Profunksticated

Profunksticated commented on stereotypes over at his man Lord Hannibal’s spot, where he posted a video of an insurance spot starring a black couple being married. He responded to one of my comments and I quote: “Blacks are most often portrayed as coons with no measurable intelligence or cultural refinement. ”

If LH thinks in 2008 that commercial was bad, he ain’t seen nothing yet. Let’s head back to 1943, when Warner Brothers released a piece of animation called by some one of the greatest cartoon shorts ever made. Only one problem: It features, by today’s standards, some of the most racist, over-the-top caricatures of African Americans ever committed to celluloid.

This World War II-era short is called Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs. It was one of those many cartoons that that was shown in theatres prior to the main feature film before the advent of television. It’s likely many of you have never seen it. I’ve seen the cartoon for the first time only four years ago. That’s because this piece of animation was deemed so racist that it was banned, along with other racist cartoons, from the mainstream media.

My advice would be to read this piece about the cartoon, which puts it in a historical context, before you watch it. And once you watch, be ready to feel something.

Profunksticated may be close to a job offer. A recruiter for an IT consulting firm, after two interviews, called late yesterday to say she had good news. I missed the call, so she left a voice message. When I called back, she was gone for the day. I’ll have to wait.

Remember what I wrote about Tim Russert’s death? Check this out.

If I were a six-year-old who had to spell the name of the Democratic presidential nominee, I’d come up with “Baroko Bomma.”

Got to call a high level meeting of the Profunksticated household’s Department of Marital Consortium. On the agenda:

The lamp’s plugged in but there’s no electricity.

The pipeline’s been laid, but there’s no oil flowing.

President Johnson is standing at attention, but “Hail to the Chief” ain’t playing.

In other words, she’s feelin’ it. Me? Not so much.

Damn you, middle age!

Profunksticated is pleased to provide you, faithful readers, with even more old school, baby!

Today it’s Slave’s Steal Your Heart, from the 1981 LP Showtime. This album had better known cuts such as Wait For Me and Snap Shot. I remember hearing those cuts on the radio shortly after I graduated college that year, but I don’t recall ever hearing Steal Your Heart.

It was on Slave’s Stellar Fungk CD compilation (which I did pay for, BTW) that I heard Steal Your Heart for what seemed to be first time a few years ago, and I fell in love with it. I’m constantly playing this cut as I drive. And check out the animation added to the song (not by me). Enjoy!

Profunksticated was angry last Friday to the point of wanting to return to the bottle. All it took was unnecessarily paying a $500 collision deductible to cover a dent I made in the rental car’s rear bumper. Being the impatient person I am, I tried to maneuver my way out of a crowded gas station and hit an air compressor.

Why wasn’t I carrying the collision damage waiver, which would have saved me that sum, you ask? Because I thought the repair to my damaged van would take longer than they actually did. Once I was told to expect the van on June 27, I decided to remove the coverage, which would have totaled more than $200. My thinking was I would take my chances that I wouldn’t have a traffic accident.

The van was ready by last Friday. Had I known that, I would likely have kept the rental collision waiver coverage for what turned out to be four days. (And to top off things, the van was delivered with the wrong grille style. How do you mess that up? The rep of the body shop promised to fix it.)

Removing the collision coverage turned out the be a bad move. I forgot that the collision damage is offered not just to protect renters from damages involving major crashes, but also for minor dents. If you reject the coverage, your own insurance pays for the damage. But the rental agency will collect your deductible amount, if you have one, up front.

The lesson: If your insurance deductible exceeds the total amount of collision damage waiver premium you pay while renting a vehicle, you’re better off keeping the collision damage. It’s one thing to dent your own vehicle; that’s inconsequential. But denting a rental? That can be murder on your wallet.

Meantime, I was mad as hell. The episode with the rental sent me over the edge. Every annoyance, every irritation, every disappointment, came pouring out. I was on the phone with The Spouse, ranting and cursing over our lack of finances, being away from home, having to look for a job once more and other stuff. She listened and quietly reminded me to praise God in all things.

Yes, I found that hard to do. She asked me to read a copy of a prayer she left in the van. I only felt slightly better. I also told some folk in my 12-step fellowship what was going on, and they made a point this weekend of making sure I hung with them at meetings because they didn’t want to see me fall off the wagon. By Saturday, I had calmed down.

On Sunday, I had a long talk with my sponsor in NJ about what was up. He asked if I was praying. I sheepishly said no. He said I needed to pray more and take what we call a Tenth Step inventory each day that asks if we’re working our recovery program to the best of our ability. I’ve not talked with my sponsor on a daily basis like I’m supposed to in the seven months I’ve been here in the Washington area. But I’ve resolved to do so going forward.

Today, Monday, I have another job interview, which should be cause for rejoicing, but I’m still nervous and not looking forward to it. I really have to get better with dealing with feelings of fear and anger.

Despite it all, deep down in my heart, I don’t want to blow six and a half years of “clean time” – not using drugs or alcohol – over dumb stuff.

But I really could have used those five bills for something other than giving them to Enterprise Car Rental. I certainly didn’t feel Friday like they’d “pick me up.”

Peace.

Profunksticated is a free agent once again and looking for another gig. The one nice thing about living in the nation’s capital area is there are no shortage of jobs for proposal specialists like myself.

I had an interview yesterday with an IT consulting firm in Maryland. Their recruiter told me I was hiring managers’ top candidate. So top, that now one of the company founders wants to meet with me next week. Instead of thinking that’s wonderful, here’s how my mind operates: “Damn it, I have to go up there again? And will I need to buy another suit? No, I’ll just wear a different shirt and tie. ”

I have an interview scheduled Monday with another IT consulting firm, but this one’s in Virginia and a lot closer to where I’m living. We’ll see how that goes.

And on July 2, I have yet another one scheduled, this in the construction division of an environmental company that’s a whopping mile and a half from where I stay. Trouble is, that’s so far out timewise that I may have an offer by then. It’s a shame that commuting time has to weigh into the job search.

Truth be told, I’m nervous. All of these are full time positions. I realize I posted several months ago about how I would rather contract myself out instead of working a full-time position, but reality has set in, especially after this last job ended. I still have a family to support, and health insurance still is a big factor in our lives.

Also my Dad went into the hospital on Father’s Day with a fluctuating heart rate, fever, and fatigue. Docs think it might have been some kind of respiratory infection. When I called him a few hours earlier on Father’s Day, he told me he was under the weather and had fallen down a few steps to his basement but doesn’t remember how he did it. He has no broken bones. And my sister, the physical therapist, has scolded him for doing yard work in the recent heat here on the East Coast, which may have contributed to his infection.

He’s improved, but he ain’t no spring chicken anymore. I was home in NJ for a couple days this week, and visited him in the hospital. Hospitals were never my favorite places to visit (likely most of you feel similarly) and that holds true even more given this year’s events.

That’s it for now.

Peace.

Profunksticated was among those surprised by the death of NBC’s Tim Russert. What was even more shocking to me as a former journalist was the over-the-top coverage of his passing, especially by Russert’s employer, the Peacock network.

It was as if NBC had forgetten that half of Iowa is under water, Boy Scouts are still dealing with the aftermath of a tornado that killed several of their fellow campers, and oh yes, the war in Iraq that continues to drag on with ne’er an end in sight. The question of whether Tim himself would have been embarrassed is raised here.

Among my first thoughts of hearing of Russert’s death was that he would miss covering a historic election night come November. Then I remembered, with some annoyance, that he was a lawyer and former political hack who made the switch to journalism in the early 1980s. I mean, he worked hard to become a well-regarded reporter and interviewer, but I can only think of the countless, more experienced, hard-working reporters the NBC honchos passed over to hire the relatively untested, unknown Russert.

Not fair, but that’s life. Russert’s story is why I would not recommend picking journalism as a college major. I think the situation is akin to the trained actor who is rejected by sitcom producers in favor of the standup comic.

On another topic, the social service firm gig is over, but I’ve gotten some other calls about possible positions. We’ll see. Meantime, I’m driving a Dodge Magnum rental while the Chevy van undergoes repairs.

There are days Profunksticated feels drained by this biweekly long-distance commuting for the sake of employment suitable to my background and my family’s income needs. I told The Spouse recently how I felt. She replied that I’m showing a lot of love by traveling back and forth between the Philadelphia-southern New Jersey and Washington, D.C. regions.

I said, “Come again?”

She said a lot of men wouldn’t have sacrificed like she says I have. I said “Thanks, dear, but why wouldn’t I do this?”

Our convo reminded me of the moments following my sister-in-law’s death a few months ago. I was in the ICU waiting room, broken into pieces, sobbing for both my brother and his wife. A female cousin was trying to console me. I said through my tears that I felt bad for my little brother.

Cuz, who was close to my sister-in-law, told me my brother as a good man, saying that a lot of men wouldn’t have stuck by their wives through a long-term illness like sis-in-law went through. Many dudes would rather cut and run, she said.

I bring this up because I’m thinking what my brother and I did what we were supposed to do, and that is support our families and stay with our spouses “in sickness and in health.” That stuff sounded nice at the altar when we were young. However, when real life brought it, my brother did the right thing. I’d like to think I’m doing likewise.

That’s not to say we liked the curve balls and brickbats that adult married life delivered. And yes, we dreamed of being free of marital drama. (You know from reading this blog I was by no means the perfect husband.) But we stay because that is what we were taught.

Has the societal bar been set so low that when men do the right thing, it’s worthy of high praise?

Put another way, is it love or is it obligation that keeps men in marriage through the hard times?

Peace.

Profunksticated’s in his final week with the social services consulting firm and there is no proposal to work on. I’m pretty much being allowed to sit here and get paid while gig-searching and web-surfing.

Spent this past weekend at home with The Spouse and two boys. It was nice. The Spouse was feeling herself, as she described it, as we drove into Philly for a doc’s appointment. She popped in a CD she burned with stuff like Kanye (Gold Digger), Ludacris (Number One Spot) and some Outkast (Hey Ya!) That ain’t like her. She’s usually listening to gospel. Hmmm….

I can drive back and forth on I-95 with my eyes closed. OK, no I can’t. I wonder why, when drivers cross the Delaware Memorial Bridge from Delaware into New Jersey, they’re greeted with a sign that says “80 miles to the Cape May-Lewes Ferry”? What’s the point? They just left Delaware. Why drive 80 miles to the southern tip of NJ to catch a ferry back into Delaware?

My hands hurt from typing. My shoulder hurts from moving a mouse. My thumb hurts from scrolling my CrackBerry. I’m afraid of carpal tunnel surgery.

I’ve been applying to a fair number of open federal positions – mostly writer-editor jobs. Filling out those online questionnaires is a pain. Especially those questions that ask if you’ve ever created new processes for getting work done. I want to write “Hell no, I was a good little boy who did what he was told and followed the processes already in place!!!” If I could hook on with Uncle Sam, I’d ride the job out for at least the next 15 years, when I’ll be 63. (*Shudder*)

My landlady, the semi-retired teacher, has been beating me over the head, saying I should write a book. She’s co-authoring a book on living with sickle-cell anemia. She says she wishes she met me earlier, because I’d be her co-author. Her current co-author has tended at times to be MIA, she tells me. “I wish I had your talent!!” she exclaims. That’s nice to hear. She’d probably strangle me if she ever saw this blog.

But I don’t have a book in me right now. And if I do pen a tome, it would be based on Pro’s real life adventures to the point that some folk I know – including family – might recognize themselves and never speak to me again. My book would be something along the lines of Jill Nelson’s Volunteer Slavery, only fictionalized. Perhaps these blog posts could yield something readable, and more importantly, marketable. A bruh is gonna want to get pizzaid, ya feel?

Got an estimate for the damage to the van – about $2,500. An appointment with a body shop is pending. The Venture’s front end took the impact like a champ and is still drivable. My insurance is covering the repair, minus the $500 deductible. Covering the deductible is the insurance policy of the van I hit; it also will cover the cost of the rental car.

Still, I have to ask myself why I’m driving a minivan around Washington, D.C.? To a man, driving a minivan is the one tangible sign that his life is no longer his own. Thank God it’s a lease that we turn in next month.

I miss my 1999 Caddy DeVille – check that, no I don’t. Unleaded premium’s pushing what, $4.50 a gallon?

Peace.

Well, the hammer fell on Profunksticated.

As of June 13, I will leave the the social services consulting firm with which I’ve worked for a temp for the past six and a half months. My manager told me he couldn’t justify to his bosses having two proposal specialists on his team. Add to that a hiring freeze. They did, however, hire the desktop publisher to whom I refered in an earlier post. The company needed her more than they needed me.

I was not surprised, but disappointed nonetheless. I allowed myself to hope I would get hired. I got kinda comfortable there and did get to liking the people. I have to be thankful for two things: that I stayed on an extra four months (Feb. 1 was my original end date) and my manager has given me a couple weeks notice, a lot more than most temps get.

So I’ve got to find another gig and in short order. I’ve been applying online to various federal positions. One specialist I’ve worked with told me she’ll pass along the names of people who call her about her availabililty for proposal work. She’s also worked as a temp/contractor.

What else? Oh yeah, while driving to work I broadsided another driver last Friday morning on a busy four-lane street in Fairfax County, Va. She apparently was trying to turn left to head westbound from a shopette parking lot. Trouble was, a transit bus had stopped right there just short of that driveway, obscuring her vision of traffic coming from her left. She pulled out in front of the bus. There is no intersection or traffic signal.

I was passing the bus in the left eastbound travel lane; the bus, also eastbound, was in the right lane. As I was passing the bus, her minivan appeared seemingly out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop and quickly got this sick feeling.

“I’m about to hit this mofo.”

(Sound of brakes screeching; then of metal crunching against metal).

We spun into the opposite (westbound) travel lanes to a stop. We were able to move our vehicles off the street an into a parking lot across the street from where she tried her ill-advised left turn. My first thought was thank God there were no vehicles traveling westbound at the time we spun. But then I thought, trying to ascertain her thought pattern, that had there been approaching westbound traffic, she wouldn’t have attempted the turn to start with.

What I believe she was thinking: There’s no approaching westbound traffiic, the bus is holding up the eastbound traffic, I can make this left. True, the bus was holding up the right eastbound lane. She forgot the bus blocked her view of the left eastbound lane, where I was driving.

OK, other particulars. I’m driving a Chevy Venture minivan (look, I’m a married guy with kids, what can I say?) She’s driving a Plymouth Voyager van. Her driver-side panel absorbed most of the impact. I know so because my van’s airbag didn’t deploy. Her van also leaked antifreeze. My van had front end damage and knocked the driver side marker light out of place, but was still driveable.

Neither of us was hurt, thank God, but her shotgun-riding passenger complained of a sore back and side. Police and ambulance were called. She was given a traffic citation for pulling in front of me. I was too shaken to be angry. Her vehicle and mine are insured by the same company, which should make the claim process simpler.

I’m to take the van to an adjuster to get a damage estimate. The van I hit is owned by another man, a friend of this woman, and the rep handling his policy told me that once liability is accepted his policy will pay for everything, including my damage deductible and a rental car to used while the van undergoes body work.

Guess who won’t be complaining about paying for auto insurance?

In the more than 30 years I’ve been a licensed driver, this is the first collision I’ve had. I certainly hope it will be the last. Love this Washington-area traffic.

2008: This year just keeps getting better and better.

Peace.