Can't sleep

What does one do when they can't fall asleep? No need to drink alcohol, that could be a lifelong problem. There is nobody to call when one is up at three or four in the morning. Television is a waste, there is nothing on. Personally the best I can hope for is a good CD, or one that touches my soul on that particular night. Tonight I'm not having any luck with that either. R. Kelly won't help me fall asleep, nor will Jamiroquia, or Diana Krall.
I've been laying in bed since at least 11 o'clock. Tried every sleeping position, did the regular "r u up" text, and all things in-between. Yes I tried prayer as well, to no avail. This happens to me atleast once a week. I'm closer to the Lord now than I have ever been, and more in tune with myself than I have ever been. I know I'm depressed, but I feel as though the Lord is holding back something from me, or I'm not seeing what he is trying to tell me, and I won't be able to have a good night's rest again until I figure it out.
Can anybody out there tell me how to pray properly. How can I get that direct line to Jesus, so that I can be first on the list when I pray. If somebody out there in the blog world can forward me the format on how to pray properly I will happily accept it. Just e-mail me here and I will take your advice. Because being lonely is not a feeling I enjoy having.

Trust What?

I think you people don't understand what I'm trying to do here. So with that in mind, I'm always trying to simplify all of my arguments. You know, writing for those of you who can recite all of Biggies' rhymes, but can't the Homer. **If you think I mean the simpsons, please close your broser and head directly to your local library**

Today's discussion is simple. The Mac man has noticed there are two kinds of trust in the world. Type A is the traditional meaning of the word trust. Where someboday has your back, if they give you their word they will do an act, they do it. That person who you feel comfortable with, that tries to make you happy and looks out for your best interest as well as their own. We all got one of those friends, where if you really need something important, and if you need to keep it quiet, that first person you think of.

Type B is that person who you can trust to be exactly who they are. You know the kind of person I mean. That person who you know will get drunk and belligerent everytime you go out. Or that person who will always be late, overdressed, or moody. Somedays that person may be accountable and your dog, there for you in a pinch. However on most days they do the same things that they have always done, and won't really be of any service to you.

My question is, which of these people, person A or person B is better to have around. It's true, everybody wants a friend like person A, that person who really has your back when you are at your lowest point. But, when that person fails you, when you put all of your trust in them, and they let you down, the kind of pain that one feels in intolerable. Because to build that trust with person A, the really have that deep down trust, you have to give up part of yourself, must be vulnerable to that person occasionally. For, isn't that when trust is built, when one is down and out?

Yet person B, although they may never have your back when you need it, they will more than likely never let you down. You don't put as much faith in that person. More than likely, you don't even ask them to do anything outside of their character unless person A is out of town. Isn't the best kind of friend the one who will never let you down?

What kind of trust are you looking for? The kind where you can never get hurt, or the kind where you have to extend yourself into that uncomfortable range, inevitably to be let down?

Growing up

Hey world, it's the Mac man again. I couldn't sleep tonight, and needed to come up with something to do instead of laying in the bed, so I decided to write to the world. Figured it's best to write about what's bothering me. Or rather about one of the many things thats bothering me.

What is it about growing up that makes things change? More than just the physical changes that happen, the beards, muscle growth, the changing shapes. More than just the responsibility, rent, utilities, school, developing a career. The thing thats bothering me now is part my fault, and part of why life is so unfair. Something I may have initiated, but definitely something that I can't control, nor can anybody.

At this point in my life my friends can basically be divided into two categories, the have's, and the have nots. Nothing to do w/ money, or status, or careers, or potential. What seperates these two groups is the presence of love. My friends who have that love, a person who they can trust, depends on, and who loves them back are so much more stable. When the Mac man talks to them they are so blessed, so happy. It's like they have learned how to let the little things go, how to cherish certain things.

Mac man took his show on the road last weekend to NYC to meet up with the other author and co-creator of this site, the homie mudbone. Readers we all know that Mudbone is married, but this weekend he was without wife. Hanging with the homie is always good, but you can definitely see a difference. Arguments w/ Mrs. Mudbone don't cause him much strife, he knows he will make it through. He can rest easy at night, Mudbone is so much calmer now, he talked about him and the wife working as a team, accomplishing things together that he could never get alone. I have never seen him so happy.

Leaving NYC on Friday, I called up the LB Ice Storm. Mac man and Ice storm talk every weekend, it's a tradition, we have been doing it for years now. Ice storm is quite the strange brother. Like myself he has always been single, and like he Mac Man he goes through mood swings. I heard it when he answered the phone. Ice storm seemed mad that I had went to visit Mudbone, he has always been jealous of him, comparing our relationships, then he further went on to attack the Mac Man, called me a video game playing, drunkard, lazy jiggalo. Please believe world Mac man does not stand for that. I just chose to politely hang up, I don't even own a video game system, and the claims of my infidelity are false, of the women he named, the Mac man only had relations with one (at least in the time frame he named).

The stories of Ice Storm and Mudbone are just background for the point I'm really trying to make. When I call my friends, the one thing that I'm more jealous of than anything is love. Big bad wolf, kevlar, ice trey, James Jr., Ms. 1der4L, reverend, all of my friends who I am close with have that special someone in their lives. Don't get me wrong, the Mac man has tried, but it just doesn't seem to be in the cards for a legend. There have been ones who told me they wanted to love me, but I definitely could never love them. There are those who I have told I love, but they can't find it in their hearts to feel the same way.

When I think of my friends who are without love, I realize those aern't the people who I want to be like. Ice Storm, Bodyguard, Box frame, Big man, people who I would never want to step in their shoes. I'm jealous, how do you take it when the one you love doesn't love you back. Yes, this one likes me, but she don't love the Mac man. Somedays I think she will, seems as though we are moving forward, and others it seems like a waste of my time.

Tonight for example, Mac sexxy (the other name for yours truly) couldn't sleep, and I called up girl number one. Well, as always she talked about herself for hours. But, the new twist is that she did ask about me this time, and how I was feeling. However, old habits die hard, as soon as I tried to open up, to do as she asked, she got sleepy again. What's the point? She wants me to communicate, but when I open up to her she tells me too bad, this is how she is, take it or leave it. If I don't communicate, I can't win because she tells me I'm not trying.

So the Mac man is at a crossroads. I could settle for somebody who loves me, or can love me, but live in eternal unhappiness. Or, stay with the person who I care for, but has no desire to look outside of herself and make me happy. I want love, better yet I want to be in love. But, it seems like just another night I will go be at home sad and lonely.

Easy Come, Easy go...

Over the years I have developed a lot of close relationships, and over the years I have lost just as many, most times the same people. So I want to take the time now to analyze what's going on, as I have come to the realization that it probably is me. Let's begin with how I develop these new relationships.

In all reality, the Mac man is a very shy person. I try to avoid large groups, and don't speak up when in the presence of a crowd, unless I'm intimately acquainted with those in the group. Don't get me wrong, the Mac man is not anti-social, nor am I a complete introvert. Rather, it's more like a defense mechanism I developed over the years to buffer my stinging sarcasm. You see, when the Mac man opens his mouth, the truth will come out, good or bad. But, when first meeting somebody that can really turn them off. Since I don't know how to have a conversation without sarcasm, I've just learned how to not have conversation.

Those around me notice that I don't speak, and when they engage me in one-on-one conversation, they find that I am quite an intellectual Black man, with lots of opinions, and knowledge on a vast array of topics (that's what happens when you read people, you become knowledgeable). They begin to notice my maturity level, and self-discipline, and it attracts lots of women towards me (albeit temporarily). But like all first encounters I, just like others, remain very guarded, and monitor closely what I say.

Problem being, months down the road, these people (females especially) realize that I am still just as guarded on day 1 as I am at year one. It's tough to really evolve in a friendship/relationship if the person won't open up. Couple that to my relentless sarcasm/pessimism, and I can be a tough person to deal with.

But, my question is why can nobody see through it? Why do people whom I begin to let near and close to me (although they don't know it) just go running away? Normally there is no warning, no signs, just an abrupt departure from my life. It's killing me on the inside, each loss gets harder and harder, each cycle makes it harder for me to open up to the next person. Yet, I don't know what to do. It's easy to say don't be so sarcastic, but that's who I am, sarcasm is what makes me . Yeah, I'm pessimistic, but I feel as though I have a right, because I do my best to make things better. I run health care forums, coach a little league baseball team, mentor those younger than me, and try to do the best in whatever I do. I'll help anybody who wants to help themselves.

The more I try to turn into a recluse, the more I want somebody close to me to share my feelings with. I can't turn to my friends for help, not only are we all busy, and in different parts of the world, but the majority of my friends have intimate relationships that they are happy with. So, it leaves me alone, with lots of time to think. Sure I could date all day long, I don't have a problem finding a date, but I do have problems finding somebody compatible. I just need some inspiration, something to give me hope that I can make it through this storm.

I drink Starbucks

That's right, the Mac Man is a boogie Negro. I drink Starbucks, I think the movies are a waste of time, and to me a real date requires me to dress up and go to a theatre, not a cinema. Yes, I know how to play golf, take score, talk the lingo, and even the proper golf etiquette and attire. I am particular about fast food restaurants that I eat in. If there isn't at least one cracker working, then I won't eat there, because I know the order will be wrong and it will take forever to get. I rarely wear gym shoes anymore (yes, I'm from the Midwest, we say gym shoes DAMNIT!), and I refuse to do a whole list of other ignorant things.

I'm the kind of young man Bill Cosby is looking for. But don't judge me just by that. Think about what Steve Harvey said in the "Kings of Comedy". He said, "Don't let the TV show and all the nice suits fool ya, I'm from the PROJECTS, I can act PROJECT-ISH with ya". I'm still a black man at heart, but I just had to make certain adjustments to acculturate myself to this medical environment.

I started drinking Starbucks years ago, my sister worked in Dunkin' D, and once she told me the behind the scenes action there, I started easing off that. Hell, being a golf caddy at 13 was good money. It was $50 or more per day, tax free. Then here is where my negrovention came in. Trying to hustle and scheme to make more money, I realized the other caddies who could play a little, and have an understanding of the game could have a better conversation with the golfer. For those who don't know, being a golf caddy is all about running your mouth piece. You have 3 or more hours to make somebody love ya. So, I picked up golf, next thing you know, my average pay increased.

As far as operas, musicals, and plays, heck my great Aunt put me on to that. She was directly from the South, didn't even pass go. She took me to those as a little boy, now don't get me wrong, she took me to the movies as well. But there is just something to dressing up, putting on a shirt, tie, jacket and going somewhere fancy. Where the music fills up the room, and it's more than just things blowing up and 2 or more people having sex at once. The movies are a waste, $10/person, and you still aren't guaranteed that it will be good. The show is 2-dimensional, and almost always predictable.

Now for you cat's who wanna say I'm no longer black because I do the above things, let me clarify something for you. No matter what one does, or where he goes, if you got one drop in you, then you are still black. I can't stand crackers, I tend not to go any places where they congregate. I'm at the point in my life now, where when they start talking I must leave the room, because all it takes is one wrong word from them, and I'm ready to go postal.

Better yet, how does one even justify being black? Yes, I listen to more than G-unit, but rap is still my favorite. I've got some techno and rock & roll' in the changer. Don't be mad at me because I expanded. If we don't open up our minds and try some of everything out there, we will stay stagnant exactly where we are now.

stop snitchin' stop lyin'

Sorry I've been gone world, but for the last few weeks I have been working a temporary job. That's right, ya boy, the militant Malcom Mac signed up a a temporary staffing agency, to fill the void of being broke before school starts back up. It's not so bad, the pay was decent, and it comes every week, without that delay of a week that normal jobs have.

But, that's not what I'm hear to talk about. One day the boss and I were riding to Burger King for lunch, and he said something that just floored me. Now mind you, for this time I had been there 3 or 4 days already, and was already sick of the place. Another important fact, the Mac man could care less about these odds and ends jobs. I just do them to make the ends meet when I hit some rough times. *Number one rule for the Mac man when working a temp job is, NEVER ASK A WHY QUESTION!* WTF does it matter to me? So long as I will be safe doing it, and won't have to swallow my pride, I can do any job, I could care less. Not only does the boss not really want to explain why, but I really just don't care.

Now, boss man must have taken this as a good thing. He tells me in the car, "You know, I asked for you back specifically because you get the work done, and don't ask lots of questions that make it seem like you disagree with what I am saying, or questioning why I am doing things. By the time it gets down to your level, I have had so many discussions w/ the bosses, that what you think or say really won't change anything, instead it will just cause hard feelings."

At first, I took this like a compliment. Hell, he wasn't lying on me, I didn't ask a question cause I could give a damn. Hell for the first 3 days I didn't even know what the company did, all I know is that the job paid. Everyone likes to be hailed as a model employee, and I am no different. But as the day went on, I started thinking what he did was a sneaky maneuver to keep me quite. It's like Pavlovian training (Pavlov's dog for those who don't know what I'm talking about). Reward one for not asking questions, and they will continue to do the same. I'm not stupid, I want to reserve the right to ask whatever question I feel like when I feel like it. Tell me I'm a good employee because I'm productive, not because I don't bother you. Rewarding people for not talking will only cause problems in the long run.

Case in point, Busta Rhymes. In order to maintain his "street cred" he cannot be called a snitch. Well, he may have witnessed a murder, but if he tells the cops, then he is a snitch, and snitches don't sell records, and therefore he won't get paid, and hell just be a broke dude w/ a horrible acting career and a bunch of expensive chains (think Mr. T here). So don't snitch, go platinum, keep your street cred as never working with the cops, but let your homie die in vain.

I've lost my point here. But it was something like, was the boss telling me I'm a productive worker who didn't talk to keep me quiet, or to promote me becoming a dumb assembly line manufacturing idiot? Either way I ain't taking that. Where's my rifle?

Brotherhood Smoke

As has become ritual, after the last exam per every block, me and the homie Kevlar take a trip to the cigar bar, where we get a stogie and a drink, then proceed to decompress from another exam. Normally it's just me and the homie, but occasionally we will bring in others, just for a little variety. Well, we had to postpone the smoke after the last exam, and yesterday Kevlar had his last exam for the summer so of course we went to my favorite, cigar masters.

I'm not a big cigar fan, but I just love the ambiance of smoking, the calming factor of it, and the chill spots that are cigar bars. There is no Yin Yang twins blasting in the background, or Lil' Jon, ludicrous, or DMX. Instead one may hear Miles Davis, James Brown, some light jazz...basically the kind of music I like, something worth listening to. Not to mention the crowd in these bars are just so much older, so much more mature, so much more open. Everything I go I meet somebody new, and tend to have excellent conversations. Hell, often times these people pick up my tab, or at least portions of it when they find out the Mac Man is in medical school.

Now that you have the background, let's get into the meat of the story. Monday, Killer and myself went to the cigar bar. He didn't tell me, but he brought along 2 more people, the homies Blake and Aixa (*warning, I just butchered up that name*) Now, recently at cigar masters the waitresses have not been very attractive, but that Monday was a pleasant exception, both waitresses were banging, and showing off everything the Lord gave them. So we made a rash decision and chose to sit at the bar, so we could just state at them all day.

At the bar, I, the Mac Man, ended up sharing an ash tray with this middle aged white fellow, and so we began talking. First we talked about the cubs, the beauty of the waitresses, why we smoke cigars, just some light-hearted convo. Well, then my favorite couches at the window opened up, and we had to go, so the crew and I invited the cracker with us. By now we are a good 3 beers into our trip, so conversation is flowing. Imagine if u will, 3 black men, ages 21, 23, and 25, a Filipino girl aged 29, and this white man about 45. He asked what we do, we told him 3 of the 4 of us are in medical school, the other girl works. A surprise to me, he didn't seem taken aback by that, most people tend not to believe we could be medical students, especially when we don't talk like nerds about science all day (don't think we can't....we just chose not to). This was followed by the regular question, "do you know what you wanna specialize in?" After going around the table discussing that, the convo moves on to psychiatric care, prescribing medicines and the like.

Come to find out the man's son has a psychiatric problem, and the physician prescribes his son SSRI's (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors) which only caused the child more problems that we will not get into here. After discussing these things, we get into talking about politics and gay marriage. The guy says his ex-wife left him because she switched to the other side of the plate without warning. That conversation goes on for a while. Next we talk about the problems in the middle east, focusing on the racial wars, and Condi Rice. Followed by our opinions on Bush, and who may run for president in the 2008 election. Even mixed in there was a long conversation on inter-racial dating, where he shared he has dated black women before, and the problems he had to confront in doing that.

Finally we finish our 4 beers a piece (we were all buzzed) and begging to say our parting shots. That's when he said something that I took as a compliment then, but now am not so sure. Whitey said, "how refreshing it is to talk to young people who are so intellectual, well versed in a number of subjects, articulate, have something going for themselves, and don't have their pants hanging off their asses." Was that hidden racism? At first I took it as an ego boost, I know that I'm more intellectual than the average 23 year old, and have accepted I don't talk like them long ago. However, this man's jab seemed to be, in hindsight, more of a Negroes that can read, write, and speak....wow, yall should be in a museum, kinda comment. Plus I understand how the average middle aged hunkey has a dislike/distrust of this generation X, that we just a lost generation, so I do expect that to show.

My question is that if you have a forthright convo with a cracker about race, religion, and everything else does this mean they should be giving an overlook if they say something with a racist undertone? I mean, I didn't get any inclination that the guy was a Klansman, and although I assume every cracker is racist, I thought this one was better than most. But now I can't shake that comment. Was he implying Negroes don't come of an intellectual breed, except for Cornell West and Bill Clinton? Or was he saying that for our age we are all well beyond what he imagined our peers should be at?

Now, since I only have one loyal reader, Mudbone, I am waiting on your response. Anybody else out there who lives in our cyber Renner Hall, please feel free to comment. I need some help, racist or not racist?

Hidden Racism

So here's the set-up. Saturday night, the Mac man and one of his boys had just stopped at the local McDonald around midnight before we headed out to the next bar. It's just a little before midnight, and this McDonald is in the center of a college campus. No, not a residential campus either, a commuter campus, a city campus rather. Something similar to NYU for my New York people, or UIC for my Midwest people. Now, you know the Mac man is in Boston, a white city, on a college campus.

Mac grabs his burger and fries, and gets a seat near the window, because I must see who is coming in and out at all times, in case I need to start running. Well, here comes a policeman with his sirens blasting, flying down the road, and pulls up right in front of the window. **Although I knew I didn't do anything wrong, and he was outside while I was inside, yes I did immediately sit up straight, and check to make sure I had my walled (w/ license) in my pocket. I don't trust the man**

So, the cracker cop pulls up, and starts kicking at the wall. The Mac and his boy are thinking WTH, what am I missing here? He kicks at the wall for a while, and then he pulls out his flashlight, points it at the wall, and keeps kicking it. After about 5 or 6 minutes of kicking suddenly the wall stands up, and I realize it's a person he's kicking and not the wall. **@ this point I realized this person had to be white cause there is still only one cracker here. Black men never get just one cop, we get a minimum of two** So this BUD (hospital talk for BU Drunk) kid stands up, and he is struggling. Remember those old Michael Jackson videos, how they leaned so far but their feet never move? Well, that's what this kid looks like, he was way past drunk. **Ok, last aside, but....Where in the hell were his boys at? They just left his ass drunk on the corner in front of a McDonald?**

Now this cop begins to have a conversation with the kid, except the kid is drunk and he never says anything back, he just kind of stands and stares, finally leaning on the wall once he realizes he can't stand on his own power. Cracker cop talks to this kid another 10 minutes to no avail. Finally, he reaches in the kid's back pocket, and pulls out his wallet. Then, he goes through the license, checks for his name, and ask him more questions. BUD still doesn't answer, instead he leans on the wall, clearly past his limit w/ no concept of what is going on. Another 5 minutes goes by, and realize here, that this is still just the one cop and BUD, still no back-up, and at least twenty minutes have elapsed.

All the while my boy and I are saying, they gotta put his ass in jail to sober him up. Or at least put him in the squad car and drop him off at home. Never though, the cop keeps on talking to him. Finally, once myself, Malcom Mac, and my boy finished our meal, here comes another squad car running down the street. However, let's just say we took our time watching this unfold, because Mac man loves to see one cracker put another cracker in jail. Yet there was still no resolution.

Black people, let's just take a short internet poll here. Would they have: put us in jail, gave us a ride home, or called us a cab? Hell, would we have been there that long with just one cop? I felt abused and I wasn't even involved in the incident.