Thursday, April 27, 2017

Somebody still clicks this site.


  At the end of January I received an email from the US State Dept. asking for a number to reach me. It was a bit alarming so I answered it. The woman called me five times before I answered. Finally when I did, she told me that a Ukrainian citizen had asked my embassy for information about me. The woman asked a lot of questions about the Ukrainian. I didn't really say anything, and was relieved to find out the call really had nothing to do with me.
 That's it...I didn't contact anyone, and answered nothing. It was never, NEVER, my intention for someone to be digging into either my own background, or the Ukrainian's background. Going to the US embassy, especially now in the "Trump Era" was a terrible idea, and brought this person to the attention of the US authorities. I would simply not initiate such a thing, and truly I was of no help to the US authorities. Well, I was told the Ukrainian then  lost her US visa, and she blames me. It's just not true.

  •   I hope this entire crazy story is over. I truly feel bad for this person, and I wish them well in all things. Some lessons should never be needed, and I don't fell like they deserve it, or needed to be dealt such a ridiculously heavy handed treatment from the US. Whether they brought it on themselves, or not.. This was simply too harsh. People should be free to travel wherever they want, and this is just further proof of how fucked the US is presently.


Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Nigga from Space Ch 1

1-Gifted

Jamaal's fingers creased the rolling paper, he folded it over, then deftly created the corner folds along the crease. He held it back at arm's length surveying his work for just a second before bringing down one hand to grab a pinch of bud he had meticulously trimed with his tiny scissors. He performed the task on tray upon the coffee table, and within the tray now was a very large pile of trimmed up weed. Jamaal's other hand was holding the rolling paper wide open to receive the weed. He was veteran roller for sure.
Jamaal was seventeen year's old, and a pretty big kid, scary even. He was just at six feet, but Jamaal probably went about 200lbs. He had a lean, chiseled physique, which he normally exhibited by wearing NBA jerseys, today he sported a Kyrie Irving Cavs jersey which displayed his arms, both covered in tattoos of varying quality, but showing off his massive, perfectly formed biceps. Baggy jeans, and LeBron James "Olympics" in red, white and blue completed his ensemble. His hair was unbraided today, and picked out into a gigantic afro. Jamaal's skin was dark too. So dark in comparison to even his other black friends that he had endured a lifetime of nicknames, and insults about it. Jamaal had noticed however that as he became bigger, and tougher, and ultimately had come to be known as "somebody you don't fuck with", what he noticed was the nicknames themselves had become more, and more benign. Kids may have hassled Jamaal about how dark he was, and in truth he did look as if he were from Africa , or something. He was the darkest skinned person people had even seen. By the time Jamaal was twelve, or thirteen nobody really teased him. Kids are dumb, but they aren't that dumb. He was a monster in those formative years when compared to the other children. A short series of battles with older, larger kids at his school resulted in two instances where an ambulance had to be called, and in one fight a kid lost a few teeth. When at age twelve a kid retaliates to a bully by knocking a few of the bully's teeth out, well that isn't something soon forgotten. Jamaal solidified his "somebody you don't fuck with" reputation at a very young age. Lately people had started calling him "Midnite", he figured it should be "Midnight" but since none of his friends could spell it was forever "Midnite" in texts, and when someone would write it. He kind of liked it either way, it sounded tough.
Jamaal was sitting on the couch in the apartment where he had lived with his mother, and younger siblings for several months. It was off Spring Ave, and in a bad neighborhood of Canton, but they had lived in worse. He had a ten year old half-brother named Tyrus, a nine year old half-sister Mary, and a six year old sister named Belle. Only Belle, and Mary were full sisters to one another. All of the children were considerably lighter skinned than Jamaal, as was his mother for that matter. He would say " Damn! My daddy must have been one black-ass motherfucker", and his mom's most common reply was "That nigga was black as hell". He didn't have a picture, or even a name for his dad. His mom, Marsha gave birth to Jamaal when she was only fourteen years old, and all he knew of his dad was that he was much older than her, and dipped off when the underage girl he was fucking got knocked up. He figured good riddance, and he didn't hold a single grudge against his mother, Marsha for anything they had been through together.
Jamaal finished piling up his little line of pot across the bottom of the opened paper. Now he took both hands, and with a fluid motion, twisted the joint up evenly, perfectly. With just a few millimeters left to roll, he brought it up to his mouth. "KNOCK, KNOCK" Two big bangs on the door brought him to full attention. Cops don't knock like that was his first thought, cops never use just two knocks. He brought the doobie down, but kept both hands on either side of his still unfinished work. "Who is it?" he said loudly

"It's Darnell, nigga. Open your shit" came a loud response.
Jamaal relaxed, "Cool, hold up" was Jamaal's answer. He quickly brought the joint to his lips, and with a quick lick, and twist it was done. He stood up, the whole apartment had a general shabby appearance, but it was clean, and comfortable, if completely mismatched, and well worn.
"Nigga you got some good timing" said Jamaal, as he opened the door.
Darnell beamed "oh shit, Midnite I was hoping you'd have some weed yo"
"Come the fuck on nigga, you know damn well I always got my smoke" Jamaal said this as he held out the joint for a second for Darnell to see, and then went back towards the couch. "shut that door nigga" said Jamaal, fishing deep into his jeans pocket with his free hand, before producing a Bic lighter.

Darnell came in, shut the door, and turned the deadbolt. "Where is everybody?" he said. Jamaal plopped down on the couch, lighter in one hand, the doobie in the other.
"The kid's are at school, and Mom's at Burger King" replied Jamaal.
"Oh shit I forgot she got a job, well look's like it's time to burn my nigga" said Darnell
Jamaal looked up at his fat friend "Well sit the fuck down Darnell, and let's blaze this"

Jamaal fired up the joint, then he reached over to the table grabbing the remote for the stereo, and turning up the volume. Rap music got louder, but not so loud anyone in the apartment complex could start bitching. Darnell plopped down on the couch, and that's a lot of plopping. The floor reverberated a little Jamaal, who was now drawing a succession of big hits from the doobie, stopped for a second and said. "Damn motherfucker, don't be tearing shit up. Don't be throwing your fat ass down on my shit, for real nigga." He looked at Darnell, Jamaal's brow furrowed, and the crease made him look intimidating.
"Aight, nigga. I'm sorry man, let me hit that shit" replied Darnell, and Jamaal handed him the joint. Jamaal looked at Darnell while the latter now took his chance to hit the joint.

Darnell was also seventeen, and he was tall, and fat. He was over six two, and weighed at least 270lbs.. Jamaal had known Darnell for more than ten years, and he had always been a fat kid. Even as elementary school children Jamaal had fucked with him about his weight. "if people think kids on welfare are starving they ain’t never seen your fat, black ass" he'd say. Darnell's clothing was baggy jeans, a long-sleeved Dallas Cowboys t-shirt, and some old school, white Airforce IIIs. He also wore a gigantic fake Rolex. He'd stolen the watch off another kid who had taken it off to shoot hoops. His hair was trimmed tight against his head, and he sported what might have been a beard, but it was spotty, and only filled in on the very tip of his chin, like he couldn't grow a real one. He took one long drag off the joint, and then a rapid series of small hits, bobbing his head to the rap. Occasionally he'd mouth some of the lyrics "Bitches, and money"...."yeah nigga". Jamaal wasn't paying attention to him now, he was nearly stoned again for the third time today. He looked at the clock on the stereo, 2:36 pm.

Jamaal always felt at his best when stoned. In fact he had decided years ago hat any activity worth doing was better when stoned. When Marsha his mom had been about twenty-five, and Jamaal eleven, they started smoking together. At first Marsha started smoking with him because she hated smoking alone. As the children started adding up she found herself alone, more, and more. Jamaal wasn't just Marsha's son, he was her only real friend all these years, a fact not lost on either.

Darnell passed the joint back, "So what's up Midnight, we gonna do this shit?" Jamaal took a drag, let a little smoke out, and then quickly inhaled it through his nose. He was looking Darnell right in the eyes. Darnell continued without a response from Jamaal. "Nigga this shit is perfect. We know they got a lot of nice shit, they ain’t got no alarm, and they ain’t gonna even be in town." What's the problem man, you pussying out on me, you on that faggy time, nigga. Getting soft?"
Jamaal said "Yo nigga, didn't your sister get fired anyway? How do you even know they are still going on vacation?"
Darnell took a hit, and trying to hold it in while talking said. "Look nigga you know how white folks are, they plan this shit like a year in advance. They're going on that cruise, yo. This is gonna be easy fucking pickings, Midnight."
Jamaal was a little annoyed that Darnell called him soft. "Darnell calling me soft?" he thought. "ain't that some shit" When he responded to Darnell there was just a bit of warning in his tone. "Look bitch don't ever call me soft, unless you can take me. I just know it's been a minute since Darlene lost that babysitting gig, and this nigga ain't trying to get hemmed up."
Darnell hit the joint, now just a tiny little roach, one last time, and butted it out on the tray in front of him. Darnell said " Damn that’s some chronic yo! I'm high as a motherfucker. Look, check this shit out. My sister didn't get fired, she just stopped showing up, and they got a new babysitter. Anyway that shit don't even matter. Darlene was there the fucking day he got his tickets. Mr. H told her all about the cruise, he already spent the money, they're going on the damn cruise. I know where all his shit is, and he ain't got no alarm, no safe, nothing. This shit is easy as hell. Look man, I think you like Mr. H, and that’s cool man, he's a good white dude mos' def, but that motherfucker has insurance yo. He ain't gonna lose nothing, but the time it takes to fill out the damn papers. That's prolly why that motherfucker ain't got no safe, cuz he knows he'll get his shit back anyway"

Jamaal thought about this, and Darnell was probably right. Jamaal could beat the shit out of Darnell, easily in fact. Darnell had seen Jamaal fight many times, he wondered if Darnell would even fight back? He would probably just run, Jamaal was some kind of monster in a fight, and they both knew it. When it came to plans, and ideas though, Darnell was the brain's guy, and Jamaal just accepted the fact that Darnell was the smarter of the two. They both quit school sometime during their sophomore years, but when Jamaal quit he could barely do the work. He had never been a good reader, and would normally either have to find a girl to cheat off of, or he would have to intimidate someone into doing his work for him. Darnell on the other hand had no problem doing the work, and had even been an "A" student all the way up to the Ninth grade. He simply stopped going to school because he wanted to devote more time to smoking weed, and playing X-Box. He was lazy, but had always been clever.

The plan Darnell was talking about had been hatched almost a month ago. Sean, and Mindy Hartzel were teachers for Canton City schools. Sean, Mr. Hartzel was the choir, and band teacher at Timken High, and he was a study hall monitor. Mindy Hartzel was the music teacher at the middle school, and the assistant marching band director at the high school. They were generally known as being cool teachers, and Mr. Hartzel had spent a lot of one on one time with kids during their study halls, including Darnell, and Darnell's sister Darlene. Jamaal had Mrs. Hartzel for music class in middle school, and then through Darnell he some contact with Mr. Hartzel when they got to the high school. Up until the end of Darnell's freshman year he had been considered "gifted", and there were always a few teachers interested in him. He had been the only friend Jamaal had ever known who actually read a book, on his own just because he wanted to. Jamaal figured he read books because he was such a fat fuck, so what else was he going to do? Whether he read books for enjoyment, or because he sucked at hoops, and had no chance of getting laid, there was still no doubting he was a bright guy, and certainly the smartest friend Jamaal had ever had. Mr., and Mrs. Hartzel had both spent a lot of time with Darnell, and when he gave up on school they took an interest in his little sister, even giving her a job babysitting their young daughter, Beth. Jamaal always liked them, well all the kids liked them really. Jamaal had even heard they smoked out, but he didn't know if that was true or not.

Darnell continued " Let me go over the facts again, my nigga. I know right where he's got his horns, like four keyboards, a couple guitars, a laptop and some jewelry. That's money right there, nigga. Some of that shit is locked up, but it's just in some bullshit cases, and we can just bust that shit. We can prolly get in, and out within five fucking minutes. They ain't got no alarm, and I know how to get in the back door. They got that big ass privacy fence in the back too, so ain’t nobody gonna see us. This shit is too easy man. What's the problem?"

Jamaal listened, and he couldn't help but think "Yeah Darnell is right, there ain't nothing to this shit" still he was scared of jail time. He said to Darnell " OK so are you sure you got that van lined up?"
"Listen man" replied Darnell, and he sounded confident. Darnell knew from ten years of freindship that Jamaal was going to do this with him, he just needed to explain it in a way that made sense to Jamaal. It had never been hard for Darnell to talk Jamaal into anything, and this instance was no different. Darnell went on. " I'm getting my auntie's van at six on Thursday, that's the day after the Hartzel's leave. I told my auntie we're going to Kahlifa show, and since she'll be sleeping when we get back, I'll bring the van by in the morning."
"Damn nigga, you lucky she don't want to see our tickets" interrupted Jamaal.
Darnell didn't miss a beat. "Nigga my auntie always trusts my ass, I ain’t got to show her shit. Fuck the damn show, Khalifa is played out anyway. We get the van, and chill for a few hours. Around midnight we pull up on the street behind Hartsel's. We both jump the fence, and I'll jimmy that back door. I got a way a doing it I read about where I'll use a towel on one of the little windows on the back door to break it. Then we just open the door. I'll tell you where all their shit is, and you start collecting the shit, and piling it up at the front door. While you doing that, I'll get the van, and bring it around to the front of the house, and just park it. By that time we only need like three more minutes. You open the front door for me, and we get all that shit in like two trips to the van. Just throw the shit on a sheet, or whatever. We make two trips out to the van, and we jet, no fucking around. We drive that shit back to my dad's crib, pull all the way back in his drive where nobody can see shit, and we unload it into his basement. Job done, nigga."
To Jamaal it didn't sound like a bad plan at all, he had one protest though " Wait nigga, why I gotta be in there alone, and your fat ass is pulling the van around all safe, and shit?"
Darnell was quick to respond to this, he knew that question was coming. In fact he knew his friend Jamaal pretty damn well. "Look; First of all nigga, I am fat as fuck, that ain't no lie. Your ass can get the shit together a lot faster than me. Second of all I'm gonna be scoping the scene while I get the truck. Listening, watching for neighbors lights, and besides if a cop were to come around when I get the van, I got the DLs. I can tell the cops to fuck off, and then text you to get the fuck out. We don't to want to pull the van up before we got the shit together. In, and out nigga, like fucking ninjas. Aight?"
Jamaal nodded, and added " Yeah man I guess you got a good plan"
To which Darnell responded "Look man, on Wednesday I'll go by their crib, and make sure they ain’t there. Hell yeah I gotta good plan, so chill out nigga. That chronic is making you 'noid yo, I thought of everything." While Jamaal couldn't be sure of the entirety of Darnell's plan, he knew this; Darnell was smarter than he was , so he probably was just being paranoid.

"Aight, so we set?" asked Darnell. "We got this shit covered, right?"
"Yeah nigga, sound's straight" replied Darnell
"Hell yeah , now let me beat your ass in some 2K" said Darnell, and he pulled got off the couch, and reached underneath it, pulling out an Xbox. He reached in again, and fished out first one controller, which he handed to Jamaal, and then another.
"Hell yeah man, but I get Lebron, and the Heat" Jamaal said to him as he looked very closely at the controllers, apparently preferring one over the other. He sized up both, and then decided on one. "You set that shit up. I'm Heat, and I'll roll one."
Darnell said "Fuck Lebron James nigga, sell out mother fucker. I'm a take Lakers, and Kobe's SIX motherfucking rings, bitch. Roll that shit."
Jamaal was laughing now, and he answered "We gotta get out of here in like an hour, then I'm a roll over to Janice's house and hit that shit, and you gotta peace out."

"Word." You about to get skunked, motherfucker" Darnell said.

The idea of having a little money in his pocket sounded good to Jamaal. Maybe he could get a car, or maybe he could get a bunch of weed, and split it up into smaller portions to make even more money. As long as Darnell checked on Wednesday night to see if te Hartsels left on their cruise, he figured they could be in, and out in the five minutes Darnell predicted. Today was Monday, so in five days, he figured they would have sold some of that shit, and he'd have some cash in his pocket. Jamaal pushed the Hartsel plan from his mind, and concentrated on the joint, and the Xbox game now. His little brother, and sisters would be home in an hour, and he wanted to be out of here, and at Janice's house by then.

Darnell with his Lakes thoroughly demolished Jamaal and his Miami Heat, as usual. Darnell almost always won in video games, cards, checkers, TV trivia, really anything that had to do with thought, or hand to eye coordination. Jamaal on the other hand was quite athletic, and coaches had tried to get him to play everything from basketball, to football, to track, and even wrestling. He didn't like being on the teams though, so had always refused. After their Xbox match up, Darnell stood up, and flung his controller down into the couch, bellowing "Damn! Kobe shit on your nigga Lebron James again, yo!"
"Man fuck Kobe Bryant, cmon let's get the fuck out of here before the kids come home." said Jamaal
"Yo man, not until you admit Kobe left a little something-something up in Lebron's ass right there" replied Darnell, he was smiling ear to ear.
"Man, shut the fuck up, and get off my damn couch" Jamaal almost grunted at Darnell, and his brow had that deep crease in it again. He was intimidating for sure.
Darnell saw he had pissed Jamaal off a little. Normally he relished in this sort of thing, but since the kids were coming home soon, he only said "Aight nigga, it's cool. I'm a peel then. I'll catch you tomorrow."
"Word" said Darnell
"Peace" Jamaal added, as he went to the door.
"Peace" replied Darnell. When Darnell left Jamaal went to brush his teeth. He definitely needed to get out of here before his little brother, and sister got home. He was heading over to Janice's house. Janice was twenty one, and had a kid. She lived just a few blocks away in a Section Eight house. He wouldn't call Janice his girlfriend though, and it was just somebody to have sex with in his eyes, and probably her's too.

The next two days for Jamaal, and Darnell were as most. They would get up late, smoke tons of grass, and play X-Box at Jamaal's until right before the kids got home. In fact Jamaal probably had not said more than ten words to any of his siblings in months. He really didn't know ow to relate to little kids. He didn't dislike them, they just made him uncomfortable. With even the closest, his little brother Tyrus, being six years his junior he just didn't connect with them. Jamaal had a hard time interacting with people his own age as well, but it was magnified with kids. Sometimes he would play X-Box with them, but since he didn't like smoking weed in front of his siblings, and he liked to smoke so often he found himself almost never around the house while they were awake, and home themselves.

On Wednesday afternoon when the time came to evacuate the apartment before the kids got home, Jamaal said to Darnell "OK nigga, you gotta check and make sure the Hartsels are left, right?"
"Yeah Midnight, of course man, you think I'm stupid? Shit nigga it's MY PLAN, what you think I'd forget my own plan?" replied Darnell
Jamaal responded "Nigga cut the master plan bullshit, and just make sure them motherfuckers left, aight?"
Darnell pulled his cell out of his pocket to look at the time, and said "Yeah man, I'm a text you after I walk by their house." He held his cell phone up as if to emphasize the statement, and continued "Don't sweat that shit, Midnight. I'm a going to have it all worked out."

"Sweet man, text me that shit" was Jamaal's response. He stood up, and walked towards the door. Darnell stood as well. Jamaal said "Aight nigga, I gotta roll before these kids get home"

"Aight" said Darnell, and he rose as well, and was just about to leave when the door opened, and Marsha, Jamaal's mom, walked in.

"Hey guys, what's up? Whose got the weed?" Marsha said before she even got her purse on the table.

Jamaal looked a little confused "What are you doing home, Mom?" he said "ain't you early?. I ain’t trying to get high wit the kids coming home, but I'll give you some chronic. Darnell is leaving."
Darnell added a quick " Hi Mrs. Jenkins"
"Hey Darnell, peace out" she said, and she opened the door again.
As Darnell walked out, Jamaal called out to him "Yo nigga, text me"
Darnell's response came out from down the hall "Aight"

Marsha took off her coat, and sat down on the couch. She looked up at Jamaal who was still standing, and he had a bag of pot in his hand. He was examining the buds. She said " What you got for Momma, baby boy?"

"Here Mom" and Jamaal handed her a nice bud. She laid it on the table, and taking out her cigarette pack, she took the cellophane off the pack. Then she put them back in her pocket, and carefully placed the bud in the cellophane.
"Thanks Jamaal, I'm a need that. I got fired today" Marsha said.
"Damn, what? What did you do?" Jamaal responded.
Marsha replied " Well I was supposed to take this grease trap thing outside, and shit Jamaal, this thing was nasty. Anyway I was still gonna do it, but it was making me want to barf and shit, so I sat down. Well this manager dude comes outside, and sees me sitting there smoking a cigarette, and just goes off on me...so you know, I just got caught up in it, and next thing I know that motherfucker is asking me to leave."

Jamaal has heard this story more than once. He said to her "So now what then?"
Marsha replied " Well if I don't get something fast, I'll just go back down to Human Services. They'll at least pay the rent, and feed us. Shit, as long as we got a roof over our head, and food, we're good. I'll figure something out"

Jamaal put his jacket. It was a wine red Cavs coat, it matched his jersey today, which was a Anderson Varajao game jersey. His mom spoke up "Where you going baby?" she said.
"I got some shit I gotta do" Jamaal replied.
She looked at him suspiciously, but smiling, and said." You trying to get out of here before your little brother, and sisters get home, huh?
"Whatever, Mom." said Jamaal
Marsha continued " I ain’t stupid, but you know what? Someday you're gonna miss those little fuckers, bet that. And Jamaal you better wear a heavier coat than that. I seen on the news that there is a tropical storm right now in Florida, and we're gonna get a mess tonight, and tomorrow.

Jamaal looked at her, and smiled as he went for the door. He said " I'll be fine Mom, enjoy that chronic."
"Alright baby, you be safe" Said Marsha, and she blew him a little kiss.

As Jamaal walked down the hallway, he thought about his Mom getting fired. He didn't know what it would mean to the family. Somehow they always figured it out. He was going to get some money from this Hartsel job, and now he figured they were going to need it. As much as he avoided his little brother and sisters, he never forgot about them completely. It was hard seeing them go without things like Christmas presents, and toys other kids all had. He knew how they felt, he knew the way the shame felt. He even knew what it was like to be bullied, it had just been a long time since he had let anyone get away with it.

He walked down to Cleveland Ave. to catch the bus out to Janice's house. Looking up at the perfect blue sky overhead, and feeling the heat of the sun warming up his jacket, he laughed inwardly as he thought "Yeah OK Mom, a storm in Florida, right? Well this is Ohio" After a few minutes he got on a bus, and swiped his pass. Just as he was about to sit down he heard the familiar. "BEEP BEEP BEEP" he had a text. It was probably Janice wondering if he was going to make his now nightly bootie call. He thought "I hope this bitch doesn't start getting all emotional, and start texting me all the time" He pulled out his phone, and looked at the display. TEXT FROM DARNELL was displayed. He hit the button to read it.

The message read "we good nobdy here $$$$$'