My First Real Holiday Season
By Anthony Douglas Gere
Well Happy Holidays to you and please excuse me for not writing for the last
week or two, but time has been going as fast and slow as it has been coming.
Besides spending My First Real Holiday Season with Tha Heir and Boo Boo
Kitty, I have been traveling a bit, getting ready to travel a bit more and
celebrating life in a blessed way. Besides seeing old friends, people I thought I
had forgotten about, seeing those I can’t remember when I see them and
having complete strangers turn into friends, enemies and associates, this
Holiday Season has been all I could not have imagined and more. In feeding the
less fortunate the other day and constantly running into those that have caught
a case or streak of bad luck, I basically kept with my own tradition and gave
back to the world that produced me and my life, by giving back, my time. From
the smiles and tears I have and continue to shed behind and in front of those
solid and invisible doors and walls this Holiday Season, it seems as though as
much as we give as a people, there are still people out here in the world,
needing more, or less of it. Many of my viewers outside of here sent me things
that made me feel warm, as I continued to feel the heat to keep my own private
hell from freezing over when I don’t hear from them or you. At this very
moment, my mind seems to be flooded with thoughts to write about. But as I sit
and start to write one of my signature Theories Of Thought, another thought
comes along and makes me re-write what I have not yet, put down on paper.
My memory seems to keep searching and then re-focusing on love, or the lack
there of, as I see and have seen so much hate out here in the world, looking for
a home to rent, lease or buy in this foreclosure state of mind, many are going
through right now. Many ask me, "What do I think about the economy", and I
say, " What about it, it is what it is". So what can I do I ask myself via a third
person? How can I fight something that I thought I have already defeated or
defeated me, and no matter who wins the battle in this war, what do I do then in
the aftermath, if I select to fight or turn the other cheek, like Dr. MLK, Jr. said to
do, forty years ago? Yes, I mean hell yeah, I have a dream, but I also have
nightmares in my world of reality, so it seems as though I am living a life in
three different places at the same time, many of the times.
After me, my daughter and Tha Heir feed thousands at the shelter this Holiday
Season, they fed us with something that will stay with us forever. While holding
an oversized fork to serve the meat to the many waiting to taste this piece of
the cow that don’t know me from the Son that is being Celebrated on this day, I
hear this man ask me, well say to me, "Thank you for volunteering your time to
do something special by feeding all of us, and by the looks of it, it looks like you
were lucky or smart in chasing that paper early on in your life". I was confused
and puzzled with the statement, and he instantly caught on to that and clarified
his statement by explaining that his definition of "Paper " at the moment,
signified "Money". He said that I looked like I had achieved my goal in chasing
paper in my quest for freedom, and he didn’t know me from Adam after he
spent the day or night with Eve. What he didn’t know that even though I
understood his meaning and statement in some sort of way, he should have
realized that I was never or ever have, chased "Paper". And even if he signified
his word "Paper" with "Money", he should understand and get his facts right
because "Money" isn’t printed on paper, its printed on cotton fibers. And
though I appreciated what he said to me, I don’t think if I donate my time four or
five times for a few hours each day in a year, spend some money on a few
things and give back five days out of the three hundred and sixty days I don’t,
doesn’t make me that special. But on the other end, if you really want to go
back and think about this form of mental and verbal genocide, you can say that
this was one black man, calling another black man, "A Cotton Picker", in a
good and bad way. Yeah that’s right, even in this day and time and in the year,
2008, things are differently, the same when we are looking for change in reality
and in a metaphorical type of way.
By Anthony Douglas Gere
Well Happy Holidays to you and please excuse me for not writing for the last
week or two, but time has been going as fast and slow as it has been coming.
Besides spending My First Real Holiday Season with Tha Heir and Boo Boo
Kitty, I have been traveling a bit, getting ready to travel a bit more and
celebrating life in a blessed way. Besides seeing old friends, people I thought I
had forgotten about, seeing those I can’t remember when I see them and
having complete strangers turn into friends, enemies and associates, this
Holiday Season has been all I could not have imagined and more. In feeding the
less fortunate the other day and constantly running into those that have caught
a case or streak of bad luck, I basically kept with my own tradition and gave
back to the world that produced me and my life, by giving back, my time. From
the smiles and tears I have and continue to shed behind and in front of those
solid and invisible doors and walls this Holiday Season, it seems as though as
much as we give as a people, there are still people out here in the world,
needing more, or less of it. Many of my viewers outside of here sent me things
that made me feel warm, as I continued to feel the heat to keep my own private
hell from freezing over when I don’t hear from them or you. At this very
moment, my mind seems to be flooded with thoughts to write about. But as I sit
and start to write one of my signature Theories Of Thought, another thought
comes along and makes me re-write what I have not yet, put down on paper.
My memory seems to keep searching and then re-focusing on love, or the lack
there of, as I see and have seen so much hate out here in the world, looking for
a home to rent, lease or buy in this foreclosure state of mind, many are going
through right now. Many ask me, "What do I think about the economy", and I
say, " What about it, it is what it is". So what can I do I ask myself via a third
person? How can I fight something that I thought I have already defeated or
defeated me, and no matter who wins the battle in this war, what do I do then in
the aftermath, if I select to fight or turn the other cheek, like Dr. MLK, Jr. said to
do, forty years ago? Yes, I mean hell yeah, I have a dream, but I also have
nightmares in my world of reality, so it seems as though I am living a life in
three different places at the same time, many of the times.
After me, my daughter and Tha Heir feed thousands at the shelter this Holiday
Season, they fed us with something that will stay with us forever. While holding
an oversized fork to serve the meat to the many waiting to taste this piece of
the cow that don’t know me from the Son that is being Celebrated on this day, I
hear this man ask me, well say to me, "Thank you for volunteering your time to
do something special by feeding all of us, and by the looks of it, it looks like you
were lucky or smart in chasing that paper early on in your life". I was confused
and puzzled with the statement, and he instantly caught on to that and clarified
his statement by explaining that his definition of "Paper " at the moment,
signified "Money". He said that I looked like I had achieved my goal in chasing
paper in my quest for freedom, and he didn’t know me from Adam after he
spent the day or night with Eve. What he didn’t know that even though I
understood his meaning and statement in some sort of way, he should have
realized that I was never or ever have, chased "Paper". And even if he signified
his word "Paper" with "Money", he should understand and get his facts right
because "Money" isn’t printed on paper, its printed on cotton fibers. And
though I appreciated what he said to me, I don’t think if I donate my time four or
five times for a few hours each day in a year, spend some money on a few
things and give back five days out of the three hundred and sixty days I don’t,
doesn’t make me that special. But on the other end, if you really want to go
back and think about this form of mental and verbal genocide, you can say that
this was one black man, calling another black man, "A Cotton Picker", in a
good and bad way. Yeah that’s right, even in this day and time and in the year,
2008, things are differently, the same when we are looking for change in reality
and in a metaphorical type of way.
