Showing posts with label key tickling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label key tickling. Show all posts

Monday, October 18, 2010

Nice guys: a revisiting pt. 1

Waaaay back in January I wrote a blog This one now in that blog I did my little lament about why it sucks being a nice guy. And it still does, trust me it really does. Then a few weeks ago a friend @tracyreneejones wrote an article on the blog IoM&R (which is one of my favorites by the way, I love the various topics from political commentary to social issues in the various minority communities, it's run by the always passionate @rippdemup a fellow memphian and good online buddy) which struck a few cords for a multitude of reasons, it was about abusive black men and how they treat black women now as I am wont to do, I mentioned a few disagreements I had with some of the premises in the blog. And as usual I got some of what is a typical mistreated females response, one of which is untrue. I know exactly how it feels to be harassed when walking down a hallway getting unwanted attention from people you either barely know or really don't feel like interacting with.

Little thing about thinking ONLY you have had a hard life, you don't realize when you are pissing in someone else's face. Now this would be a great time for an anecdote about how and why I completely understand how the women feel sometimes, thing is I don't feel like sharing it. See part of the reason I am so patient, compassionate and comforting is because I understand, that leaves us a little problem though. If your entire stance towards me is that you should be as aggressive as possible because I won't see the stupidity of some people, that I will not understand the pain of being verbally accosted, physically assaulted, and preyed upon by groups of people you have done nothing to. Then when I try to explain to you a solution all you are going to do is treat me like something you stepped in. Which will bring out the less than nice side of me, again being nice is a choice, a hard life choice because if you look around at the world "nice guys" don't last that long. This isn't marvel or dc. There are no super heroes, when you come to the rescue people rarely remember that past you pulling their buns out the fire. So if you push Mr. nice, Mr. Compassionate, Mr. Professional one time too many the guy who has been pushed many times through out his life, spit on, and belittled wakes up.

People don't just target you for teasing because you are of the opposite sex. They don't just target you for aggressive interaction if they find you attractive. They target anyone they feel is weak or vulnerable. Now yes WOMEN for the most part have that stereotype stamped on them at birth, but if you are shorter, skinnier, fatter, taller, you have a slightly abnormal feature well away we go. Though we lie to ourselves (and our children) when we get older about how the world is, and what it takes to get along in this world, the truth that would set us free is pounded into our heads on a regular basis. Ladies and gentleman "Bullying" the new hot political topic of this cycle isn't new, women being treated as sexual objects, nor intelligent people being ridiculed, nor attractive people being thought of as air heads. Sexual orientation, non existent,  high or hyper sexual desires, quirks, eccentricities, abnormalities you name it the world has seen it before.

The issue is, because we like to pretend that it USED to be so great, we fail to fix the problems we already know are there. As I said it sucks being a nice guy because when you try to NICELY inform people of a better way to do something, you are going to get attacked. Then as you try and civilly maintain a discourse with them of course as they THINK they see weakness they pounce. And when they pounce just like anything else in nature if they were not correct in their assessment of the situation they leave themselves open, and survival of the fittest demands you attack this unprepared soul.

I like being a nice guy because I think it makes my mother proud, I think when my aunts and cousins see me they think wow thats a pretty good guy we are related to. Now no they don't know everything about me, they aren't privy to my love of large reared women, or pornography(or at least I hope my mom isn't that would be creepy), erotic literature, how deep the depths of my curiosity goes, or how cold I can be. So the "my mother/other matriarchal figure thinks I'm blank" defense is not to about be used. Now I personally think I am a guy they would be proud to meet in the streets some where. While not physically with me now, I would like to hope my wife thinks back to our many years together and says "while he has his faults, my husband tried to be the best man he could no matter how hard the situation". Would be a great time to mention how proud my dad is of me, but in truth we butt heads more often then we heap praises on each other. I think we have the stereotypical male relationship I love him, he loves me but you know what that dude right there pisses me off(I am speaking as both of us right now I'm sure I piss him off with the way I try to weigh all sides and approach a problem with different angles being discussed before hand. And I so LOOOOVE the way he just looks at a problem says what he thinks will work and walks away.) and he needs to remember who I am.

I would like to think that while when we were all together and still developing into the people we would become that those who went to high school with me saw a young man who wished to give more to the people around him than he wanted to destroy or take. My harsh tongue was developed under their unyielding tutelage, my thick skin tanned to perfection by their dislike of the weakness they saw in my heart because I wanted to be me and not just like them. And that me was someone who could be your friend even if it wasn't popular, who could work together with you even if socially we didn't get along, and could speak with you civilly even if just moments before harsh words had been exchanged if the current moment required cooperation and concentration. Thing is, for now that is not normal oh no! If I don't like you then every second I am around you I'm supposed to make it my SOLE FOCUS to make your life miserable and make people take sides. I'm supposed to be irresponsible with my actions, unthinking with my interaction and ignorant of my responsibilities to the group and situation I may be involved in. Hey I've got a rectum like anyone else and if it is feces or mud slinging time trust me I have nice sized hands we can get the party started(you would not believe how much mental yoga it took to create that statement without an expletive slipping out, and I've been drinkin how ya like me now).

I was the lone wolf when younger, the cub moved from his pack to be added into a new one, surrounded by those who's initiation rituals he had not been privy too, who's defining moments he had not be there for. Who's hierarchies he did not yet know, armed only with a "be nice to people" and "treat people how you want to be treated" mentality I walked into the lions den with no armor on. I mean we're all kids right? It's supposed to be fun and games and learning right? Why do I need armor, I'm gonna come in here and get to know everybody and we'll probably become friends or at least most of us will.

Except you don't get that same love of just walking in the door to warm faces when they have no clue who you are. They don't know your mom makes the bomb peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, or that she makes those gooey chocolate chip cookies from scratch that you love and SOMETIMES will be willing to share(what I love chocolate chip cookies so eat me). That you had some nice toys you would love to share with them, well but you guys live sooo far away and I can't walk to your house(YET) and my parents get home so late from work in this commuter society. So for the longest my classmates were not my neighbors and as such I stayed the perennial outsider far longer than was normal. Oh I did make some friends, but I made far more tormentors kids can be cruel and I learned that early, my big hearted tail who's eyes would gush at any moment because I could feel someone else's pain(I still remember my SNAPPING turtle who I was crying because it bit my finger but bawled louder when my cousin shot the poor turtle for biting me) was not ready for those who just saw my friendliness as something to be exploited.

Okay that's a SEMI anecdote, wasn't planning on it but the sake' had other ideas. Anyway as I come forward in life I realize okay no people really DON'T treat people how they want to be treat, and they aren't really nice. But you know what I kind of like it, yes I earned plenty of scars, welts and bruises trying to be THAT guy, you know the one willing to swim against the current because well IT'S GOING SO FAST BECAUSE OF THE WATERFALL, or it's going so fast because nobody has stopped to look where we are going, it's they are going that way and well I guess we should be going that way. Well most of the time I didn't want to go that way, things people were scared to admit they liked, you know what you don't like me no damn way and I do like that. "Nah that ain cool to me, no I don't want to try, sure I can help you carry it, but nope no thanks I don't need it."

Another thing, maybe you don't have anything that I want or else don't have what the service I provided you with is worth meh let me go on because I really did get more out of it than you did. I did something nice and have the memory of it, BUT YOU have this lasting memory of that scrawny, stocky, tubby chocolate kid who helped you out for no reason at all. And it will probably be stuck in your head for a minute, or maybe you scream SUCKAAAAAAH the second you think I'm out of earshot(which is a lot farther than you think) and feel you got over, only to not have anybody to help you take it back when you get done and thus have that lasting feeling of damn I wish somebody else was as nice as that guy. I've got a LOUSY memory, but it gets better the further out from the incident we go(yup weird like that I know) but leaving a good impression means by the time I do remember it, most likely in your mind the grace with which I acted will be exaggerated and I'll seem even nicer than I really am.

There's still this thing though, I am the guy who took all those lumps to get here, which means I probably have a chip or two stuck to my shoulder pounded in over the years for not being exactly like the pride after leaving the pack. It also means that I have more than one pattern by which I can attack you OR the problem. And again, who respects a nice guy huh, yup nobody which means if I have made it this far I must not have a problem getting dirty when the need arises. Hell getting dirty I must not have a problem increasing the depth of the pit. Remember I'm the odd one out here, I'm the respectful one to start, I'm the one NOT going along with everyone else which also means I'm the first target. To stand out is to stand alone until you find others with similarities to you and the go along to get along or else not be the target folks are many, they strike quickly as not to have their loyalties doubted, and they strike hard because otherwise they may be seen as becoming weak and thus a target to be whipped back into shape by the herd they are a part of.

I plopped a part one on the back of this, I think I'm gonna stop here and come back on a different post to finish. editing time woohoo

Friday, October 15, 2010

What is it about me lately

Every time and I do mean EVERY time for the last year and a half that I have said okay I am going to start blogging more, make an actual blog saying I am gonna blog more. Make a plan to blog more hell actually go out and do things to blog about. Do I get home, play a few browser games(look at my blogger dashboard), maybe go plop in front of the TV or Gaming system(come back look at my blogger dashboard), bring up a browser window to view porn(and while it is queing up look at my blogger dashboard), even just sit in my chair and veg(like I was doing for a good portion of the night with my sore throat) do I not just click the new post button and type SOMETHING. What did I do today, I went to east Bumble MS, got told a tall tale, or a short tale, a whopper or a minnow about what went wrong.

Or I stretched Line A to point C, around the bend and back again twisted on an end or two and viola bubkiss (is it bub kiss or bup kiss I always forget) nothing happens I always love that occurrence. And who knows who walks through the door. So I always have material, even as of  late I have a sore throat, a monster sore throat really it ate my normal sore throat for breakfast with it's scratchy toes, and I lean back cough up a little phlegm(even the spelling of the word is nasty looking) and sit up quickly nope not hitting that new post button. (okay I did it this time doesn't mean I'm gonna hit the publish post button), I mean I have been to the A and back since my last blog entry(which was in august), now yes no laptop means I am less likely to be able to type up random thoughts as I traipse through various bergs either in the passenger seat or just kicking back doing a long distance reload. I realize now that it caused me to be more prolific because I could pound away in bed(yup I had to let that innuendo laced reference go), sit at the console, just be anywhere not stuck in my cave of solace but no privacy and still be connected to the World Wide.

I mean I tweet more, mostly flirtation a few political comments the odd sarcastic whimsey here and there(really spell check Whimsical is in your list but whimsey is not FOR SHAME) mainly because it is easier to access twitter ala my smart phone then it is to blog, at the moment. I'm sure if I was HIGHLY motivated to do it I could bang out a rather short utterance here and there. But what about ANY post I have ever done here or on any other blog every Screamed SHORT UTTERANCE to you. Hmm I wonder if I'm compensating for a limited vocabulary or a lack of speaking outlets. Anyway okay YAY I did it chalk one up for the man with the randomosity plan. I might be back, might not be back(stolen from an LL cool jay song of course I'll be back nobody else blogs on this page but ME) so til then just like the old jingle "Our name is our address) Primal signing off

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