1. Wednesday, April 16, 2008

    never in my life have i worried about my looks 

    because, really, what can you do?

    when i was a kid i was the only black dude in school, in town, on the court, on the field… seemingly in the world.

    if i could have changed anything back then, i would have turned my afro into long flowing rocker hair. mostly because a few of my friends had that and i had the polar opposite.

    but as i grew up i found that my crazy hair is what made me unique. its something that people could remember me by. only problem was, i didnt like standing out in a crowd. again, because i was the only black boy in town, i had had enough of standing out… i would have done anything to blend in for a day or two.

    strangely, attending uc santa barbara when i did, i was in the minority again in regards to being one of the less than 2% african americans on campus. but that wasnt the strange part, the strange part was there were a certain amount of young ladies who never dated a guy with a fro before and were sick of the long haired surfers who had broken their hearts all through high school.

    so needless to say i suddenly was happy to stand out. thus i let the fro gro as big as it could.

    mother nature has a weird way of fucking with the program, however and something happened in college. not only did the melatonin sloooowly start fading from my skin but my fro stopped growing so huge. infact now i have absolutely zero hair on my head and im paler than many of my white friends.

    but again, these are things that i have no control over, so whatevs, right? well. sorta. as you know im 101 years old. and as you know there are young ladies out there, some of whom, really like bloggers. as in really. problem is, some of these women are really young, like barely legal. thus they have been dating barely legal men, most of whom have no idea what a beer belly is.

    when i was in college i weighed 120 pounds. i had a terrible stomach disorder, probably because my entire diet consisted of soda, mcdonalds, pizza, and potato chips. my stomach basically denied anything that came near it. i carried pepto in my glove box. i drank a lot of milk to soothe what ailed me down there. and believe it or not, but the hippies at school treated my maladies with nature’s #1 herb.

    and believe it or not, but it worked. my stomach mellowed, i was able to eat, and now im able to cope without any medicine whatsoever.

    but now i have a huge beer gut. huge compared to the tiny bellies of the youngins who tap on my window some nights. and strangely it makes mr confident not-so-confident.

    so our good friend karisa has decided to help me lose the gut. she wants me to photograph all of the meals and snacks that i eat and tell her how big the dishes were. for years she has taught me that instead of fried chicken (you know us black folk) i should eat grilled chicken. instead of classic coke i should drink water or 100% juice. and instead of driving home and jumping into my pajamas before whatever might happen that night, i should do some *real* exercise like i dont know, run around the block or ride my bike to memphis and back or something.

    its hard to argue with karisa because ive known her for a while now and ive seen her only get better with age while i have only gotten balder and fatter and dumber.

    therefore for the next week or so, get ready to see my diet and my weight on this blog. i cant guarantee that it will always be pretty, but it will be true, and maybe you can play along in your blogs too.

    above is the salad i normally make for myself at work