To Love A Man

One of my best friends turns 49 in a month. I turn 27 two weeks later. You might have heard me say it before but my parents are my best friends. And my Dad...well my Dad is the only Man whom I ever really loved. This might seem overly sentimental, but I am a Cancer by Zodiac. We wear our emotions on our sleeves. We are unpredictable, pleasing, sensitive, and have an uncanny knack for creating beauty within chaos. I like to think that I am my Dad's beauty. One of his greatest accomplishments. One of his closest friends. By the time you read this Dad I will have teared up at at least 5 or 6 television shows or movies that depict a Father and his Son; because I realize I took having you in my life for granted for years.

I feel the need to cry, not out of sadness or weaknesses, but in humility. I am humbled how I could be made in God's image, but shaped in your eyes. It is that reverence that fills me with Joy. Joy I found hard putting into words, so hard that my eyes cloud up with unfulfilled exaltation.

Growing up my father wasn't at every school concert, football game, awards ceremonies. But he was around. His presence and support expressed daily. But not with a "go get'em Tiger" and punch on the arm, my father strove to make conceivable the very essence of my accomplishment was further proof that I could do more. That "B" could be an "A". That I was of age to drive, but needed to learn to maintenance. He drove, moved, pushed, and made me question would there ever be anything I could do to make him completely happy. I didn't realize until years later that he was always happy. But what agitated him was that I was okay with being good, when he recognized that I could be great. I realized years later he had protected me, provided, molded me, then polished me to ensure that I shined from that point forward.

I was like him. To hear him tell it I was a better version. I had succeeded in becoming the man he wanted me to be. Still with shortcomings and sometimes reluctance for parental advice, I found a friend. In a Dad that I had fought for years. He was always my friend. But didn't have time to be a friend. He had responsibilities that included daily guiding two young Black boys lives.

He is a Cancer by Zodiac as well. He taught me stoicism. To guard my emotions to those that would harm me. He taught me Responsibility. That to shirk it would only delay its arrival. Taught me acceptance.

My father this past Christmas told me that he loved me. That no matter what I did in life he would still love me. That his acceptance wasn't needed anymore. That the fact that I still sought it in all things that I do was humbling. That he wished he was as talented as I was when he was my age. That he was proud of me. Had been for years. And that there wasn't much that I could do to tarnish that. That is why I tear up. I can say I love a man that loves me. Without condition. And I may not say it every time I hang up the phone but know that I will always look towards you. Seek your council. Be your College Basketball buddy. And talk shit during the football season. I will try to impress you and your friends. Even when you tell me not. And if I am half the Dad that you are to me. Well my kids will have been given one of the greatest gifts in the world.

I Love you Dad.
Happy Father's Day
(early)

PB & J

I've never liked living off Peanut Butter snacks.
But it's funny how Jelly always seems to fill me up.
I hear how he speaks about you.
And I remember I used to say those things.
But I sounded more sincere.
Meant it more when you were here.
Wanted to fly you to the Moon
Or at least to the 2nd star on the right.
But lofty ambition and secret omissions
Sealed our Peter Pan Jar.
I'm a Smucker.
Jammed up over a condiment I felt was stickier more than sweet.
It may not mean much to you but what was a Jiffy in your eyes
Still sticks to the roof of my mouth.

I really never liked Peanut Butter situations.
But know he wouldn't crush a Grape in a fruit fight.
And I want to tear his crust off
Thinking about his spoon stirring you.
As the Jelly spreads over the surface that I used to eat from.
We've reached a Concord and I respect your relationship.
I don't even venture down that aisle called memory lane.
You've made it clear that in the matter of Love & War...
Well War can be so cold.

As my heart has frozen over
Only noticeable by the Crunchy sound of Chunky heels
Echoing off grocery store shelves
A Monkey wrench I want to throw or maybe a tantrum.
All to be as full as you made me.
So no the grass isn't greener on the other side
There is just Envy.
And in my fallout shelter no more Peanut Butter
Everything's...Empty.
So I sit and watch as all this Jelly tries to tempt me.

Irregular

He made me different.
Decided that normalcy would only make me complacent.
Unaware of how life makes miracles and murders.
He made me a water sign.
So that my journey would be heralded with crests and valleys
Give way by high and low tides.
Handicapped by the fluidity of emotions and stoicism of events.
He made me confused so that understanding would be a choice
So that the unappreciated nuances of the world would be examined closer.
Darkness brought to light.
He made me an insomniac to realize that in the hours of silence
A pen scratching the surface of sheets still sounds.
He made me a packaged collarless t-shirt
To be missed by handlers
Bundled up and sold to the world.
To climb off the store shelf into a basket; brought home
Only to find that their newest purchase needs to returned.
Retagged.
And labeled Irregular.

S.S.S.

Stood up I somberly sit
Seeking solace in shelled, shadowed souls called homo-sapiens.
Surely sober selections should birth smarter results.
I sulk.
Seeing that such solutions aren’t so easily solved.
This story sauced in alliteration sings of solitude.
Loneliness.
In search of sharing some time.
Seconds unseen by sun dials
Darkness unscathed by solar storms.
Except scenes of others smitten with Spring love.
Newness.
Stepping softly in silence slyly feigning innocence.
So cautious not to sully ones reputations.
Until suddenly Summer sets a sizzle smoldering screaming Sex.
Shawls and sweaters shed to solicit scantily sewn straps.
Stripping so you see the shape, size, each rise and fall as you sigh.
To smell the scent that sticky situations like this seep into sheets.
The sensation of stirring until your body hums
Swells with a song of Doe Ray Me Fa Soooo…
Slow rolls in silk or satin sounding sweet until
Smeared make-up shows scars.
Exposed.
Vulnerable, susceptible to sorrow, scared.
You say see you soon.
Avoiding shifty side glances.
Searching for shirts, sock, shoes.
Steeling away whatever split-second signs of serenity.
Separating feeling from adrenaline and serotonin.
Seconds turn Spring to September.
A cycle of see, salutations, sex, so long.
Smothering any sense of security in seeing your smile.
Suitcases sit by stairs.
Preparing to step through looking glass.
Lamenting at footprints left in the sand.
Surface deep you splash trying to save what has already succumbed to sickness.
Sputtering, sinking, I’ve already forgotten you.
Sand shifts. Footprints scatter.
Solids now broken.
Simply said this was not that serious.
Not a sonnet rising and falling with iambic pentameter.
A selective soliloquy sold with strands of sarcasm.
Shit. Our start and finish was synonymous.
Stop looking for single reasons.
Signs.
This ship has sailed.
No Dear John.

Sincerely
Signed
Staats

America Unleashed

I heard the funniest comment the other day. I called a friend to chit-chat and they said, "Can I call you back I am on a long distance call." This may not be so strange to you. But I called a cell phone. Of a friend that was out-of-state. And it made me laugh. My Mom used to say that was the reason why she didn't click over when she had another call, because she was a long distance call, which she was paying more for.

Second funny thing. I got asked why didn't I have a house phone. I replied because I didn't need another unnecessary bill. I use my cell phone as personal computer, GPS, music player, digital camera, calculator, notepad, calendar, and sometimes to make phone calls. I am in all senses of the word tethered to my technology. How many of us aren't? If you are reading this put your hands down.

We are findable, transparent, stereotypical, quotable, and virtually addicted to the leashes that keep us connected to each other. I am not excited for this advancement in technology. It reminds me of the movie Crash and Demolition Man. Don Cheadle says in Crash, "We're always behind this metal and glass...I think we miss that touch so much that we CRASH into each other just to feel something." And in Demolition Man the characters no longer touch during intimate moments, everything is experienced through sensory machines.

When was the last time you sent a loved one a hand written letter? Or you called friends and family to let them know you had made it to a destination safely. Little things like respecting a person's character and not interrupting them at 2am with text messages that only say "R U up?" Niceties are no longer extended. Facebook invades our personal lives so much that I do not look forward to my 10 year reunion. I am greeted by smiling faces, marriage announcements, bridal showers, baby's births, and a constant barrage of daily updates from people that I haven't seen since I picked up my diploma back in Baltimore.




Some say it's a plus. But people are supposed to fade from your peripheral for a reason. They are not meant to have access to your life's ambitions, your joys, sorrows, all that you would share with only people who know your middle name. Now for business purposes network away. But I am not narcissistic enough to think that my life is that important to other people or even entertaining enough for you to "follow" my every move. Or that I would want to update you every time I wiped my ass while I was fighting off Swine Flu.




I just would like to give the excuse one day that "sorry I missed your call I was out of town/out the house/out of my mind". And that be reason enough for not calling you. Texting you. Twitting you. Adding you. Sending you requests. Sharing songs/video/music. I just would like some anominity that life is supposed to afford you. We have to realize that our next generation of leaders will have belonged to some internet community, that unless they know at age 13 they want to be President there will be images of them that people will refer to to assassinate their character with just a right-click and save.





I've driven back home after getting to work because I left my cell phone. Felt like I had walked out of the house without pants on. We will never be unleashed. But maybe we can give ourselves a little more personal space from prying eyes and scrolling screens.

Salvation

One night while watching television I felt a moment of enlightenment. Not something profound, self-evaluating, but undeniably spiritual. I was watching Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles (yes I am a nerd) and the main character John Connor asks his Uncle what he would be like in the future. And I began to wonder what if would be like to know who or what you are to become in the future. Especially if the man/woman you are to become will be herald as the Saviour of Man. Imagine the pressure. Imagine the task set ahead of you second guessing your actions, trying to be something that everyone thinks you should be. Now before this becomes a piece of "living your life for you and not what other people think", I realized ironically that this story sounded very familiar.




If you have seen any of the Terminator movies this should be easy to connect the dots.

Dot 1: John Connor
Dot 2: End of the World
Dot 3: Mother impregnated by a man that hasn't been born yet
Dot 4: Saviour of Man
Dot 5: One "man" manages to rise from the ashes to put right what is wrong with the world.



Recognize the story. For you that need a better picture.

Dot 1: JC. (Jesus Christ)
Dot 2: The Apocolypse
Dot 3: The Virgin Mary
Dot 4: Son of God
Dot 5: Revelations

You could only imagine the joy I felt in this story. That something sown so deep in cinema was a road map to Faith.

Belief.


Salvation.


Now I am far from any Saint. Nor do I prescribe to much of organized religion (although I still consider myself Christian). And before zealots tear this piece to pieces we have to realize that all people do not have the same walk with God. That His path is different for all of us. That faith is defined in believing without seeing. That salvation comes only to those that welcome it. The correlation isn't that difficult to make.

Death. Famine. Destruction by fire. End of Days. Judgement Day. Salvation. The last two being actual subtitles taken from the Terminator movies.

We all know the story of Jesus as told by the Bible. We have listened to or tried to sweep under the rug the thought of Jesus Christ being not the Son of God but a man who lived and died. I believe that the story is blended. I think the same way that God chose men to spread His word the same could have been done in the story of Jesus. That this man had such a relationship with God that it was as if God lived in him. Does that make him more human yes. Does that make him any less of a Messiah to people no. I feel that with religion its one way or the other. That there does not exist room for doubt. None of know for sure. And I don't want to use this piece to start a huge debate on Church and Religion (two different things).

All I wanted to point out is that our purpose is not always foretold. That our future is not written in stone. But if...just if...you were told that you would be the beginning and the end. That you would lead millions. Save countless others. Do great work. Perform miracles. Bring Heaven to Earth. Create paradise. Rise against the Dark and Evil in the world. How would you handle the pressure? Would you buckle? Would you strive to be the best man or woman you could be one day at a time? Would you make mistakes? What would you want your legacy to be? That you were infalliable? That you were untouchable? Would you want people to model themselves after your reality or your perception? How would you change your story so that everyone found Salvation?






(some) Churches should focus on changing their message to Salvation...it's for everyone. Rather than casting the first stone. Let he who is without sin...

The Day The World Stood Still

The irony of November 4th will always remain in my mind. On this day in the 2008th year After Christ; 332 years after the Declaration of Independence was signed and our governing body was officially created; an African-American man became President of the United States. Ironic, I say because it wasn't your usual definition of African-American. Majority of African-Americans (traditional) are not able to trace their heritage to their ancestors in Africa. We were not given the option to hold to our identity, to our history, to help shape a future steeped in remembrance. Nothing to help us weather the 400 year storm that would be the enslavement of Africans. I find it apropos that the first President of color be the son of a Kenyan father and Caucasian mother. A marriage if you will, of the quintessential cornerstone of the United States embodied. A nation built on the backs of Africans, and the misguided directives of newly declared independent Anglo-Saxons.

Our President is bi-racial. He is a color that I identify with on a personal level. He is articulate. He is an American that I am proud to say is someone I support. Not all of his policies but his ideologies. Barack Obama made the world stand still today. And because I was up at 5:30am I too helped changed the world today. No matter what happens or doesn't happen the United States changed today. The last color barrier has been shattered (+5% win is shattering in case you didn't know).

Now color withstanding a lot of work must be done. We all know that time is something that will tell, but patience and perseverance is what our President asks of us. "With great power comes great expectation." And no greater tasks exists then making sure that those millions of people that voted today help do their part in continuing to contribute and sway politics on all sides. Today it truly is our voice that was heard.

Michelle Obama mentioned that we can no longer live in fear of our decisions. I don't know if it is that fear that gives me chills as I listened to Obama's acceptance speech. That this man holds the dreams and hopes of so many, yet as shown from earlier attempts, his life is now and will always be in danger as not just the President of the United States but as a African-American man. The Plexiglass wall that shielded President Obama could not enclose thoughts of how depraved this world can be. That I don't want another negative blemish on the face of America. I do not want to relive my parents anguish of the assassination of MLK, JFK, or even my own personal association of seeing the World Trade Center Towers taken down. Those days of the world standing still are over.

President Obama is here! Let us rejoice! Seeing him on stage reminds me of the movie Deep Impact. When Morgan Freeman's Presidential portrayal gave his speech of rebuilding, I couldn't help but again be reminded of the irony of tonight's address. It was the last few minutes of a great epic movie. Where the American spirit perseveres, thrives, succeeds, even in the face of imminent disaster. His eloquence in his speech brought tears to eyes. The story of Ann Nixon who President Obama's speech included is History. HIS STORY. OUR STORY. The progress that we have made. That we are making. And that we will continue to make. So stand still as the credits roll. Take in the moment that we get to live in today. That story will forever be embedded in the fabric of this nation and this world. Listen to the music play, the faces of the Obama family, the Biden family, the supporters, the parties in the streets, the lines of people voting, the speeches, the parodies, the moment in 2004 where a Keynote Address speaker transitioned from Junior Senator to Leader of the Freeworld. Listen as African ancestors finally get to rest in peace. Truly. Stand still. And realize the world too is standing. Waiting for change.

Motivation

At the gym last week I recognized there are different things that motivate people. Some are self-motivated. As if we can see what we look like while panting on treadmill at level 5 we will agree that we are out of shape and that we never want to look like that person in the mirror again. Others get amped up by the After Pictures. That is what I call the gym bunnies or muscle dudes walking around with the least amount of workout attire allowable. They represent what we want to look like, areas that we need to work on, a visual message of you can look like me if you keep working out. What I would like to come with After Pictures (AP) are bios and Before Pictures (BP). Like if an AP used to be 50lbs overweight and now has 3% body fat I am going to be on every machine that they get on. Maybe not as long or as heavy but that's motivation to some.

I like to be the best. At everything. Or at least better then most people. The air of competition drives me most of the time. Perfect example: I was at the gym running on the treadmill and my goal was to consistently run for 5 miles in less then an hour. I do it about three times a week. Well today Gym Bunny Suzie (the name I came up with her in my head) gets on the treadmill next to me. Needless to say she cranks it up to 8. Blonde hair, little chest, and even smaller butt start bouncing on the machine. I like to keep my towel over the time so that I can't tell how far I have to go or how many minutes I have been running. Time for me is not motivation. But Suzie is just running along. And not even sweating. Soon I look over at her digital reading and she has caught up with me. Well not to be outdone I cranked up the juice on my treadmill. Now I never noticed Suzie look over at my progress or dripping sweat everywhere or even acknowledge that I had non-verbally entered her into my track and field competition but she beat my ass. Like Jamaica versus the US. What I didn't realize was during our race I was breathing right, swinging my arms, and pacing my steps that I ended up burning more calories and finishing my 5 miles just under 50 minutes. MOTIVATION!

So what motivates you? A word of encouragement? Seeing someone do better than you? A set goal? I believe we should make realistic goals, but don't but time stamps on them. Especially when they concern physical activity. Do enough to make it noticeable to you. So when someone does notice it. You can tell them you should have seen your Before Picture.

JUST IN

Just IN! Just IN! Just IN!

Some of you don't know it but I loved a man.

I loved a brother.

Not in love, like everythng is all happy and gay.

No; love like there isn't anything in this world I wouldn't do for you love.

Just IN...the world doesn't hold it's wonder for me without you.

Just IN...13 is an unlucky number

22 is unforgettable

And 19 lifetimes can't replace this one.

Just IN...I want to have a son.

A little boy with a big-head and a bigger heart so that I can call him by your name.

Justin; my godbrother; brother in GOD; I looked up to you.

And days don't pass without me still looking up.

Just IN...forward progress with unknown steps is scary.

I can't do this alone.

We can't do this alone.

So GOD if you could spare him for a little while to help us heal

I'll be waiting at the airport by new arrivals looking for his flight to say JUST IN.

In Memory of

Justin A. Winstead

November 19, 1982 - July 13, 2004

Happy Secretary's Day (Belated)

Is it a general requirement for all secretaries, receptionists, and administrative assistants to be mean and spiteful. You know the kind that won't call to the back to find out if you had an appointment. If it isn't in their books you don't matter. The same ones that will make you wait in the doctors office and tell you he will be right with you. Stop lying. Just say he is busy, backed up, eating lunch, doing the other receptionist, and will be out in a while.

They huff and puff on the phone when you ask them to give the party you are trying to reach a message. It's your job like it or not. Stop taking shit out on people so damn early in the morning. You can't be that pissed off at 8am. And if you are fake it. Stop inflicting your infectious, hateful demeanor on those you encounter throughout the day. Oh, and you know you aren't busy at your desk. We know you are emailing your coworker down the hall about America's Next Top Model or where you want to eat for lunch.

I know your job is important. I am not trying to take that away from any of you. Without you you could potentially stop the flow of an office's whole day. Just apply a little bedside manner. Smile when I come through the door. Do not scowl and tell me to have a seat before I even tell you what I am here for. No one ever gets promoted from administrative assistant to CEO. Be nice. It goes a long way.

50 First Dates

Needless to say I'm picky when it comes to dating. So when you ask what I like I can't give you just one answer to sum it up. That does not mean I am indecisive. I've just got my standards as well as stoplights, warning signs, and baggage claim checks that must be reviewed. But I'm thinking I might need to advise my advisors that my life of speed dating is making me wary.

Potential candidates must be: Short kind of tall; slim kind of thick; brown kind of yellow; smart kind of intelligent (no variance there).

Not very hard I think. Overall I am tired of starting over. As every different date I go on I answer the same questions. Imagine how many times I get asked when is your birthday? Favorite Food? Where I am originally from? What I'm looking for in this dating scene? What movie should we see? Restaurant to eat? Where to pick you up or meet? My place or yours?

I feel like I should be submitting a cover letter with resume. Because I am sick of interviewing for a job that I sometimes don't want or that you think I am not qualified enough for. Ultimately I just want someone to share my day with. I'm looking forward to second dates, third trips to your favorite vacation spots. Being recognized by your favorite cousin at their wedding. You coming through my bedroom door a set of keys in your hand because you have it like that. No longer screening phone calls from dates gone awry who didn't get the message that they have been replaced. Not even replaced a 1st date means that further follow-up information was needed before meeting with other applicants.

I've made compromises lowering my bar thinking it might be me. Only to wonder if I can fit out the window in the bathroom. Get my friend to call with an "emergency". Or to slide my arm from under your head without waking you up. No one likes being rejected. And others don't know how to reject respectively.

You are not my type. I'm looking for someone (fill in the blank). Oh my friend said you looked different. I have no job. I live with my mama. Do you have money to pay for your half? I'm not exactly single. I'm gay.

Some extremes are not worth exploring. But ultimately how creative do you think I am to come up with 50 Original First Dates? How many first times do I have to see the same movie? Add some explanation next to your name in my phone so that I know which _____ I am calling? How many times do I have to wake up every morning and meet someone new?


Here's to 51.


To the comments that might come or not. Often we say date and meaning something else. It's like the word love. It's up to interpretation. For someone a date is a movie. A drink. Dinner. Some combinations of all three and many other variations. To others a date is a hookup. Or a mutual understanding between two that you are interested in repeating any of these actions. It is not a relationship. Nor does one date entitle you to anything other then potentially a second date. And more common then not people date more then one person at one time. Hopefully you are not on date number 5 with three different people, but hey if you have the time do you. It's called considering your options. I have realized that I am becoming a serial dater. That's coming to an end. I read this line in response to a different topic but it still holds relevance.

"I wonder if the core of the problem is that in our fear that we'll never find anyone and be lonely for the rest of our lives, we become too active in a process in which we should be more laid back, patient and passive."

Here is to a passive Staats. So when 51 does show up, maybe some of the cynicism will have ebbed away. Or at least he will have different questions to ask.

Transparency

Allow me to be naked; stripped down if you will.
Unable to say what's on my mind I want you to witness me...complete transparency.
I'm a little out of practice,
A little out of shape
So please excuse the nudity.
Because this feeling that I shouldn't be feeling...
Is
This
Love
?

'Before I lock my love away, excuse me let me testify...You've accused me of a, you've accused me of a...'

You've accused me of a crime that I readily admit to.
But admonishment does not beget absolution.
My guilty plea is me telling you I would do it again.
Don't let me off on a technicality
Because my non-conviction would result in a Doubly Jeopardy.
I'll take Infidelity for $1000 Alex.
My wager everything that I don't have.
Just humbly hoping that by barterng my love
You can help make it valuable again
And not clear.
Transparently so.
Lit up by an overhead projector.
With words written on it.
Magnified.
Transposed for all to see.

'Before you lock my love away...'

Excuse me while I am transparent.



© April 2008
Staats

Top 10: Are You a Jump Off?

A la David Lettermen's Top Ten Reasons...

Was talking with some friends and the question came up what constitutes a jump off? Or what are some signs that you aren't really dating someone you are just their sex partner? And that is basically the definition of a

JUMP OFF (adj.) : to be only a sexual object. (see also, One Night Stand, Cut Buddy, BUDDY, etc.)



The Top 10 signs that you are/might have been/or are currently someones jump off...

10. All the pictures in their place are turned down when you come over.
9. If you don't know their last name.
8. If every "date" has been at your house and involves alcohol.
7. If they are always have naked when you come over, or you don't wear underwear when you go out.
6. You haven't met any of their friends or family and you've been "dating" for over six months.
5. There are multiple toothbrushes in the bathroom and none of them are yours.
4. They refer to your "dating" situation as "just kicking it", or "oh we are just cool".
3. If you have never spent the night.
2. If they only call you or return your phone calls after 12am and before 6am.

And the #1 sign you you are a jump off is...

1. You aren't bothered by the empty condom wrappers in the trash can when you come over.

All That Glitters...

IS NOT GOLD!!!!

Had to put that part in caps. I was having a conversation with a friend the other day about a woman he had hooked up with. Now he was telling me that she was so fine, and physically all that he wanted in a woman. He had been lusting over her for a long time and finally got the opportunity to sleep with her. Well it came at a very inconvenient time because it snowed up here in the Northeast the other day. And of course that was the night that she wanted him to come over. So with about 4 inches of snow already on the ground he hopped in his coupe (bad car in the snow) and made the normal 15 minute trip in about 40 minutes. After some awkwardness they proceeded to have sex. And within moments it was over. For her. The word my boy used to describe it was WACK. He said he has gotten more excitement with himself. The young lady wanted him to stay the night and wait for the snow plows. He said it would be fine that he would just retrace his tracks. I can't help but laughing as I type it, because life is set up with many tales like this. Not as sexual but in general.

Everything in life that glitters is not gold. Often we spend so much time putting someone on a pedestal that they are undeserving of. Their outward representative looks so enticing that we often lose temporary sense and do something that we wouldn't normally do or we are just so excited at the opportunity that we through caution into the wind. What looks too good to be true usually is. Me and my boy talked about mediocrity isn't necessarily the answer, but that most of our basic needs can be taken care of it. Some of us have had sexual encounters, hookups, one night stands with people that we would never want to be see out with. But they might take care of another need really well. Not saying to live in that mediocrity but perfection doesn't exist. No one gets all they want off of their physical/mental checklist when dating. So beware of all that glitters. FOOL'S GOLD IS AROUND IN ABUNDANCE.

F@#! That Valentine

If you are spending your money today on flowers, cards, and candy for the first time for your boo...you are officially a loser. And I am laughing at you while you try to bargain your way into a reservation at my restaurant. Because maybe you were unaware that its open 362 other days out the year. So learn to express your love for someone every day and not just Valentine's Day. It's not a holiday. It's Hallmark's Day. And I am not jealous of anyone. I'm very content with my choice of not celebrating something I think is so mundane. Valentine's Day to me is trendy, and I am the last person you will see doing the same thing that someone else is doing.

So fellas who have succumbed to the monotony of February 14th be prepared to buy the bouquets of flowers, chocolate covered whatevers, shrimp cocktail, lobster tails, and the bottle of wine...all to find out you still aren't getting any at the end of the night.

And ladies be content with your man for what he does for you not for what you think he should be doing, so what your coworker got Callililles delivered to the job, and your homegirl got a horse and carriage ride, be happy that someone wakes up and says I love you. And it's not just your day either so get him something too. Ungrateful asses.

This is me every year. So don't think this is the cause of anything. Most of my friends know I haven't done anything for this faux holiday for years. It's just how I get enjoyment from it. Yes I believe in love. I just don't believe one day means I love you more then the last. If you want to contact me do you. I am out spreading my discourse and cynicism to the masses.

In the immortal bridge from Andre 3000's album The Love Below and the song "Happy Valentine's Day"...

F@#! That Valentine's, F@#! That, F@#! That Valentine, F@#! That Valentine's Day...