Profunksticated

Profunksticated had to come out of hiatus for a minute to comment on the loss of Michael Jackson.

I can’t believe I’m feeling a certain kind of way. I feel like I lost a second cousin who was my age. When I first heard the Jackson 5, I honestly believed whoever singing lead was a girl. I found out otherwise, of course. Girls in my fifth grade class would play those large-spindle-hole 45 rpm J5 records such as I Want You Back on those snowy days we could not go out for recess.

I liked the Jacksons when I was 10, 11 and 12, but as I entered my teen years, they became just another group playing in the soundtrack of my life. That’s not to say I didn’t like them. But their still-bubblegum style was competing for my musical attention with funkier groups such as the Ohio Players, Kool and the Gang, Earth Wind and Fire, War, and of course, Parliament-Funkadelic. Matter of fact, the first album I ever bought was a Motown label, but not the Jackson 5 . It was Stevie Wonder Presents Syreeta. I loved the cut I Want to Be By Your Side.

By about 1975, I figured the Jacksons were done as I hadn’t heard much from them.

But then in early 1977, my senior year in high school, I was laying half-asleep on the couch in the living room with WDAS-FM playing on the stereo when I heard this real smooth cut with a group singing the lyrics “Let me show you the way to go.” I was shocked when I found out those singers were the Jacksons, minus Jermaine, on a new record label. Wow, they’ve come back and strong, I thought.

Then Michael went off on his own and blew up like a hydrogen bomb. You all know the rest of Michael’s story, so I won’t rehash it here.

My 21-year-old daughter shares a birthday with Michael Jackson, which is August 29. My wife went into labor on August 28, 1987. Had it not been for the fact that our baby was too big for my wife to push out — the doc tried everything to bring our baby into the world, including forceps and a Dirt Devil (just kidding) — my wife would not have undergone the Caesarean section that resulted in the birth of our first child, weighing in at nine pounds, seven ounces, at 32 minutes past midnight Mountain Time on the 29th.

Had our daughter been born before midnight, on Aug. 28, she would have shared a birthday with one Richard Sanders. Who is Richard Sanders, you ask? He’s the actor who portrayed the nerdy, bumbling newsman Les Nessman on the sitcom WKRP in Cincinnati.

Nothing against Mr. Sanders, but I think my daughter got the better end of the deal, being able to brag that she shares a birthdate with the late King of Pop.

RIP, Michael Jackson. And may God comfort the Jackson family in their time of loss.

Pro did not have a great week on the blog posting front. I made a crude comment regarding the First Lady on another site, calling myself being funny. But I got slammed big time. And then I was reminded that I made an inappropriate comment toward a female blogger on a social networking site a few days earlier.

I apologized to the site owner twice. The first was filled with justifications, an email borne of muddled thinking. The second, which I should have written first, was a straight-up mea culpa I wrote the following day that I insisted be published by the site owner under my blog name.

A day later I called the female blogger in question and apologized to her and she accepted, thank God. It pains me to realize, however, that I may have killed what was a budding friendship between myself, and this lady and her husband, who have in the past invited me into their home. I’m pretty sure now they will keep me at arm’s length. Can’t say I blame them; I’d probably do the same.

Suffice to say there are certain things you shouldn’t post anywhere, much less on a site read by strong women. If you want to know details, we’ll have to discuss it privately, although I’d just as soon put the whole embarrassing episode behind me.

On a related note, I’ve found myself making snarky comments on course material during discussions in my online class. I’m sure my instructor appreciates it. (Sure, right.) And I was called out on said networking site for denigrating a whole group of media as “idiots” for mispronouncing the surname of the President’s Supreme Court nominee, Sonia Sotomayor. Again, I felt compelled to apologize.

All this had me considering abandoning blogging and otherwise playing online altogether, but instead, I’ve concluded this is a good time to put Profunksticated on hiatus for a few months until I get my head back together.

I believe the stress of working away from home, attempting to find another gig, trying to stay a step ahead of the spinning blades of the wheat thresher that is foreclosure, doing this master’s program and dealing with what I believe are some serious issues in my marriage is starting to catch up with me. And, oh, not to mention dealing with the mess (he doesn’t believe it’s a mess, obviously) my younger male sibling has created between he and his older sons.

You may think this sounds like excuse-making, but it’s the truth. I’ve got work to do on myself in terms of doing more prayer and more earnestly working the 12 steps of the recovery program. That leaves little time for blogging.

In the meantime, browse the archives. I’ll check in from time to time to see if a comment’s been left.

I’ll be back in a few months, I’m not sure exactly when. In the meantime, thanks for reading, take care and may God bless you all.

Again, sorry for the lag between posts. Work and grad school have taken up a lot of old Pro’s time. But now I’m at home in the Philly-South of NJ being Dad to my youngest one while The Spouse is traveling in, get this — Argentina and Uruguay in South America for 10 days. It’s a trip she’s taking with a group from the college at which she teaches as an adjunct professor. She’s using it as some sort of educational experience in conjunction with her doctoral program.

I’m going back to work next week, then I’ll take the following week off as my first week of company-forced unpaid leave. (I would have used this week as unpaid leave, but we cannot take such leave during a week in which there’s a paid holiday, in this case, Memorial Day.)

Other stuff:

My bro is getting married to his youngest son’s mom. I haven’t posted about bro lately, but you might remember that he’d had a longstanding relationship with this woman while his late wife was ill. His wife died in March 2008 and the kid was born three months earlier. I’m pretty sure his two older sons are gonna be less than happy. While on the phone with him, he passed it to her, when she asked me how she felt about having her as an SIL. I was taken aback, but blurted out “Fine!” OK, I was lying. But I’m hoping to have a convo with the both of them.

I’m stepping up my search for another gig. My salary at the current job simply isn’t justifying the costs of me maintaining a house in NJ and renting a room in northern VA. And speaking of gigs, I’m using my unpaid leave week to take the Foreign Service Officer’s Test for the U.S. Department of State. The test center is in Philly. (Seems the available seats for this upcoming test period filled up quick in the DMV area.) Look, I’m almost 50 and haven’t been outside of the United States, save Tijuana, Mexico and Nassau, Bahamas. I don’t think San Juan, PR, counts since it is technically is part of the U.S. And the nice thing about foreign service officer gigs is that you can be hired up to your 60th birthday. I can’t wait to show ‘em my passport as ID when I report to the test center.

I’ve gotten into juicing. I bought a $60 Hamilton Beach juicer from Wal Mart (OK, so shoot me!!) a few weeks back and have discovered how great carrot juice tastes. And just yesterday, I made a slamming carrot cake out of the carrot pulp! My thing now is to juice oranges, apples and grapefruit and then blend the juice with a banana and frozen strawberries. It makes a great breakfast smoothie and helps with the weight control.

And speaking of weight, I’m still holding at in the mid-220s range while doing mostly walking in the mornings. I’d like in the short term to drop below 220.

That’s all for now. Peace.

Just wanted to let ya’ll know that the recount in the Spouse’s bid for school board in our NJ town was held this morning and it confirmed that she lost by seven votes. She’s still glad she did it and hope it inspires folk to take a closer look at the school district that once employed her.

All I can say is that I hope this project raises her profile enough to where her husband will one day no longer have to work.

Hello, all,

With Mother’s Day approaching, I thought I’d share with you this poem by a friend of mine from my recovery fellowship. Give her some support though the site. Thanks.

Just thought I’d share with you readers a well-done video on how we got into this so-called credit mess:

The Crisis of Credit Visualized from Jonathan Jarvis on Vimeo.

Random stuff:

The Spouse plans to petition for a recount in the recent school board election in our NJ township. Now that the absentee ballots have been counted, she is behind the third-place candidate (who is the only incumbent running this year) by only five votes of more than 3,400 cast. She plans to show election officials a pattern of impropriety, including the incumbent refusing to leave a polling place when told to leave by election officials and a poll worker at one site almost getting into my wife’s face because she was slightly within the 100-foot distance from the doors.

I’ve spoken to my landlady, who also is a teacher, about the results. She recalled that she helped a fellow teacher with a Virginia school board campaign some years back. Of course the teacher played up her educational credentials, just like my wife. But that woman lost. My landlady’s blunt assessment is that “no one gives a damn” about educational credentials when it comes to school board politics. She suggested that if my wife runs again next year, she hold her nose and try to align herself with the local political establishment.

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I saw the movie Obsessed with some friends at an early Sunday morning showing in Virginia. I sat with my arms across my chest for about the second half of the flick with a scowl. Why?

I really wasn’t feeling Idris Elba’s character Derek being put out of the house by Beyonce’s Sharon because he DID NOT MENTION that some crazy woman on the job was trying hard to come on to him. And Derek, unlike a lot of men and to his credit, didn’t bite. If I’m Idris/Derek, I’d have morphed into Stringer Bell and had the bee-yotch whacked.

Sorry, if that’s me, I’m gonna be real pissed if my wife tries to put me out behind a failure to say something. I’m not moving. She may have a right to be upset. However, not saying something, as a marital offense, doesn’t rise to the level of being asked to leave the home. And many men will tell you that the reason they won’t say anything is because they fear receiving precisely the same irrational reaction Sharon exhibited.

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I just wrapped up my first course in the IT master’s program, which was Managing the IT-Enabled Enterprise. Now it’s on to Business Architecture and Process. One thing disturbed me. We were assigned to review and comment on each others’ final group papers, describing a restaurant’s IT environment and action plan.

I found two of the papers appalling in that they were filled with misspellings, bad grammar and busted syntax. And this is supposed to be graduate-level work? I wanted badly to say something, but all the comments are open on a thread for everyone to see, and I didn’t want to embarrass anyone. I initially chalked the bad writing up to students for whom English is not their first language. I see that here at work all the time and have to clean up that writing. I checked the authors’ names on one particularly bad paper, but those names indicated to me they were born right here in the United States. I’m thinking I may speak with my academic advisor about that.

Fortunately, my group’s paper was relatively clean, thanks to yours truly.

The top three vote getters win three seats on the school board in our NJ town. When the votes cast Tuesday were counted by 11 p.m. ET Tuesday, my candidate wife ended up finishing fourth — by nine stinkin’ votes. So our hope now is that the still-to-be counted absentee ballots will pull her into third place.

And the guy she’s trailing is an incumbent who had to be told by county elections offiicials to remove himself from inside a polling place — where he was allegedly doing illegal electioneering. This guy was nose to nose at one point with one of my wife’s supporters, an incumbent board member who chose not to run this year and who doesn’t take no isht.

My wife could contest the result, saying the slate on which the three leading candidates ran on is illegal in New Jersey school elections. She did say she’d pray on it.

If anything good comes out of this, it is that my wife has thrown a scare into the political machine that influences politics in our town and county. This cabal is has been put on notice that there are some people who are sick of the culture of incestuous relationships and private gain trumping true public service.

Damn, this isht pisses me off.

Hello, all, today is school board election day throughout New Jersey. The Spouse, as I have blogged before, is one of four candidates vying for three seats on the nine-member Board of Education in our township. The other three candidates are running as a slate, which we believe is illegal, but illegality has never stopped folks in New Jersey from doing what they want.

We believe the current superintendent and some board members do not want to see my wife elected because, having been a teacher in our local high school who was placed in an illegal classroom situation (having more than a certain number of special needs students in a classroom without an aide), she knows where the skeletons are buried. It was a student in one of her classes that shoved her, causing her a permanent back injury and forcing her retirement from the district.

Does she have an ax to grind? Perhaps, but don’t we all? Her ax will be providing a quality education for the district’s student body, which in the last 20 years has become increasingly black, Latino and Asian. She promises she won’t rubber-stamp recommendations, but ask lots of questions and vote based on the information and her conscience.

Her three opponents have issued literature that basically says, “vote for us just because.” No listing of position statements on issues, no qualifications, nothing. But unfortunately, that’s politics even in school board elections, which traditionally see turnouts of around 10 percent of registered voters.

My wife’s gotten a lot of help from others in the township in her campaign, and of course I’m hoping she can pull this off. I’m a little nervous, but I have to remember that God’s got this. I ask for your prayers as well.

And you know I’ll update ya’ll as soon as we know the outcome.

Any of you who even have a middling interest in professional sports may have heard that Harry Kalas, longtime broadcaster for the Philadelphia Phillies, died Monday in the broadcast booth while preparing to call a game between the Phils and the Washington Nationals at Nationals Park in DC. He had been with the club since 1971, which was the year that the now-razed Veterans Stadium opened.

That represents 37 full seasons of calling Phillies baseball. And it was during those years the Phillies, as is the case throughout most of the franchise’s 126-year history, fielded some pretty lousy teams. Hearing Harry, which his distinctive deep voice, call a Phillies home run as “Outta heeeere” made watching the team bearable.

If you’re still not familiar with who Harry Kalas is, think “Inside the NFL” which ran for years on HBO. Harry narrated the filmed football highlights, following in the footsteps of another Philadelphia legend, the late John Facenda. NFL Films, which has produced countless hours of NFL hightlights, is located in a Philly suburb called Mount Laurel, New Jersey.

Below is Harry calling the final out of the Phils’ World Series win last October. Behind him celebrating is fellow broadcaster Chris Wheeler.

You’ve got to admit Harry is blessed to have been able to go out doing what he loved. RIP.