EB: Giving ’em the business!

Brain dumps from the original Bonehead.

Embracing The Hood.

The ebonics dictionary is written in pencil so, every few years when the entries are erased and re-written, if you don’t have this year’s version of the book you just might get your Ghetto Pass revoked.  I’d explain but it’s not like that… if you know then you just know.  I’ve met people that never set foot outside the Hood until adulthood.  People that were old enough to vote before ever crossing a state line.  There’s an unspoken code of honor that is revered by not leaving The Hood both physically and emotionally.

Before we proceed I should clarify.  Whether it’s the Hood, the ghetto, the PJs, the bricks, the streets, the “inner city” what the fuck ever.  Y’all know where I’m talking about.  That place where the incomes are meager and the minorities are plentiful and if you carry your shoulders too erect you might be mistaken for a cop.

I guess what I don’t understand is the appeal of bitterness?  The society that gives more street cred to someone for ‘knowing how to do a bid’ rather than for getting straight A’s or for staying out of trouble.  While there is an undeniable strength that comes from surviving impoverished, depressing conditions, allowing your environment to diminish your aspirations, I think, is insanity at it’s finest. I think it’s sort of like the opposite of being an outdoor survivalist; you know those guys that can go live off the land for days or weeks at a time?  Folks that you could hand a scout knife to, blindfold ’em, and toss ’em out of a boat somewhere and not only would they make it home in one piece but they might have a new sharktooth necklace when they get back!  The difference seems (to me) to be that the outdoor survivalists are clear that they’re doing it by choice whereas the urban survivalists are often doing it by default.  Maybe it’s not that hard to understand at all… when you don’t have a choice in the matter it’s easy to be pissed off.  Right?

What do I know about doing bids?  Not a damn thing – and if I have my way I never will know anything about it.  I blame no one but myself for the mistakes that I make or for the circumstances in my life that I have not yet changed.  I have not been killed or imprisoned, nor have I been emotionally or psychologically handicapped.  I still maintain great ambition and do not feel any sense of entitlement that would forego the need for discipline, hard work and integrity.  I absolutely, positively do not believe in feeling sorry for myself.  And after all these years I am still a certified expert at mixing Kool-Aid flavors.  As the lyric goes, I am the stone that the builder refused…


March 9, 2006 - Posted by | Observations, Random Ramblings

1 Comment »

  1. Barber….the rolling stone………. ;o)


    Comment by Poca | March 13, 2006 | Reply

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