Profunksticated

What’s up?

Sorry it’s been awhile. Profunksticated has spent another week in the D.C. area, collecting more business cards in a week than he has in the past six months.

My landlady was nice enough to let me stay in her place for those days for pro-rated rent, which was much cheaper than staying in a hotel.

I’m feelin’ pretty good about my chances of getting work, having demonstrated to these staffing firms my willingness to relocate.

Let’s see, I did a journalism conference; attended a reception held by the president of my alma mater, the Big State Supported School in the South; underwent proposal training offered by one of the staffing firms I’ve been talking to; and attended a Washington Capitals hockey game (Yeah, I’m a black man who likes hockey. Wanna make something of it?)

Even my landlady put me in touch with with a couple of relatives of hers who work for the federal government. One of them gave me pointers as to how to apply for gigs. “This is a networking town,” my landlady said. Indeed an understatement.

I also reacquainted myself with the Washington Metro. When I lived here in the mid-1980s, the Green Line that travels from the Shaw area through Anacostia and to Branch Avenue was just a proposed light green line on the system map. Today it’s finished and up and running. I thought, wow, it’s been a long time.

Me, I’m making use of the Yellow Line and its Huntington terminus, near where I’m staying. One thing about the Metro: People need to lower their voices when they talk. Three young girls got on one train and I swear one of them was speaking a combination of English, Ebonics and some other extra-terrestrial language I’ve never heard before in discussing what I took to be how to engage in a physical altercation with a girl carrying a baby. “Her face isn’t pregnant,” I overheard one say.

And on the platform at the Chinatown station, a group of young boys were cussing and arguing over football, but I wasn’t sure if it were about pro ball or their own youth league teams. But they were loud as hell.

Finally, in a moment of boredom the other night, I walked into a place in Southwest that you native Washingtonians probably know as a spot where aging playas push up on young things as they network with one another. It was there I somehow ended up sitting next to an older lady who admittedly liked getting her drink on and kind of teased me for not imbibing. “You’re detoxing,” she told me. When I told her why I was in D.C., she advised me to consider the D.C. government as a possible employment route. Hadn’t thought of that.

While I sipped a club soda and listened to the live band, this woman pointed out to me a certain former well-known D.C. elected chief executive as he was conversing with a young lady. First time I’d ever seen him live in the flesh. Can’t judge him; I’d probably be doing the same thing if I had the name and power.

And yes, folks, I was on my best behavior.

Peace.

More of the old school from Profunksticated.

I picked the Mars Spirit theme for this blog because it reminded me of one of my favorite cuts from the mid-1970s, specifically Life on Mars by Dexter Wansel, an artist and producer with Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff’s Philadelphia International Records. PIR was the Motown of the 1970s, a label that spawned such great artists such as Patti Labelle, Teddy Pendergrass, Billy Paul, Jerry Butler, The Stylistics, Jean Carne (I actually said hello to Ms. Carne in a Philly nightclub back in 1986), Stevie Wonder, The Jacksons (post-Motown), and the late Phyllis Hyman and Grover Washington Jr. Dexter Wansel worked with all of the aforementioned performers.

I know it seems that hip-hop seems defining touchstone of African American culture today, and yes, I’m a little bit resentful. Earth Wind & Fire, Kool and the Gang, Parliament-Funkadelic, Slave, Lakeside and others put out some great music I believe is way overlooked today. Hip-hop owes a big debt to these artists.

And most of what is released today, IMHO, doesn’t hold a candle to the R&B, Funk and Fusion that was being put out during my coming-of-age years. Hearing that music truly lifted my spirits back then, when I was a geeky teenager who actually was afraid of girls, but wanted one as a special friend in the worst way. The music was about love, spirituality and just plain having a great time.

So every now and then, in between my rants and general what’s-going-on-with-my-life posts, I’ll give you an old-school cut. Today, it’s Dexter Wansel’s Life on Mars. And by the way, once Life on Mars finishes playing, try out the related cuts, including Dance With Me Tonight and Theme from the Planets. Enjoy.

Peace.

Profunksticated is, for now, moving to the Washington, DC area in search of contract or other work. My family will stay behind at our present home. I didn’t think it would come to this, but it is now crunch time. The unemployment’s exhausted and The Spouse’s workers comp claim still hasn’t been resolved. A brother’s got to do what a brother’s got to do.

Remember the proposal contract job for which I was described as a "catch?" I contacted the staffing firm up here about a week ago only to get an e-mail from the recruiter saying her client was "leaning toward someone else." Huh? She told me I was the only one being presented. I was initially upset but then reasoned that there’s nothing stopping the client firm from finding someone elsewhere. I haven’t heard anything since then, and don’t expect to.

Anyhow, The Spouse and I this weekend met a nice older woman — whom I met through Craigslist of all places — who rents out rooms in her upscale townhome in Northern Virginia, giving me a place to stay for a relatively nominal rent. We were in Richmond, VA, where The Spouse was giving a presentation on how foreign language teachers can best deal with special ed students. On the way back north we stopped and met with the landlady.

My physically being in our nation’s capital area addresses the concern of several of the staffing agencies I’ve contacted: "You need to be living here." How long will I be in the DC area? I don’t know.

I will move in early November. But for now, as I write this, I’m planning to attend a conference this weekend in DC as well as a proposal training seminar in Reston the following week. My new landlady will allow me to "move in" early to attend both events. As you can imagine, my networking efforts will be fast and furious.

I know some of you that read this blog know people in the DC area. If you hit me up and leave me an e-mail, I’ll reveal myself, but promise you won’t tell others who I am.

Yeah, it’s a little scary, but kind of exciting at the same time. I haven’t mentioned this before, but I lived in Prince George’s County, MD, for nearly a year back in the mid-1980s, when I was much younger and stupider. I always did like DC, but got married and moved out West for a few years.

I’ll keep you posted as to what happens.

Peace.

Here’s something you need to know about Profunksticated: He’s an old-school kind of a guy. Well, as old-school as someone born in 1959 can be. He’s not only into the old-school funk-R&B, but he’s a classic TV buff as well. He’s got all kinds of stuff, mostly old network promos, on video.

Now, for you regular readers, here’s where I switch from writing in the third-person to posting in the first-person (LOL).

Return with me to a time, long before there were 500 cable channels with nothing on, to a period when TV markets had only ABC, NBC, CBS and PBS (then known as NET for National Educational Television)  — usually on Very High Frequency or VHF (Channels 2-13) received by rabbit ear anntenae, and a few fuzzy-reception independents on the separate Ultra High Frequency, or UHF dial (Channels 14-83) for which you needed that loop antenna. No HBO, no Showtime, no BET.

There were few remote controls; most folks actually had to get up off their duffs to switch the set on or change the channel.

Now come with me to our ultimate destination: September 1969, Friday nights at 9 p.m. Eastern Time on ABC, the time slot of a groundbreaking half-hour comedy-drama called Room 222. I was almost 10 at the time and loved this show.

Room 222 was about a fictional integrated Los Angeles high school and, according to the site of the Museum of Broadcast Communications, tackled issues such as "racism, sexism, homophobia, dropping out of school, shoplifting, drug use among both teachers and students, illiteracy, cops in school, guns in school, Vietnam war veterans, venereal disease, and teenage pregnancy." Most of it crap that still plagues public high schools today.

What I find significant about the show is that — correct me if I’m wrong — it was the first network prime time show to give top billing to an African American male actor. That man was the late Lloyd Haynes, who played history teacher Pete Dixon. Also starring in Room 222 was that fine-azz Denise Nicholas, along with Karen Valentine and Michael Constantine.

It’s going on nearly 40 years since this show first premiered. It ran on ABC for five years and is described by MBC as "breaking new narrative ground,"  mixing dramatic elements and comedy, that would be used in future shows, including such Norman Lear-produced fare as All in the Family and Maude.

Below this post is Room 222’s opening theme, all of one minute and 30 seconds, a comparable eternity to today’s TV, where the end of one show quickly segues into the next, with theme songs just about non-existent. That’s to keep us viewers from frustrating advertisers by using the clicker to surf to the next channel. (By the way, if you view a related video of a Room 222 network promo once this YouTube clip finishes playing, you might spot a young Ed Begley Jr. playing a student.)

If you’re younger than 30, you won’t remember this, but check it out — this opening makes high school look like college, doesn’t it? Thank God for YouTube.  Enjoy.

Peace.

An update as of Nov. 3, 2007: It seems someone took down Room 222’s opening theme, so that video is no longer available. So I’ve replaced it with this network promo for the show.

Profunksticated has seen the (possible) future — and it wasn’t pretty, at least initially. This glimpse into the future told me what love really is.

The Spouse, the Two Sons and I visited her godfather in a nursing home this past weekend. He just celebrated what we believe is his 85th birthday, and he’s got advanced Alzheimer’s disease.  The Spouse has much affection for "Uncle F." because he and his late wife took The Spouse’s mom under their wing years ago and treated her much like their daughter.

You see, The Spouse’s mom — my mom-in-law — married my late father-in-law under some pretty weird circumstances. You ever hear of a man leaving his wife for a younger woman? Of course you have.

But have you ever heard of this man introducing his new woman’s family to his son? And then the son of that man becoming sweet on the "other woman’s" kid sister?  And this happening in the 1950s?

Well, the son, who passed away in the early 1990s, and that younger sister are my in-laws. They dated, allowed nature to take over and ended up pregnant with a baby who would grow up to become who I call The Spouse. Of course, my dad-in-law did the right thing and married my mom-in-law, amidst all kinds of pressure from both families to not get hitched.

My mom-in-law caught most of the flack from her own mother, whom I never met. Enter Uncle F. and his wife, who were neighbors. They treated mom-in-law like a daughter, gave her the emotional support she needed and became The Spouse’s godparents.

During our two-hour visit, The Spouse talked to her godfather and fed him cake as I snapped photos. The Spouse says that Uncle F. recognized her, "sort of."  He had lost a lot of weight and his speech was incoherent. You see, Uncle F. was once a prominent businessman. He has a grown son in his late 50s, but the son orbits in his own universe to the point where my mom-in-law had to gain power of attorney and have Uncle F. placed in the facility.

At one point, my older son whispers to me, "Dad, this place is depressing." I had to agree. All I could think about, seeing all those elderly folk in wheelchairs, many afflicted with dementia, was what would I do if my parents, who are in their 70s, or mom-in-law, in her late 60s, ended up like that. Or to take it a step further, The Spouse or I could end up that way.

I actually went into the rest room and asked God, "The ones who are saved, just take them."

I can only pray God give me and all of use the ability to take care of my elders. In the meantime, The Spouse was sad over seeing her godfather in this condition, but was glad she visited.

I too am glad we visited.

Peace.

A recruiter from a firm that places marketing/creative temp workers contacted Profunksticated about a proposal position, calling him a "catch." Seems the client is a health insurer and my resume’ matched their requirements almost to a T. Which is interesting, since I right now have a strong disdain for the insurance industry, or more precisely, the premiums I pay for life, homeowners and especially auto insurance.

The temp firm was supposed to present my resume’ to the client Wednesday. We’ll see.

On related tip, I’ve been feeling surly of late, knowing there’s a strong possibility I’ll be spending time back in the devil-inspired freak show that is White Corporate America, where I’m likely to have a position with a whole lot of responsibility, but little clout to get anything done.

I’m nearly 48, unemployed, my savings are shot, my unemployment is running out and I’m starting over yet once again. Lord knows I didn’t see all this coming in 1981, when I graduated college.

Sometimes I hear it from my father, who sometimes reminds me that I’m in this predicament because I’ve kept moving from job to job. "If you had stayed with (hometown paper), you would have had 25 years there," he says. And I would have spent 25 years wondering what would have been. I’m glad I had the chance to work for a larger publication even though it was 1,800 miles from my hometown.

There are days I wonder why a man in his right mind would get married and have a family. Kills his bargaining position. Employers find out you’ve got a family, then they’ve got your over a barrel.

I guess the thing that gets me is the feeling of not having control over many aspects of my life. The Spouse, a high school teacher, was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis four years ago, and we’re awaiting the resolution of a workers comp case due to a back injury she sustained trying to stop a fight between her students. In the meantime, the income has been erratic. 

I guess what really pisses me off is that I have to depend on The Spouse to help with the household income. I always thought a man should be able to support his family. During my first bout of unemployment 11 years ago, I took a crappy telemarketing job for $6 an hour. My mother said, "That doesn’t sound like a job for a family man." No it doesn’t, I told Mom, but I had to do something, seeing as though I couldn’t get a job at the local Toys-R-Us stocking toys made of low-wage labor in Thailand or China or whereever our shit comes from these days.

The Spouse tries to remind me that some good things have happened, including this job prospect and finishing my certificate courses. She says she wonders what would really make me happy.

What really would make me happy, she asks? What would make me happy is being in total control, but that’s not gonna happen. I guess that even though I’m not happy, I still have some joy. I think there’s a difference.

Peace.