Hard Head Makes A Soft Behind

A HARD HEAD MAKES A SOFT BEHIND

When me and my sisters were disobedient my mother with give as the “a hard head makes a soft behind” warning she got from her grandfather “Papa”. This warning was used alternately with the “look” that made us know we were cruising for a bruising. Being the baby boy and the boy baby she prayed to have to straighten my father out (it didn’t work), I often ignored the warnings.

My sisters have said Mama spoiled me. I insist I spoiled myself. I recall getting one whooping. It was for stealing a ring from a neighbor’s apartment (there’s a story there). I don’t count the time she pummeled me very lightly with her fist (there’s a story there too). And, even the whooping I count wasn’t so severe. Before she even hit me with belt I was whaling and saying “You killing me”.

She hit me maybe three licks. My Best Girl is as crazy about me as I am about her. 

Anyway, what made me think of that yesterday? Oh, I was thinking of reasons not to get into devilment. That was the reason that stopped me from getting into devilment and thinking about it. In Alcoholic’s and Narcotic’s Anonymous  rehab programs and meetings the phrase “play the tape all the way through”, referencing bad outcomes from “use”. How do I know? (there’s a story there).

What is important is that Mama’s warnings regarding my behavioral choices are still very vividly in my head, which is no longer so hard. I have learned to listen to that angel in my mind. 

As my 54^th birthday approaches (January 17^th) I am noticing a distinct shift in my thinking process. It’s more “spiritual” or maybe just less physical. No it’s more spiritual. Though I am the same weight I was through junior high and high school (145), for some reason it seems my belly protrudes far more now than it did then. And my chest… breast sag. Is a man’s chest called breast? Whatever they’re called, they sag. I thought about doing push ups and sit ups and stuff. Then I told myself I know I wouldn’t do it consistently enough to make a difference. And, why bother anyway nobody sees it but me. And, should anyone else see it, its not to the degree that it would gross a person out, but it would definitely be a deterrent to any ideas of an intimate encounter. But that’s not likely anyway, because no one ever really flirts with me like that.

Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked. What I was saying is that experience and time has taught me finally to enjoy doing what is right and viewed in its proper perspective, devilment ain’t all that much fun after all. You know up until about a month ago you might have argued that I had a hard head and I might have argued with you that I didn’t. Today, I hear and agree with Mama, a hard head makes a soft behind. And, I don’t know about you, but there ain’t nothing in life worth a whooping. Things to die for to be sure but to take whooping for… at 54? Nah. 

The Linen Closet Library

THE LINEN CLOSET LIBRARY 

"You need to read so you'll know about life." That's what mama told me and my sisters. And that is why the last three shelves the hallway linen closet (from the floor up) were made our family library.
My Best Girl! Mama graduated from Dunbar High School in Broken Bow, Oklahoma in 1954. A single mother twice by that time, she still loved books and believed they were the key to life. She moved from her grandparents home in Eagletown, Oklahoma, the last stop of the Choctaw Nation's March of Death from Mississippi at the insistence of the United States Calvary, when she tuned 18 and lived, for the first time in her life with her single parent mother who had since married and was living happily ever after in River Rouge, Michigan.

My mom met, married and was divorced from my dad (there's a story there), during which time she birth 3 girls, a boy and then finally a girl. After a rocky marriage, struggling for her and children's survival, she moved her five children with her to the two bedroom apartment in the rear of her mom and stepfathers home, which also boasted a two bedroom apartment at the front of the house, and a two bedroom apartment over the garage with an underground passageway from the Big House Basement to the detached garage behind the house.

Still my mother and her children were poor despite her mother's semi-affluent status (there's a story there). Finally, applying for and receiving public assistance to secure her independence and improve the welfare of her children she moved to the projects. Always Mama told us, "Just because you live in the projects don't mean the projects have to live in you." And she reared the perfect gentleman and 5 exquisite young ladies. At the heart of our training is epitomized by out linen closet library.

Sheets, pillowcases, blankets and the like filed the top three shelves. The forth and fifth shelves as well as the floor were filled with school text books, a set of encyclopedia Britannica and a small assortment of Bible story books. In addition to her mandate that we learn from these tools, she encouraged and instilled in us a love of books. This love was exhibited as me and sisters each had personal libraries on the top shelf of each of our bedroom closets. We were never afraid to read. And, mama taught us to use a dictionary when we ran into words we didn't understand.

In retrospect, she reared autodidacts (self-taught persons). In this revelation I have discovered that my love of law and success in defending myself in criminal cases successfully (the only cases I lost is when I allowed the public defender to set me up... I mean represent me). I have also successfully represented a number of others across the country in Administrative Courts where a license to practice law is not required, which is good, because I have never had one. Not to take anything from my father, who represented and won in a suit against the Worker's Compensation Commission of Michigan, but Mama trained me to read!

While I am college educated and applaud those who have and do follow that course of study, I believe, and this quotable me talking, I believe, "True learning is not what you've been taught, but the knowledge that you have independently sought." I argue that formal education merely requires rote memory: Rote learning is a memorization technique based on repetition. The idea is that one will be able to quickly recall the meaning of the material the more one repeats it. Some of the alternatives to rote learning include meaningful learning, associative learning, and active learning.

It is my belief that Mama made us active learners, which is why we have never had any trouble finding or creating paid work. God I love my Mama. She not only gave us treasures. She made us treasures! Any treasure hunters out there? :-)

For another day part 2

the sun has come out and its far more spring like than winter. And now as I reflect on the morning with its dark, ominous clouds, I see me wearing black. Serious. Thoughtful. In my sprit and not my flesh. Feeling The Power of One with all the universe.

It is midday and like Mama Said, I thank God for another day. Consider this my first break. Have you taken yours?

...For another day

…. For another day

Winter, spring, summer and fall, momma told me my 5 sisters every morning we ought to thank God for another day. Michigan winters were quite the challenge, surrounded by the five Great Lakes, in four to six inches of snow , in a big snow suit, climbing through to get to school evoked many emotions, none of which I recall as being gratitude. As I look out my window at dense, blackish grey clouds overhead I have that same feeling at first. Here we go, an overcast day. It looks glum. It looks . It looks dreary. Who wants to be outside in that!

And then I think of how I reflect on seasons as times of life.. Summer, spring, autumn, winter all represent a time in an individual’s life for me. In deep reflection none more desirable than the other. Likewise, today I see dense, blackish grey clouds overhead and the powerful brooding 54 year old man soon I will be, should I live to see January 17th 2017. So the look of my day no longer denotes or dictates how I feel, but why I feel.

Today I feel because it is an intricate part of my purpose. As I say, the richest life is the reasoned life. I am empowered in a very unique way by the look of my day. The powerful brooding of my day is the powerful brooding of my spirit which will guide and inspire me to accomplish those things in my human experience necessary for my spiritual satiety today. Do you feel that?