Parenthood Strugglelife.

Posted on 29 April, 2013 by Panama Jackson

So you’re saying that you can’t seem to find mommy. mommy. mommy. mommy. mommy?

Parenthood, ah parenthood.

It’s simultaneously one of the most rewarding yet stressful endeavors any person can enter into. For one, you literally have no clue what type of child you’re going to get. You might get a child who inexplicably loves “Gangnam Style” or loves to tell you to worry about yourself in the most aggressively polite way possible. Or you can get a devil spawn.

The possibilities really are endless and you get to find out who you have over the course of time. My daughter? She’s a total comedian. She loves to laugh and make people laugh and has one of the most developed imaginations I’ve ever seen. She loves art, and likes singing. All things she got honestly between her mother and I. But she’s only four. Who knows who she’ll be even two years from now. Cool runnings. Peace be the journey.

Well, for all the fun and exciting parts, those stressful aspects? F*ck. Or even the ones that break you down. Maaaaaaaaaan listen. You get to learn so much about yourself. It’s non-stop on-the-job training. So what are some of the aspects that will make you want to pull your hair out (unless you’re Panama Jackson and you’ve already done that)? Glad you asked.

1. School

This could largely depend on where you live. But if you live in a major city this is definitely your struggle. If you live in the suburbs already then sure, you can probably send your child to the neighborhood school and call it a day without too much stress about whether or not the education your child is getting rivals that of Eastside High after Joe Clark left but before he returned. SAMS!

Major city though? If you aren’t rich enough to send your kids to private school then you’re like everybody else struggling to get your kids into the few public schools that are actually, well, educational. In DC, we have some elementary schools that are good and for the most part, they’re all in the rich part of town, which is far as hell from the rest of us citizens. Then, there’s the fact that we have a lottery. So you have to Wait for Superman to pull your lever. That goes for charter schools and public school slots here. You visit schools and find one you like and hope that you “win the lottery”. It’s stressful. It will drive you mad. And it’s something you probably don’t think about until you have to. Sure we all think about public education. Some of us work in it. But unless you have a child who is going to experience public education then you can’t truly appreciate how stressful it is find a good fit for your child only to wait for somebody to let you know if you will be able to send your child there or if you’re going to have to 1) move; or 2) have to find a way to save the money so you can send your child to a private school and eat Ramen noodles, which you totally swore off after college.

You know what? Even before that…

2. Day care

Do you know the average cost of daycare in Washington, DC, is like $1,400. A month. That’s a mortgage. So imagine having to pay a mortgage or rent AND that as well? But then there’s the finding a day care that works for you and your family. Is it educational or just an all day playplace. Of course you want educational. What time do they open? What time do they close? Do they make food there or do you have to bring their snacks and lunch? What about their teaching method? Montessori or traditional? Then of course you have to get used to dropping your kid off at day care while they scream and yell for you for the first few weeks. Do you know what can tug at your heart? Knowing that you have to leave your kid there while they’re screaming but not being able to go pick them up because they won’t learn to separate from you if they don’t. <—probably more of a mommy issue at first. My daughter was much more okay with me leaving her then her mother. The good thing about day cares though is that some of the mothers are HOT.

Wait. What?

Crush. Kill. Destroy. Stress. It’s a lot.

3. The things you can’t fix…

My child has THE WORST ALLERGIES. I live in DC. Anybody who lives in DC with allergies will tell you how difficult that life is. I don’t have allergies but her mother does. She got them honest. Do you know how hard it is to look at your child’s face all puffy and stuffy and know there’s nothing that you can do about it short of giving them some medicine and hoping it kicks in? When your wakes up and tells you that she’s tired of being stuffy and of allergies and you know she’s stuck with them forever. It breaks me down. I can’t do anything. Hell I toyed with the idea of going back to school to get a degree in biology so that I could become a scientist and cure allergies. Then I’d probably end up dead as the allergy medicine companies colluded to have me murdered for ruining their bottom line, but you get the point.

4. OPC – Other People’s Children

I don’t typically mean your friends, but the kids in your neighborhood or when you go to a playground and some other little youngster does some sh*t you don’t approve of but its 2013 and you can’t check anybody else’s kid without fear of at best getting yelled at and at worst going to jail with the words “sexual predator” following your name forever. It sucks though, because people want their kids to play with your kids and you’re whole thougth process is like, ewww…shoo fly. Judging. Point is, you want your kid to have friends, but you’d also like to hand pick them which is nearly impossible.

Anyway, those are some stresses of parenthood. What are others folks without children don’t really realize until it happens? Hell, what are things you folks without kids think would be stressful?

Let’s get physical.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. DADDY TO YOU aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Tales From The Hood

Posted on 18 April, 2013 by Panama Jackson

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Don’t let the nice facade fool you. It’s ninjas behind those houses.

Growing up in the hood, yeah boy 1984, was the year my peers didn’t know what was in store. Probably because we were all 5 and didn’t care, but that’s neither here nor there. The fact is, when young, you don’t realize how good or bad your surroundings are. They just exist as your playground.

And oh how we played.

*tear*

I’ve had the benefit of living in many different types of areas in my life. I’ve lived in the suburbs, overseas in a major world city, the inner city, some projects and in rural ass areas where I’ve never felt more uncomfortable once I found out that I was actually black. It’s amazing what a little bit of knowledge can do to your psyche. I’ve also done some time in the country; as in the town gets a street light and its news country. Well right now, I live in Washington, DC. This is news to no one. Almost a year ago now, I purchased my first home.

Glory day.

Seeing as the average home price in DC proper sells for around $400K (you read that right) and I didn’t have that in my wallet in my good clothes, I purchased a home for somewhat less (not a whole lot) and bought in a neighborhood full of people who resembled myself. Now, if you’ve been reading this site for a good length of time you know that Atlanta, GA, and more specifically the West side of the city on MLK is my former stomping grounds. I’m not stranger to living in the ‘hood. In fact, upon telling my family members I was buying a home, they all immediately assumed I’d be buying in the hood. I’m not sure if this says something about me or them. Let’s just say they’re racist. Yes. Do that.

Anyway, so I copped a house in Southeast DC (SE). From the outside looking in, SE is known as a hood destination for hoodboogers, hoodrats, and career criminals. And while there are plenty of all three there, it’s also a place full of working class people doing working class things with their friends. I do however, live in the poorest ward in the city. I do not, however, feel unsafe at all. I’m well versed in how to survive in South Central. <—- a place where busting a cap is fundamental.

All that was a long ass introduction to what I wanted to share with you all today. Since moving in almost a year ago, I’ve been privy to some very entertaining things. And since the closer I get to youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu, the more you make me feeeeeeeeeeel like we should all be best friends, I decided to share with you all some of my tales from the hood. Basically, in case I wasn’t sure I lived in the ‘hood, here are some proof positive indicators. We could call this guess the race, but, well, come on. We know this one ends. You gon’ learn today.

(And no, I will not say exactly where I live. I recently had a situation arise with somebody trying to pinpoint my location. He (yes, he) was apparently attempting to stalk me to my home. I stay strapped. No Trojan. But yes Trojan.)

PSA: Panama Jackson does not condone gun violence. Blocka blocka.

Hmm…let’s call this things I’ve learned about living in the hood that I didn’t remember from the last time I did it…

1. You can’t fully prepare for some things that you will see. At all.

Yesterday morning while coming home to get ready for work after dropping my daughter off at school I pulled into my driveway. I opened the door and stepped out. I basked in the sun. It was delightful. It kissed me. The sun. No…solaro? I picked a dandelion as it was sitting there waiting to be picked. Then I looked up and saw one of my neighbors push a motherf*cking shopping cart OUT of his house. The end.

This does beg the question though. You know how ninjas be out in the streets selling stuff out of carts? Well, when you go home you can’t really just leave it outside can you? Some other crackhead might steal it. Then you got to go steal ANOTHER one. It’s a vicious cycle. In the house it is. Bong bong.

2. It’s always time for a block party.

Since I’ve lived in my house, nearly EVERY warm weekend has consisted of a block party. I’m talking moonbounces and balloons. And quite a few of my neighbors own club quality PA (speaker) systems. How do I know this? Well they compete. Yes. Compete. They will all place their speakers outside and blast their own music. You all familiar with go-go? Well its 90 percent treble since its all club recordings for the most part. That shit pings through your home with piercing velocity. Add to the fact that folks are always outside and there’s always a party going down.

3. Crime is never too far away, but it isn’t always scary.

Only one violent crime has happened on my street since I moved there. I’m chalking that up to coincidence since a fight that happened up the street somehow ended up on mine and a teenager ended up stabbed. He’s alive. But one time at bandcamp, I was sitting in my house with my boy and we’re watching Say Yes To the Dress or some other manly show. A Ford Expedition speeds by. Except its leaning. Why is it leaning? It only has 3 tires. Yes. Not 3 and a flat. Nope. Only 3 tires. But its doing like 45 down my street. I’m a bit hood so I shrug it off as, “eh, I’ve seen worse” (it’s true, I’ve seen a dude drive down MLK in the A on two tires). Well, 10 minutes I go to leave my house and walk out my back door and in my back alley are 5 police cars and the dude in the Expedition is laid out on the ground in handcuffs. Apparently he was doing 45 because he was running from police. Which never goes well. Trust me.

4. Intra-race Color issues persist

In case you ain’t know, I’m lightskinnded. So is my child. Every time we go outside to play “play” or something, some of the little kids always come up to tell me how lightskinnded my child is. Or talk about how pretty she is and about her eyes (I make pretty babies…call me now!). I don’t mind them calling my daughter pretty, but the constant mentions of her being light throw me off. Once while getting ice cream from the ice cream truck that comes year round…literally, one of the teens who lives by me told me how pretty she was and that the light skint babies are so pretty. She also told me I needed a gun. I told her I was holding. She shot back, “respect”. Dead ass. Nows as good a time as any to mention that I live in a neighborhood that is mixed income and has some section 8 homes and some market rate homes. I hate to point out the obvious for fear of pointing it out for a specific reason, but let’s just say, you tend to notice that most of the folks in the hood are sunkissed like a motherf*cker.

Sadatay.

That’s enough. I’ve said too much. But we’ve only just begun. So tell me what lessons you’ve learned about where you live? Help us all learn about where you live. Could you tell me how to get…how to get to Sesame Street?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. TERRACE HOMES COURT aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

How To Be Really, Really Good At Being A Black Man

Posted on 11 April, 2013 by The Champ

489

Lemme learn y’all asses to something

We received a comment last week thatÂ basicallyÂ said Black people in positions where they can help people often don’t do enough, and ended by urging Panama and I to do what we can to mentor aspiring bloggers.

AlthoughÂ I’m still not sure how I’d go about completing that task, I do want to lend a hand to help young people do what I do best: Be really, really good at being a Black man.

I don’t have all the answers for all the people out there who want to be really, really good at being a Black man, but I do have a few tips.

How To Walk

1. Whatever your normal walking speed is, decrease it by 40 percent. If it usually takes you 60 seconds to walk from your cubicle to the office bathroom, now do it in 84 seconds. Time yourself with a stopwatch ifÂ necessary.

2. While walking, slowly andÂ subtlyÂ bob your head and shoulders from side to side to the rhythm of a chopped and screwed version of Issac Hayes’s Walk On By. If this doesn’t work, David Porter’s version of Hang On Sloopy will do.

How To Look While Walking

Make sure to always look either slightly amused or slightly irritated. This will remind onlookers that you have a big penis.

How To Drive

1. Lean far enough back in your seat that people waiting for buses have to tilt their necks to see your face, but not so far that you have to sit up every time you need you hit your turn signal.

2. Make sure to time your music so that your hardest sounding track just happens to come on right when you’re at a busy intersection. Slowly bob your head, look straight ahead, and pretend like you don’t care if people are looking at you.

3. Only drive cars featured inÂ commercialsÂ narrated by a man’s voice.

How To Secure a Loan for $30,000

1. Find the nearest bank.

2. Rob it.

3. Return the next day with all of the money. This will build trust.

4. Do this two more times. After the third time, the bank manager will be so impressed by your magnanimousnessÂ that he’ll allow you to keep the money.

How To Have Sex

1. Get naked

2. After getting naked, pause to put on Timberlands and Ray-Bans.

3. Admire self in mirror.

4. Charge cell phone for 15 minutes while still admiring self in mirror.

5. While phone is charging, entertain woman by allowing her to do pull-ups and dips on penis.

6. After phone is charged, instruct woman to turn around.

7. Insert penis.

8. Start recording self

9. Say “Yeah” repeatedly to no one in particular, making sure your voice gets deeper each time.

10. Don’t forget to remember that woman is still there. Do this by asking her to say your name. Hearing your name will remind you that she is still there.

11. Dougie while climaxing.

How To Be Attractive To Black Women

1. If she happens to be dark-skinned, compliment her hair.

2. If she happens to be light-skinned, allude to her “realness” and her “commitmentÂ to the struggle.”

3. Ask her if she watched the Melissa Harris-Perry show last week. If she didn’t, she’ll think “Wow. This guy watches Melissa Harris-Perry, and I don’t.” This will arouse her. If she did, she’ll think “Wow.Â We can watch Melissa Harris-Perry together.” This will also arouse her.

4. Be tall

5. Don’t be short.

How To Grill A Bucket Of Jerk Chicken Wings

1. Have someone (preferably a woman) purchase a bucket of jerk chicken wings.

2. Place wings on grill.

3. Wear gloves for safety, and to safely smack anyone who dares near the wings before you’re done grilling.

4. Stare at jerk chicken wings like jerk chicken wings just told you a joke, and you’re trying not to laugh.

How To Let Everyone On A Packed Bus Know That Although You Gave Up Your Seat To An Attractive White Woman, Her Being An Attractive White Woman Had Nothing To Do With It

1. Give up said seat.

2. After giving up seat, she will thank you.

3. Nod your head, don’t speak, and walk to the back of the bus.

4. Remove copy of The Bluest Eye from yourÂ attache.

5. Begin reading while nodding head and taking notes.

How To Say “Word.”

1. Grow out facial hair.

2. When sufficient amount of facial hair has been grown, give self goatee.

3. Rub goatee with thumb and index finger.

4. Shake head slowly, and make face like you’re trying to remember if you need to buy a pack of bacon.

5. Say “Word.”

How To Remind People That Telling You “You kinda look like Stevie J” Isn’t Really A Compliment

1. Kinda look like Stevie J.

2. When people ask you if anyone’s ever told you that you kinda look like Stevie J, lie and say “No.”

How ToÂ SuccessfullyÂ Flirt With Cashiers At Rite-Aid

1. Kinda look like Stevie J.

2. When she asks you if anyone’s ever told you that you kinda look like Stevie J, lie and say “No.” When done lying, say “Why?”

3. When she tells you that you kinda look like Stevie J, say “Word?”

4. Tell her you want a wellness card. (Even better if you already have one.)

How To Be Humble

1. Give all praise to God. Or Allah. (Whichever floats your boat)

2. After done giving praise to God (or Allah), allow stripper to finish lap dance.

3. Don’t look like you’re enjoying it too much.

How To Be A Good Dad To Your Son If You’re Not With His Mom Anymore

1. Make son your Facebook profile pic.

2.Â SporadicallyÂ hang around and shit

2. Coach son’s Pee-Wee football team.

3. If son is good, stay in child’s life by continuing to coach.

4. If son sucks, stop coaching, but still hang aroundÂ sporadically.

Hopefully, this helps. But, if anyone still needs more assistance on how to be really, really good at being a Black man, hit me up at contact@verysmartbrothas.com

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Roll Call.

Posted on 5 April, 2013 by Panama Jackson

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So today is the last day of this week we (mostly) dedicated to our 5-year anniversary. Every so often we do this here on VSB. It seems like we’ve been fortunate to still have new folks come into the fold on occasion and establish themselves in the comments or just lurk and enjoy the show.

But, sometimes, its good to know who you’re talking to. Y’all know what it is. Since it’s really not just about what you’re talking about but who you’re talking to, I figure that to round out the week, we should do a roll call…

So here’s how we’re gonna do it.

Drop your locale (if you want to…this stalker sh*t is real outchea), and perhaps a couple interesting facts about yourself. We all pretend we’re friends in our heads anyway, so ain’t no thang but a chicken wang. Some of y’all have done this before…some of y’all are too cool to do this…

…but, even with all of the stuff some folks put out there, there are still some thangs we could all learn.

Like…I’m Panama and y’all all know I’m in the District and that I’ve got a descendent. But you may not know that I have enough siblings to make Mormons jealous. I also…

…you know what…I’m trippin.

How about just like 5 interesting things about yourself. How about that.

I’d drop them here but I think I’ve shared them all on this site. But I’ll attempt to come up with some anyway tomorrow.

That’s how much I love you all. And that’s just the kind of guy I am.

Because I loooooooooooooooooove you.

Wait…I got some…facts.

1. I used to iron my money. Seriously. #drugdealerswag

2. I was once an unknowing accomplice in a Valentine’s Day robbery of a grocery store by one of my best friends as she shoplifted her boyfriend’s gifts. I didn’t know until she got back in the car, opened up her coat and unloaded about $100 worth of items from our local grocery store. And, she didn’t offer me anything. Lesson? Never trust a chick who tells you she needs some pads but asks you to wait in the car.

3. Y’all remember when folks were buying jerseys? Yeah. I got about 20 throwbacks. None of which I’ve worn more than like twice. I’m sure I’m one of those folks with a jersey of somebody who didn’t exist. I need to get rid of them. Anybody want a Magic Johnson MSU jersey?

4. I have not one piercing nor a tattoo. I want to get my ears pierced and I want a sleeve. I just work for one of those places that would frown upon either. I’M STIFLED. GIVE US FREE.

5. Speaking of ironing money, being a southerner, I actually used to get my pants creased to high hell. All the SoCal and southern folks remember the creased Dickies. Yeah, that was me. I’ve come a long way.

Y’all got five random facts.

Tell us about you.

The floor is yours.

You too lurkers.

-VSB P

5 Things About VSB That You Didn’t Know

Posted on 3 April, 2013 by Panama Jackson

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Much like love and other drugs, VSB is a many splendid thing. Even though we’re a blog, the way this whole thing has worked is more like a music group that started from the bottom…

…now we’re here. One day there will be a vh1 style Behind The Blog: VerySmartBrothas.com special. I’m almost sure of it. I’m not sure if any of us will be talking to each other at that point, but hey, if we were, there’d be no need for a special, right?

Well one of the most important parts of having a Behind The Blog special would be some of those interesting things that have occurred or just are that people didn’t know. Between, Champ, Liz, and I, we bring a lot of different personalities (Liz and I are both Geminis so we’re like 4 people) and perspectives to the table. But Panama? He is the table.

JUDITH!!!! JUDITH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He also speaks in third person at times because, much like Mike Posner, Panama is cooler than you. Ice.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd…we’re back. So today, in the spirit of sharing (which is caring) and reading (which is fundamental) and love (which all around you everyday), we’re going to drop 5 things about VSB that you probably didn’t know but are interesting in understanding how we make it do what it do when we do it like we’re doing it for TV.

1. VSB may be the most disorganized successful enterprise in World History

Folks like to toss around words like “plan” and “strategy” when building an organization. We do too. Our problem is that as soon as we toss the words into the ring, we throw the ring out the window. Between the three of us, we’ve probably had maybe 4 or 5 strategy meetings where big ideas and inspirational plans and unicorn steakum dreams occurred and a solid 2 percent of those things have ever actually manifested themselves into fruition. And yes, that’s 4 or 5 in FIVE YEARS. We’re a living testament to talent and consistency truly winning out. There have been times when we’ve all said that if we had more execution, VSB would be running this blog sh*t. Luckily we are anyway. See what I did there?

2. Champ and I approach writing for VSB in two completely different ways.

It’s no surprise or secret to anybody that Champ is the “writer” of the two of us. I’m more of a blogger – a personality who happens to get it across via writing. As stated yesterday in the comments, this has frustrated Champ to no end at times. And nowhere is this more apparent than the approach to writing our posts.

Champ is a very meticulous writer. Very much so. There were times when he’d start his posts early in the day, write them, edit them over the course of the day right up until the time to hit publish at midnight or 245am depending on what he was doing at midnight. At one point it never took him less than a couple of hours to write his posts. That’s the writer approach and probably the way that most people who take their craft seriously approach writing anything. And as a word to the wise, if you have aspirations to become a writer and take it seriously, this is probably how you should tackle anything you write, with careful consideration and attention to detail.

This ninja Panama (aka myself), yeah, anybody who knows and talks to me via Gchat or whatever knows that a solid 75 percent of my posts were started at 1130pm or later, with a significant portion of those starting at 1145pm. It usually takes me longer to come up with the idea for the post than it does for me to write a post. Some of my “best” posts took at most 10 minutes to write. I’m the type of person who just writes whats in my head, sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn’t. It’s all a brain dump for me – which is why I also rarely remember what I’ve written. Seriously. Once I have my opening line, if you give me 10 minutes I can knock out 7 or 800 words. Again, as Champ said, sometimes this manifests itself in many typos (I HATE re-reading my posts, I think its the theater background I have, I’m a one-take person) and interesting tangents and caveats, but its the PJ Way.

3. Champ, Liz, and I have only been in the same place together at the same time twice.

And one of those times was a driveby in the car in Washington, DC. Part of VSB lore is that Champ and I met for the first time in person at our ThreeDeez, 3-year anniversary party in Washington, DC, in 2011. That after 7 years of knowing one another, 3 years of writing VSB together, and writing a book together. Well, for obvious reasons, that was the first time all three of us had been in the same place at the same time. Well, I think that only ever happened one other time when Champ and Liz were in DC for a blogging conference, Blogalicious I think, and I couldn’t make it due to family reasons. But I had to drop a box of books off so Liz and Champ came to my car to get some books, say hello to my sleeping daughter, and then peace me out. I think those are the only two times, ever.

4. Some our favorite artists have read our site.

There was nothing like the time that Teedra Moses read my post about her, then responded to it via Twitter, unintentionally sending her minions to tell me how ridiculous I was. Or the time that ?uestlove from The Roots read Champ’s post about Erykah Badu’s “Window Seat” video and tweeted it as “a had me at hello blog post…”.

Or my personal favorite, the time that I met Phonte from Foreign Exchange/Little Brother in a night club and upon hearing my name immediately knew who I was and wanted to talk about a post we’d recently had up on the site. He offered his opinion, we laughed about it because he wanted to comment but there was no way in hell he was putting his ass on the line. He then asked to take a picture with me. Do you know how odd the universe can be? That odd.

We’ve also been told by people who know people that many who are known know about VSB and read the site pretty regularly.

5. In nearly 90 percent of the cases, we each find out the next day’s topic when you do.

We don’t map out posts. Sometimes we bounce ideas of one another. Or we make sure things we write won’t cause rifts in other folks households. But the vast majority of the time, I read what Champ has to say when you do. Or later since I ain’t reading at midnight. There have been tons of times where we’ll text the other like, “yo, you stole my idea!” or “Great post. Now I can’t write about that next week.” It has happened plenty of times. There have been maybe one or two times where I’ve sent him a post ahead of time or he’s sent me a post ahead of time just to make sure that we weren’t “stepping over any lines”. But yeah, remember, there’s no strategy to this. We just do it.

So there you go, a little more insight into VSB. I’m sure Champ and Liz will drop things off as well in the comments. We’re one big ass dysfunctional happy family.