Unforgivable

Unforgivable - Patrick Kelly

People tell me just to let it go
But they don’t have what I’ve got for you
They can say these things ‘cause they don’t know
What it is that I’m going through
I’ve searched all my life for someone like you
I’m well past the point of all control
This is something I’ve got to do

Because these feelings inside are the kind I can’t shake
And we have our whole lives but I just can’t wait

Bring the comfort back into my soul
I feel you warm me but still I feel so cold
And I’ve searched all my life for someone like you
The other part of what completes my whole

All those nights I’ve spent alone
I don’t know how I’ve gotten through
I feel a sickness deep down in my bones
I don’t know what else I can lose...without you...

I can’t get over it, the feeling’s too strong
But the pain feels so good, I just can’t move on
And it’s unforgivable, inexcusable, to be so beautiful
I can’t hold back these feelings I’ve kept for too long

So bring the comfort back into my soul
I feel you warm me but still I feel so cold…

A female version of a hustler

What does this even mean? Why do you have to be a female version of a hustler? No dudes are out here trying to be male versions of a diva. I know what you're thinking...and that sad group of men are trying to be divas. Not a male version of one. You know what a female version of a hustler is? A hustler. Snoop from the wire is a hustler. Beyonce...not so much. Worst part about it...she describes a diva in the song. Not a hustler. I don't get it. How can you claim to be something that you don't even talk about? Maybe an oversight on my part. The song's probably better instrumental. Just my opinion.

The Intersection...nothing profound ahead

Every morning on my way to work I have to go through a "T" intersection with one stop sign. This sucks for no one more than those on the stem of the T (see image). This particular intersection backs up because of several reasons:

1. Those on the stem of the T (the car turning in the picture) have to wait for traffic to clear, as they have zero right-of-way.

2. Those coming down the road (towards you in the picture) sometimes have to make a left turn.

3. Those going up the road (away from you in the picture) feel it necessary to let those falling under #1 and #2 go, even though they have no legal obligation to do so.

This sounds like crap, I know. First of all, what the hell am I talking about? Secondly, so what, right? They're being nice. Fuck that. I used to feel like letting them in would be somehow repaid to me later in the day. Let someone in at 8am, and find a dollar at 10am. Let two people in at 8am, win the lottery. But I have had days when letting someone in was the best part of my day. When the shit was already on the fan. So I deemed the courtesy I displayed while behind the wheel and the outcome of my day to have no correlation whatsoever. If I am nice, then I am nice. But I took it a step further...

At what point did we decide that doing something nice yields something nice in return? When did we take the "what goes around comes around" mantra and make it so universally applicable? I guess the real question is: are good people really good? If you ask me, doing something good to get something good in return defeats the purpose of doing the good deed in the first place. "x" does not equal "x+1." Who ever told us, "do this and you will get a good life?" Whatever happened to being good for goodness' sake? Maybe making someone's day is enough. I don't have a lot else to say on this. If you want to be an asshole, be the best asshole you can be. Don't halfstep it. But if you're going to be a "good" person, then be a good person, and let that be the end of it. Don't look for the "come around." You did something nice. Great job...you made someone's day. That should be enough right?

But fuck those cars...they have to wait.

"Why don't you write more happy songs?"

Because life sucks that's why. Ask any writer. We write from experience. Has my life been a bevy of shit, more shit with a side of shit and shit to drink (no ice)? Of course not. I have a lot to be thankful for, a lot to be happy or excited about. But when it comes to writing, it's different. I had a conversation with a good friend of mine the other night about this. Below is the follow-up e-mail I sent her. My attempt at explaining. Enjoy.

Beebs,
I was thinking about what you said the other night about writing more happy songs. I'm a happy person...promise. I think it's just a matter of not being that happy. I'm definitely not writing about "saw you in the club that night...you were lookin' so flyyyy....the way you wore those jeans...you had me hypnotiiiiiized." For one, that's never happened to me, and for two...eww. I have had some very good times relationship-wise, and I've written about those times. I think it's a matter of relatability. Is that a word? Well guess what...I already used it, so HA! Like if I write about all the good times, people will listen and think "wow that guy must've been happy." Sure they will. But then when I write about the bad times it's like "man that shit can not be easy." Plus I think I can go deeper with sad stuff than I can with happy stuff. Easily. And think about the music I compose. Not exactly "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts" material. I like making dramatic music, and I've never really been dramatically happy or excited. Listen to My Immortal and tell me you don't get sad just listening to it. I think that's the thing about sad music too...even if you haven't gone through that same situation the song can take you exactly to where whoever wrote it was coming from. Can't do that with happy or upbeat songs. I can't feel what it's like to be rich because I listened to a P Diddy song. But I felt Amy Lee. Hopefully someday people will feel me. That's really it. Promise I'll smile more.

Love,
Your Big Brother

What are you willing to give?

All in together the weather is better than ever. I hope it never ends I hope it lasts forever. But when it does, we can all pretend that it's better than it's ever been...

We all go through things. It's life. When things are up, they can be really good. When things are down, it can get dicey. The rest of the time you're floating somewhere along the continuum. And that's fine while it lasts. But what happens when things get real rough? Not sandpaper rough. Not gravel rough. I'm talkin' boneyard rough. When your normal "I'll be alright" or "This will pass" doesn't work anymore. When you're tired of being a dog without a day. When you start to shut down...

Sometimes you just need someone to tell you it's ok. Maybe not make things ok. But sometimes just the words help. Just that extra little push that can take you to tomorrow when you thought you were going to lose it tonight. It helps to know someone is behind you. Someone who knows you and believes in your ability to persevere and bounce back. That, in and of itself can help you push through. Knowing that someone has your back even when you can't have it yourself.

Trust me, it's not easy to put your own issues on the back burner to help someone else with theirs. I mean let's face it, we all have shit to deal with. I've realized that being a friend/son/brother/cousin/supervisor/any other role you play in another's life comes with significant responsibility. Let me qualify that. Being a good [anyone of those] comes with siginificant responsibility. You have to be willing to sacrifice a lot for those you love. You have to be willing to not come first for a change. I honestly believe that if you're ok taking silver every now and then someone else will give you their gold. And if they don't, then helping them should be a victory unto itself. I'm not saying give all of yourself. You gotta keep something. But also remember that not everything you have is for you.

This year I'm thankful for everyone who let me come first. Happy Thanksgiving!

What's on the surface?

I think it's a matter of representation...

Strangely enough, watching the American Music Awards got me a-thinkin'. I wrote another blog about music. Check it out. I wrote couple blogs about being Black. Check them out. But I'm speaking more globally here. Bottom line, I don't want some of the people who represent me representing me. They can't represent me...there's no way. Let me explain...

Somehow, he made his way back...the self-proclaimed Ringleader himself, Mr. T-Pain. For anyone who saw the AMA's, you know what I'm getting at. But this man looked like a fool. Not a regular fool, but a Black fool, which is a whoooole kinda different. In some circles he'd be referred to as a coon. Urbandictionary.com defines "coonery" as: Antics and behavior displayed by certain underclass individuals in the Black culture, the end result being the embarrassment of the rest of the upstanding Black community. Except for the whole underclass part, this man was guilty of anywhere between 5 to 8 counts of coonery. Now speaking as a proud Black man, this was simply insulting. I feel you T-Pain, do what you do. But you're out here just acting a complete ass. Whites who aren't exposed to Blacks see him, they see 50 Cent, they see Pacman Jones, they see the local news, and extrapolate the rest. So to them I become a menace to society (I don't want to know what that combination would yield).

More food for thought: I don't know if anyone noticed, but the New Kids on the Block are back. Like for real back. They have an album out and everything. A new tour, and a shit-ton of fans. Really? Like that's the best we could do? I remember the "boy band" scene was the shit back in the day. Backstreet Boys, N*Sync, 98 Degrees, 5ive...it didn't stop. Everybody had a boy band (I'm going to stop saying boy band...it makes me uncomfortable). But now that that time is thankfully over, we've moved on to better things. Or so we thought. So now we have NKOTB once more. I say again...really? That's the best we could do? Again, it's all about representation. NKOTB are representing the current state of the music world. Scary, right?

And this is why I feel like I need to make it.

Now in an attempt not to be relabeled as a hater (trust, it's all love), I'd like to highlight an example we can all relate to. Not everyone who reads this is Black or an aspiring musician but I'm pretty sure y'all are American. So George W. Bush. He was the face of this country for the past 8 years. If other countries around the world weren't laughing at us, they hated us, and it was all because of this man. This horrible man. I'm done making my point. He sucks.

I know what you're thinking "well that muthafucka don't represent me!" He doesn't. You're right. I don't know T-Pain very well as a person, but I like to think we don't have much in common outside of being Black. NKOTB...yeah. No comment. Nothing in common with them either. The people whom I love and keep close to me represent who I am. But T-Pain and them...they represent groups I belong to. Black. Musician. American. When I think of times I'm ashamed of being part of a whole, those people are usually involved. Think of a time you were proud to be Black or Canadian or South American. When you were proud to be a woman or a man or a father or mother. Or proud to be a Baltimorean, New Yorker, or Texan. That means someone who represented those groups did something noteworthy. And those sheltered individuals who don't know you personally could easily be tricked into thinking you're the same as them. I guess it's a gift and a curse.

The most wonderful time of the year

We are coming up on my favorite time of year. The Holidays. Doesn't matter what god you pray to - just about everyone gets excited around this time...

Thanksgiving. It means a variety of things - you get to see family you haven't seen in a while. Friends you don't see too often come home from school and you pick up right where you left off. You meet your homeboy's new girlfriend for the first time. Or your sister's new fiance. Or your brand new niece or nephew. You get to eat your grandmother's home cooking. You get to watch the parade. Ok, you probably sleep through the parade but you know that shit is on. Then you have a football game to watch at noon. Another one at 3. Another one at 6. Watch it with your uncles and cousins. Hate the fact that you have to work the next day, but live in the now while you're with your loved ones. That's what I'm doing a week from today.

And it's cold outside. I catch a lot of flack when I say this but I love cold weather. Don't get me wrong - there isn't much you can't do with a sunny 70-degree day. But the cold is only for those who can appreciate it. Some people rush from the car to the front door. Me...I take deeper breaths. Inhale the crisp winter air. Embrace the gusts of wind that welcome me when I set foot outside. Tell the birds, "see you in Spring, bitches." It actually snowed yesterday in Baltimore. If at any point I was having a bad day, seeing frozen precipitation was a quick remedy. I couldn't wait to wear sweaters, coats, scarves. And I get it for 4 more months! Summer, take your time.

Lest we forget about Christmas? Oh yeah. I'm not even talking about Santa and them. Those boys can stay up in the North Pole for all I care. As much as I complain there's a certain appeal to going to the mall on that last Saturday before Christmas. Seeing all those families together. Little kids who have no idea that the one toy they've wanted all year is waiting in their parents' closet till its debut on Christmas morning. Certain appeal to driving around and seeing all the houses lit up with decorations. Thinking about the family time that went into decorating that tree you see in the living room window. Certain appeal to walking into the house and being overwhelmed with the scent of pine. Certain appeal about the cologne you got for Christmas - it still takes you back even when it's June. And there's a certain appeal to seeing people's reactions to the gift you got for them. It's the best when they're really surprised.

Never been big on New Year's Eve celebrations, but my birthday is January 14 (act accordingly), and I'm actually looking forward to this one. Yes I'm getting old. Fuck it. Staring 30 dead in the grill. But I can dig it... Don't usually get a lot of birthday presents; since it's so close to Christmas people think they can do the "combined" gift. Weak. But I think I'm going to start enjoying birthdays. It's an excuse for me to get all the people I care about together. This year will be no different, so mark your calendars...

I'm all done here. This all may be a bit premature, but I just thought I'd share. Thanks for listening. Here's to the next few months...

The Speakeasy will win

This eating healthy thing is going to raise my blood pressure. I went to the doctor a couple weeks ago and I asked her what my diet should look like. She asked me what it looked like now. The conversation something went like this:

Me: I try not to eat late (lying like shit), not a whole lot of red meat, I get my fill of vegetables, fruit, drink lots of water.
Her: That sounds about right. How often do you eat red meat?
Me: Maybe once or twice a week.
Her: Good. And vegetables? Fruits? How many a day?

A day doc? I eat like three a week. On a good week. Sometimes two a month. She then proceeded to tell me I should be eating nine servings of fruit/vegetables a day. Nine? Let's say I'm awake and functional (on average) for 18 hours a day. That means I am eating a vegetable or fruit every other hour...and that's not even factoring in travel time, showers, throw a nap in there, time I might be eating other food, etc.

She then proceeded to tell me I needed to eat different types of fruit and vegetables. She explained that each color represented a different vitamin/mineral/chemical or whatever that would help me live longer. Bananas are yellow so that means this. Tomatoes are red so that means this. Carrots are orange so they're good for this.

Well dammit lady, give me a plate of nachos covered with jalapenos, sour cream, taco meat and salsa - all kinds of colors, and it tastes delicious. Beer comes in all shades of brown, from pale ale and lager amber to the more earthy umber of porters and stouts. And beer is great. Don't worry doc, I'll still eat my veggies. I usually get lettuce and fried onions on my burger. No pictures this time. I'm hungry.

PS - Fried provolone cheese on a burger is never a good idea.

"Mr. Kelly, what's the piano picture all about?"

So I make music. If you ask me it's pretty damned good. Of course I'd say that right? No but seriously. I listen to what is on the radio. What the "people" like. It's really sad. I hate to sound like an old man, but music really isn't what it used to be. I could go back to the 60's or 70's for a reference but damn, do I really have to to prove my point? We could take it back to '94 if you wanted to. Hell, even '97. Don't get me wrong, there are still some gems out there today but you have to look. Hard. Now don't go calling me a hypocrite...I know there are some things on my iPod that some might deem questionable at best. Bottom line, I like what sounds good. Whether that's Britney or Beethoven, doesn't matter. But trust me, what I lack in music taste (isn't much) I more than make up for in musical talent. Something not on my iPod:

I could put u in a log...cabin somewhere in aspen,
Girl aint nothin to the Pain, it aint trickin if u got what u askin...forrrrr.
Put u in a mansion, somewhere in wiscansin.
Like i said it aint nothin to the pain we could change the last name, wats happinen.
~T-Pain

Romantic stuff. What girl doesn't want to hear that, right? Of course I'm being facetious. But people LOVE that song. Super love it. I don't understand. It sounds dumb, the lyrics are horrible, and Lil Wayne sounds wasted. But it gets spins. Lots of them. So anyone who likes this song please tell me why. Let's take another look. Something on my iPod:

Every night I long for you. I look up at the stars, and they whisper back your name.
So I stay up till dawn for you. Convinced the night is ours, but the emptiness remains.
‘Cause you’re still miles away from me, burning me up inside, it’s slowly, surely breaking me.
And your love keeps evading me,
But I can’t say no tonight so I’ll just wait here patiently.
~Patrick Kelly

This isn't the best I can do. There are better songs I've written with better lyrics, but you see what I'm working with. But next to T-Pain and them it looks like sheer brilliance. So what's he got that I don't (besides a recording contract)? There isn't much that I think I'm the best at. I don't even think I'm the best songwriter ever. But I'm pretty good. So someone tell me what's happening...and I'll tell you it's gotta be me. Sometime soonish. Someone else can sing the songs but they have to be sung, and more importantly they have to be heard. I have a gift...don't make me waste my time.

"Ma, we done struck it rich!"

What does a rich redneck do? Like seriously. When you refer to someone as "poor white trash," they have to be white, trashy, and oh yeah - poor. So say someone who, under normal circumstances, would be considered poor white trash. They hit the lottery. Or they go to Vegas and hit a lucky streak on the slots. Pick a lame horse with long odds to win it...and it does. Somehow they get their hands on some serious cake. What then? Are they rich white trash? And what do they spend their money on? Pickup trucks? 3,000 cases of Coors? Really shiny sunglasses? A really big gun to kill deer, Black people, or anyone that gets in the way of their rudimentarily hedonistic lifestyle? I always hear about people in Hampden or Dundalk, MD (non-Marylanders look it up...it's on the map right before the end of the world) winning the lottery and I wonder how their lives change.

That's all I got for a Saturday.

The Allure of Duality

At my job I am in this leadership program. Great program. It is supposedly extremely selective, only accepting the very finest up-and-coming leaders my company has to offer. There are roughly 3,000 employees at my site. 24 participants in the program. 3 of us are Black. But this is just the prologue. We’ll come back to that…

For the majority of my life I have been in predominantly White situations. “What do you mean… you grew up in America like the rest of us?” Not quite. Well yes, but not quite what I’m getting at. My mother made the decision when I was very young to send me to private schools. Before I continue, note: I am not knocking public schools. I’m just speaking to my experience. So what this meant is that during my formative years I was always going to be the minority. I saw my family. Loved them and love them still. I’m proud of each one of them, and hopefully they’re proud of me. They provided me with a strong foundation in preparation for this life. But I saw the people I went to school with 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, and sometimes even on the weekend. Being a student, classmate and friend had just as much to do with my rearing as anything else. All boys high school, mostly White. There were maybe 10 Black people in my class. I was cool with maybe 6 of them. Ahhh the microcosm that is Gilman School. Needless to say culture shock was never a huge problem for me.

From Gilman to Boston College to the corporate world…all the same.

So what am I getting at? Small tidbits of information…a little glimpse into my childhood…a couple multisyllabic words…but it still…doesn’t…quite…mean...anything. What I’m getting at is this: I think understanding both “sides” of the experience is a benefit to being Black, or any minority for that matter. A lot of times people talk about “playing the game.” I don’t think it’s as important that we play the game as it is to know that their game is different from ours - Mike would say they’re playing with different toys. Being able to learn the other side, experience it for myself, understand it, live in it…valuable unto itself. Quick example: Shortly after the Colts won the Super Bowl, I was trying to explain to a White friend of mine why it’s significant that a Black coach won, and two Black coaches competed. After about 10 minutes I chalked it up as a loss, and figured she was just ignorant. Did I waste my time? Maybe. Should she know why? Of course. Would I do it again? Hell no…trying to convince her was like talking to a baboon’s ass. But I think this clearly demonstrates a very distinct point. White people are unaware of their own ignorance. Minorities are very aware of White people’s ignorance, and oddly enough it puts us at an advantage.

So back to this leadership program and my two sisters (the aforementioned Caucasoid would have referred to them as “sistaz”…true story). We all met today, and I kinda had a moment of clarity. I looked around the room and thought to myself that I might be one of the smartest people in the room. Not because I know about 402(g) deferral limits or the definition of a long straddle (don’t be nasty). It’s because there are some things I’ve experienced or will experience that most of those kids will never come close to. Some lessons I’ve learned they’ll live their whole lives without learning. Having spotted both games, I’m as valuable an asset to those people in that program and that company as they’ll ever know. I’m onto them, and I find solace in that.

The Great Pumpkin never knew...

Halloween. What a holiday. I keep hearing everyone say "it's the one holiday when you can be whatever you want!" I'm not even going to break down that statement, as you should try to be whatever you want 24/7/365. Instead of addressing the lack of motivation/insecurity/whatever you want to call it manifested in that attempted justification at dressing up for Halloween, I have bigger fish to fry. Plus, it's Sunday night, and I just don't have that much time.

Some things just weren't meant to be. Or some things aren't for a reason. Or some things were once upon a time but never should have been. In other words, White people should never dress up as Black people for Halloween. Harking back to that previous statement, no White person in his or her right mind wants to be Black. Ever. Paul Mooney once said "everyone wants to be a nigga but don't nobody wanna be a nigga." If that isn't the damned truth.

To give a little background, there used to be these things called Minstrel shows. Minstrel shows depicted African-Americans in a deeply humiliating, degrading manner as ignorant, lazy, subservient, joyous and musical. Oh and let's not forget sub-human. If that isn't bad enough, the Black people portrayed in Minstrel shows were played largely by White actors. Here's where it gets disturbing. White actors would darken their faces to appear Black, and voila: you have Blackface.

Fast forward to 2008. You still have White people out here painting their faces to appear to be a Black person. I know it's all in good fun, but it's important to consider the potentially insulting consequences of doing such a thing. The reason some Black celebrities are important is because they are a manifestation of a dream (No, I'm not talking about Flava Flav or Lil Jon - Don't know whose dream that is, but it sure is not mine). The reason people love them is because it's inspiration to keep trying. Tiger...Oprah...Barack...people who are the best at what they do, not because they're Black, but because they're good. But they are Black. So I and people like me can look at what's out there and not be discouraged. They are doing it, so I can do it. White people never had that experience. It's never been difficult for them to achieve or even think about achieving. Us...we had to go through some things. So don't cheapen my dreams because you want to be funny. Please go back to being a clown or a slut. That's much easier to believe. Hopefully someone listens to me.

Thanks, Facebook, for putting me in this foul mood.