Humpday jamz ii c/o “the sum of us”
November 16th, 2011
all together. no us. no them. all.
“if you want to fight the power get the power to fight.”
This is about:
Humpday jamz c/o “beautiful skin”
October 26th, 2011
“sometimes ya’ll disrespect yo-self cuz you dont know who you are in the first place. you gotta have some game or you wont even be able to take care of yourself.”
This is about:
For my uncle bob.
September 27th, 2011
Because he died today of cancer, my mother’s brother. And like those who don’t ever know what to say on days like this, I will just say, he will be missed. But what I will remember most is an easy, instant answer: His Stuart Plaid.
I never did the math, but I’d bet his ratio of clothing with Stuart Plaid to clothing without would clock in at about three to one. The man loved Stuart Plaid. His last name, Stuart, my middle name, living on in Scottish heritage. On just about everything that could be manufactured with a plaid on it. Golf bags, coffee mugs, toothbrushes, I never saw proof, but I’m sure a few pair of boxers sported the red, black and green plaid under a pair of bermudas that were also that same plaid. Plaid socks, pulled to his knees. Stuart Plaid toothpicks. Okay. Toothpicks, maybe not, but Uncle Bob did love the shit out of some Stuart Plaid.
And because I haven’t spoken to him in months, maybe even years, and the cancer took him so quickly, not even a year diagnosed and treatment seeming futile, I like that in his passing, I can find a moment of solace knowing I will wear Uncle Bob’s plaid forever. Tattooed in homage on my skin. A kilt on a Care Bear Lion. Freedom and a Brave Heart, words I’ve begun to live by, their meaning coming way after the ink and the pain. Kinda like today, when my plaid finds a new layer of definition, now a permanent memory of my uncle. My Uncle Bob.
