When you see me coming with a big bat, you know why…

It’s been a minute for a good reason. Talk about blockage… I want to blame it on the upcoming holidays but this was the case over a month ago. People are not calling following up on things. I’m dancing this tight rope between being on top of a situation, of checking behind people and just being a straight up – you know what? There is no other part to it; That’s all I’m doing. This project must move forward. Period. You say you’ll do something on Tuesday. Yes, I will call you back on Thursday (yeah, two days breathing room). I wrestled with even writing this. I feel embarrassed when I don’ t have straight up points of progress to share. I stuck my neck out to do the project. I spoke it into the universe. Results should be as such. Hold up, I’m about to get pissed all over again…


On the  progressive front, I have Keith Wade, an accomplished playwright, doing the final once-over for my North of the Grove webisode script. He’s working with me price-wise  because it could have been brutal wallet-wise to find someone else to do it. Getting this done would then fast track it to finding directors, cast and all that. Also, I met with the MIami-Dade Boot Camp, coordinator Shelnita Jackson. She is really enthusiastic about  the book. You know when you work so hard at something and then someone actually responds to it with appreciation and takes you by surprise? Ol’ girl caught me cold. She is a voracious reader and talked about Howard and David as if she knew them personally. She’s light-skinned so when she got a lil choked up about a certain scene I saw it on her face quick! I drove home reminding myself that 1. I needed to put that suit in the dry cleaners (it got rained on waiting to meet her and took on this angry-drifter from out of town smell that goes against my principles) and 2. that her response, is truthfully, the pinnacle of what I hope for with everyone North of the Grove touches.

Oh yeah, remember that damn car I found for my son?


It’s got to go. I swear to God. Talk about a lemon. This damn thing put the lemon in Minute Maid! The rind, the pulp, chewed up seeds, the cut off hand of the underpaid immigrant that picked it… This car put all that shit in the carton! I gotta find him a reliable car. So that’s another expense, in the middle of Xmas…  You know what?

Whew. Ok. Bottom line, I need these books to get to the schools It’s messing with my household. I’ve worked hard for this. Why must everything test me right down to the wire before coming through?


I wanted to end this on a rah-rah note, ’cause it’s been so long and people were asking why haven’t they read anything new on the blog. Believe me, I tried. I’ll keep swinging my bat until things change.


2 responses to “When you see me coming with a big bat, you know why…

  1. Willie Hobbs, one love to a playa. When are we going to collaborate on some real deal hotness that the whitest cats on earth (like me) and the realest of the real (like you) can all sink their teeth in and say, “Mmmm, now I’m full.” Like the days of eating a bucket of Popeyes with the Cajun style rice on the side with some buttermilk biscuits…

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