The Original

Hello everyone,

Will the real Michael Jackson stand up?
Will the real MICHAEL JACKSON stand up?!?!?!?!??!?!

Had a thought this week...(other than wanting to name this blog "For Fake :-D" )



Why spend 9.99 on the new Pharrell, when I could have...



For 14.99?!?!?!??!

Yes, 14.99. Why have someone imitating Mike when I could have the original/speaking of MJ's/it's something about those initials...

Yeah, I bought a Pharrell CD once...ironically enough, Clones...and it wasn't bad. It seemed like back then he wasn't trying to sound like Mike either...hard to say though, looking back.

It's just that I hear "Number One" and hear a megamix of "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" and "Rock With You". Or I hear Pharrell on this "Margarita" song with Sleepy Brown and hear a more upbeat "Off the Wall".

Seriously though, the music...man, the music. Ya'll know it's slackin'.

Still waiting for a summer jam here,
The Good Doctor

P.S. — My girl Cyndy says she likes Corrine Bailey Rae. Hmmmmm....I'll peep that, but right now "Human Nature" has the world on lock...See that girl/she knows I'm watching/she likes the way I stare...yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah, I'm smiling.

Love.

Word to a Mother

Hey Tabia,

Here's just a little something I freestyled off at work. This blog game is getting straight transcendant...and I'm glad it's making work more fun instead of making the blog more like work. Well, enough of that...enjoy young one...

Word is
Your kids
Aren't around
And you're down
Well guess what
So am I
Meaning your brother's in town
And we 'bout to hang out
Like old times
Reminisce about T.R.O.Y.
In our minds
Remember when
We used to hang out with friends
And pretend
We would roll around in the Benz
But now we mostly spend
Time moping or on the bottle
Or wasting energy trying to find someone to coddle
Initially cuddle
But I really don't wanna talk about struggle
How bout this
Come around 7
Greet you with a kiss
And hang out for an evening of bliss
You wish
Well, why you wish
I'm down for the weekend
With my friend
Reality
I know you have this friend
Fantasy
Why don't we rendezvous
At this place
Call dreams come true...
Hello...
Hello?
Tabia this your brother
From another mother
And before you pull the cord
Look out!
I'm already at the door...
Somebody cares! (1)

The Good Doctor

Coach

(Photo by Audrey T., former Aiken High School point guard)
University of Kentucky basketball coach Tubby Smith (left) and the Writer of this Blog enjoying the 2006 Nike Peach Jam Invitational.

------------------------------------------------

“I don’t want these shoes, I wanna GO HOME!”
--Diana Ross in ‘The Wiz’

Also, something you ABSOLUTELY won’t hear anyone at a Nike Basketball Camp say.

Hello everyone,

…Well, I enjoyed myself at the 2006 Nike Peach Jam Invitational, as the above pic shows.

Such a small world, isn’t it?

Fresh off this year’s Masters, ya boi was fortunate enough to be able to go to another national tournament. The Peach Jam, which was held from Wednesday, July 12 to Saturday, July 15, is a national high school basketball tournament that features the top 24 Nike Elite teams in the nation, teams laden with the best high school talent around.

In turn, a number of college coaches and scouters head out to the event, and it’s pretty big…just 10-15 minutes from the house. (I don’t get it either, our little Central Savannah River Area is jumping with major sporting events…oh well, more for the boi to cover)

But yeah, shout to my friend Kimani, who would’ve gotten the lead quote except for my late viewing of the Wiz Thursday (July 13) evening (sorry Mani).

“Have fun.”

To hear that was especially great, because the first day of Peach Jam stunk because things on a professional and personal level fell through in a big way on Wednesday, the first day of Peach Jam.

Truth is, it happens sometimes. But no one bounces back like the Writer of this Blog, and…Kimani’s quote, you ask?

Yep, that’s what I did in full…talked to a lot of coaches, shook players hands, did an interview with Tyreke Evans, who’s actually on the front of the SLAM Streetball magazine…(speaking of SLAM, and I won’t take long with this, I won a lifetime subscription to the magazine last Tuesday (July 11)…yeeeeeeeah, that’s right)

Well, the subsequent Thursday and Friday were fun, and I’m going to drop some highlights from Thursday action:

Thursday

(Well, much like any Peach Jam, there were an assortment of gifted players from all over the country…but for time’s sake, I’m just going to tell you that a team of players from Indiana and Illinois ran stuff…in fact, THREE TEAMS from that region ran stuff…most of all Derrick Rose and Eric Gordon. If they both go to Illinois, I’m telling you right now, it’s over. But, that’s not what’s really important…)

Seems like I’m always backtracking…

Wednesday…
Wasn’t such a bad day at all because one of my fellow church members was competing for the South Carolina Ravens team…

Jerel Stephenson, a gifted and intelligent rising junior at Glenn Hills High School in nearby Augusta.
The Ravens were a team made up of South Carolinians and Georgians, and they played in the 16-and-under division at the Jam.

(For clarification, there were two divisions, the 16-and-under, and the 17-and-under…the 16U tournament was a new addition to this year’s play.)

On Wednesday, the Ravens were down at halftime before ‘Rel came out in the second half, and absolutely dominated the game in all facets…his play really got the guys going, and the Ravens got the win.

Now, before I continue, I have to tell you ‘bout ‘Rel’s skill set…

I mean, what can’t the kid do? He’s savvy and experienced, and that was before he started playing basketball on AAU teams and the like. He can shoot efficiently from 20 feet and within…he can handle the ball, is ok for defense for his age, has quick hands, can play inside and outside…and…

He has COURT VISION.

Court vision, as I was telling my friend Faith once, is my favorite trait of a basketball player. Even moreso than someone who has great defensive prowess…because court vision implies such a great awareness of what occurs on the basketball floor…and it’s bigger than making a pretty pass.

Those of you that really know me know that I’m a fan of Spider-Man…and now that I think about it, one of his greatest powers is his premonition, his Spider Sense.

On the basketball floor, it’s no different…it’s getting into the passing lanes, it’s making the extra pass, it’s playing so fundamentally sound in these days of me-first hoops that it makes the casual fan coo and the intelligent fan wonder and wander to a different place and time.

That’s ‘Rel in a nutshell.

Yeah, he’s only 16. But I think a conversation had by myself and a number of youth at GYZ tells the tale…

(paraphrasing, of course…)
The Writer of this Blog: Yeah…I saw Jerel at Peach Jam…he’s really good.
‘Doubting Thomas’: Yeah, I’ve heard he’s good, but is he really good?
Witness: Yeah, he’s good…
TWOTB: Yeah, you know, we all talk junk…everybody think they got some game, but yo, dude can play…I mean he’s hooped everywhere…
DT: Yeah, but I want to see him play me…I think I could get him…
Everybody else: Naw, man…*subsequently followed by laughter*

Fast forward to Thursday…

And the Ravens are playing like…(insert expletive here). I mean, really…as a collective, they are playing horribly. It’s a miracle they aren’t getting blown out…even in the second half, it’s clear that whatever the coach said at halftime WAS NOT HEARD.

This coach…aside from being too emotionally involved…just looked to be outcoached and outclassed…

Too emotionally involved?

Yeah, I said it…
There is a such thing.

Being a coach is like being a good father (as far as I know)…you have to stay attached to your players, but stay detached to the mistakes that they can make some times…you can’t become overly emotional to the things they do, and you always have to do what’s best for the team, the family…and that means having your best five on the floor for a certain situation.

How did I learn such a lesson?

Funny you should ask…
Only a few years ago, the Writer of this Blog was coaching a team of 12-13-year-olds…around that age group. And guess who was one of my players?

Small world, isn’t it?

He was a great player then, but we had played two games…single-elimination…and won the second game BY A HAIR. So to start out the third game, I sat our hero for the whole first quarter, to rest him, I guess…but I kind of forgot he was there…

HOW DO YOU FORGET HE’S THERE?!?!?!?! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, DOC...
(old Good Doctor talking to young Good Doctor...)

The good news is, where I messed up, the Father meant for good. When he came off the bench, he was LIGHTS OUT. We were down by a bunch in the first half, but we came back with a vengeance. ..

We lost the game. Yep, championship game. We lost it.

That game, even though I don’t look at it too analytically, serves as a reference point to a lot of things. Anytime I think about mistakes that I’ve made in this lifetime, that game always comes up. I mean, sitting ‘Rel was one thing, but there were some many things that could’ve been done differently.

Do the memories of that game hound me? No, of course not. Just helps me not to make the same mistakes again.

Anyway…the Ravens coach does the same thing…sits ‘Rel DEEP INTO THE SECOND HALF…I think Jerel might have sat out 9-10 minutes of a 16 min. second half…pretty much sat out an eternity.

So…Jerel came off the bench, and you guessed it…LIGHTS OUT.

Finding people, making steals, helping the team to the cusp of victory…

They lost the game.

(As it stands, they would go 2-1 in the tournament…but wouldn’t advance out of pool play…a shame, because that team was loaded.)

After Thursday’s game, I talked to ‘Rel’s mom…and I asked her did she remember the Game back in the day…

She was like “Yeah…”

Then I said…”it wasn’t ‘Rel, it was the coach.”

She was like “Yeah, but there were so many other things…”

Hmph. Listen for that name, though. Jerel. Stephenson.

Anything else interesting about ‘Rel? Not really…he’s just Jig’s cousin.

Yep, that Jig.
Small world, isn’t it?
-----------------------------------
So yeah, I had a lot of fun.

But about that pic (which was taken on Friday)…

It’s cool enough that I was able to take a picture with someone that I consider a role model, and someone who represents so much as far as not only Kentucky basketball, but the college hoops landscape itself. It was refreshing talking to Coach Smith…I was able to tell him that I was from the area, working for a local paper, and funny enough, he asked me about my middle school principal…

“Do you know Rose Berry…yeah, I know the family…”

Small world, isn’t it.

Well, sometimes it gets downright miniscule…

Look closer. I can’t help but smile when I realize that 1) a recent Aiken High graduate took this picture, and 2) I wanted to take this picture with the wall in the background, but Coach Smith tells me to move over…right in front of an elevator. Now, understand, we’re on the first floor. And it just seems fitting to me that at the climax of the Peach Jam, after meeting Coach Smith, that this picture would be taken somewhere where I feel like I am in my life…on the cusp of moving up.

Next floor please…

The Good Doctor

Punching the Air

(AP photo)

Hello everyone,

…As the major count sets its mark at my favorite number (11)…

Here’s to a man who listened to the spirit of his father and not the doubters.

A man who, on Sunday, was so on his game that he aimed for greener pastures and didn’t even have to watch as he pressed toward AND HIT the mark, time after time.

A man who responded to tragedy with convincing triumph.

A man who put that silly little grin on my old man’s face, and come to think of it, everybody in my household and probably a few households just like mine.

A man who’s internationally known and locally respected…like I aspire to be here very soon...with the ability to emit global shockwaves from what most see as a simple fist pump.

Now, will somebody go shine up the cup?

Welcome back, El Tigre.

The Good Doctor

The Day(s) After

The Day(s) After

“Life is not a movie, that’s why I don’t stick to the script.”
--the Writer of this Blog

----------
Thanks to J. Dot and Deener for being such wonderful hostesses in Charleston, thanks to V for all the B-Day love, and thanks to everyone who sent b-day wishes and cards.
----------

Hey everybody,

The quote up top seemed simple enough, seeing as how some of you were looking for a ‘Coach’ blog…

Be cool, it’s coming.

In the meantime, I figured I catch you guys up on how I spent the b-day.

The 18th was cool enough…

Tuesday, July 18

Woke up at 8 a.m., thanked God, saw kid brother up watching Madea, so I made him cut that off and watch cartoons.

What’s an eight-year-old doing up watching Madea anyway? I’ll never know…

I tell him I’m going to Charleston, and he’s BEGGING me to go.

Not now, not now, maybe later…no, going to take some time off…

----------
By the way, I can hardly write this blog as we speak because kid brother is a dancin’ fool…always dancing mouth agape like he’s Chris Brown or somethin’…and he keeps jumpin’ on my back and stuff. Well, it’s an off day, all good…
----------

Anyway, I feel bad initially because I left little dude…but, I’m taking him to the aquarium in ATL in two weeks, so he’s gonna just hafta be cool this time around.

Head to Columbia first to pick up some shorts for the 23 party on Wednesday, found some nice LeBron joints, so that was cool. (It’s the little things, really)

From Columbia to Charleston…roughly a 90-minute drive, I was trying to find a song on the radio other than that new joint they always play on the radio.

I forget the name, but it’s something like Me and You Hustlin’ Everyday while Shoulder Leaning because It’s Going Down.
I knooooooow you see it, errrr, heard it.

Anyway, pop in an old Outkast CD (one of many Dre-Boi rotations on this trip) and ride out. Get to Charleston in good enough time, and head on out to the beach.

Went to Folly Beach in Chucktown, and first of all, it’s refreshing to know that there’s a beach just 2.5 hours from the crib.

Nice place to relax, and nice to hear nothing but my thoughts and the sea.

Hmmmm…let’s see, did some shopping, had dinner with the homey J. Dot, and watched Family Guy with Deener, drove home around midnight, got home about 2:30 a.m. on the sounds of Stankonia. Yep.

Wednesday, July 19

Woke up pretty early again, and got a haircut for the 23 party that’s supposed to…

Oh wait. Dang.

Found out around 5 p.m. by my own doing that my lil’ homey, who was born six years to the day after I was born, is going to be a no-show. Fan-frickin’-tas-tic.

No need to get warm about it…just called everybody and told ‘em the party’s off.

Went to teach Bible Study, and had a great lesson with the young ones. That was the one thing about going to the beach…it helped clear my head a little bit, and I was able to talk with them especially well this particular Wednesday…and that was good.

Not to get off on a tangent, but this younger generation trips me out…it’s slightly awkward talking to a 12-18 group that’s open about being sexually active, and this is something that Our Hero is working on. I’ll try to keep you guys posted on that.

After bible study, one of the students came back to talk to me about a certain situation in her life, and it was interesting because it was her first time at our church. I guess it’s also interesting that she was Caucasian, and, to be honest, she’s only the second or third white kid that’s come through B-Study since I’ve been teaching.

No need to jump on any race discussion here…I mean, being brothers and sisters in Christ should transcend all that…as thoughts of still-segregated Churches dance through my head. Anyway, we had a good discussion, and I was pretty pleased…glad things went well.

Left B-Study, and…well…forgot to call some people. Whoops. Worked out for the best though.

Turns out I forgot to call the homey V back, and her and her husband, affectionately known as Ice Cold were chillin’ up at Ruby Tuesday’s. Well, I decided to head on up, and they paid for dinner. Good stuff.

Anything else? Eh, not really.

Thursday, July 20

Wished my aunt a happy birthday…yep my favorite aunt and I were born 48 hours apart…well, not 48 hours. We just have birthdays really close together…which explains a lot.

And…got another day off, which I spent playing mini-golf with the Brothers in the latest edition of the Good Doctor Invitational.

…well, that’s that…be back later.

--The Good Doctor

Technical Difficulties

Over and over you can be sure
There will be sorrow but you will endure
Where there's a flower there's the sun and the rain
Oh and it's wonderful, they're both one and the same
--Frankie Beverly and Maze, Joy and Pain

This blog is momentous because it's actually my 50th blog here at Black Love One Growth.

It's kinda ticking me off though because I can't post my 'Coach' Blog right now because of some TD's at the house...I'm actually putting up this little prompt for the faithful BLOG readers at work.

Yep...living dangerously...but I'm not going anywhere. Hope to get things back online at home ;-)

Meanwhile, the folks here at work...I think they have a cake or something for me, which is really cool. Happy b-day to me...well, tomorrow, the 18th.

I'll be back soon folks,

The Good Doctor

Coach, 'Doc', and the Road to 23

(Disclaimer: Understand that the title of this blog does not imply IN ANY WAY that I am a fan of Mike Krzyzkewski or Duke Basketball. In fact, any savvy college hoops fan that knows me knows that my opinion in reference to college hoops is that you can’t have Duke without UK. Christian fricking Laettner…ugh…)

Hey everybody,

Don’t mind too much of that in the disclaimer…that’s just me having fun on the eve of my 23rd birthday…
Yep, here I am on July 17th around 1 a.m. talking to friends and enjoying life.

There won’t be too much to say here in this blog, as I’m setting things up for a three-part blog series that will be starting later today.

The three-part blog consists of the sections you see in the title above…the three sections aptly named Coach, K, and…the Road to 23.

What’s the Road to 23, you ask?
(*announcer voice* a gimmicky way to keep folks coming back to the BLOG…)

(*wham* *pow* *oof*)

Who said that?

Anyway, the blogs are going to speak on the week in review (Coach), some self-evaluation of myself that I’ve had recently (Doc), and everything leading up to and after my b-day, which I’ll likely do in a nice lil’ poem collection (the Road to 23).

What inspired this, you ask?

Well, pretty much anything and everything...

And well, it's inspired me to keep it comin’. Once again, that's the phrase that I like to use, and I keep biggin’ up my lil’ homey for sayin' that to me every time the blog drops, or something to that poetic effect.

And the truth is, I’m glad to say that everything that’s happened in the past few days, weeks, months, has helped to dissipate some of my lazy ways, and to be more aggressive as far as following that mantra.

So, I supposed I’m thankful for everything and everyone that has inspired me to keep it coming, whether friend or foe. See you guys soon,

The Good Doctor

P.S. Those of you that didn’t understand what I meant by A-Z for ‘the Answer’…A-Z represents the rhyme scheme I used. Sorry for any misunderstandings…thanks for the reviews on it though, take care you guys…

The Answer

You’re crazy :-) … it’s often the (brilliant?) mind that’s the most misunderstood…
--My friend Yesterday

Hey everybody,

Hope everyone’s doing well…today was a great day…I picked up some nice Muhammad Ali Adidas for 40 bucks, yo, and reconciled with an old friend. Really nice day…

…and an interesting week. I’ve had a lot on my mind, and hopefully, we all will be the recipients of such progress…

This new joint is called ‘The Answer’, and I take a lot of pride in it because it involves an eccentric rhyme scheme. I did the first 26 lines of the poem (not the SHR intro) in A-Z format, and did the next 26 in reverse. Yeah, I had fun with it, and this is the result. It’s kinda based on a true story, depending on who you ask. If you ask ME, the story I’m about to present to you isn’t over, and that’s for the best. In short, don’t call me crazy, baby, just call me brilliant, ha ha!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Answer

Three is the magic number…
Yes it is…
A man and a woman
Had a little baby
Yes they did
And there were three-e-e
In the family…
Three is the magic number…

--The Answer--
The truth, to be honest
I don’t care if this poem rhymes
The truth is, today
All I care about is you and I
Finding a solution to this equation
That is driving me crazy in stages
Tired of going around in ovals
More like elaborate ellipses
Running lackluster laps
With no water break
Some nomadic wandering
In your outer space
Not in tune with your satellite
And I grow weary
Maybe I should just outright leave
I mean, I can have it all but your heart
You discard me with little concern
But you, my significant selection, binds me to this strange affection
Something like a sadomasochist
But the pain in brain is mostly from the rein
What kind of pull happens when opposites DON’T attract?
This kind of gravity I don’t need
I just want to clear this cloudy crystal ball
To better see where we are going
Is that so wrong?
To truthfully want to consider you a blessin’…
----------------------------------
But what is the question?
The question is what I’ve been asking all along
Are we stagnant or are we growing?
It’s hard to tell with my back against the wall
And my insides are starting to bleed
And fear and doubt begin their attack
While no one can explain to plain Jane why this dude is decaying
Woman, it’s because he wants to feel your kiss
Provide protection while moving together in the right direction
And thus this man burns, yet Jane doesn’t learn
And every day it seems they’re right back at the start
But despite this disease the man continues to believe
At the point of his eyes becoming teary
Thinking he’s doing right
Doesn’t care about his losses, all he can see is her face
And she says she loves him, so he stays up pondering
Which road to take
And as he’s about to snap
Ready to give up on the missus
He makes a proposal
Stands up tall, so courageous
Finally tired of inane rotation
And the young man cried as he looked in her eyes
JANE, DO YOU CARE ABOUT ME IN THAT WAY
And she stammers and can’t answer, but the time
Oh the time, is now upon us
--The moment of truth is here, you have nowhere to scamper--
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

See you guys soon,

The Good Doctor

Black Star Power/My Heart is Like A Marchin' Band

Yes, this blog is my Speakerboxxx/Love Below...



Shouts out to AP on the pic.

Hey everybody,

So glad that the King Papers are in a safe place. Peep this out:

USA Today Article on the King Papers

You guys read the title and thought I was talking bout BET, ha?
Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeck naw.

I'm talking about the Ghana Black Stars. Yes, this wonderful bunch made it to the second round of the World Cup this year, and knocked out...yep, the United States to do it. Fantastic, not mad at ya.

What I am mad at is that Brazil knocked you guys out, then laid an egg against the French pastries.

It's all on you now, Thierry.

-----on to My Heart is Like A Marchin' Band-----

My heart is like a marching band…

Yes it is. And yes, Jig, that is officially my new thing…

Hey everybody…

How ‘bout a little bit of relevance and irrelevance…

But first, a moment of silence for my friend that had a seizure watching the Lil’ Jon ‘Snap Ya Fingers’ video…yeah, I know.

Well, lemme just throw it all in one blog and see what everyone thinks…

Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we goooooooooooooooooooooooooo…

Uhhh, we here at B.L.O.G. are taking up money for the Evander Holyfield collection…yes, this brother is about to go back to boxing. It’s always the punch-drunk ones, I tell you…he really needs to calm it down.

Just saw Madea’s Family Reunion on DVD…when Aunt…Aunt Rose? Or something like that…when she rung the bell at the family reunion, did anyone other than me stand up, pull a Dap (don’t act like u don’t know) and scream ‘WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!” ?!?!?!?!?!

The Fugees…is that a new song they have out? Man, I can’t call it…it sounds like a lost track from Lauryn Hill’s Unplugged CD. And we know how well that did. Speaking of, Andg, lemme get my CD back…sike.

And don’t the Fugees have a SCORE to settle? Or at least something like it…

If I ever got on ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire”, I hope if I decide to call you, Meredith and I don’t get:
“This wireless number you are trying to reach on the (fill in the blank) service is temporarily disconnected.” Had that thought while watching Millionaire…wouldn’t that just be…ugggggh, let me just take the money and run, thanks. *my high is blown*

The NBA draft…oh the high comedy. Hope none of you are Knicks fans…I see where you drafted a guy named Renaldo Balkman in the first round!!! Spectacular choice…ummmm, I’ll just say it like this to the rest of you. I’ve seen this guy in person; yeah, he’s pretty tall. But ummm, I just didn’t get that ‘first-round draft pick’ vibe from dude…and if you ask me, for the season, I thought he was the third/fourth-best player…on his OWN TEAM. Keep up the good work Isiah!

Man, this has to be the wackest summer ever…no summer jams…

Yeah, I SAID IT, got dang it. “Everyday I’m Hustlin” is NOT A SUMMER JAM. It’s no ‘Hey Papi” (Who remember that? You remember that…), and it’s sure as heck not the instant classic us Earthlings call “Summertime”. I didn’t say it wasn’t a good song…ok, I’m saying that too.

All this talk of white though…Scarface and his brother Pat Riley must be pleased…

Ok, ok I’m digressing.

There aren’t any summer jams, and as I’m doing this blog before I see Superman Returns, there have been no summer blockbusters.

As I’m typing this…we’re entering July…big month for me…all I’m saying is watch for the 23 party; it’s coming real soon…we haven’t had anything to really make noise this summer. Until now.

Hot Summer Jam - Sign Me

Ya’ll listen to the joint called “Sign Me.” Ummm, that’s the new summer blockbuster.

And uhhhhh, I think I’m gonna be on the remix.
I don’t think you guys are ready, to be honest.
Allow me to reintroduce myself.

The Good Doctor

Now that I’ve had my confidence fix for the day…(eyes bulging out, left side of my body won’t stop shaking…)

The other day, I had a great epiphany, which is why my heart in many ways is indeed like a marching band right now.
I was in my car thinking about life and how some of the things in my daily existence aren’t going the way I wanted them too.
It was also around 95-100 degrees outside in this lovely state we call South Carolina, so I had a little conundrum.
Anyway, I rolled up all the windows, a big risk at the time considering the aforementioned (no AC), and CALLED OUT TO GOD.
No, not one of those small whispers…not one of those quickfast prayers you pray to God like you just saying what’s up.
Naw, we had a real good discussion about some things, and ummm…stuff’s starting to work out.
Now I’m not saying I had a hiatus from Big G, I’m just saying that we hadn’t really talked like that in a while, and I’m thinking we should do that more often.

There’s really so much more I want to say about this conversation, but my mind’s starting to block up…so I know someone’s a little busy. That someone will remain nameless because I’m not trying to give any undue credit…I just want to encourage you guys to call out sometimes if you really need to clear your mind and spirit…if you really aspire to some peace of mind. Def.

Ahhhh, let’s see.
Oh yeah, covered a golf tourney this week, ummmm…had a camera in my hand and a press pass tucked in my shirt…

Still didn’t keep some charming Southern gentleman from asking me “are you one of the caddies for today?”

Wow, being a caddy must be really hard these days.

Not only do you have to carry some guys’ bags for little or no pay, but you also have to show him the way around the golf course, give the best advice you possibly can, keep up with the number of shots…things of that sort.

Today’s caddy is also apparently expected to take elaborate pictures of other golfers, preferably those in the lead, taking swings, going through their rounds, etc., and also expected to keep close tabs on the leader board to see where my respective golfer is as well as other golfers.

Also…

Today’s caddy must keep a recorder to collect quotes from avid golfers and golfing tournament directors alike, keep a steady list of the sponsors of the tournament, and report his (or her, wow, let’s make sure today’s caddy isn’t closed-minded, heaven forbid) findings to the local paper.

Hmmmmm…but if someone asks me if I’m a caddy again, should I:

a) Take my father’s advice, and tell them ‘Sure, to carry your bags and to complete such duties, you’ll have to pay me the same thing that my job at the Aiken Standard pays me for a week, or:

b) Do what I did, which was slowly pull out my press pass, lift my camera ever so discreetly, and explain to this Southern gentleman that I’m a sportswriter for the Aiken Standard, which will always and inevitably be followed by some stammering, and a lame excuse to why I could be mistaken for a caddy…

Hmmmm, I’m going to go with c, actually:

c) Keep showing up to work. Keep smashing these stereotypes. Keep…

Keep it coming…that’s what my friend(s) tell me. Super shouts out go to the Earthling they call J. Dot and my dude Bobby Drake. It’s a lot of ya’ll out there who support ya own, but I gotta show love to the folk ‘cuz they keep a blogger breathin’. If you didn’t make the short list, don’t be jealous…chances are I’ll get to tell you in realtime if you would COME AROUND SOMETIME, ha ha ha ha…let me stop. Ya’ll be cool.

The Good Doctor