Musicking:
"Guess Who I Saw Today" - Chante' Moore
"From Pain to Joy" - Betty Wright
"Chain of Broken Hearts" - Lisa Fischer

I parked my car and noticed that I was already late for work. It was a smooth drive from Savannah, minus the construction near Darien, GA, but stopping to get something to eat at a Taco Bell/Pizza Hut/KFC didn't seem to be the brightest idea, considering it added twenty minutes to my travel time (hence me being late for work). I ran into the apartment, grabbed the first pair of khaki pants and red shirt that was visible, and darted back to the car. I hadn't noticed the wind picked up until it tossed my dreadlocked ponytail onto my right shoulder. I chuckled at the thought and then entered my car. My routine set in: insert key, turn, release after ignition starts, scroll through Zune to play something decent and listenable, put on seatbelt, adjust AC, look down at my phone...

And in between looking at the phone and putting the car into drive to speed off, I looked up; not one of those random look-ups, but something forced, more pronounced than usual, as if someone called my name thisclose to my face. I looked up...

I saw him.

I stared for a moment, not really believing my eyes, and not really wanting to. I had to stare for a moment, as if my eyes needed to focus on what I was seeing, like being stranded in the Sahara and seeing a mirage of water ahead. I squinted to change focus, adjusted my glasses, anything, just to make sure I wasn't completely crazy.

It was him.

I wasn't sure how to feel, I didn't know what to say, I didn't remember anything I ate or what song I was listening to...I just blankly stared. He motioned at me, no, more like beckoned, as if he was calling me to get out of the car and at least speak, especially given that we made eye contact. Laughing at myself for knowing him more than I know myself, but cursing myself at the notion of actually getting out of the car, I put the car into drive and sped off. Of course, instinctively, I looked in my driver's side rearview mirror and the inside rearview to see if he was still standing there, which, much to my chagrin, he was.

I was in shock.

There he was; a man that I despised to no end at one point, decided to forgive, only to despise again for leaving me without calling, texting, emailing, Facebooking, MySpacing, Hi5ing, Tagging, Classmating, ANYTHING, just upped and stopped calling. Sure, the words "I love you" were said far more than once between us, but did I really mean it? I mean, the one man I could EVER love more than I love myself just upped and stopped calling and upped and stopped texting, whom I haven't seen in SOOOO long, just upped and stood in my parking lot out of the *bleep*ing blue sky?

I wasn't having it.

I can't remember what speed I was driving, I just remember hearing the flashing lights and sirens and wondering if they were behind me. I looked ahead and noticed that they weren't in front of me, so I was cool. At that moment, reality set back in; I was late for work!! I blasted the melismatic sounds of Betty Wright (I never noticed how much PREACHING she does inbetween all those vocal stylings) and felt the wind strongly punch my face, as if it was determined to get through me. I remember my tires screaming for some sense of mercy as I lurched the car in different directions, just to be less late for work than I could be. Parking spot, open door, exit, lock door, enter building. This routine was starting to get on my last bit of nerves, I kept telling myself.

Entering a less-than-chaotic store calms my nerves, that much I remember. I went to clock in for work and my mind goes back to my apartment parking lot and wondering if HE would ever decide to show up to my store. I recall him coming to my store once, a few years back. Not really knowing how to introduce him and not really wanting anyone to really notice our interaction, even though I'm sure they all did, even the bold few who decided to come speak. Only those closest to me got the REAL introduction; all others got the rushed change-of-subject sentence. My mind takes me back to that awkward time and then back to the present day, hoping that history does not repeat itself.

The goings-on of the day goes on, and eventually, it's time for my lunch. I have the pressure on my chest or heart or emotions or something, something that I really didn't want to talk about but definitely needed to. Instead of my usual routine of heading to McDonald's and praying that my parking space is still there upon my return, I decide to grab a pizza from the "food court" as it's affectionately called, and then go to the car to eat it and be away from the store. I get into the car, fiddle with my Zune and land on Lisa Fischer. I set the song and push play, and look up to see him standing there.

Him. Standing there.

I think of all those stalker movies and how the stalkee always seems to get injured or killed while trying to flee their stalker, and then I wonder how fast I can put the car in reverse and pull away, or at least hit some random cars to draw attention to the scene. Does he have a gun? Is he here to exact some sense of revenge for all those hurtful things I said before? "It wasn't my fault; you left ME!" I was thinking of saying if the approach seemed ominous. I sat there and watched him come closer to the car and then that beckon again. For some reason, the call was answered; I rolled my window down, just enough, and he peered in.

"Can we talk?"

Not wanting to attract any unwanted attention and feeling the waterworks begin, I obliged. He sat in the passenger seat, looked at me up and down, and hugged me. Not one of those I'm about to stab you in your back hugs, but one of those loving hugs...and then I felt the love all over again, the love I had longed for all those years ago, the feeling of him being there beside me and not letting the world and words of the world get me down, the love of it being just me and him against the world, no matter what the world was thinking or saying otherwise. It was at that moment that I didn't care who knew that I loved him, who saw me hug him, or who heard those loving words flow from our mouths to each other.

We loved each other, and that's all that mattered.

I grabbed my pizza and offered him some; he declined. We decided to go back into the store, to where we just sat and talked. Not just "hey, how are you doing" talk, but TALK as if there was nothing that wasn't worth saying. It was a gooooood talk, enough to matter; saying everything and nothing at the same time, just to hear each other's voice. I didn't care who saw and I didn't let anyone interrupt. I just sat there and listened and talked when it was my turn...

I noticed that it was time for me to go back to work and I stood up. I told him I needed to get back to work; he said he couldn't stay, he was just here for a moment. I didn't want him to leave; I wanted this moment to LAST. A couple co-workers looked at us and smiled. One said, "oh, so THIS is who you've been bragging about and talking about all this time; I can see why!" and then exchanged pleasantries. I was PROUD to introduce him to anyone who was willing to know who he was. I was ecstatic that people were embracing him and it felt good to know that people KNEW that I loved him. He turned to go home. I hugged him and told him that I would see him later; he said he couldn't wait to talk to me again. That felt soooo good. He got to the front door and almost-whispered, "I love you Jamaal."

"Are you going to clock in or what?"

I looked behind me. One of my co-workers was standing behind me in that typical, I'm-about-to-roll-my-neck-..at-you-if-you-even-atTEMPT..-to-get-smart-with-me exasperated look. I turned back around to see no one standing at the door, to which I just stared for a moment. The beeping of time clock commenced behind me and my co-worker swished by me. I sighed, stared at the door one more time, then turned back around to clock in for work. I took one step, stopped, looked up, sighed, and then, finally brought my mind and words together to say:

"I love you too, Daddy."



Happy Birthday, Daddy. I love you. Rest in Peace.

Just a quick lil' update...


J-Blog 07.13.09

'Nuff said.  Haven't done one of these in a LONG time

Whattup peeps?  I'm in my reflective mode...and this will be one of the most personal blogs I have ever written...

Today is October 28, 2008...as most everyone knows, my father passed away about three months ago (thirteen weeks to the day). Today, he would have been 49 years old.

I'm not exactly sure how I feel about that.  I've never been extremely close to my father, but that stems from me not really accepting the fact that he did the best job he could.  I looked around at my friends, and even some of my family, who still had both their mothers and fathers as a permanent part of their family.  Yes, I was an envious child; seemed to me the best families had both parents at home.

To no discredit to either of my parents, I had always wished that they were both there...maybe I would have grown up a different person?  Don't get me wrong...I LOVE the me that I am today.  Strong-willed, independent, opinionated, sarcastic, and critically analytical person that I am, I have grown into myself.  Yet, I often wondered how I would have turned out had my father and mother been married and raised our family together.  I'd be a lot closer to my sister and maybe most of our family wouldn't be so disjointed...

My father did the best job he could...he and my mother weren't married, and I wrongfully blamed him fully.  He and my mother were both in the navy, deployed at different times, stationed at different places, simply because he and she were not married.  Growing up, I never fully understood that...but it made me a bitter child towards my father.  I'd blame him for the slightest things...I never hated him, ever at all...just wished he was there.

As I got older, I noticed my way of thinking was quite biased and even jaded.  Nevertheless, I always realized that he wished he were closer to me...and wanted the best out of our family possible.  He always spoke highly of his children and his family, even though, most of the time, we were some of the most dysfunctional people you would ever see.  We needed our own reality TV show!  LOL.  Nevertheless, he had a deep-rooted sense of family that, even after his death, still holds today.  I still run into people, via email and in person, that tell me how often he spoke of me, his son, doing so much educationally and being a role model for him.  Go figure!  The son being a model for the father?  Surely, I MUST do that honor some justice, for he was a role model for me...

Yes, I miss him...yes, I wish I could take back all those years of misguided envy and loathing.  But, I thank God for his time here on Earth...because he has helped me grow in more ways than one...

I think sometimes that I could never be the man my father was...but, I don't think I want to be anymore.  I want to be the best me that I can be, based on his life and his experiences.  Yes, I look like him, hell, even close to his twin.  LOL.  But, I'm me...

And that's just what he has taught me to be.

Love ya pops...rest easy.  Be of good work to the Lord...
William Bailey - October 28, 1959 - July 30, 2008

Whattup my peoples!!!

For some reason, I couldn't upload or embed these videos to Facebook, so a lot of my Facebook peoples are being redirected here...

These are the videos I shot while I was in Norfolk and Chicago back in July/August. This is where you get to see how goofy and silly I can be. Fun times!! Enjoy them all.

The other day, I was walking down the street with my cousin George, my father, and my brothers, Tre'Von and Brandon, headed towards the park just to play catch-up. It had been a LONG time since I had seen any of them and it was good to have them all in the same place, just talking and what not. It had been a while since I was back home in Chicago anyway, so we all decided to just hang out and chill with one another.

As we were walking, I noticed an old friend, Terrence White, that I hadn't seen since eighth grade. I told my family that I would catch up with them, and that I had to go say wassup to Terrence, seeing how I hadn't seen him in 13 years. I ran into a store, following him. Upon entry, I noticed that he was nowhere to be found. I looked, looked, and looked again, to no avail. Where in the world did he go?

Finally, I heard some voices coming from above; instinct told me to look up. At the top of some stairs, there he was, coming down. "Oh my God, it's Terrence White!" I said to him, which elicited a smile from him. "Wow, Jamaal Bivens, the smartest dude in Higgins," he said. We shook hands, hugged, and grinned at each other. What seemed like an eternity passed as he and I played catch-up, updating each other on the goings-on in our lives. Then, I realized that my family just might be looking for me, so we exchanged numbers, and I promised to call him when I returned to Jacksonville.

After walking for a bit, I finally caught up with my family, as they were nearing the park. My youngest brother, Tre'Von, had the silliest idea that he could pick me up. "Jamaal, I can, watch!" he said as he proceeded to bear-hug my thighs and attempt to hoist me in the air. I laughed at his determination; my younger brother, Brandon, laughed as well. Brandon then told Tre'Von, "This is how you do it." As he attempted, I told him, "Now you know you are 'Skinny Minny', so there is no way you are picking me up." Of course, he couldn't. I glanced at my cousin, who looked back at me and said, "Now you know I ain't even trying."

My father laughed at each of them. "Come here Jamaal, you know I can get you," he said to me with his trademark sheepish grin. I leered at him. "Dad, you know I am taller than you. How do you profess to pick me up?" Now, knowing that I'm 6'4" and about 220 pounds, that's no easy feat. But, my father picked me up, and even told me to sit on his shoulders, and I happily obliged. I'm sure to anyone walking or driving by that this had to be an awkward sight; a huge, giant of a man sitting on another man's shoulders. But, to me, it reminded me of a childhood that I wish I had; growing up with my father. I laughed and grinned and cheered like the youngest 26 year old ever. I was a kid again!

We stayed in the park for about an hour or so, catching up, singing, and laughing. Suddenly my father said, "Hey, how about we go to your grandmother's house so she can cook you something?" He and I laughed really hard at that notion, because we couldn't immediately think of the last time Grandma Ora actually cooked something. As we started to walk, I looked around and then it hit me. "Dad, we aren't going to walk all the way to Grandma's house, are we?" He laughed and said, "Boy, now I know you think I am the peak of fitness, but if we started walking now, I'm sure we'd get there by next week." I laughed at him and then felt kind of silly, realizing how far she really lived. And then it hit me...

"Dad, we can't go to Grandma's house." He stopped walking and looked really puzzled, thought a bit, and then looked at me quizzically and asked, "Why not?" I looked down at my feet, not really wanting to admit it out loud, but seeing the reality of the situation. "Because she died last year."

He looked at me, somber at first, and then perked up and said, "No, that was just a dream." I looked at him, trying to understand fully what he just said. I know for a fact I was there at Grandma's funeral; I couldn't've dreamt that. I looked around and suddenly, I didn't know where I was. Even though I hadn't been in Chicago in a little while, somehow, we were no longer in my neighborhood, or even close proximity. It almost reminded me a little of...Central Park?

"No, wait...none of this is right...this is all wrong," I said, unknowingly, out loud. My father looked at me as if I was crazy, and asked "What's wrong?"

"All of this," I said. "You, Grandma, Brandon, George...this isn't right." The levees had broken and I could feel the heat as each tear flowed down my face...

And I woke up. I looked at the clock, and it was 4:28am. I looked around, and I was in my room in Jacksonville, in moonlit darkness. And I cried myself back to sleep.

RIP: Cousin George (1983-2005), Grandma Ora (1934-2007) and Dad (1959-2008)

Wassup Y'all. Just an update: my father passed away on July 30, 2008. Currently, I am in Portsmouth, Virginia, emptying out his apartment and reliving old memories... This is an extremely hard time for me, for it is quite taxing to be strong for everyone else. I appreciate all sympathy and patience as I deal with this tragedy. THANKS! Whatever you call me...

Whattup!

So, now is your chance to see how random things can be at work, with me, and with my peoples. Totally unscripted, just picked up the camera and recorded! LOL. Always keep ya camera ready. LOLOLOL. Since it was late, the videos are going to be a little dark. My bad!! It's still funny though.

Randomness, Part I


Randomness Part 2


Randomness Part 3


Randomness Part 4

Whattup?

Yep, ya boy went and got a pedicure. I actually thought pedicures for dudes was kinda gay, but it felt kinda decent, actually...I kinda still think it is kinda "metro", so I probably won't be doing it again anytime soon. At least, not in the sight of cameras. LOL. Check it out...

First Pedicure, Part I


First Pedicure, Part II


First Pedicure, Part III


First Pedicure, Part IV


First Pedicure, Part V