by and leave a greeting or something. It'll be good to see you.

Be good. Tom is watching you.

"Friday was Ronnie's wedding to Brenadette on Fripp Island. The ceremony was small with only a handful for family memers there and of course I was the only lump of coal in a snowbank. Actually, there was another Black guy there, but he was with his long time companion, so he gets half a credit. I was actually happy and still stunned that I was in the wedding. So nervous in fact, that as Ronnie, his brother and best man Rick and I came walking out, I bumpedinto the table that held the champagne glasses and one fell over, crashing to the ground and breaking."

 

What happened next? Check out Sam-a-rama and the post "That Was The Weekend That Was" today or you'll be left out!

 

Guess what movie I won't be seeing at midnight?

"Okay, here's the thing on this. I was never really a fan of "Sex In The City" in its original run. There was nothing there to interest me. All right, Kim Catrall naked almost every episode was okay, but I am a guy. I'm far from Mas Macho, but I am a guy. I do know of many straight guys who watched the show because their girlfriends or wives watched it and they couldn't escape it and were drawn in. I just never felt the groove."

Wanna read more? Then head over to Sam-a-rama right now to read this mind blowing post! It may change the way you look at TV. Or something like that....

I know that there's a lot of folks out there who I guess how have I been living there days or what's going on in my head after ther last few posts. Maybe I just decided to just vent or to let it all hang out. Maybe I've had a moment of clarity in all of my insanity. Perhaps I truly do have nothing left to lose except time and space. I've just done my best to keep my head up and smile though all the crap.There's been lots of crap going on lately.You're read it all here on this page instead of Sam-a-rama, where life is nice and peaceful. Funny how that all worked out, eh?

I'm getting ready for the fifth anniversary of Sam-a-rama, which is June 29th. When it began, that was the palce for me to vent, thinking no one would ever gpo there. Somehow, that didn't work out as I found folks that picked up on it and soon I began to see readership grow. Hell, I even got a mention on Slate once. I then quickly moved to more funnier topics of my life and of pop culture and once You Tube hit, that was all she wrote. Then I found out about My Space like many of you and soon I made more connections. There lies the problem.

I'm glad to know many of you all who've made friends with me, as I can use all the pals I can get. I'm also glad that many of my offline friends have showed up to lend support to me here. The thing is that this place has made me an asshole. The bad part is that I kind of like it. To be truthful, a few of the online "friends" have made me force that hand. I've since then gotten rid of them, but it made me think for a bit. My Space was created for social networking and to make friends, so why has it made me so angry?

To make it short, I'm going to try to go back to the old me for a bit. That means focusing a bit over the Summer on Sam-a-rama. I have a few plans ahead for the site and I'd really love for you to stop by and check it out. As for My Space, I won't be deleating my account here, but I won't be doing too many posts here for the next few months. Other than bulletins about karaoke or radio gigs or such, all wrtitings, essays, You Tubery will be there for the forseeable future. Now, for those of you too lazy to move a mouse and click over because I'm not here all the time, well get over it and yourself (that's the new me talking there), because that's how it is and that's how we'll do it.

I better answer some of your questions now on all of this, by the way. No, "Underground Savannah" clips will only be on Sam-a-rama and no where else. No, the blog here will be used to send folks to the home site. No, I'm sorry. The second Darrin on "Bewitched" was played by Dick Sargent. That's Sargent. Circle gets the square.

I hope you all do stop by and check out Sam-a-rama. It is pretty cool. We have a penguin named Carl and everything. Until then, let me leave you some words to live by. They aren't mine and they are not Kurt Vonnegut's, but they were used in a graduating speech back in 1997. I'd say that these words should sum up how we all should live...

"Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75^th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen."

Author: Mary Schmich (USA)
First published: July 1, 1997
Copyright: Herald Tribune

See you all @ Sam-a-rama!

It'sa about four in the morning on a late Friday/early Saturday and I just came back from a karaoke gig. I really don't have much to say, but I do have to say is on my home site. Go there and watch the new Weezer video as well.

Hey, even us good guys need a holiday or two. I'll see you after Monday.Love ya, mean it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_IctDbZ-t1I

I needed something to fit that last post, and Muppets RULE! Even Miss Piggy was nuts! Sing, Rolf!

I'm just gonna say it.

If it was not for the fact that they have soft curves, nice breasts and great asses, I swear I would just leave them alone for good. I couldn't be gay. I actually thought about that for a bit and said "no". I have friendsa who are gay and they don't recruit newbies anyways. Also, I will not ever "take one for the team". EVER. That that there's anything wrong with it and my name ever comes up duriing the act.

I swear to Jeebus this is driving me nuts because they are driving me nuts You think you meet the right one and they never to turn out to be the right one. Today, I had to deal with two women. One was the culpret of the The St Pat's Massacre of 2007. I've never told that story here and really don't want to because it it too long and sad and yet, funny as shit. A few of you off line know it, so everyone ask them about it. Anyway, She wrote me an email about the post I wrote about how to end drama in your life and soon enough, I was in one of those things where the astronaut spinning aroung on a room until their face gets smooshed. aShe then replied that she was sorry that she stressed me. I then sent her a letter back saying that she didn't stress me. I can just throw the letter away. Wat she did was T.M.I Drama or Too Much Informantion. I must not have ben too mad at her still. It has been a year after all and she still had a nice ass.

SEE, DAMMIT! YOU SUCK US INTO YOUR WEB OF HELL! WE LOVE YOU, WE HATE YOU! DAMN!

I also spilled my guts out to another woman last night. Why did I do that? Because as she said, everyone else bullshits hera and I tell the truth. So I told her the truth that I have a crush on her bu then I saw that her relation status changed on her page, going from single to seeing someone. It hurt be a bit, but I thought that she was better off with another guy maybe. After I sent her that, I heard nothing beck from her. Not a word.

The next day, I sent her a message asking her how she was hoping that would have heard something about my email. She said she was fine and things were good for her today, whithout one acknologment about the letter. I then sent another email back that said, "Umm, do you recall that I spilled my guts you to last night after I had a long day? Could you please give me some sort of reaction from it so I know were I stand here? By the way, if I get back an "awww, poor Sam,I am gonna be pissed".

I haven't hear from her since that, sadly.

I know that I must be like the Silver Surfer on this. I go by and see how f'ed up everyone else's love llife is like and I get to sit back and watch. I don't even get to  touch  them anymore. FIVE FUCKING YEARS HERE, PEOPLE! And no, not even that alone because I am too tired to have a sex drive from this dialysis shite. Still, I put up with women for this long because THEY ARE WOMEN. If you look deep in their eyes, I swear there's a tiny little elf that sits in there with a little crazy crank and that elf cranks that sucker as fast as it can just to see how far it would go.I call the condition "The Crazy Eyes". It's in there. You just have to look with the right light.

So, there you go. It is what it is. You women make me mad as all Hell. You sit there and tell me stories that would put Mark Twain or Tyler Perry to shame. We do out best to listen, but sometimes enough is enough! We've heard enough about the drama at work. Yes, we knew that bitch at work was crazy, but you had to stick around her because she always made the Krispy Creme run in the mornings and you got first dibs. The shit drives us nuckin' futs! But we love ya. You got that "thing"  We are your slaves, dammit. What spider shall we kill for you and do you want the trash out today?