Author Archives: The Champ

A Conversation About Men, Male Behavior, Feminism, Fear, and Bacon (Yes. Bacon)

Posted on by
683

A couple weekends ago, I went out with a group of a dozen or so people to celebrate my homegirl’s birthday. And, as people in the greater Pittsburgh-area are wont to do after a night of drunken, WorldStarHipHop-worthy ratchetness, we went to Eat & Park afterwards to soak up our alcohol with pancakes and half-assed cheese eggs.

While most others usually opt for the menu food, I always choose to buy the breakfast buffet; a vast decrease in quality, but, when it’s 3:13am, quantity has a way of making you not give a f*ck.

There were so many of us there (I’m guessing 15) that the server put three tables together to accommodate all of us. And, since I was the only one who chose the buffet food, it meant…

A) I would be the only one eating food for the next 15 minutes.

B) I’d have to fight off a clawing pack of drunken and hungry zombies every time I returned to the table from the buffet.

The second part actually became a bit of a running joke. I’d go to the buffet, return with some bacon, and I’d have to smack the hands of my friends away as they tried to grab a slice. Sometimes I was successful in guarding my bacon, and sometimes the bacon zombies would get me. (I know this doesn’t sound like a very fun game to play, but we were all five exits past drunk, and the bacon game happened to be the funniest thing on Earth at the time. Only God can judge me.)

Anyway, although the table was filled with people who all were at the party I was just at, I didn’t know a couple of the people sitting at the other end of the table. I’m bringing this up because all the fun and games stopped when, while returning to the table after one of my bacon runs, one of these unfamiliar hands reached and attempted to grab the food on my plate.

When I made it back to my seat, I called this person out, asking what the f*ck was wrong with them (I think my exact words were “What the f*ck is wrong with you? I don’t know you, n*gga“), and basically put a slight damper on the mood.

(In hindsight, it was funny remembering the reactions of the people sitting around me, their expressions going from “Wait, Champ’s not serious, is he?” to “Um, yeah, he’s serious. This is getting uncomfortable. And entertaining. This is uncomfortably entertaining” and finally landing on “Wait, um, we’re not able to witness a couple dudes in suits fight over some bacon, are we?“)

I eventually forgave this person for their indiscretion. (We actually stood up and shook each other’s hands) The next day, as I was reflecting on the evening and remembering exactly how ridiculous that near fight was, it dawned on me that none of that would have happened if he was a woman.

You see, I was perfectly cool playing the bacon game with the people sitting close to me — all women that I knew. In fact, even if dude had been a woman I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have reacted the same way. I probably would have laughed, flirted, or perhaps even tried to steal some food off her plate when it finally came. But, because he was a guy doing something that guys aren’t supposed to do to other guys, it pissed me off enough to have the following absurd exchange with him

“Where are you from?” 

“Don’t worry about where I’m from. I’m from a place where n*ggas don’t take food off of n*ggas they don’t know plates.” 

(I apparently say n*gga a lot when I’m drunk and/or angry. Perhaps there’s another post in there somewhere)

If you’re still reading, you’re probably wondering what the hell a story about two drunk men having a pissing contest over some soggy bacon has to do with feminism, a concept defined as a collection of movements aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, and social rights for women.

Actually, that definition is a bit too bulky to work with. I prefer the one coined by Cheris Kramarae

“Feminism is the radical notion that women are human beings.”

Regardless of how you choose to define it, feminism has some roots in the idea that (most) men, even (most) well-intentioned men, don’t regard women with the same respect we do other men.

Thing is, as shitty as men historically have been and currently still are to women, we are pretty much just as shitty (if not shittier) to men.

As history continues to prove, men will regularly intimidate, embarrass, ridicule, mock, taunt, dominate, and even sexually humiliate other men if given the opportunity.

Think about this: Wherever you’re currently reading this, you’re at a place that was “founded” some time ago as a result of a group of men invading the land of a weaker group of men and subsequently murdering and colonizing them.

Even many “educated” and “domesticated” men still regularly do this in their own way. For instance, as ridiculous as that bacon story sounded, most men reading it probably laughed at first and then thought to themselves “You know what? I probably would have reacted the same way The Champ did.” 

Why? Well, although it may have seemed innocent, that guy reaching on my plate was his way of attempting to assert some dominance over me. His fat ass didn’t want any bacon, but he did want everyone to see him taking a slice of bacon off my plate — alpha male-ing me, in a sense.

I (over) reacted the way I did because, frankly, I wanted him to be scared. Not pissing in his pants scared, but “Hmm. This guy’s tone and body language suggests that there’s a possibility that he might actually get up and punch me in the face. It’s a slight chance, but still. Perhaps I should apologize to him.” scared.

Most people would probably consider bacon boy’s act a violation of some “man code” or some other unspoken kinship between men. While this is true, the creation of “man codes” aren’t really about any male kinship or spiritual brotherhoods or anything like that. We have these rules of decorum when dealing with each other because of fear of possible physical danger, and we treat each other with this tenuous respect because there’s always the possibility that we might get our ass kicked if we don’t.

Now, I’m (obviously) no feminist scholar, but it seems like the root cause behind man’s historically unjust treatment of women has something to do with the control and suppression of female sexuality and sexual freedom. It also seems like the only reason why (many) men are “nicer” to women than they are to other men is because they want sexual access to them, and getting women to agree to want to be with you is the socially acceptable way of gaining this access.

I don’t want to believe that the only things motivating us to be kind to each other are fear and sex, but history and any read of any newspaper continues to prove that this may be true. Am I completely off-base here, or are we (men) too f*cked up to evolve to a point where the majority of things the majority of men do are done, not because we can do them or can get away with doing them, but because they’re just the right and just things to do?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

My Problem With Church

Posted on by
774

An episode of “the shitty” — the drunk sleep that occurs when you go to bed while inebriated and, for whatever reason, wake up far earlier than you would under normal circumstances — last Saturday night woke me at 8:30am, an ungodly hour for an “I aint got shit to do all day” Sunday morning.

Unable to go back to sleep, I remembered that a group of 20 or so guys play pick-up basketball every Sunday morning at a nearby gym, so I got out of bed and decided to go play.

I made it there by 9:15 or so, played a few games, dunked in a game for the first time in maybe 10 months, slightly sprained my ankle while jumping around and screaming like a banshee after celebrating said dunk, and made it back home by 11.

After showering and glancing at the time after getting out of the shower, I thought a thought I hadn’t thought in (at least) a few months:

“Hmm. I think I should try to make it to church.”

I got dressed, ran out the door, and made it in time for the 11:45 service.

Now, my reasons for not attending church more often range from lazy (I just never get up early enough to go.) and logistical (I occasionally spend Sunday mornings working on various writing projects.) to practical (My favorite brunch spot stops serving food at 1:30. I usually don’t get out of church until 1:15.) and pragmatic, but the main thing limiting my appearances to one per every three months is the fact that I just don’t feel anything when I go.

I understand that everyone isn’t going to catch the Holy Ghost whenever they attend service, and I also get the fact that even in church, your personal relationship with God — not your connection to the parishioners — is what really matters.

But while I do always enjoy myself when I’m there, I never seem to actually be doing what I’m supposed to be doing. While we’re supposed to be praying, I’m thinking about how many calls and texts I’ve missed since I’ve been there. While we’re supposed to be paying attention to the word, I’m scanning the crowd to spot familiar faces (and thinking some, um “unChristian” things about some of them). While we’re supposed to be standing and singing, I’m wondering if the people behind me notice that it’s been a month since I took the suit I’m wearing to the cleaners.

This isn’t a new development, btw. Even as a child, I was never able to immerse myself into church the same way some of my classmates and family members seemed to. And yes, I realize that a good percentage of that was probably an act — many of the kids were likely just going through the motions to appease their parents and teachers — but I didn’t even care/feel enough to fake it.

Despite all of this, I’m not one of those faux intellectuals who think that they’re just too smart and too analytical to be swayed by God, church, and religion in the same way many others are. In fact, my belief in God — and yes, I do believe in God — is from an intellectual perspective.

Basically, I believe in God because the existence of Earth and the universe (and Stacey Dash) — the evidence of His existence — proves that He is real. I also understand and respect the purpose of religion and church. I’ve just never been able to cultivate the type of spiritual and emotional connection that seems to keep churchgoers “filled.”

I’m also not a church cynic. Both the church I attend when I do go to church and the pastor at that church are the embodiment of what’s good about Black churches. I give (most) churchgoers, even the more demonstrative ones, the benefit of the doubt, and I’m definitely not sitting there thinking “Look at these fake-ass motherf*ckers hooting and hollering.” Not only do I believe that they feel the way they act and say they feel, I’m envious of it.

I realize that my issues with church could just be a case of confirmation bias. I know how I’ve felt before while there, so perhaps every time I enter the building now I just assume that things are going to play out the exact same way, and I start to look for things and search for feelings to prove my point.

I discussed this issue with a friend yesterday afternoon, and she thought my inability to connect was a bit deeper than that.

“Your problem is that you expect your relationship with church and God to be easy. It’s not. You have to work at it and want it to be successful. It’s actually like any other relationship with friends or even a romantic partner. Things aren’t just going to magically work. You have to put in the work for it to work, and the basis of this effort is the love you have for your friend. You want things to work because you love them and you know your life is better with them in it. You’re not connecting with church and God the way you think you should be able to because you’re just not trying hard enough to keep a consistent dialogue. As close as I am to my best friend, if I went two years without calling her, we definitely wouldn’t be as close anymore.”

I think she’s right. Perhaps my problem with church is basically just my problem with me, and “going all in” with things. I guess it’s just up to me to decide how important it is to change that.

Anyway, people of VSB.com, can anyone relate to my struggles connecting with church and/or religion? For those who are able to make that connection, how were you able to do it?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

****ATTENTION WASHINGTON, DC: It’s that time again…THIS Saturday, Cinco De Mayo (May 5th), at Liv Nightclub (2001 11th Street NW) , it’s time for another edition of #REMINISCEDC. VSB x Shine On Me x Just Cause Productions are bringing you the hottest 90s party in the District!! It’s FREE BEFORE 11pm w/RSVP (Doors at 930pm, $10 after), OPEN BAR from 930-1030pm, and there’s NO DRESS CODE. So RSVP at reminiscedc.eventbrite.com to get in free and come party the night away at the dopest house party at the club!!! When they #reminisceDC over you…****

Why Being A Single Man Is Kind Of Overrated

Posted on by
879

 

Pic only chosen because I thought it was funny that this image was the first thing to pop up when googling "single black man"

While most will probably remember 2012 as the “Year Of The YOLO” (and by “most” I mean “like seven people“), it holds special significance for me because it’ll likely be the first year since 2002 where I spent the entire year single. I haven’t completed a full calender year yet — May will make it seven months since the former Lady Champ and I decided to go our separate ways — but because I seem to enjoy doing random anthropological experiments on myself for absolutely no reason (and because I’m an INTJ and INTJs apparently suck at relationships), I’m confident that I’ll make it to 2013 without having to change my Facebook relationship status again.

Anyway, if I could sum up my seven months of singledom in one word, it would most likely be “interesting.” I’ve met some “interesting” people, done some “interesting” things, made some “interesting” decisions, and, most importantly, thought some “interesting” thoughts. The most “interesting” of these “interesting” thoughts? Being a single man is kind of overrated.

Now, as I stated on the day where I wrote about orgasms, “overrated” doesn’t mean “bad.” In fact, as the careers of Tupac and Derrick Rose continue to prove, something can be very, very good — even great — and still be overrated. I’ve enjoyed being single, and will likely continue to enjoy it. But, while it seems like many assume that being a single man (a single Black man, at that) is nothing but an utopic stream of easy popsicles, cold pancakes, and syrupy p*ssy, there are a few downsides.

1. It can be very lonely

As a person who wanted to be single, is a natural introvert, and generally enjoys doing things by himself, I’m surprised by how, for lack of a better term, “noticeable” the solitude and loneliness of singledom can be. Even when seeing multiple people and/or having tons of friends, being single means that you are…single, by yourself, and there may be times when you want to have someone around but there will be no one that you want to be around readily available to be around.

Then, to add insult to injury, if you’re an angsty motherf*cker like me, you’ll start thinking things like “Wait. I’m a single man. A single Black man. My dad named me after Dolemite. Shaka Zulu is my second cousin. People who’ve never even met me call me “Champ” for chrissakes. Why the f*ck do I feel lonely right now?” which’ll make it even worse.

2. You have to wear condoms. And, wearing condoms sucks

If you’re one of the 137 people left on Earth who always has protected sex — even if in a long-term, monogamous relationship — just skip this section and move on to #3. Also, I’ve left a plate of gotdamn sugar cookies at the end of this post as a reward for your duty. Please eat them with a gotdamn smile.

If you’re not one of these people, you should be able to relate to how frustrating it’s been to go from condom-less sex to having to worry about having gotdamn condoms all the damn time. And, even if you’re not actively having sex, “Do I have condoms?” and “Since I don’t have condoms, is there somewhere close where I can buy them?” always has to be on your mind.

Also, from a logistical perspective, they’re a hassle to put on, they smell like a pack of slutty balloons, and “sex with condoms” will always be the Mike Conley of coitus.

There is always the alternative — just don’t wear condoms while single, either — but I think one Cromartie per generation is enough.

(Btw, is it just me, or has the price of condoms spiked dramatically in the past four years? I was last single in 2008, and I don’t remember a box of condoms costing as much as it does to fill a gas tank. Does this qualify as a “first world problem?” If a Black blogger bitches about condoms in the woods, would Kanye’s missing draws make a sound?) 

As much as condoms suck, they don’t suck as much as…

3. Having to participate in the dating game

In a paradox so annoying that I almost didn’t mention it today because I plan on spending an entire day on this sole topic soon, I love meeting new, interesting women but I hate the process that usually goes along with meeting new, interesting women.

I understand (and appreciate) the purpose of the process, but knowing why it’s necessary doesn’t mean that you have to enjoy it.

4. The superficial romantic connections synonymous with singledom gets old

Ironically, the best thing about being a single man — possessing the ability to have myriad short, commitment-free relationships AT THE SAME DAMN TIME!!! — ends up being one of the worst after enough time has passed.

This actually hasn’t happened to me yet. I guess I’m still in the single honeymoon phrase. But, I’m certain it will, and the thought of this happening is already depressing me.

Actually, this entire list is getting depressing. ***Making note to self to make sure tomorrow’s post is about the playoffs or strippers or something***

5. You start to realize some, um, “unpositive” things about yourself

I’ve been in three long-term — “long term” = “monogamous relationship lasting at least a year” — relationships as an adult. Each of these relationships failed, and my wanting to be single was the main catalyst behind each of these failures. Now, because I’ve always been a guy who did all the “right on paper” relationship things — I’ve never cheated, never physically or verbally abused any girlfriends, always followed the chivalry handbooks, etc — I’ve always assumed that I’m good at being a partner. But, these last few months have made me realize that I have some real deficiencies in the relationship department — personality quirks that have subtly sabotaged each relationship I’ve been in.

I wouldn’t quite call myself a trojan horse — the sabotage isn’t intentional (at least it’s not consciously intentional) — but I’m just not very good at this relationship thing right now, and I intend to spend the rest of 2012 trying to figure out why.

That’s it for me today. Fellas — single or coupled up — how do you feel about the concept of singledom? Is it all the beer commercials make it out to be, or do you agree that it may be slightly overrated? Also, ladies, are the “single man problems” expressed today at all similar to any “single woman problems?”

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Who’s Your Cringe-Worthy Fantasy?

Posted on by
763

Finger-licking good

(The following is a revised version of an entry posted three years ago. Happy Friday.)

One of the most peculiar things about “pastor chasing” is the fact that you have no idea (and no real control) over what’s going to pop into your head while you’re doing the deed. sure, you might begin the festivities with the thought of your girlfriend or Roxy Reynolds or the bespectacled big booty Applebee’s waitress you met last week, but your Id takes over once you get into the zone. And, as we all know, our Id’s are on crack. Sometimes the “pop-ins” are understandable (“Damn. I need to go to Caribana again“). Sometimes they’re intriguing (“Wow. Who knew my subconscious had a thing for Jill Marie Jones?“). Sometimes they’re bizarre (“Elastigirl?? Well, she did have a fat ass. and she’s flexible“), and sometimes they’re…well… …sometimes Annie the Chicken Queen – the woman from the Popeye’s Chicken commercials – pops into your head wearing nothing but an apron and bucket of butterfly shrimp, and, well, sometimes that just happens.

Because its Friday and I’ve already provided enough TMI this week, I won’t go into the myriad sexual, racial, and psychological undertones present with me fantasizing about a lascivious middle-aged cajun chicken-leg lady. But, I will say that this is a perfect example of the cringe-worthy fantasy–what happens when we find ourselves reluctantly sexually attracted to someone (whether it’s an elderly neighbor, a member of the Dipset, or Wanda Sykes) for reasons we can’t (and don’t want to) understand or explain.

Anyway, you’ve already heard enough from me. People of vsb.com, who are your cringe-worthy, “i’ll die before i tell someone i’m actually seriously attracted to this motherf*cka“, fantasies?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Why Boys And Girls Need Different Dating Advice

Posted on by
662

"Thanks Dad for the advice and for dressing us alike in this picture!"

In the comments of yesterday’s post, numerous people brought up the fact that the advice I’d give to a teenage son had a bit of a different feel than the advice I’d give to a teenager daughter. Paraphrasing, while the daughter-centric advice was “protective, thoughtful, and caring,” the son-centric advice came off as “harsh, snarky, asshole-ly, and cynical.”

I responded to a few of those comments to explain why the son’s advice and the daughter’s advice may have seemed contradictory, but I felt like I needed to say a bit more. Today is “a bit more.”

Both lists were coming from the same place — a father’s want for his children to have the best, happiest, and most fulfilling lives possible. But, since males and females are (obviously) very different — different motivations, different fears, different expectations — the advice did need to be different. For instance, the very first thing I told the son — he should try to wait until he’s in his early 30′s before getting married and starting a family — is, for various biological and sociological realities, absolutely awful advice to give to a young woman. This isn’t to say that young women can’t be successful if they followed that same path, but they’d have a much less likely chance of that happening than a guy would.

Anyway, realizing these differences, the advice I gave my daughter was a bit more protective and concerned with minimizing risk. Why? Certain “mistakes” such as having a baby at a young age or staying in a bad relationship far too long — things that aren’t “mistakes” per se, but will be interpreted as such — are generally more damaging for a woman than they would be for a man.

Is this fair? No. But, the fact remains that young women just aren’t able to get away with many of the things that young men are able to, and as a father it would be irresponsible not to recognize that reality. In my opinion, teaching a daughter how to spot and avoid bad situations is the best dating/relationship/man advice any father can give her.

I want both “team daughter” and “team son” to win the game. But, while “team son” needs to play to win, “team daughter” would be best served playing not to lose. The fact that women have certain “advantages” over men (and by “certain advantages over men”  means “pretty much everything men do is specifically structured around getting access to them“) means that “team daughter” starts the game with a 30 point lead, and “not doing anything stupid or reckless to give up that lead” gives them the best chance at winning.

Team son, on the other hand, will need a deep playbook, a reliable substitution pattern, an advanced scouting report, an offensive and defensive coordinator, and some favorable refs to have a shot at winning. Basically, while team daughter can be the 1996 Chicago Bulls — a team that, since they had the two best players in the league (as well as the best coach, best rebounder, best defense, etc), basically won games by just showing up at the gym — team son needs to be the 2008 Boston Celtics — a bunch of grimy, shit-talking, cheating, crafty, and resilient motherf*ckers to be competitive

Fair? No. But again, this is a reality, and (IMO) parents should prepare their children for the world that is, not the world they wished existed.

Last thing. I want to make clear that this was the advice I’d give to my children, not what I think every parent should tell their sons and daughters. It’s not meant to be universal, easily palatable, or politically correct, and it’s based on what I — as a man who’s had very specific experiences in his three decades on Earth so far — think would be the best way for them to navigate the dating and relationship world.

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)