Tag Archives: family business

Today’s Word is… BANKSGIVING

So I was chillin out maxin relaxin all cool one day when I had stumbled upon this tweet:

At first glance I found it to be ridiculous. Charging your own family for Thanksgiving dinner? That’s absurd. Thanksgiving is (about remembering that time Native Americans learned the hard way about trusting white people) about family and togetherness. Reflecting on the year and being grateful for the things and people you have in your life. And then there’s Grandmamauntie, working tirelessly preparing a 6 course Thanksgiving meal for free.99. All she asked was that you showed up and didn’t bring a white woman home. (Kidding, of course… Maybe… Grandmamauntie still has some things she needs to sort out, and she doesn’t believe in therapy. You’ll deal cuz the greens is lit.) Grandmamauntie would never charge a cover for Thanksgiving; she cooks with love. (Don’t show up at people’s houses empty handed tho, have some couth) How would she look charging people on the one day that even the homeless eat for free. I’ve hosted dinners and cookouts and well…..they ain’t cheap, B. Of course I never thought about how much it cost because it’s family and friends and who does that?

But now, We live in an age where people think tweeting a thread is labor and (panhandling) getting paid for it. If that’s the case, then damnit Run. Grandmamauntie. her. coin. #Banksgiving. The game done changed. The price of the brick going up. And you know why? Because we don’t use pre shredded cheddar cheese in the macaroni we want smoked gruyere and gouda you know how much a lb of smoked gouda cost? Then your cousin is vegan this month because she has a vacation coming up, you ain’t get invited but now gotta accommodate. Your uncle’s new girlfriend has a gluten allergy so you can’t have the Hawaiian rolls out. You and her went to school together, she ain’t have no damn allergy. Your sister’s “roommate” packed 2 plates before you learned their name. Then there’s the auntie who is only there to pitch her pyramid scheme. Your other cousin brought a bottle of Svedka but then took the Remy to the face. Him and his friend “took a walk” and now they broke off turkey legs. Your sister hovering around snapchatting all the food like, “get you a me”, she ain’t make nothing. She brought plates. And Grandmamauntie takes it all in stride because she only sees y’all once a year because everyone has a her blocked on Facebook because she keeps sending game invites. You’d pay the 30 just to not have to unblock her.

I’m curious how it would work logistically….do you make an eventbrite link or charge at the door? I gotta text a cousin to get on the VIP list and get white meat? Is there reserved seating? I’m not paying $30 to be at the kids table. Maybe get a wristband. Does Grandmamauntie got a Venmo? Does the $30 allow for to go plates or you gotta eat everything there like at the sushi bar. What if it’s my second stop and I’m not that hungry, can I pay $10 to see everybody? If the stuffing is dry can I get it taken off my order? Are ladies free before 5? Can I get in with jeans and sneakers? I have all the preguntas, for this new world order. Or perhaps even simpler…don’t host Thanksgiving if you can’t afford to host Thanksgiving. Do a potluck. Whatever you do, don’t let pay me for my emotional labor Twitter have you getting exiled from the family.

Happy Thanksgiving.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… WRONG

Been a long time….y’all know the rest.

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Of most of the women I dated, I typically got along with the family members I met. I’m sweet, I’m articulate, I’m awesome all that good stuff. The lone exception was “She” who I just didn’t get along with her sisters at all, and I had my reasons for feeling that way. She would always forgive them, as she should’ve, that’s family. I didn’t have to, they were immature, lazy, manipulative people. Regardless, I loved her, she loved me, and I took care of business. If they couldn’t respect that their whole perspective was wack. Their perspective was wack. Anyway, when the relationship ended, there was probably some validation on their part. Not that anything they thought about me was actually, true, but you know misery loves company. I felt bad about it, she had chose me over them, moved out, and now she was returning home with tail between her legs (although she was 23 and had nothing to be ashamed of, they were 30+ sleeping on twin beds but that ties into the whole manipulation aspect) anyway, as far as appearances went, she was dead wrong about me.

Fast forward to now, in somewhat of an ironic twist. My little sister has all but distanced herself from her family…for her boyfriend. Now tale of the tape, I was at least a college student, working 2 jobs with my own apartment, this dude is just a bum. Won’t delve too much into family business, but the point is she can do much better and no one is really shy about telling her that. Given my recent history, I’ve stayed neutral because pushing her away would only push her closer to him. She’s adopted a “us against the world” mentality which again, would be acceptable if perhaps my sisters were miserable and lonely, didn’t have much going for them and then I can see where the lack of credibility would factor. In this case, my sister just can’t bring herself to admit that maybe she whiffed on this one, that she’s going to eventually stomach the humble pie that comes from another failed relationship, that even with her best efforts, she was simply wrong.

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As I’ve said before, you’re born into your family, your friends sprout from your environment, who you choose to love…that’s on you. Breakups will humble your ass whether you’re the dumper or dumpee. We enter relationships hoping it’s the last one and with each ex, another failure. I have quite a few of them then you count boos, dates, women I just fell for…..I really, really suck at this. There’s women I held on to too long for that reason, I couldn’t be wrong again, challenge the play, recount, appeal. I can assume the same could be said about me. Relationships are the penultimate investment of time, energy, emotions…official or not, you’re giving investing in this person and waiting for a pay out. Sometimes it pays off, sometimes you just give up and walk away and hope that you didn’t give up too much. It’s still prolonging the inevitable, I know couples who went through ups and downs and came out closer, I know men and women still broken from picking the wrong one.

Taking it back to my sister, Hurricane Fuckboy has severed her relationships with 2 sisters, a handful of friends, cpst a job, 2 places to stay, a cousin, probably thousands of dollars and just sucking every bit of respect from anyone close to her. She’s invested so much in this man, she can walk away and try to repair the damage or just keep going all in and hope that this is really the man God picked for her. (Spoiler alert: he isn’t.) She looks at him as the only constant in her life when in reality he’s the variable in everything that has gone wrong. With “She”, we cost ourselves time and had to suffer the embarrassment that comes with every failed relationship. We got up, brushed ourselves off and kept looking, and I don’t know about her but I’m struggling like Ciara doing Mariah covers. I can only hope my sister eventually sees the light and when she does it’s not when even bridge has been burned or he really shows his colors. but I’m pretty sure that’s when I’d really have to step in and deliver fade But in the meantime, it’s them against the world…or something.

-Stan-

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Filed under Dating, La Familia, Love, Relationships

Today’s Word is… POPS

So I’m randomly chatting to this woman, cute smile, sense of humor, whathaveyou. We’re give brief bios when she mentions she has kids and waited for the look of defeat in my eyes.  I proceeded to make normal conversation, much to her surprise.  She thinks maybe I misheard her, so she attacks from a new angle explaining how hard it is to date as a parent and went on saying things you really don’t say to a guy you just met.  Going back to the parenting/dating conundrum, she said she struggles to meet guys who can get past her children, I countered she seems to place them in the way.  I went on to say that there’s two sides to a mother, the parent and the woman, and sometimes she and suitors never focus on the woman.  And like that shields was down, but that’s a different post entirely. 

Anywho, I was reading another blog on what makes a good father. Now I have no lil Stans running around so I couldn’t relate on that level, so I thought what makes my father a good father.  I couldn’t help but think about that conversation with the woman before and my theory on the two sides of a parent.  If you’ve read long enough you’d know my relationship with my father is unique, he was always  provider, care taker and disciplinarian but as a man, I hardly knew ye.  I know I can call him for anything, I know he proudly served his country and worked to give me everything I covet. But his favorite color? I don’t know…blue?  Actually I think it is blue.  Whatever.

What I did learn about him, came from my mother and loose lipped relatives.  My father was the king of compartmentalization.  He never let us see his struggles as a man.  He quit drinking and smoking shortly after I was born. He’ll play 5 basketball games in a row and never let me know he’s sore (though I would be dude plays defense like a Bad Boy Piston). He’s not rich but you could never say he was broke. It goes without saying he wasn’t perfect, but he’d be damned to let me or any of my siblings know his flaws.  He was Superman.  

These days he’s hung up his cape, and it’s still awkward to see him as Clark Kent.  Instead of telling what’s what, he just gives his perspective and leaves it to our own interpretation.  Talks went from “wear a condom” to “are you sure you’re in love with this woman”.  I never heard him complain about work, I never heard him gush over my brother’s mother the way he does his new fiancee.  Perhaps, it simply takes a man to know a man. 

It makes sense now, but it hadn’t always.  My sisters were spoiled, my older brothers were equals, my little brothers were babies, I was just….me.  I saw our relationship for what it wasn’t rather than what it was.  As gifted as I was I was still a child, and a child was kept in a child’s place.  Could he had did some things differently? Of course. Could I had made life easier? Indeed. With that understanding and the lessons learned, we’re able to move forward in the next phase of the father/son dynamic. So this Father’s Day especially I take time to reflect on the father I have and the father I hope to be one day, Superman with a bit more tact, the great parent and just as great man.

Happy Father’s Day.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… OBLIGATION

Little sisters have humbled many a men.  Like a daughter, it’s the girl you must protect and look after well into her journey into adulthood.  She will date that guy just like you that you hate because, well, he’s just like you.  You will become a hypocrite as you try to stop her from things that you look for in other women.  Unlike a daughter, she will know YOU, the real unabridged version of you.  She was there when you cried at Lion King, she knows the girl you called Wednesday night isn’t the one you’re on the phone with Thursday.  My little sister that much worse, not only did she tag along around my way but she attended every school I attended (except college I would’ve burned her acceptance letter, kidding, I would’ve just ripped it up). 

My aunt is my father’s little sister.  Not far in age, she’s the thorn in my father’s side that my sister is in mine.  Now my father, like me, is very private (dude you have a blog, look I don’t need that now).  My father never speaks about his life. His autobiography, he went to school, joined the army, met my mother, and the stork brought us all.  My aunt knows the real story.  She would often tell them to me primarily because she sees him in me.  Not always a compliment.  So usually at a gathering, after a few drinks she will dig deep into her archives and tell a story about my father that he would literally run from Raleigh to Boston and karate kick her out the chair to stop her from telling. 

The story involved my oldest brother’s mother, who my father was with before he met my mother.  He never spoke much of her, it was assumed they were never an item, she got pregnant he stepped up.  “That’s what you’re SUPPOSED to do” said Chris Rock.  What really happened was that in spite of not being an item, my father didn’t just step up as a parent, he was ready to marry her.  It was my aunt and my grandmother who talked him off the ledge. “He didn’t love her, you can’t build anything off obligation”

Taking it back a few months prior, me and “Her” are talking.  She had made a joke about a kid, and it set in, we would have a toddler right now.  Now the pregnancy was a topic we both tried to avoid, we made our positions known and had done our best to move on.  But of course, I’m hardheaded peeked into Pandora’s box and asked her, why didn’t she even reach out to me.  Her response, “I know you, you would’ve made it work and I wanted to be chose the right way not out of obligation”.  Now granted unlike my father, I did have feelings for “Her”, but she could never believe me anymore.  The cliche of “trapping a man” comes in, while I truly hate that notion and certainly know her better than that, would I ever truly believe her? Years later, no child, we decided to never take it beyond friendship, maybe we were both right. 

My father’s story also struck a chord because of what happened after my mother.  He tried hard to make it work with my little brother’s mother but again begged the question was it out of love or obligation.  I hear him gush over his current fiance now and it’s clear it was the former.  I could see he was in love with my mother, I can see he’s in love now.  With his ex, I saw a man trying to make the most of a situation.  That’s just the type of man he is.  Is that the type of man, I am?

-Stan-   

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