NO ICE SKATES NECESSARY

Found myself in an awkward, emotionally painful and uncomfortable position this week; the need to speak with my best friend arose, but alas, they are unavailable...to me. Last weekend, about 4 days prior to my need, I made a severe error in judgment and made said friend of almost 7 years, angry. Not something I intended to do, but it occurred nonetheless. The deed is done.

Of course, I thought about this friend on the 3-hour drive back from visiting them. Ironically, the radio show I was listening to while driving dealt with forgiveness, or more specifically, why people choose not to forgive for so long. I listened intently, trying to stay focused as traffic grew thick in certain areas. I was convinced that my transgression would be forgotten before night fall. This friend always made sure that I arrived home safely and would be calling, or at the very least sending a text asking if I had in fact made it in okay. Yes, I assured myself, they wouldn’t be able to sleep until they knew I was safe. Besides, I had already apologized—and I meant it, too, so there was nothing else left.

Or was there?

The sun set and rose again. Then it set and rose again. It has repeated these actions several times over and I still had not heard a word, nor a syllable from my friend—or I guess I should say ex-friend now…?

What I had forgotten is that when people hurt, whether it is physically, mentally, spiritually, or emotionally, they need time to heal. Sometimes, unfortunately, they may never heal. I hope this is not the case with my friend, whom I took major advantage of in a fit of neglectfulness cause purely by selfishness. What I did, exactly, is not important. But the fact that I was looking out for number one without considering anyone else’s feelings is cold-blooded and cold-hearted. While I deserve to be called a number of things, I would not want to thought of as an unfeeling, mean bitch…well, the latter is okay if used in the right context.

Never say never, but, hurting someone and letting them down is the worse feeling in the world and I hope to never feel this way again. This person became my friend with the expectation that I would always treat them with respect and not act an ass. Of course, people do not come out and ask, “Are you going to screw me over? Cause if so, we cannot be friends…”

I pray that someday I will get a second chance to be a true friend again to this person. However, at the moment, they probably wouldn’t consider my friendship, even, “if hell freezes over.”

Oh yeah, the point: if you have friends, cherish them. And let them know how much they mean to you.

It takes a lifetime to find and keep good friends, but only takes a second to destroy a friendship.

Axe.

Currently Listening To: Giving Up by Donny Hathaway

LEAVING ATLANTA...












...and spent a little time reflecting. It ain't been half bad. And I may even return; then again, I may not. Regardless, there have been lessons learned here.

LOOKS CAN BE DECEIVING
If you drive past Edgewood Ave., near Grady Hospital and across from the Auburn Market, there doesn't appear to be much except a bunch of hole in the wall buildings. Closer examination and you'll see the Harlem Bar, a retro joint that has it going on. Slamming food (I suggest the Blackened Catfish with Shrimp), bumping music and throwback movies on the wall (The Wiz, Let's Do It Again, Coffy). On a Saturday or Friday night getting a table is impossible, but worth the wait.

SAY IT LOUD
Always been an expressive person and I have lived in a couple of different places in the South. But in Atlanta, people really say what's on their mind. Sure, there is a helping of Southern politeness in the delivery, but if folk have issue with you, they are going to let you know. And they don't stutter, either.

LOOK OUT FOR NUMBER ONE
While it bothered me that more often than not that while walking through the streets of the A-T-L, I would be hassled by homeless people, I never wished them ill-will. So it was quite heartbreaking for me the day that the Atlanta City Council voted to ban panhandling in the city limits. Stuff happens, and there but for the Grace of God goes anyone: becoming homeless could happen to ANYBODY. The City Council's decision was definitely a dark day for those of us with a conscious and even darker for those without a place to lay their head that night.

THE LIBRARY IS YOUR FRIEND
Although I resided outside the city the limits, I learned about two years after moving to Georgia that an Atlanta Fulton County Public Library card had the potential to be the passport to adventures beyond my wildest dreams...well, not quite, but it was pretty close during those weekends with inclimate weather and EVERYTHING was closed.

BE YOURSELF
And no one will ever be able to dislike you for it...maybe; depends on what kind of person you are. Still, one of the greatest examples of "doing the damn thing regardless," and never putting on airs has got to be Mayor Shirley Franklin. After Bill Campbell left office in shame, and more importantly, with the city $71 million in debt, one would have thought that Her Honor would not only be able to turn things around; but Mayor Franklin has become one of the most revered, popular people in her position. In April 2005, Time Magazine named her one of the Five Best Big-City Mayors in America. Had the pleasure of meeting the Mayor on a couple of different functions and even saw her decked out in jeans and a baseball cap at one of the local movie houses. She is "real cool peoples" and if I could ever accomplish a third of what she has done, I would be most pleased.

KEEP THE FAITH
Yeah, things are bad all over: war, crime, poverty, illness...the list goes on. But I never met a true Atlantan, who dislikes being from Atlanta. Despite the tons of Nu Yawkers and other Nawtheners moving in everyday, the crazy traffic, some serious historical hiccups and such (the flag fiasco, Atlanta Child Murders, Centennial Park bombing, Runaway Bride, Super Bowl murders, floods, nasty unseasonable ice storms), people who love Atlanta are proud and never waiver. No matter how much crappy stuff happens, true Atlantans believe in their city and that is it a great place to live.



I do not debate that Atlanta's a nice place to chill. However, I am very sure I cannot live here at this point in my life...maybe later. Still, I am taking that sense of unconditional loyalty and pride with me (no, I am not stealing; just borrowing). Wherever I land, I hope the Atlantan faith in who I am and where I come from--Bed-Sty, Do or Die, by way of Greensoboro, NC, home of North Carolina A & T State University (a.k.a., Aggieland), stays with me.


Axe.


Currently Listening To: Fly Like A Bird by Mariah Carey, Cristo Redentor by David Sanborn

JUST (DON’T) DO IT

Was reading an comment online for a co-worker’s recent column on Democrats. In a nutshell, the column details that the Democrats ain’t got it and probably will never have it again. In case you are wondering what “it” is, check out the article because I do not want to give poor summarization of my colleague’s writings: Hello, any Democrats out there? However, the comments regarding the column gave me serious cause to pause. The commentator states that they do not like any of the candidates for the Georgia Gubernatorial race. So, they will put the late Coretta Scott King as a write-in. Hmm…

“What an idiot,” I thought, laughing. Yet, I, too, have to admit that I am not at all happy with any of the candidates. Proudly, Unaffiliated, I am (since 1995). Also, very unsure of who to vote for this time around. There has been a minimal amount of mud-slinging and some serious backtracking on previous “firm beliefs.” And although every voter will never truly be 100% pleased with whom they pick on Election Day, I am still hurt by the results of the last major election in November 2004.

I was literally sick for at least two days afterwards. It was like my heart had been broken by an infinite amount of betrayal or deceit, and consequently caused immeasurable pain that I could feel, but could not see or actually touch. This hurt was not caused by love for anybody or anything. My hopes and dreams had been placed in a system—democracy—and I was more disappointed than I had ever been in my life. It was worse than finding out that there is no Santa Claus. I was not the only one, either; as I talked to fellow voters, there were others who expressed that they, too, felt cheated, or a lack of validation and as if they vote did not count.

As I pondered over my emotional and spiritual ill state of being in November 2004, the thought of writing in Mrs. King’s name in the spot next to Governor became ever so tempting. Tempting; interesting word. It is another word for attractive, or alluring. Fascinating; exciting. Not boring.

But after more time to reflect, and watching a few African-American icons on television this weekend, a word comes to mind that stops me cold: responsible. My ancestors paid for my right to vote with their blood, sweat, and some even their lives. I now have, “it.” And the “it” here simply means the right to vote. Although America’s leaders are shady and downright scandalous, that does not excuse me from doing the right thing. I must act responsibly with my vote, even if afterwards, I feel it did not count. Maybe one day I will feel that it did. Until then, I must exercise my right, but not do so recklessly or carelessly. I will treat my vote as if it were a piece of inheritance that I will hand down to my children, and that they will give to their children and so on. Axe (*pronounced Ah-shay).