Wednesday, March 21, 2007
I Knew This Was Going to Happen
Monday, March 19, 2007
Did you ever think these newspapers keep printing this stuff to take attention away from the injustice down here?
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Some New Orleans Stuff
Everyone has to go read this ad on careerbuilder.com that I read from my homegirl G's Page. It's pretty clear that if you don't have enough money or enough luck to get your child into a private school or a charter school you might as well quit your job and just go sit in the classroom."Certified teachers will teach in charter schools, and teachers who want an alternate route to certification will teach in the state-run Recovery School District." What the hell is an alternate route? You can't be practicing on kids when they need to learn now! There could be anyone in there doing all kinds of shit with the lesson plan.
The Corp of Engineers installed faulty pumps at the 17th St. Canal and they knew they were faulty. There is nothing I can say about this story and the Corps without being investigated by some national security agency. After seeing the way they have handled this whole thing with the levees and pumps, nothing going on in Iraq surprises me. Can we just let the Dutch build our levee and send Bush a bill? Living here was much more easier to stomach when we only got messed over by each other. Between ICF, the Corps, and out of state contractors I am ready for a revolution. It’s a good thing the college kids come down here and restore my faith in mankind.
How come we never see any African American groups coming to help us like the white kids on their spring break? That kills the whole racism angle. If they are some black groups here I never see them.
I’m on the fence about this whole Section 8 housing in New Orleans East. We need housing desperately and the East has allot of space. On the other hand, there are thousands of middle class people spending good money to pay for their homes. We are the only section of the metro area with that kind of home ownership base that has to fight against people putting low income housing right next door. You don’t want to spend 200,000 dollars on a house and have someone next door with that project mentality. New Orleans has a lot of space for ghettos. You never see anyone that lives on Broadway, or Nashville St. concerned about low income housing next to their home. That’s why they overprice everything in that area.
Terry Burton was shot and killed by the National Guard in the 2100 block of Benton St in the Lower Ninth Ward. For fifty plus years Terry and his family lived across the street from mine’s in the same block he was killed in. Anybody from that area of the Lower Ninth ward would know him as the dude that walked around with all the dogs. All he did was smile and wave. He had never left his house since the storm. I would like to officially add his name to the victims of the storm list. You can read about his post Katrina experience by clicking this link. I never thought there would be a tragedy during my lifetime that would be this personal.
I would like to dedicate this blog to Sister Patricia Berryhill and Sister Alice Craft-Kerney for opening and running the Lower Ninth Ward Medical clinic at 5228 St. Claude St. Number one, it takes a lot of good to sacrifice your personal space for the benefit of the community. The clinic is in Ms. Berryhill's home. Number two, when everyone else was grieving, or having reservations about what to do, these sisters came home and made it happen. Nmber three, I grew up in the 5400 block of St. Claude St and we used to play football in the vacant lot right next to her house. I don't think she was living there when the church people used to call the police because we were burning ant piles out of the grass. You sisters need a medal from the president or an NAACP award or something.
Pissing Away 10 G's
Why do all the funs times you had when you were younger end up pissing you off more as you get older?
Living Off My Reputation
I couldn't answer him.
I made up some stuff that sounded like it might be correct but actually he had me at a lost for words. My explanation was so bad that other trainees started adding on to his question and I wanted to jump out of the glass doors and cancel the whole damn thing. There were about three more times today where I really couldn't formulate my answer to user questions. I knew the answers but I wasn't focused enough to get it out. Today was the first class who left one of my trainings that could legitimately ask if I know what the hell I am doing. That drives a egomaniacal dude with a Napoleon complex like me crazy. The brother that started all of the debate earlier probably thought I was pissed at him. When I let everyone out for lunch I shook his hand and thanked him. I thanked him for being sharp enough to pick up on the discrepancy in what I was saying and for being the one that finally made me realize I have to get my act together. Once the class was over, I went back to my desk, opened my notepad and wrote the following words inside of the front cover......THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN! Even with all the stress, I still have to represent my name.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Let There Be Light
Spy In The Building!!
This morning he tells me he wants me to meet someone he interviewed. That was confusing because I was here all last week and I didn't see any ads or candidates. The person is the other new director's boyfriend that moved from
A Poem I Wanted to Share
I borrowed this from a talented sister named Tanisha. I love this piece and I figured this was a good way to kick the week off.
As the rising sun
Like the melted butter fused with sugar
Full of flavor
Sienna dipped Milk Chocolate
Resembling portions of broken earth
Like the night sky after sunset
When the storms bring gloom
Our rainbow shines brightly
For we are
Full of Flavor
and strong enough to tackle any obstacle
© 2007 tlg
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Cliff's Rambling Again
The office is a rough place sometimes. As I sip on this long island tea and watch wrestling, I have to reflect on my day today. Sometimes you just have one that sucked. I can’t focus on anything in particular and the things I want to write about contain a personal conflict. I can’t write about my job because I think I have a nosey co-worker who reads this page and I will probably have to say something about his sensitive ass. I can’t write about the criminal justice system in New Orleans because I have a friend that’s a DA and I got a ticket that’s still floating. I can’t complain about the Road Home program because I have a friend that works for them and I don’t really understand the damn thing anyway. I was going to go off about Walter Reed Medical Center and the treatment of the troops but since I have been checking on a close friend who has a good enough position there to testify before Congress I can’t talk about that. All of those factors mean you get to read a bunch of foolishness until the end of the week. Here are some things to ponder while I get this office together.
Is it okay to call Britney Spears the Caucasian Whitney Houston?
How many times can a woman your mother’s age range age piss you off at work before you say something to her like she’s young? I am going to call my mama and ask her. I am her baby so it will probably be one time and that’s it. She might wanna come down here and get her for me.
How many months have to pass before we are allowed as a people to claim a body and bury it? James Brown died weeks before Anna Nicole Smith and she has already been laid to rest. A perm can’t hold together that long. Its going to really bother me that Brother James started his eternal rest with a dry process in his head. This would have never happened to Elvis.
A blonde playboy model with multiple baby daddies really fascinates white people.
If I go to the same strip club ten years after the first time I went, is it ok for me to not believe the girl anymore who told me she was dancing to pay her college tuition? I’m just saying…she should be a damn professor by now.
In 2007 New Orleans will enter the record books when a car rolls over a pothole, disappears and ends up in China. It will surely happen uptown where driving to work is like a video game.
Is New Orleans the only city where a bunch of people can get together to reminisce, talk about buying liquor and cigarettes from the sweet shop at five years old for thier family and no one in the room thinks anything is wrong with that?
I saw a dude today who had his pants buckled at his knees. The question I have is where did he find those boxer shorts that went all the way to his ankles? They don’t have those in the big and tall catalog. If I can't send my dad any drawers for Father's Day it will be because the skinny dudes bought em all.
Ladies, I don’t mean to be rude but it has to be said. There is a fashion crisis going on in the hood. Listen, if your hips and waist are the same measurements (36, 36, 36) you can’t wear those jeans that hang on your waist. You don't have anything to hold them up so when you walk they start falling down. When you are in the store and bend down to get something from the bottom shelf, guys come with one dollar bills to put in your pockets. I'm tired of looking at your all your business in Walmart.
How many times must a person call you back to back within a ten minute span before you can cuss at them when you speak? If I don’t answer the work phone and you leave a message, I can’t finish what I am doing, check the message and call you back in the thirty seconds it took you to call my cell and leave another message. The Cliff rule is that if you call me twice before I call you back I won’t call at all for the rest of the day.
I knew I was getting old when someone said there goes Mr. Harris and I started looking around for my dad. It was a long ride home when I realize they were talking about me. Lil Wayne doesn’t sound the same after a teenager calls you mister.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Here,Now,& Before...The Grill
Lil Wayne – Hollywood Divorce
For the first time since August 2005, I went outside and lit up the BBQ grill. My boy gave me a goat leg to break in my new grill once I moved back to the house. I got up in the morning, went to the store to get some other meat and beer, to my parents house to get the table off of the porch and to my friend’s house to get my new unopened BBQ utensils my mom sent me for my birthday. It came with a Saints apron too so you know I was ready. The day was great. The sun was beaming but it wasn’t hot. The radio was playing. Kids were running around playing. My neighbor kept coming to the back while working on his house to try to talk his way into a plate. Then my boy finally got over his hangover and came out of the trailer to help me. We had the Crown, the beer, and the meat. What else could you want in New Orleans in March?
Then it hit me. Saturday was my one of my brothers' birthday. That means that I would have been at my parents house in the Lower Nine grilling whatever he wanted. On birthdays we always get to pick the menu for the family. I probably would have gone to Mildred or one of my aunts to ask them how to cook a goat. Then I would have went by Geraldine and told her I had a goat leg, made a crazy joke she would only laugh at because I told it then had to sit back and listen to Bernadine make wise cracks and jokes about the goat for hours while Big Cliff told us everything we were doing wrong on the grill as he left to buy more beer. That would have been fly. Even if it wasn’t my brother’s birthday, everyone knows that before Katrina I was the king of waking up in the morning and turning the desire to grill into a 50 guest event in a few hours. No one can organize a freestyle party like me. Some of that guest list lives in Dallas, Memphis and Opelousas now. While we were outside adding wood to the fire, I mentioned to my boy how the blue rocks in the driveway came out of my fish tank when they were cleaning and gutting the house. He picked a few up and told me to put them in the new tank when I bought it. I started thinking about Big Blue and Tupac my two beloved fish. I started wondering if a catfish that made it through an open window had eaten my boys. After that, we were walking in the yard looking for some more wood and the damn cable I used to tie Sandy to when I had to open the gate is still wrapped around the pole in the shed. I started talking about finding her on one of those pet rescue sites and this stupid bitch answers the phone and swears to me that they hadn’t received any Katrina dogs in weeks when I called. I should have drove to the shelter in Houston anyway. Post Katrina New Orleans may be the only place in the country where you could be having the time of your life and making yourself really depressed at the exact same time. It’s sort of like going to a jazz funeral every single day for 18 months. That’s the emotional price we are paying for bringing our ass back. At least we can still have fun.
Friday, March 2, 2007
President Bush was in
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Keep Your Damn Game
When the Hornets first came to
I have a newsflash for those who don't live here or who haven't been here since the storm. When I step out of my door and head to work every morning, I am not ducking bullets being sprayed across the highway. Crime here is no worse than it is anywhere else really. It's just glorified because we have a group of citizens and media looking to assassinate our character. If there is one thing