Social Mediaocrity

And is everyone out there practicing safe teen sex? Not so much. And if you are engaging in unprotected and authentically transparent social spaced relationships with your friends, then you are bound to succumb to a Socially Transmitted Dis-Ease, STD for short.

When I first started hanging around social media types I found them to be very negative. They'd take a product, service or concept and upon hearing it, rip it to shreds. Thought to myself, "Dang, self, that's such a negative approach to someone sharing something with you, isn't it?". Then I realized that it wasn't done with any intention to harm or judge, just the way of the (self appointed) social media expert. This is just one of the many symptoms of an STD.

When it comes to choosing a 'social media' partner, you want one that has experience and confidence to tackle the task at hand. There is no need in seeking out the fumbling fools that fold under pressure or the one's that talk up a big game and when it comes to performance, often fall flat of the mark. Finding that balance within the tumultuous Social Space takes experience, hard work and a dedication to honing one's talents.

It's easy to spread the Dis-Ease amongst your twitter rendez vous, that retweeting function creates a viral spread quite easily and don't get me started with the abusive #hashtagging that these kids do these days. From one to the other and on to the next, the Dis-Ease spreads none being the wiser. It's often the mediocrity of the collective experiences that leave successful victories of galant social media endevours leaving smiles on people's faces. It shines in the sea of mediaocrity. That's why Old Spice rings true and one can easily respond to all of it's glory with simply, "They Get It".

You do know that Social Media is just a made up word, right? How is it not social to begin with and where is the media part?! It should be aptly renamed Social Toolology, the practice of Sociological theories mixed with the tools that help copulate and reproduce content with a side of marketing. Wait, that would be Social Tooliomarketology wouldn't it?! Wait, what?!

How big do you spread your feathers and stomp around and squawk? Thought so ;)

Regardless, everyone is doing it now, the best plan for action is to educate those that are sick or have contracted an STD already. Regular self examination should take place for unsightly url's and improper grammer usage in one's tweets. Those are the first warning signs to get tested and make sure you're STD free.

Think smart, don't retweet a tweet that you're involved with, you're spreading the wrong message.

Retweet safe and have fun.

That Empire State of Mind

Upon my arrival in New York, well, technically Newark, I was comforted and greeted with the smell of poo. Yes, poo, baby poo to be precise. I was riding the AirTrain into the city and no one was any where near me to have made such a stink. It was just the frequent fragrance of a city and funny enough, it was comforting and welcoming. I had returned.

Within minutes of being infused with Penn Station's energetic vortex, musical instruments vibrating off the rafters and Bob Marley renditions accompanying those musical notes, it was the warmth and electricity I had missed. Which opened up my insights into an observation between my time in New York and Los Angeles.

"If Los Angeles is phony and pretentious,

New York is real and raw."

This was based from another saying that that girl shared with me, which probably suits it better:

"Los Angeles is like a teflon frying pan,

while New York is a cast iron one."

There is something authentic and true that rings out in New York. Not saying that all people in LA are shallow and surface orientated, but I'm not saying that many are not :)

At first opportunity, made a B-line to Central Park. Often I find solutions in nature-like settings, something about bodies of water and greenery. The leaves of the trees sway back and forth communicating decades of wisdom through the oldest telephone lines in existence. There aren't enough times that one can visit this magical place.

My mission today was to walk up to Harlem and get my olive oil based leave in hair solution that one can only acquire in the beauty shops in Harlem :) As I exited the park and walked Across 110th Street, lo and behold, a certain individual decided he was starring in a Spike Lee movie as Samuel Jackson, clip is below:

Biggest lesson learned today, "Keep Calm, Walk On and Plan Three Moves Ahead"

The Wondered Years

Something happened in me and I stopped writing. I'd jot down a few things here and there, but nothing that was substantial or that I deemed shareable. Shutting down my creative exports can be paralleled to me shutting down how much insight someone gets into my world. So why would I do such a thing? What did I have to hide? Answers to those questions I have not had till recently.

I'm a sensitive kind of guy. My daily intercourse with the internets puts me out there for all to see, so I would wear a hat and sunglasses and felt like that little kid from that movie "Big Daddy" with Adam Sandler. He'd stay quiet until he got his sunglasses on, his invisible sunglasses, which enabled him to talk. I needed sunglasses, it was my safety blanket.

So what's so bad about the sensitive me? The kind and vulnerable me? Nothing. I had to start believing that.

So to answer my own questions, the reason I did such a thing, I was scared. Scared of taking risks that may or may not pan out. Afraid to admit my failures in front of anyone else. I love to fail, it's the best learning lesson you can have so why is it so hard to share it? The lessons learned from a failure are nothing short of a success.

And what did I have to hide? A sensitive, kind and vulnerable person. If I showed that side, people would think I'm a push over, they'd use my vulnerabilities against me and take advantage of my good nature. Regardless of me willing to show these things or not, they still were used against me and taken advantage of. Lesson, be yourself and not what you think people need you to be.

The last time I wrote here was to give thanks. Not in the usual way of giving thanks, but thanks nonetheless. People asked me if the woman I wrote about in that post was my mother. Although my mother did bring me up to mind my P's and Q's and some of my father's worldly charm was handed down to me, that woman was exactly that... that woman.

I've been more than lucky to be in that woman's life many times in this lifetime and her in mine. She's in my life now, deeply. We're older, wiser and at the point in our lives where spending our lives together raising up little afro bearing brown babies is no longer a thought.

Which leads me to share a recurring dream I've had for years:

The sun is shining down on me and this comfortable warmth washes over me. The setting is a beach, not overly populated, with the sun closing it's angle on the horizon and spreading light off of the water. In the near foreground I can see my daughter walking, or should I say, waddling along the beach. Images of the Coppertone ad with the dog pulling on a little girl come flowing through.

My daughter's holding a hand, her mama's hand. For years I've tried to place that hand. Each time I experience the dream I try and make note of some other clue or detail that gives me the identity to the mother of my children. Her lithe wrists, fingers nimble, agile like a concert pianist and holding that child's hand with a direct flow of love. I'm blessed. Two of the most important women in my life just standing in front of me surrounded in love. Cassiopeia.

That woman, is this woman.

She's always been and it's taken me half of my life to recognize this. No other man has ever been given this many opportunities with this woman. And now, my life is beginning to shift. The freedoms of flying by the seat of my pants is losing it's lustre, the exciting and risky seems foolish and silly. I'm not getting old, I'm getting wiser and ready for sharing my life with someone and let them bear witness.

She's been a constant inspiration and writing this on the new moon and setting intentions is just another way she inspires me. Now, all I have to do is lose the shades and the hat, well, maybe not the hat :)