It was a hard day yesterday. It wasn’t the usual type pf hard. It was the type of hard where my self control was tested. Where I had to put up a happy face because I cared for something so deeply that I didn’t want to jeopardize it in my eyes nor in anyone else’s.
Yesterday one of my good friends called me at 10am. I knew that as soon as I saw her number, something was wrong. Our relationship has been through text and e-mails so when the phone call comes, I knew it wasn’t good news.
When her voice chokes and she says “I’m the bearer of bad news”, I automatically knew that someone has passed away, died, gotten killed, committed suicide or something worse was about to come out of her mouth. She starts to cry and her voice starts to crack, it was bad. She tells me that Amy died. As appalled and shocked as I have been at other moments in my life; this was right up there.
Not so long ago a friend of ours committed suicide and it wasn’t as hard as this one. He left behind a wife and kids and I still didn’t bat an eyelash at the whole situation. The problem is that I recall how much this poor girl went through shit in her life.
Amy’s health was always bad. She suffered through a bout of a Staphylococcus infection. She was in the hospital for 30 some odd days; It left her with a massive scar on her back that I joke around on. “ You man will never hit you doggy style again”, I told her. She laughed hard and said; “only you would make me laugh like that”. I always spoke to her straightforward and for a few years, we were incredibly tight.
The biggest moment in our friendship came when she visited me for a nice dinner. She walked in through my door with a gift snuggled tight against her chest. It was wrapped neatly in a shiny gold and silver gift-wrap. I met her with a hug and a surprised enthusiastic look. She hands me this small gift and I open it. It was a poetry book by Saul Williams. At that point, I didn’t have a clue who Saul Williams was. The book came with a CD and when I played it, let’s just say it wasn’t what I expected. She said “I think you will like it eventually, you could be that big sammy”
She had this way about her that exuded faith in me. All this was when I met her in 1998, that was my very first year connecting to AOL. We maintained a friendship through AOL hometown, chat rooms, friendster, migente, myspace, and finally facebook. She followed my poetry and followed me and never hesitated to let me know that she knew I would do it big with my words.
It’s been interesting seeing some of the homage’s to Amy on her facebook page. She wasn’t as popular as she was before because she dropped friends like flies. She had a way about her that made some people either question her sanity or just merely create a small space between themselves and her. I never took it at face value because you always knew that deep inside of her, she meant well.
As unfortunate as it is, she lost her life this Thursday and it has affected a few people to the point that they can’t seem to function. As my heart goes out to her, it weighs heavy for her two kids, Nick and Jay. I’m sure they will be ok but at a moment they need a mother the most, I just can’t help but feel sorry for them.
my heart goes out to you
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Man up son
There are many shows that come and go in nyc and I don’t think life changes if you miss them or catch them. I stopped heading out to most of these functions because I got a little tired of seeing rejiggered poems set to bad music with equally bad lighting. I certainly believe in supporting my peers but there is only so much I could take.
Let me tell you how I was treated to something refreshing today. I won’t reveal the actual show I caught until the end. I think it would be fun that way so if you don’t like it, double click and exit buddy.
I headed out to this small theater today and it seemed more like a crackhouse then a place where art is appreciated. The graffiti was prominent and the faint smell of urine was definitely in the air. I didn’t think anything of it because in actuality, it felt like home.
Once we got there, I saw a few friends and made my usual rounds of man hugs and friendly cheek to cheek kisses. As far as theater settings go, the point, BAAD, and countless other places all look exactly the same; dark, dingy, and funky. It was a little hot and my hunger headache kicked in.
The show started exactly at 8pm. So I am quite content that we started at the stated time and not the latino time of 8:45. Once it started I was hoping to see something different. It started with one mic and a performance, which looked like every other performance I’ve seen at Bar 13. The only thing that went through my mind was “ this motherfucker better not do this for an hour”.
5 minutes in, things looked up much better. The spoken word aspect was shot down and I saw something more intimate, emotional, loving, thought out, methodic. This is where the ride started and I decided to buckle my seatbelt.
Some of the content was typical and the shock value was present. I say this because in everyday conversation, you barely hear homeboy talk the way he did in his show. There came two points in the show where time stopped in that theater. One came with a loving portrayal of tough love and forgiveness between father and son. It was a solid moment where he opened himself and showed the audience how at that moment he knew he became a man. This first ride was smooth and I expected the transitions to be far rockier.
My next moment in the show that I fell in love with was the moment where he and another man became one. With one line in this sketch he wrapped it all up and put it in a tiny neat box. That box was placed on your lap and it was just another gift he gave us.
The show ran for 1 hour and 5 mins. It was a wonderful treat to have someone work hard to ensure they took you on an emotional ride. You felt a wide range of emotions and that is always the formula for a good show. I didn’t get to thank him for the show and for his work. I didn’t get to thank him or say goodbye because if the fat man gets up at 5am, I need to get my ass to bed.
If you are ever in NYC and you have an opportunity to catch Man Up with Carlos Andres Gomez, you won’t go wrong. He puts his life on a plate and is trusting enough of the audience to dissect his life with care.
peace
Let me tell you how I was treated to something refreshing today. I won’t reveal the actual show I caught until the end. I think it would be fun that way so if you don’t like it, double click and exit buddy.
I headed out to this small theater today and it seemed more like a crackhouse then a place where art is appreciated. The graffiti was prominent and the faint smell of urine was definitely in the air. I didn’t think anything of it because in actuality, it felt like home.
Once we got there, I saw a few friends and made my usual rounds of man hugs and friendly cheek to cheek kisses. As far as theater settings go, the point, BAAD, and countless other places all look exactly the same; dark, dingy, and funky. It was a little hot and my hunger headache kicked in.
The show started exactly at 8pm. So I am quite content that we started at the stated time and not the latino time of 8:45. Once it started I was hoping to see something different. It started with one mic and a performance, which looked like every other performance I’ve seen at Bar 13. The only thing that went through my mind was “ this motherfucker better not do this for an hour”.
5 minutes in, things looked up much better. The spoken word aspect was shot down and I saw something more intimate, emotional, loving, thought out, methodic. This is where the ride started and I decided to buckle my seatbelt.
Some of the content was typical and the shock value was present. I say this because in everyday conversation, you barely hear homeboy talk the way he did in his show. There came two points in the show where time stopped in that theater. One came with a loving portrayal of tough love and forgiveness between father and son. It was a solid moment where he opened himself and showed the audience how at that moment he knew he became a man. This first ride was smooth and I expected the transitions to be far rockier.
My next moment in the show that I fell in love with was the moment where he and another man became one. With one line in this sketch he wrapped it all up and put it in a tiny neat box. That box was placed on your lap and it was just another gift he gave us.
The show ran for 1 hour and 5 mins. It was a wonderful treat to have someone work hard to ensure they took you on an emotional ride. You felt a wide range of emotions and that is always the formula for a good show. I didn’t get to thank him for the show and for his work. I didn’t get to thank him or say goodbye because if the fat man gets up at 5am, I need to get my ass to bed.
If you are ever in NYC and you have an opportunity to catch Man Up with Carlos Andres Gomez, you won’t go wrong. He puts his life on a plate and is trusting enough of the audience to dissect his life with care.
peace
Saturday, April 4, 2009
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