At A Moments Notice...

Wow...I have a little brother. Maybe to some of you this is not a big deal but to me it means everything. I've always wanted a lil' brah, someone to kick it with, roll with, teach a thing or two. Sure I have nieces and nephews, and a younger cousin or two, but it's not the same. Little brothers, probably alot like little sisters, look up to their older counterpart and depend on them to drop all types of knowledge about life and love and are expected to be ready willing and able to answer questions mom and dad would probably faint if ever asked directly.

I was fortunate enough to have two older brothers, though I can honestly say I never really learned anything from either one of them, except of course what not to do to go to jail. Man my brothers were out-of-control. I could blame New York for their wackness in the decision department, but I won't. I could blame the system that appears purposely set up to seek out and destroy black men, but I won't. I could even blame my parents for not realizing brutal force is often needed to keep young black men from falling by the wayside, but I won't. Their decisions were well thought out realizations. Growing up in a place like New York---or any urban setting for that matter---you get to see first hand what bad decisions can lead to; so it's kind of hard for me to believe they had no idea what they were getting themselves into when they decided to take over the world.

I sometimes wonder if their lives would have turned out differently if they had an older brother. Someone to help direct their path. Someone to run shit by just to see if thier decisions made sense. I used to want that, but since my brothers were so busy trying to take over a neighborhood they'd never really run (but you couldn't tell them that), I had to do without.

I learned a lot on my own though. Things I will not share here, since many are not things I'm proud of, but let's just say I'm glad I learned these things before I got caught up in a life I wouldn't be able to lead, effectively. Which leads me back to my lil' brah...a young man I'm proud to call a friend. He's a good kid, seventeen and eager to grab life by the balls and squeeze. Our conversations run the the gamut, and we're both actually learning something. He, things I wish someone would have told me at seventeen, and I how to be carefree and young again. He actually has me playing video games again damn-it! Something I haven't done consistently since Atari 5200 was the shit! And I probably could beat him if only I could master the damn controls on this X-Box, and figure out what the fuck a Halo 2 is...

Whatever happened to the joystick anyway?