Sunday, July 24, 2005

Faves and Peeves

Here are all things Devas T.; favored and unfavored:

Things he faves:

High fructose ropes
I'm not sure when this love affair began, probably sometime around his high school freshman year. This mom-and-pop convenience store, a hop-and-a-skip down the block from his school, kept their shelves fully stocked with those oowie-gooie strawberry confections better known as Twizzlers. Longing for something sweet, he never much cared for those black licorice things. Breakfast was shunned, and so was his lunch, in favor of these pull apart twists.

Reading anything Richard Wright
There's something about the way Richard Wright tells a story. When Devas T. opens one of his books, his attention span, normally short, is quickly widened, as he is compelled into a story of fight, flight, oppression, corruption and adventure.

Man supplies
English Leather body wash and a brand-spankin' new package of Fruit of the Looms (The idea that he, too, might look in his skivvies, like the guy on the box is enough inspiration for him to continue crunching his abs, and doing deep squats.) These are the things that a wife can provide that makes a brotha feel loved. Oh, and she mus'nt forget, a brand new tube of tooth paste, blue Listerine, Magic Shave and some Ban. Oh, baby—oh yes!

Toss out the Cold-Eeze
There's something painfully wonderful about running a one-hundred-and-one-degree fever, skin crawling chills, ears so clogged he can't hear a thing. His burning throat, a nose with one nostril blocked, and eyes burning bright red. That's when he sips, ever so slowly, a cup of lemon and honey TheraFlu and shoos away everyone in sight, so he can enjoy his beautiful agony in peace, with a touch of sympathy from the wife. Heaven.

Scale model cars
This brotha will never in his lifetime, on the salary of a children's book artist or a graphics reporter, be able to afford the luxury of a Ferrari, a Hummer, or an Oscar Mayer Weiner Mobile. So Hot Wheels will do. And they do. He's blessed.

Things he peeves

Washa de handsa (As Madonna might say)
There is nothing that offends this brotha more, than standing in front of a men's room stall, and hearing the drip-drip-drip, as the man standing next to him fling-fling-flings, then flushes and exits without washing his hands. Ugg at the thought of washing his own hands then having to touch a urine stained door knob. That's why he always opens public restroom doors, paper towel in hand.

Good service costs?
The last thing this brotha wants, after eating an over-priced dinner at an elegant downtown restaurant, is to pay a gratuity in the form of more money. You mean a thank-you won't do? Maybe he's just growing old and grumpy. Or maybe he's just plain ole cheap. Is it too much to expect, to be served his food, with a sprightly smile, in a timely manner, by a waitress with old fashioned home-taught manners? Probably so. Now, don't get me wrong, yes, the brotha does tip his twenty-percent, 'cause he knows what they say when a black man's waiting to be seated. "You wait that table, 'cause black folk don't tip."

Fashion trends
Is it somehow trendy or fashionable or completely necessary, he thinks to himself, for parents to adopt a child from half way across the world, when a child right here, in their own back yard needs a loving family? Children aren't Chihuahuas, some kind of exotic breed to show off. He wonders to himself if parents in Italy or Romania or China like to adopt black children from Harlem, simply because they are cute, or in vogue? He scratches his head.

What more can reveal a persons retardical ways, than driving a car, a really cheap car, with silvery rims, that spin in reverse.

Hack and spit
If you're jogging along and breathe in a fly, without question, go right ahead: snort him deep into your nose, thoroughly mix in thick salivate, then hack, snort and let her rip. Devas T. won't complain. But to spit on the walkway, or road, for that matter, for the mere pleasure of spitting, come on, please pleasure yourself in other ways.

No speak Spanglish in Texas
After walking into a Taco Cabana and ordering a flauta, which he pronounced floota, the cashier frowns up her face, and corrects him. "Flautas" she says, the words rolling nimbly off the tip of her tongue. She turns her head and jibber-jabbers something he didn't understand, in a language unfamiliar to a transplanted Texan. She and a coworker laughed to themselves, leaving him to wonder, "did I do something wrong?" If something is said, on American ground, why can't it be said, in a language a brotha can understand — ebonics.

Eight is bad luck
This next item relates more to phobe than to peeve, but this phobe happens to peeve a brotha as well. Can you name the thing that is small enough to fit in a jar, that has eight legs, eight eyes and fangs? No, not a monster nor alien goon. But, yes, I speak of no less than a spider. Large as your fist or small as a toe, this brotha proudly professes arachnophillic tendencies. I remember the day one of these eight-legged mongrels took his truck — ratty as it is — hostage for almost an hour. He returned to his truck after eating his lunch, and upon preparing to leave, he sensed something move. That’s when he spied it, hovering on the edge of his seatbelt: a big, black, hairy, jumping and hissing spider. Ok, maybe it didn't hiss, but it may as well, because he damn near broke all ten of his fingers, as well as his seatbelt trying to get out. One hour, four phone calls, three thrown books and alot of sweat was lost before he finally won the battle for his ride, and killed the beast, who had cowardly scuttled off beneath hid seat. But a brotha was not going anyplace with the legend of bigfoot, loose in his truck.


Susan Taylor Brown said...

Oh dear, now I'm going to have think up some faves and peeves of my own. But wanted to say I responded more to your post in my blog and if you are bothered by the comment you left there, you can delete it. There's a little trash can next to the comment. I won't be offended if you want to take it off there but I don't think you said anything less than honest, which is all I could ask for.

Luke Cage said...

Now, see that? That's a man's list. You don't have lame simply things up there, like collecting comicbooks, airbrushing, oil painting, writing fictional stories, DVD and Movie collecting, Todd McFarlane Toys, building computers, photography..,etc. etc.. hey, what the heck am I talking about? that's MY list! -lol

Hey Todd, the list is on point man. Loved the Scale models car plug. Nice touch.

Miss A. said...

I love wearing men's fruit of the loom boxer briefs... they are soooooooo comfy! Especially when they belong to MY man! heehee

Twizzlers... mmmm... *pick up when at grocery store*

HotWheels! HOT DAYUM! Who didn't play with them? Oscar Myer Weinermobiel... haha... I wanna drive the real thing!

Tipping... hmmm... I used to be a waitress... being paid $2.25-$2.75 an hour and relying on tips and not being tipped is one way to send a food server postal. 20% is now the going rate for tips... AND That's off the total amount of food you've purchased! One should not undertip, EVA, and no one should overtip unless the service was beyond excellence! If you not gonna tip, do us servers a favor, stay ya ass at home or hit a fast food restaurant! Otherwise, expect lousy service....

Black people do tip, damnit! Not all of 'em, but most of them do tip, and very well!!!!

Great and interesting post!

nahmix said...

LOL...I totally agree with people who don't wash their hands. I once saw an employee of a restaurant walk out of the ladies room without washing her hands....YUCK!!! Also, rims on a cheap car and/or stero system on a cheap car aggravate me, especially when the music is so loud you can hear it coming a mile away, and then when you see the car it looks as if the base alone will make the car fall right apart! it makes no sense!

Friar Tuck said...

You crack me up.

Fruit of the Looms huh?

The bathroom comment made me laugh too.

Rinda M. Byers said...

Don, I agree TOTALLY about the adopting of kids from overseas, especially when it is only very young children, when we have so many, epecially older ones, here in the U.S. who need homes. There needs to be a balance somehow in is always so painful to see the needs...sigh...perhaps a lot less war in the world?

Tipping? Those restaurants need to pay their workers better and leave out the tipping stuff, period. I know. I used to work in a fancy place as front-line cook for dirt nothing...the waiters did better than I did money-wise...

I left a couple of comments in response to yours over on my blog.

LOVE this blog, Don! I got my husband laughing so hard over Snerdly that he nearly cut himself shaving...

Christopher M. Beatrice said...

great post there is one thing us American men can agree on and that is hot wheels. YAAAA. I agree that is the only way I could afford those high dollar cars as well. Although those new Hanes comfort wasteband boxers got me hooked lol. Anyway I liked this post maybe I will post some too.

princessdominique said...

I'm with you allll the way with Twizzlers. They are my most favorite candy on the planet. At least now when they're all sold out, I know where they went!

Nikki said...

English Leather is still on the market? I thought that stuff died out with the 80's.

Oricon Ailin said...

Great list, Don!! LOL!!! I say the same thing about the car rims. Can't understand why someone would want to put "spinners" on their crappy car, when the spinners cost more than that car originally did. hehehe

AND...I have to agree with Miss A. and others about the tipping. I worked as a waitress for 4 years, and it sucked. But, hey, I was going to college. I worked for tips. I got paid $2.32 an hour and was expected to make up the rest in tips to make minimum wage. if I didn't, and the company had to make it up, I got docked hours. *sighs*

San Nakji said...

I don't get the whole tipping thing. People from here are always at a loss when we go over there. "How much should we tip?" "Is he ripping us off?" "Will he kill us if we don't tip?" I don't know how you deal with the pressure!

Don Tate II said...

@Nikki: English Leather did die in the 80s, but its back in the form of body wash! No more hand soap in the shower for me when I got my English Leather. Of couse, Lever2000 body wash gets a brotha excited, too.

@ Cage: Todd, who is Todd?

@ Chris: Hanes comfort wasteband! I will be trying those out real soon.

@Rinda: Thanks so much. That compliment goes a long way.

NjDivaGirl said...

I feel your pain about the hand washing, spinning rims and spiders. I once worked with a lady who had a germ phobia. She would cover her mouth and move quickly away from people. Yet at the same time she would run out the ladies room without washing her hands. NASTY HEFFA!

Luke Cage said...

Todd McFarlane toys are like the "Rolls Royce" of detailed oriented toys man. He's also the guy who created the Spawn comicbook line. Here's a link. You've gotta check it out. It's really fly man...

Campfyah said...

Really nice blog. Can't believe that someone else likes Twizzlers. I used to eat them mindless while driving along.

I'm so with you on the adoption issue. I always wonder the same thing too...why go all the way to wherever to adopt a child that looks nothing like you when you have so many in your backyard.

The hawk and spit issue always gets to me, living her in areapaland, I have to walk looking at the road, cause the people here just hawk and spit any and everywhere even inside bldgs.

Phil Plasma said...

strawberry ice cream
collective non violent action
sporadic blog entries made of lint
typing with both hands

blatant greed
moments of idiocy that strech on for too long
sporadic blog entries made of ketchup

Aziza said...

We must think alike. I can't stand to see other ladies not wash their hands in the restroom. I hate that. And that's why I really don't like attending office parties, because I know who fixed that food. Ewww...

And I can't stand those folks that hack and spit. While I was waiting in my car at a stoplight, the person in the car next to me rolled down his window and spit. It looked like the spit may have ended up near or on my car. I was not the happy camper. I get tired of people and their nasty ways.

Meka said...

I am soooo feeling the handwashing comment. It is one of my biggest pet peeves, and I love love love Twizzlers. Good post!

captain_howdy_girl said...

Great blog and your photo is very cute!

Jdid said...

I've got some richard wright i need to read. I started black boy a long time ago and never fnished too

feeling you on the fashion trend too

Brea said...

I nearly crashed my car over a spider - I totally understand that one!