Saggy Pants Live On

Fads are born and then they fade.  The only constant is the inventive mind.  Dyllon's Law

The style of having pants fall below the waist lives on.

I understand that it might have begun in prison since inmates are not allowed to have belts since they might hurt themselves and others.  You put this fact along with prison clothes that do not fit properly and you naturally have pants that are hanging below the waistline.  Years ago there was talk that one inmate’s pants hanging low was also a way to show other inmates that they were sexually available but for the sake of over-complicating this narrative, I’ll let that rest.

 

Other clothing styles have been started in prison and then reflected on the city streets such as wearing no shoestrings and one pants leg folded up, to name a few.  In terms of fashion, what seemed to happen next is that Black men and others brought this “style” back to the community. Because they identify so much with prison life, they wear it like a badge of honor.

Let’s say for the sake of argument that the pants hanging low fad did have its start with the prison population and move on.

Some will want to sport this style because they believe it will make them look tough or “gangsta”.  Others will swear that if you want to be “cool”, this is the way to go. 

 

When you listen to the young, you’d swear that styles and trend setting are inspired by them in their outcry to become independent.  I’m constantly amused at how quickly youth will scream about this.  They will say, “Older people just don’t understand.”  These same kids will then scream to their parents that they REEEALLY need to have that new pair of sneakers or that they will die if they don’t get that brand named jacket.  The fact that individuals in their teens and twenties are all wearing many of the same styles is simply an example of how they fall for marketing ploys.  There will always be some adult who has drawn up (or slightly changed) a style, mass produced it and then is making a mint.  This does not say to me that someone is “learning who they are.” It simply means that they are being a follower.  I did the same style following number when I was young and many adults still fall in that trap but I digress.

Style being put aside, we must understand that the purpose of clothing is to cover ourselves.  During hot weather, it makes sense that we would want to shed some garments but during the winter, it’s difficult to understand why your pants are hanging down.  It is cold you know.  Regardless, the style has been prevalent for quite a few winters and many have frozen their butts off.  Sorry for that one.

I feel that another bit of logic is lost when situations arise that the individual has to run or react in life’s ever changing situations.  If you’re in the middle of the street and have to move quickly, the last thing you should be doing is grabbing at your pants to pull them up.  You should just be running.  I know that this is an extreme example but I’ve seen enough guys pulling them up when the need arises to know that this particular style is just not natural.

There is no need to bring up the business world where this style is normally not accepted.  What I think is strange is how some will try to legislate, pass laws and even outlaw the wearing of pants hanging low.  It’s one thing when you are in a school environment and you know that you might be breaking a rule but it’s another to be on a public street and be stopped by cop and given a summons for public lewdness or indecent exposure. As illogical as the style might be, coming close to being arrested for it seems ridiculous.

I guess a lot of people don’t remember what happens when you tell a young person repeatedly not to do something.

The best way to deal with this style is to let logic take its course.  When enough brothers (and many others), get tired of tripping and falling, this too shall pass.

Like what you read and want to read more? Visit my website at EndlessPerceptions.com

Take Some Responsibility

You never know when you’re going to experience something that makes sense to you on a thoroughly deep level and changes things forever.   Always be on the lookout for unexpected life-lessons. 

 

I was about fifteen and I was in the movie theater watching “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.”  The guy playing Sidney Poitier’s father was on a tirade about how as a mailman, he had carried this heavy bag for long hours and then years,  in order to help Sidney to be the man that he had become.  His father demanded that Sidney should be appreciative of his efforts. 

 

Sidney interrupted his father and pointedly said “You did, what you were supposed to do.  I did not ask to be here. From the time that I was born, you owed me.  All that time that you carried that bag and all of your hard work, you did for yourself.”

Prior to hearing this speech, I truly believed that as the child, I was obligated to ensure that I made my parents happy because I owed them (I still felt that that was the right way to feel but I guess that’s part of being a good kid).  I suddenly understood that when a person makes a decision that a child might be conceived, the obligation begins with them and not the child.  But actually, I said all this in order to tell the story of the birth of my first daughter.

Towards the end of the nine months, I was frequently speaking to my daughter and calling her by her name often.  After all, it wasn’t too soon for her to get to know her daddy.

As she was being born, I could first see her hair.  I was touched and amazed.  Regardless of all the conversations she and I had had (which were a bit one sided), I still could not believe that she was really going to be here.  After she had been cleaned and had this little pink wool cap placed her head, a strange event occurred. 

There had been many not so easy times for my wife, so I felt that the least I could do was to make certain that she was comfortable.  In addition, I found that because of these trials, my devotion and love had grown stronger towards her over the past year but that's a story for another time.

Unexpectedly, the nurse then stated that she had to take my daughter to another area for whatever tests.   I felt as if I was torn.  I didn’t know whether to stay with my wife, as she lay there; dealing with the aftermath of birth or to go with my helpless daughter, to make certain that she was all right.  I stayed put in the delivery room but this would become one of the many marvelous life changing events which I could only attempt to get used to.  In the long run, I found that I could only try to keep up with the ever changing events of this new life.

I have always found it difficult to understand how any guy can just walk away from the life that he has helped to create.  Whether by accident (yeah, right) or planned out to the last detail, once a child is conceived, it’s the responsibility of both parents (especially the father) to ensure that the kid has some chance for a happy life.  


Like what you read and want to read more? Visit my website at EndlessPerceptions.com

Did I hear someone say Stephen Foster Projects?

The fifties and sixties in the projects were wonderful.  I still have fond memories of hot summer days and in particular, of that huge rectangular wading pool that had four to six sprayers. It was placed behind the playground fence, between the buildings 70 Lenox Avenue and 70 West 115th Street.  All us crazy kids had a lot of fun running and playing wild, back then.

Unfortunately, by today's standards, that pool would have been closed. The

entire thing was made out of cement.  All you had to do was fall and you could not avoid getting a bad scrape or worst.  These types of injuries would happen often.  Adults would scream “Stop running, stop running” but how could they expect kids to be careful.  Hot weather and cold water had been mixed together. Half the fun was learning the hard way, why you should listen to your parents. 

Which reminds me.  Throughout the other playgrounds in the complex, there were these rectangular platforms that looked like three-step pyramids but were flat on the top.   Of course, all of these "objects" were also made of cement. 

Please explain to me the rationale behind using a building material like cement for kids to play on.  Wouldn't that be considered dangerous?  Oh yeah, cement blocks could last for a life-time. The playground apparatus were made to be durable so that they would endure long after the kids were gone.  In other words, children were considered secondary in this formula.

When I about eight years old, my older brother and I were having a great time, jumping around on this insanely durable pyramid.  Then while we were playing tag, he had to go and slip and then fall chin-first. At first, I couldn't understand why he stood up crying and screaming murder.  Then I noticed that he was bleeding like a pig and adding new color textures to the worn stone slab.  We had to go to the emergency room so he could get about ten stitches. Talk about a ten year old screaming his brains out, while others held him down so he could get this minor surgery. The big baby!   

 

My point is, a lot of that fun has been lost, just for a little thing like child safety.  Don’t today’s adults realize that all the rubber matting that's placed under every fun obstacle only protects children from getting hurt.  It does nothing to build character. The scars we used to get during childhood, helped us to grow up faster, a little crooked maybe, but we grew up, regardless.

Like what you read and want to read more like it? Check out my books. They're both available at Outskirtspress.com, Amazon.com or Barnesandnoble.com. Also in the Kindle edition.

Also visit my website at:  EndlessPerceptions.com

Love-Loss Hurts Regardless of Age

Why can’t adults understand that heartbreak hurts just as bad at age eight, as it does at age forty-eight?

Let’s start with two thirty-five year olds (Grant and Faye) who have been together for about three years.  Let’s also say that Grant has just dumped Faye.

Faye feels as if her world is crumbling around her.  She can’t eat, she can’t sleep.  Her friend at work attempts to give her counsel but to no avail.  Her level of work is being affected by her depressed mood and she finds herself dragging through her work day  but holding out just enough not to lose her job.  After a few months, Faye finds a way to feel better about herself.   As time passes, the pain is not as bad.

It’s easy to say that after three years, these two must have been in love or at least Faye felt that way.  There certainly must have been promises, if not expectations, of marriage and children in their future.   It’s easy for anyone to understand that the person, who has had their heart broken, feels betrayed.  This and a list of other tragic emotions is real and runs deep through everyone's soul.   

Now let’s take two young people that are thirteen years old (Sam and Karen).  They've been together for about four months.  Karen has decided that she is more interested in a new guy who has started at the school.  She finally gets the courage to tell Sam that she doesn't want to be his girlfriend anymore.

Sam is angry.  When Sam first finds out, his friends have to hold him back so he wouldn't get into a physical fight with this new guy.  After a week, Sam still can’t eat and he can’t sleep.  His best friend tries to invite Sam to a few neighborhood parties and other activities to try to get him to change his mood but Sam prefers to stay in his room and mope.  Sam feels extremely self-conscious about how his friends view the break-up.  Finally, after three weeks, Sam finds a way to feel better about himself.  He has met a girl at softball practice and he thinks that he might be interested in her.  He finds that the pain of losing Karen is not as bad.

Usually, the older  the person is who listens to these stories, the more that person would feel that the teenage boy should “get over it” and get back to being a kid and having fun.  After all, kids have their whole life ahead of them.   What Sam felt could only be described as “puppy love.”  

After dealing with two teenage daughters (not to mention my own youth), I've come to recognize that the hurt that young teenagers feel, is the same as that pain that an older person feels.  A young person feels things from their own perspective.  The thirteen year does not understand the meaning of “You've got your whole life ahead of you” or ”There will be others” because they have not lived it yet.  They only know that this elated feeling of floating on air was real and now it’s been replaced by the depths of sorrow.

I guess everyone can see my original point.  It hurts just as badly no matter what your age.  When you are young, the feelings of loss can be devastating.  Just because you are “more mature,” you think you understand yourself to a greater degree but a broken heart knows no rules.  Have more sympathy for the younger ones that are hurting.  All of our needs are the same and with the help of loving family and friends, we can all make it to the next step.


Like what you read and want to read more like it? Check out my website at: 

Endless Perceptions

The Short Version of a Long Story

--> The purpose of this blog is to spread the joy of my storytelling to all those who might be interested.   I've been collecting stories for decades and about twenty years ago, I decided to put them together into what I call a "Time-Line."   Strung together, they formed all of the important events in my life, from birth to present.  The categories needed to perform this awesome task noted the dates of every job, school attended, closest friends, favorite movies, music, places I've resided and every important event that I could remember and/or scrape together through friends and relatives.  As this hobby grew, so did the sheets of papers that I was documenting this information on.  I taped together these sheets so that I could form a continuous time-line until finally, the running testament to my life stretched out to be about twenty pages long!  Because this method finally became a folding mess, I knew that I had to find a better way to keep this information running.

During the late 1990's, I attempted to use my first  computer (IBM) as a way to keep up with my quest to document and I became extremely discouraged when the five pages that I had so carefully typed, suddenly disappeared.  Not being a typist and at the time, not knowing what the word back-up meant, I reverted back to my paper and pencil.  My second attempt with my then new Compaq computer, helped me to understand what the word "crashed" meant.  The ten pages that I had printed were lost forever but if nothing else, I was learning to use the computer. I finally got another computer (Dell) but it was another two years before I got the guts to attempt this over-whelming project again.

I decided to use Microsoft Excel as a way of chronologically keeping up with all of the dates.  I found that I could even insert pictures along with the information to give a clearer picture of the memory that I was trying to preserve.  As the information turned into longer stories and the pictures took over more and more space, I felt the need to expand and give more detail to the stories past the Excel program.  

Recently, I've decided to convert some form of the information into published books. There was no way that I was going to write an auto-biography to throw out to the world, with all the rich, intimate details of my life but instead, I decided to use a lot of my own experiences and either alter or add to them.  After all, there is such a thing as writer's privilege. I still find it remarkable how you can start out with one idea and then through what seems like inspiration, then be led down a path that you had no idea that you would be traveling.  This feeling of inspired creativity is a story for another time.

In terms of expertise, I figured that my growing up in Harlem, attending Music & Art High School (then in Harlem) and graduating from C.C.N.Y. (still in Harlem), gave me enough of a perspective to be able to speak authoritatively about my surroundings. My first book was about these very times in my life, with a twist.

Regardless, I'm going to keep on documenting about life in my immediate area and beyond.  Hope you continue to come along for the ride.

Visit my website for my books and a lot more. Endless Perceptions