Blackhumouristpress's Blog

July 7, 2014

Saying Goodbye to Father

Filed under: Detroit,Ethnicity,humor,Mixed Race,Short Story — blackhumouristpress @ 7:00 am
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Delice, named after the Freshman school teacher that helped her mother accept the fact that she was going to become a mother at the age of 15, arrived at the hospital to see her father who was dying. She arrived wearing dowdy Amish clothing with her eldest daughter who was cross eyed and full of acne. Denise, the daughter of Delice, strummed an autoharp while her mother alternated between receiting bible verses and singing hymnals in German and English.

Delice was raised in a broken home as they were called in the seventies. She smoked pot, had sex, wore Van Shoes, Ocean Pacific clothing and had a thing for surfer boys in Los Angeles where she was raised by her mother.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

Delice moved from Los Angeles to the no-mans land in Michigan south of Detroit and north of the Ohio border. It was while working at an interstate 75 road stop that she met a young Amish man who was on his way from Michigan to Pennsylvania with family. The thought came to Delice that maybe a simple life without drugs and random sex, might be a good life. She told the young man who stopped to urinate at the rest stop and marveled at the gawdiness of the Sunoco gas station, that she had a dream about marrying an Amish man who looked exactly like him. The young man was visually taken in by the shapely and pretty young woman and so he took her with him. As time went on, Delice became more and more Amish. Maybe too Amish for most Amish.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

Now Delice had a brother who was raised in southern California, became a Punk Rock kid who moved out of his mother’s home at age fifteen and joined his sister in nowhere Michigan with their dad. Mathew Luke or Luke Mathew as he was sometimes called, lived with his father, a former Vietnam Veteran for a lot of his life. Delice’s short time with her father prior to becoming Amish, left her with different memories of life with father.

Luke Mathew’s wife, a buxom black woman who owned several hair braiding salons in and around Detroit, sat next to her husband and texted a suitor who loved her pretty smile, large ass and breasts. Dominica loved the attention but had yet to act on her urges to be with other men who were less cavemanesque than her husband. Mathew Luke’s and Dominca’s twin sons played Mindcraft on hand held computers. They really didn’t know their grandfather nor did they like him. He was old and angry looking and really white. They were kind of white but not really.

Picture this: It is a hospital room with a patient and six other people. Two are Amish, one is a white man with no hair, tattoos, scars and a sleeveless shirt to show off his arms, his buxom wife who happens to be black and their twin boys who care most for their hand held electronics. And then the patient.

Mathew Luke waited for his sister to finish praying, singing and crying over a man she never really knew. After a thirty minute prayer that was more like a eulogy, Luke Matthew was given the chance to say a few words to his dad who was left unable to speak due to a stroke.

“Pop…you were a mean motherfucker. As a kid, my friends and all thought you looked like Charles Manson. You were a drunk, a mean drunk that shot at people who owed you money, made racist comments my whole life including calling my two boys, “the little brown ones”. Your fixation with young Asian girls is warped, your hygiene is poor as is your attitude. You should have died in that house fire ten years ago when you were burned over 65% of your body. I was told then that you would die and I knew you wouldn’t. I told them that any man who could drink and smoke for a week straight without eating and sleeping, could suddenly stop the self abuse, eat a yogurt and then jog ten miles, could not die so easily by a mere burn. Most people would have died from the pain but you lived off of the pain of life. It keeps you going. Sure you can hear me and you love the idea that your daughter who has joined a Germanic cult has come to sing songs and recite bible verses that need to go through a translator. It ain’t a bad thing. I look here today at my two boys who cannot hear me right now because they are engrossed in some mindless bullshit that I don’t understand on computers. They will stand over me one day hopefully and say something kind. So I will say something kind too. You are a strong man with a will to go on despite the fact that you have abused your liver for over forty years. On the other hand you are a racist and an angry loner. You were given the gift of a high metabolism and great stamina to have a physique of a thirty year old man while in your sixties. You helped me at times of self doubt to not be a pussy. You made me fight other boys that I was afraid to fight or face you. I was always willing to fight others than have to face you. When I thought I was impotent because I couldn’t maintain an errection due to nerves as a teen, you told me to relax and have the girl, “pop it in her mouth the way your mom once did for me”. So in closing, I don’t think you are on the way out. I think you’ll bounce back as you have so many other times before…”

Wade, their father motioned with a slightly operational right hand for a pad of paper and a pen. Wade scribbled something barely legible. It was short and to the point. It astounded Delice but not Mathew Luke. This is what it said:

FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING PUNK ASS BITCH.

November 3, 2010

A Mother on the Edge or I Ain’t Sayin She’s a Goldiggah

Filed under: Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 6:32 pm
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My dearest family,
First off I would thank you for your caring and concern.  Yes, I took the chance to take a trip without Tim and after 10 precious months of sobriety he faltered. I’m sure each of you who care is asking, how I reacted when I reached home.
(Translation: THANKS FOR YOUR HOSPITALITY ON SUCH SHORT NOTICE.  AFTER TEN MONTHS OF CONSTANT BABYSITTING, I LEFT FOR A SABBATICAL AND RETURNED TO FIND THAT LATENT HOMOSEXUALITY AND ALCOHOLISM HAS RESURFACED LIKE A SEA MONSTER.)
 
I had no idea what I would say, do, or think.  I do know that I was raw, ripped apart, and left for dead emotionally. The only thing that kept my mind, heart and mind from exploding was PRAYER!  There is not much you can say to a drunken person, if you lash out it only wounds their already self-hating soul, it may give the person lashing out a brief moment of release, but the words can’t be taken back. (Translation: I CAME HOME TO FIND THAT CAPTAIN MORGAN HAS ONCE AGAIN RANSACKED MY HOME.  I CAN ONLY PRAY THAT MY PHONE BILL WILL NOT BE CLOSE TO A GRAND AGAIN FOR 1-900 GUYSLOVE.  SPEAKING OR RAW AND RIPPED, HOW MANY TIMES CAN A MIDDLE AGED MAN MASTERBATE AND WHY CAN’T HE AT LEAST PULL HIS GODDAMN PANTS BACK UP?  FOR FUCK’S SAKE.)
 
As I sat across the room from this shell of a human being I once loved so dearly my heart cracked with pity and compassion. I prayed again silently, asking that the Holy Spirit would guide my words and help control my own feelings for the sake of this sad creature.  The words came, and they were calm and just and clear…it was as if I had left and someone else had stepped into my being. (TRANSLATION: I ASKED MYSELF WHAT IT IS THAT OPRAH WOULD DO OR SUGGEST I DO VIA SOME THERAPIST DU JOUR. I JUST RETURNED FROM MEETING AN OLD FLAME FROM HIGH SCHOOL THAT HAS AN INDOOR JACUZZI AND POOL.  HE IS GOING TO RETIRE IN A FEW YEARS AND NEEDS SOMEONE TO HELP HIM SPEND ALL THAT MONEY.  I CAN ONLY PRAY THAT HE WILL NOT CHANGE HIS MIND.  THANK GOD I STILL HAVE SOME SEX APPEAL LEFT…  LOOK AT THIS PATHETIC FUCK.  I SHOULD KICK HIM SQUARE IN THE ASS.)
 
At this time I have set up counseling sessions to help guide me to a choice I know I have to make. I ask that you keep me and Tim in your good thoughts and prayers so that this choice, when it comes will be less painful and that the wounds heal quickly. Until I choose a direction in this matter, I will continue to be strong in my resolve to do the best.  I ask patience from those I know love me as mother, and friend and help me when I feel like I’m going to die inside from having to do what will save me and hurt another. (TRANSLATION: LOOK, THIS IS MY FIFTH MARRIAGE. A DIVORCE IS NOTHING MORE THAN A FIRE DRILL AT THIS POINT… AND ALTHOUGH THE LEGALITY OF SPLITTING EVERYTHING REALLY SUCKS AND I JUST WIND UP MAKING SOME YOUNG ATTORNEY WEALTHY, IT HAS TO HAPPEN SOON.  I KNOW A THERAPIST WHO WILL SAY ALL THE RIGHT THINGS SO THAT THIS CREATURE UNDERSTANDS HE’S JUST A DRAIN ON MY LIFE AND THAT I’M JUSTIFIED IN WALKING AWAY WHILE I STILL HAVE OPTIONS.)
 
I love each of you and again thank you in advance for your support, understanding and comfort. I too wish I could blink and all would be resolved and behind me, but life does not work that way.  Everything is possible with GOD and with the good will we have within each of us to do things right. (TRANSLATION: I LEARNED FROM MY MENONITE/BORN AGAIN DAUGHTER, THAT USING GOD AS A CRUTCH FOR EVERYTHING ABSOLVES YOU QUITE A BIT.  JUST SAY, I PRAYED ABOUT THIS AND GOD WANTS ME TO LEAVE YOU… AND THEN TAKE HALF. AMEN.)
 
I hesitate to pick up the phone and talk right now, I can’t talk…I have this horrible knot in my stomach and heart. I know you understand. This to me is like a very slow death, I dread the funeral. (TRANSLATION: I ACTUALLY CALLED TWO OF MY THREE CHIDREN AND GOT VOICE MAIL.  THAT’S WHY I DECIDED TO WRITE YOU THIS WHILE DRINKING A GLASS OF WINE.  ACTUALLY TWO.  I HAVE TO REMEMBER TO CALL MY ATTORNEY IN THE MORNING TO GET THIS ALL GOING.)
 
My love and blessings to all,
 
Mommy
 

December 21, 2009

The weight of Paradise

Filed under: Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 8:14 am
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George sat in his apartment at the Paradise Inn with a view of the automotive repair shop that was across the alley from his room at Paradise. George’s room consisted of a desk with a television, a bed and a Gideon’s Bible on the night stand. The room came furnished and cost George $400.00 per month. If George were to go outside and stand in the drive way across from the Veteran’s hospital, he could see stars and planets at night or large letters like a heavenly beacon. The sign with fifteen foot letters reads; Miller Park. It was subliminal, George wanted and needed a beer and one beer would lead to another beer and so on.

“Organic solution guaranteed to help you lose weight. You don’t need drugs. With our books, you can learn how to control diabetes, erectile dysfunction. The FDA doesn’t want you to have this book, the drug companies don’t want you to hear the secret that lies within the pages of this treasure. Natural remedies for asthma, irritable bowel syndrome, stop smoking. This is the new updated version you must have. You can lose a pound a day with hundreds of thousands of people each twenty four hour period… Have your credit card ready. Operators are standing by…”
George took a large swig of his beer that had a woman in a dress holding a beer on the beer bottle itself. It’s the Highlife (registered trademark).
“For $19.95 follow these three techniques. Motivated for success to make hundreds of thousands per week. You cannot fail… Here’s how it works…”
George was born in 1947 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He grew up and served in Vietnam. While there as an eighteen year old boy, he became addicted to pills and alcohol. While in Vietnam, George was exposed to a chemical that changed his life forever.
Agent Orange was given its name from the color of the 55 US gallons (210 L) orange-striped barrels it was shipped in. It is a roughly 1:1 mixture of two phenoxyl herbicides in iso-octyl ester form, 2,4-dichlorophenoxyacetic acid (2,4-D) and 2,4,5 trichlorophenoxyacetic acid (2,4,5-T).

2,4-D

2,4,5-T
Internal memos from the companies that manufactured it reveal that at the time Agent Orange was sold to the U.S. government for use in Vietnam it was known that it contained a dioxin, 2,3,7,8-tetrachlorodibenzodioxin (TCDD), a by-product of the manufacture 2,4,5-T. The National Toxicology Program has classified TCDD to be a human carcinogen, frequently associated with soft-tissue sarcoma, non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, Hodgkin’s disease and chronic lymphocytic leukemia (CLL). In a study by the Institute of Medicine, a link has been found between dioxin exposure and diabetes
Three studies have suggested an increase in the risk of acute myelogenous leukemia in the children of Vietnam veterans, which might be associated with exposure to Agent Orange. A variety of other conditions have been suggested to be linked to exposure, but studies have failed to confirm a link with these diseases. Just 1 kilogram (2.2 lb) of TCDD was released in the Seveso disaster causing widespread effects on people and livestock.

George changed the channel while lying in bed. He twisted another cap to the top of a fresh new bottle of beer while holding a cigarette between his index and middle finger on his right hand.

“You are gaining weight due to stress. Your adrenal glands are causing you to gain weight even though you are doing all the right things. Our plan treats the cause and not the symptoms. Your job, the economy is making you fat. This is an all natural product that will help you lose weight through revitalization of your adrenal glands. Stress attacks your adrenal glands causing weight gain. Call now for your free sample.”

On any given day, a million thoughts run through George’s head while drinking beer and taking antidepressants. The idea of visiting Thailand, Arizona, North Carolina, taking martial arts, learning to use the computer, the chemicals in beef and milk and then the afterlife.

Another cigarette, another beer, urinate, rinse repeat …

“The tribulation, seven years in length divided up in two parts is due to the fact that there are two empires and one is swallowed up during the seven year period. There are ten nations that will exist with this empire. To form this new empire, you must unite regions by culture and religion. The EU has put nations together. The United States, Canada, Mexico and South America will be joining together as a global economic unit. The question remains; who are the ten kings of bible prophesy? King Nebuchadnezzar had a dream of an image that had two feet with ten toes… Are you following this? Two empires made up of ten nations at the time when the messiah comes back. Daniel chapter seven or Revelations chapter 13, you see the horns on the beast, there are always ten in number. There are ten Germanic tribes that overthrew the Roman Empire. Jesus was supposed to return at this time but Jesus did not return. I believe there is a possibility he is on his way now though. In 1954, the Plan of Rome that was devised by the Biderberg Group of Rome divided the world into ten global regions.
1. America, Canada, Mexico
2. South America
3. Australia and New Zealand
4. Western Europe
5. Eastern Europe
6. Japan
7. South Asia
8. Central Asia
9. North Africa and the Middle East
10. The remainder of Africa

The ten kings are the heads of these ten regions. Whether you like it or not, a new world order is coming…

It was all getting to heavy for George. The weight of gravity was getting to be too much for George.

The mass of an object is a fundamental property of the object; a numerical measure of its inertia; a fundamental measure of the amount of matter in the object. Definitions of mass often seem circular because it is such a fundamental quantity that it is hard to define in terms of something else. All mechanical quantities can be defined in terms of mass, length, and time. The usual symbol for mass is m and its SI unit is the kilogram. While the mass is normally considered to be an unchanging property of an object, at speeds approaching the speed of light one must consider the increase in the relativistic mass.
The weight of an object is the force of gravity on the object and may be defined as the mass times the acceleration of gravity, w = mg. Since the weight is a force, its SI unit is the Newton. Density is mass/volume.

George watched a nature show where the world spun like a big blue marble. It was hard for him to believe he lived on such a place that really is very insignificant in the larger scheme of things. A planet in a solar system and a solar system in a galaxy and a galaxy in a universe. George could go at any moment and the only one who would know is the woman who would have to clean his room.
The last bit of information scared the hell out of George before he closed his eyes and floated down stream to a happier place on earth; his own mind during sleep. In his sleep he felt himself flying out of control. Is it any wonder?

By the way, if Earth spun about 800 times faster, it would hurl us off the surface and into space.

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