A quick apology

To all of my followers, I want to thank you for your support. I am very grateful to know that people are interested in what I say. I enjoy sharing my thoughts and observations with people. It gives me another outlet to share my many opinions. I know that it has been awhile since I wrote about something other than Brooklyn. I was planning a few things in November. Then, my camera and laptop were lost to my lack of thoroughness. I also want to thank you for your patience in waiting for another post.

Learning as I go

I just wanted to say that I am learning. I have made it easier to hear from you. If you are a member or not, whether you have something nice to say or not, I want your feedback. You can leave a comment completely anonymous now. Or you can just tell me off.

It never gets any easier

It seems all I can do these days is morn another friend passing. Just when I started to get a grip over the loss of Titus, I get word of Jason Ellison. He was a good friend that I meet back at a job. Well, Cafe Mahogany was more than a job. It was a place that those of us creative odd balls could come together.

That's exactly what we were. I was still figuring out what my purpose in life was (not that I feel too advanced in that area) when I came into this place. I meet other b-boys and graffiti artists. I felt free to be who I was, for the most part. I really embraced what this place meant to not just me but many other people. I eventually looked to the place for more than a platform to express, I looked to carve out a living there.

Before I rose to partnership in LazyBoddy Entertainment, Jason came in looking to make a few dollars. He was hired in and we clicked an immediately. We both wanted to blanket the city of Detroit with murals to inspire people to rise above. We had a passion for working in three dimensions as well.

When I took hiatus from the hip hop scene, I lost touch with him. By the luck of life, he moved into a neighbors place for a short time. It was as though not a single day had passed since the last time I seen him. His art had shown tremendous growth and maturity that I was envious of. But I never showed that.

This time, after we moved to new locations, we didn't loose contact. We would hang more and more. But eventually we drifted apart. Not due to a fall out or anything like that. I fell in love and moved in with my girl. I spent so much time with her, I lost time with a lot of people. He was one of them.

Then, I moved to NYC with her. I seriously lost touch with him. I never felt as though we wouldn't pick right back up where we left off at. That was up until an hour ago. I saw a mutual friend put up RIP for him. It just numbed my whole body. I feel as though we had unfinished business. We both planned on attending Cooper Union. I believe that was still going to happen.

I can keep on going, but I really don't have the energy to do so. I guess I'll finish this with one last thing. Treat every last day you have, every minute with your peoples whoever they are, treat every moment in life as though it just might be your last. Because it just might be.

Technically difficulties

Sorry to be away so long everyone. My harddrive crashed and I am trying to resolve it. I only have limited options for the internet, so bear with me. Don't worry, I have been writing by hand and building my video catalogue. Some good news in the mean time. I will be contribuiting to dumbonyc.com on a weekly basis. Look for my stuff there as well. Keep checking with me.

What if it was your family?

Let me ask you, what would you do if you were in her shoes? Imagine, a 58 year old woman of mixed decent who loves to garden and watch WNBA. She is liked by her neighbors and likes them back. All she is doing is trying to enjoy her golden years. It's not easy though.

You see, her mother died very sudden and horrible death a few years prior. Her mother took a new prescription for managing cholesterol. Unfortunately, the pharmaceutical company fast tracked the drug and didn't research it properly. It cause muscle deterioration. Before anything could be done, her mother died of liver and kidney failure. It wasn't easy to deal with the loss.

She tried but needed professional help to move on from the tragedy. She lived in a complex that helped people through these type situations. They were a lot of good people around her that cared about her. There were a few people around her that didn't. One in particular, he was kind of out of place.

You see, he was not too fond of diversity. He called her many different derogatory names. He threatened her numerous times. But it wasn't just her. He developed a reputation of a bully. He was not liked at all except a few people who had racist notions like he did. But the community tried before to have him removed. There was even a petition that was submitted. The man found a lawyer that helped him to stay. This didn't help the situation.

He became more agitated by the petition. He became more verbal. He eventually crossed the line. The woman was sitting in a car with a friend when he came raging. He was calling her a nigger spic while putting his hand through the window, slapping her twice and pulling her hair. He had assaulted the woman with his hands, as well as with hate filled words. She called the police to come and take him away.

The police arrived and of course he was gone. He jumped on a bus and split. They took a report and off they went. He didn't stay gone long though. He later returned only to return to his abusive ways. He had cornered a neighbor of hers in the laundry mat. The man had a police report only hours prior and he was back at in the same place.

She didn't stand by and watch. She had someone call the police and went to confront him. She didn't go in empty handed, after all she's a 58 year old woman barely 5 feet and he's over 6feet tall. She grabbed a bat and went to get him off of her neighbor. He ended up taking one in the dome. She didn't run or panic. She waited for the police to arrive at the scene. She told them everything. They then placed her under arrest for a felony assault with a lethal weapon.

I ask you, is she wrong? When do we cross the line from victim to criminal? If you attempted to do things by the book and the law left you naked, would you allow yourself to be victimized? We tout the right to bear arms left and right in this country, but what good is it if you are turned into the criminal when you use it in a situation it is called for?

I ask you this because this woman is my aunt and this really happened to her last week in Bakersfield, CA. She is still locked up. She doesn't face a felony but the fact remains that she is the victim, not the criminal. She defended herself when the police wouldn't.

DEFEND WOMEN WHO DEFEND THEMSELVES!
FREE PHYLLIS LEWIS NOW!!

Mama told me about days like this

People say they were never warned, but I know I was. My mom told me early. She didn't tell me a huge amounts of details, but she warned me. She said that my problem was I never learned how to enjoy the roller coaster.

She warned me of days of great feelings. She also said that sometimes, those days can turn around so quickly on you. As I got older, she would remind me. "You gotta enjoy the ride. The ups with the downs." That's how she put it.

The past weekend was an great example of the roller coaster she was telling me about. I had recently been getting attention to things I just started doing for fun. I like telling stories and YouTube allows infinite ways of doing so. I started by posting a response to a common question.

I got a bit more attention than I expected. Even folk from across the Atlantic noticed. Not a lot, but it crossed borders. A friend suggested that I reach out and try to create some dialogue with other bloggers. So I did.

Nothing happens over night and I'm no exception. It took three nights for a slight rise in notice. Dumbonyc.com liked my video showing places I go in Dumbo. They posted it on their website and the response surprised me. I got about 250 hits in a 24 hours period. That's not an instant success but it surprised me. Then, the biggest shocker happened.

But by the end of the week, the New York Times had took notice of my video. It didn't sink in at first for me. Hell, I even thought someone was pulling my chain. It took a few friends congratulating me to realize it. I was excited and wanted to celebrate.

But times are tough and I stayed home for the night. I shared it with my friends over the internet. I even joked about being broke by saying I wish I could afford some champagne. I woke up the next day excited and wanted to share the good news with more people. I got online and posted the link to my link on a few sites. I went on twitter and felt on top of the world.

It was like that moment when you are on a roller coaster, when you reach the top. You are looking around, enjoying the view. The difference, though, is you are expecting a fall. The ride is a build up of excitement about that fall. I, on the other hand, was not expecting a sudden drop.

You see, I got news of an old friend passing. It started as someone saying it better be a rumor. Then, everyone was tweeting RIP Baatin. I made a few phone calls to mutual friends and got nothing. You see, they were doing the same. It wasn't until Saturday afternoon that I talked to Mike. He said to me that it was true, with a cracking voice implying he was struggling to hold it together. I was feeling pretty much the same way.

Just when I felt as though I was coming out of shock, I had another heavy blow. My father had told me about his sister being assaulted (not by her abusive ex-husband but a neighbor) and then arrested for clocking him with a bat. I then called and talked to my cousin, her son, about the situation. People in the area said he was a bully and was asking for it. She called the police and played by the rules. Apparently, he knows how to skate around the rules.

All in all, I went on a crazy ride this weekend. It started like a great one, too. The tallest peak was up there, give me a nice view. The fall was fast and sharp, almost nausiating. Maybe it wasn't a great ride, now that I think about it. There was only one up this weekend.

Pigs must be flying

This economic downturn (as the media tried to call this recession) has me feeling like I am in the twilight zone. I feel like Rod Serling should be following me around, chain smoking. Not that I am seeing ghost or anything like that. Things just don’t seem real right now.

I received a phone call from a bill collector about 15 minutes ago. It was for my old gym membership. It was one of the few things I was willing to pay a bit extra for. Not the gym itself, but the convenience of it. One of its locations was directly across the street from my job, with a pool and hot tub. I miss soaking during my lunch break, but I digress.

I think back to the calls I got my first time in dealing with a collector. That was during my college years. I was not thinking like a responsible adult should. Then again, I was not at the time. I filled the application out in order to get the free stuff they were giving away. When I first got the card, I tried to be mature about it. Then, I was approved for a limit raise.

Eventually, this behavior lead me to a bill collector. During the mid 90’s in Detroit, work was not easily accessible and I started to feel the crunch of living outside my means. But, I put my chest out and handled the situation. I remember quite a few different companies outside of Michigan telling me to get a job, though. They didn’t quite understand that Michigan’s economy never really stopped spiraling after the 70’s.

As I was talking this afternoon, I was waiting for his temper to show. I kept wonder with each word I spoke, will this be the start of the ugliness? The more I talked to the guy, and let him know that I’m lucky to be eating right now, the stranger it felt. Hell, the guy even let out a chuckle before we ended the call. I like to think that he felt lucky to have a job at that point, no matter how miserable it makes him.

We are seeing a new day in America again. Even though a majority of people won’t admit it, we saw the first American refugee. In January, we saw the swearing in of America’s first black president. Now, we are seeing a class of people that never had to draw unemployment in the line with us, figuratively speaking. A bill collector can actually relate to a collectee.

Finally out the gate

Okay. I started this blog site a week ago and have not posted one blog. It’s not that I haven’t written anything or that I haven’t tried. I just couldn’t decide on what to post first. I know it sound ridiculous but there are different sides to every coin and I am no different.

At first, I want to have a nice gentle intro to the blog world (MySpace doesn’t count). Then, I wanted to go into a rant, as I have a tendency to do. I also wanted to talk about how my experiences in the ghettos of Detroit have molded me into what I am today. These are all aspects of who I am.

It didn’t get down to the core of me, though. I feel as though I should pour out to the world if I am going to do this. I should not hold back what is really inside of me, if I want to be taken seriously. Then, I realized what I should open up with.

My name is Gregory Malcolm. You will soon see that I am a walking contradiction. We all are. Sometimes it shows more than others, but it is in our nature to be this way. I would like to minimize it as much as I can. But as time goes on, you will see what I mean.