Rich Dad, No Dad

The other day my boss gave me a ride home from work. Very kind of him especially since I turned him down the first time. Not because I didn't want the ride but because after work hours, I cannot be held responsible for the shit I say. Off the clock means off the mothafucking wall. But alas, I took the ride.

Long story short, we ended up having an hour long conversation in front of my house. A great one at that. A "I'm going to hire you" conversation. But the meat of the conversation was not in me setting up a future job oppurtunity but when we talked about growing up.

Eventually it got to the conversation about how we both grew up poor and didn't know and while we were having this discussion, I thought about my best white friends when I was growing up.

Your're thinking "what was said in that conversation that made you think about that?" And my response is growing up poor. Allow me to make the correlation through a short story.

You see, before I was a poor black kid who ain't have shit, I was just a kid. Teasing girls, eating boogers, you know, that whole shabang. And as luck would have it, it would be my white friends who led me to the discovery of my epic poor... ness.

Two of my best white friends from elementary school Nick (an EYE-talian) and Joe (the Jew) showed me what it was like to not have shit. They did this by having more shit than I had ever seen in my life. And it wasn't on purpose. My white friends always shared with me what they had and it was awesome.

Lunchables (the Pizza ones, not just the ham and cheese), GoGurt, Chex Mix, Fluff. Yes, all of these things that my parental units didn't even know existed let alone deny me of.

Do you remember what it was like to not have a home computer, because I do. I remember because when I went to Joey's house for a playdate in 5th grade, it was the first time I had seen a computer outside of that Mac that only had Oregon trail and that Carmen San Diego game in the special ed. classroom.

**If you don't know what a play date is, you didn't grow up with white people, I can tell**
**If you never played Oregon trail, who ARE you?"

And at this particular play date, the first time I went over to his house, I learned that I was poor. This may be a familiar incident to some of you, the first time you learned you ain't have shit.

My friend Joe had all the latest video game systems (N64 was the latest at the tine) while I was still on the first Play Station, that I didn't get that until it was 2 years old. I was a back logged system kid. I got the PS2 right before the PS3 came out. When everyone was getting Game Cube, I was burning games to play on my Sega DeramCast. (Oh, y'all ain't know you could copy and burn games for that huh, I knew in 6th grade.)

Only FOUR steps? And it's forever? Well, in that case I'll take TWO!

**Back to the ignorance**

So now I know I'm poor, and I know I'm black. So basically what I'm trying to say is I'm poor AND black.

Is that Good?

Well...

Basically...

...


Yes.

Now, I bet you thought I was going to say NO.

NOPE. Not doing it.

You see, it's great to know your poor because one of those things you can change. And being black is the business. Yall know that. Sheeeeit, EVERYBODY wants to be black (but don't nobody wanna BE black ya' know?). The point is, when I saw that I was poor and later black (but that dope fiends is another story), I knew I wanted more than being poor. And the black thing was cool. I mean, even back then, I knew that the white women wanted us.

And as long as white women wanted ME, I was cool.

But seriously, learning what I did not have was just as much fun as learning what I did. So we couldn't have pets in our apartment, that's cool. The roaches and mice probably wouldn't like it anyway. And So what if I couldn't get the newest systems, that just gave me the opportunity to wax nostalgic at an early age. Besides, I ain't know. And so what I didn't have a backyard...well, actually, there was no benefit to not having a backyard that I can think about.

I'm just happy through all of that, I was able to grow up into the incredible human being I am today.

Amen.

But then I graduated from college...

And I was right back to being poor again.

And I ain't got shit... Mannnn...

 Fuck being poor.

Yard Sales and Our FAILS...

I did not grow up in New York City. But, does that make me better than those of you who did? Yes, of course it does. It also means I've seen things a few of you haven't.For instance, have any of you ever been to a yard sale where you could buy a young pig AND a Sega Dreamcast? 


Trust me, it's a beautiful thing.

How does that saying go? "One man's trash is another man's treasure." Well, yard sales are kind of like that. Only, it would probably more like it if the saying went, "One man's trash is another man's thing he'll gladly buy if it's less than 5 bucks."

Now that's just yard SALES, there is actually something else out there even better than a yard sales. That thing, is what I like to call the "yall better grab this shit now because I'm getting rid of it" yard GIVEAWAYS. And what kind of things do you find here? Well, it can be any kind of thing. But more than likely it's things like:

Wheels and tires (who could have known spinning rims would go out of style)

Furniture (what's wrong with it? Who knows! Why should you pick it up? Possibly because you have some kind of secret bedbug fetish. Or maybe you've really been trying to upgrade your living room space. What better way to do that then introducing your place to an exciting new mystery smell!)

Puppies/Kittens (Yes, you can get a young dog or cat for free. Or, you can spend an exorbitant amount of money on a "pure bred" animal that will never be in any kind of dog/cat show - but will still habitually disrespect you and your property while you provide it with free food and shelter.)

This is just a side note, it's about to be a cold world for some of these dudes trying to grow long hair now that it's back in style. Especially when they find out it aint that easy. I mean it's plenty long-haired ladies out here that haven't quite figured this one out. Like this lady walking next to me with the, what I can only assume is, bangs glued directly unto her forehead. Definitely bout to see these "long hair don't hair" guys flipping through cosmo at your local beauty shop.

Welp... To each his own I say.

And then there's another thing thing you sometimes see left out for the scavenging masses. Books... Yea books.

*sad long exhaling sigh*

No one cares about them. A few good friends and I were out one fine autumn's eve and we happened upon a few books. Not just a few though but multiple bookcases worth of them. Standing demurely in some kind of sexy brothel line up across someone's front yard. Mind you, the time is just a little ways north or south of 8 o clock in the Post Meridian. These books have been outside ALL DAY. And nobody cared to give them a home. ALL DAY.

Why? Because people do not value knowledge. I mean, it wasn't always that way. Most of us grew up wanting to excel. Good grades? They were worthy of celebration. Spelling Bee champion? Salute! And what did we question? Everything.

So what happened?

Puberty happened. And with it also came our early tinkerings in social interaction, taboos, and mores. Our entire understanding of the world was  then turned on it's head. What do we want to do now? Fit in.  What do we celebrate? Beauty. What do we decry? Math. What do we question? Nothing.


We grew up in a world where most people were forged along the path of least resistance, and so we too began to yield at the unflinching hammer of mediocrity. Even if you didn't like it, you looked like you did and you certainly didn't do anything about it. 


Well, that's what you get, and it's more than certainly what you deserve.

Once upon a time Mike Tyson once said (yes, I'm quoting Mike Tyson, chill - I'm trying to create a sweeping motivational finale to finish this post with... Anyway... back to what I was saying.)

This Guy.

Mike Tyson once said, "Most revolutions are started by someone who read a book on revolution." Come on yall, if Mike can understand that knowledge is power, I'm more than inclined to believe the rest of us can too. 

So pick up a book you guys.

Then, read it.








P.S. If by some mythical chance Mike Tyson does read this blog I want to say that I'm a huge fan and that I meant no offense to you man. It's basically common knowledge that you're not that smart, walk it off you big baby.