this is… The Neighborhood
the Story within the Story
THE RETURN OF TOBE DAMIT!; A WOUNDED MICHAEL JOHN MELE AND A CITIES’ FINALE ANALYSIS
“I said over and over what was VERY offensive and hurtful, trying to get some kind of apologies for THE WAY this was handled, the lack of care and respect anyone deserves.” – It’s Tobe Damit! Frozen Out
“His one man rebellion clashes with his adoration and longing to be a part of The Neighborhood, which he loves…” – Kendall F. Person, TAG
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from 1976, The Steve Miller Band
with Fly Like An Eagle
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CITIES FINALE PRE-GAME ANALYSES:
PLAYERS, CITIES, VICTORY AND DEFEATED
analyzed by Kendall F. Person
from Loud Alien Noize, Its Tobe Damit!
Within its clearest meaning “Go down swinging” simply means never give up. When Tobe Damit was FROZEN out of TAG episode V of Anthology, he did not go down just swinging, he went out like Tyson. But while the drama was riveting, there were no winners to be had. Tobe was devastated by the repercussions of a misunderstanding, and The Neighborhood’s one and only Anthology, perhaps missed out on a – not revolutionary – but a one of a kind. A psychedelic brilliance if you will, from a frantically artistic soul in Rebel Rebel!! There is No Authority But Yourself
by Moebius
While they have yet to share the stage in a collaborated performance, and with last contact so explosive, it took a Pastor, a mental health advocate and the show’s producer to stop a swirling storm, he and Person understand and genuinely admire one another. Bad news for Tampa, as the return of Tobe turns Montreal into the runaway favorite… Damit!
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from The Insane Asylum, Michael John Mele
Michael John Mele is sorta, kinda the opposite of Damit. He had remained on the fringe, never walking in, until Cities was thrusted upon him in round 2. And while he and co-MVP Tim Bane, have carried Tampa to within one win of a championship neither relishes, but only Michael has committed and thus far, the City of Tampa’s only chance to claim the title. But each week with Michael was like pulling teeth and we wanted desperately to pass the baton, but no biters, not even Tim, yet Michael marched Tampa right into the Championship Round
But a few days ago, Michael reshared An Angel Without Wings, an epic tribute to his Mother (RIP), if there ever was. Its weight handled with strength and grace, such love and pride in every letter of what I image to be a 6000 word or more essay. It both breaks one’s heart and celebrates a mother’s love with an evenness that spreads, allowing each reader to think of their own Mother, while honoring Johns’. But it is his loss to carry and what a heavy burden to bear: one of the great hurts of life. But on the surface, he honors commitments and makes us laugh, and I am honored to have him still here.
I have offered hints and suggestions to each of the players and their captains, when asked. Michael has not, but I left one anyway in the comment section of a Facebook post. If he understands, the solution he never thought imaginable, can be imagined in the next 4 days. And if the idea captures Michael, he may very well deliver such a performance, that the male version of Rebecca Lemke could be the only comparison. Or he will fulfil an obligation.
There are supporting actors to be sure. Long term residents, recipient and future recipient of The Neighborhood Award ‘OUR HIGHEST HONOR’, The Neighborhood 2017 co-Chairs and Team Captains in Cities. Guy White (#TeamMontreal) and Kelly Lewis (#TeamTampa) have performed the normal duties, including a nasty expulsion for plagiarism and disqualifying of an entire city (Baltimore) a first for sure. But what no chair has ever done, is lead a team to the peak, where there is only victory for one.
What Montreal lacks in a focused attack, they make up in depth. With resident Nadine Jordan and newcomer Xtine Layne joining forces with co-MVP Frances Waterman, their capture should be a formidable one. And while Tobe Damit could upstage everyone in the final act, make no mistake, even with Guy as Captain, Team Montreal belongs to Waterman. 
But if Vegas odds were on the line, even without knowing who or how many others from Tampa and Montreal are planning a capture, The Montreal Team 10-1: Michael Mele 5-1 and Tobe Damit – even money.
Imagination, laser sharp attention and a desire to win for their city, then holding their breath while the public votes and panels judge, in a final separation of the victor and the defeated. But with the 2017 City of the Year on the line, others are out there capturing a solution… as it happens.
— This is… the Story within the Story: the Tobe Damit and Michael John Mele ed. (developed by Kendall F. Person)
DEADLINE: Nov 24th by 11:59pm EST via fb, google+ or contact@thepublicblogger.com
The Show Nov 27th Voting Booth opens at 5:00pm PST, closes 15 hours after start. for more info visit CITIES
The Neighborhood’s Weekly
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Make a donation. We can sure it and even free has a value when asked (big smile)
The Challenges of A Woman
cover by Jerry Keisewetter
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Life has so many ups and downs and changes, that sometimes 50/50 seems good enough. Sometimes life’s challenges seem so overwhelming, but then I am reminded through a smile or a laugh, how unbelievable life really is. – IvySoul Robinson
from Philadelphia
IvySoul Robinson with Unbelievable
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words from the director
Ms. Nadine Jordan of
Sacramento via Montreal
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To”Let”means we have a responsibility in the matter. It also means that we must give permission or allow the opportunity for God to do something in our lives,or through our lives, that he desires to see happen. When God is saying “Let”He saying that there is no reluctance on his part to see something happen.but he waiting for us to respond.
I grew up a very spoiled and scary little girl. have you ever heard that saying I was kicked out of school because I couldn’t go to recess wel I wouldn’t because l was scared of all the Children. There were just too many I’d never make it past the fenced in area behind the classroom.
Once I got home my father asked me what the problem was I told him I was scared of all the Children there he just look at me and ask me what was I going to do about it only I didn’t know and that just wasn’t an option he told me I had my own platoon of siblings and that I needed to figure it out when I got tired of playing with them through the window (while closed) I began thinking and watching what everyone was doing. Everything possible it seemed like weeks had gone by because he was right there were eight boy’s and seven girl’s I’m not counting myself even though we didn’t all live together I still knew their movement in the house at first it was for survival and later it we be for blackmail I knew who was going out the window and who was coming in the window before you knew it I was back in school.
Later as I got much better at it I was on the blacktop playing four square or on the monkey bars my sister’s and I got bullied all the five in total had to walk to and from school together or should I say run until I got tired and started fighting back this particular day the fight was not for me it was for my older sister Carolyn when I got home my mom said you weren’t afraid to fight I said nope and I was hot she do you know where she live I said yes we left I got her good I am nothing without my family I would protect my sister’s at all cost I’ve never had a childhood my father put me on the fast track when I was in the 7th grade I went to summer school every year at U.C.Davis I lived in the dorms for my six week stay by the time I got to the ninth grade I started earning college credit as well as high school credits and by the time I became a.
Senior I was done with with school and ready to go into the military but my father was not having it I was his first daughter to ever graduate high school he made me complete my senior year and I’m happy he did it was by far one one of best times of my and I was able to do something for my favorite guy my father was best friend he never bought a formal gown I went to the prom both Jr and Sr he was so giddy just he and I shopped for the most part mom had the final say so oops no babies no boyfriend just my diploma
He even came with me to take my senior portraits (little shirley)
After graduation everyone was just overwhelmed with what had taken place daddy thought I was riding with my mom and my mom thought I was riding with daddy I had to trick this guy into giving me a ride home I couldn’t carry all the loot that my father paid me not to go to the military because he said that little red piece in my mouth would get get me killed I never understood what he meant by that but ok I’ll take the car if you don’t mind shortly after just a little bit over a year I think I won’t think about it I lost my first teacher my best friend my father my everything
I’ve not been the same I have heard people say that girl’s look for a man who reminds them of they’re father that can’t be true I’ve never met anyone who can burn a candle to dad I can’t even have a picture of of him in my life in fear it may take me out I didn’t know what I was going to do because I was still a baby who was going to take care of me was my biggest fear my uncle’s shirley and Joe my dad’s brother’s tried to move me in and my grandparents I couldn’t they reminded me of my father eventually I got married to my first crush we went to Reno because I didn’t want anyone to know it wasn’t long before it the love left the relationship for him and he became known as Ike Turner and I his Tina he beat and raped me for years and I never told anyone it wasn’t long after I had gotten pregnant with our third child I decided I was done with him my brother’s were going to go to prison for murder if I didn’t leave so he decided to go to the military because I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse only to have him come back home our daughter had died she was stillborn because I had went out and bought clothing cribs toys everything she needed knowing fool well she would not have safe passage through the canal if I did it but I said everyone else does it so I did too I lost my MIND her was SANJIA ROCHELLE NEWMAN I named her because we had a bond she I after they told me she passed they left her inside me for a week I became toxic and they told my family I wouldn’t make it past mid-night I’m still here my breakdown took place as tried to discharge me it lasted just over six months just as I was getting myself together my mother past away the same day one year later I went to the funeral but I saw the Hurst with the casket and I woke up at home and my husband give me crack cocaine I’ve never done it or saw it before I kept asking
questions about it finally I hit it one hit I was was hooked for the next eight and half years I began to prostitute my body and my nickname was 211 because everyone knows it was a Robbery in progress almost every time I got in a car with someone I used to stay high and or tipsy I wanted to die out there I felt I had nothing to live for I thought I signed over my children I already lost my dad my daughter mother grandmother and and uncle they both were asking for me I just couldn’t I wasn’t able to do it !!!but then God snatched me up out of the gutter July 14,1998 and delivered me to VICTORY OUTREACH INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S OF SPECIAL SERVICES he Knew me and I knew nothing about him sure I went to church as child with grandmother but when the music stopped I stopped I was ready to go the only time I prayed was for another trick real talk the first two months I got rebuked every day and stayed on blackout either washing dishes or cleaning toilets how many people know God speaks to you while your on punishment or why else would I suddenly start falling in love with Jesus he promised me three things he was 1.going to clean me up and send me back out there and my enemies would not know me 2.give me back my children and 3.restore the relationship between me and my siblings and I tell you Dec.98 when I got a call from my daughter asking she she and her two siblings come see me I was speechless I had just woke up from alter call I know how to pray yet so I slept Amen! the church got quiet everyone was looking at me and I turned around it was some of my siblings with all three of my children the judge didn’t know who I was when back upon completion God had a plan for my life his will his plan his way for my life Stacy Lewis said I was to become one of the greatest Evangelist I relapsed right on the spot I already knew I wouldn’t make it far the Bible talks about many small words but the word I want to talk about is”let”it means we have a responsibility in the matter ,it also means that we must give permission or allow the opportunity for God to do something in our lives,or through our lives, that he desires to see happen when God is saying “Let”He saying that there is no reluctance on his part to see something happen,but he waiting for us to respond
Today I’m no longer that scary little girl because fear is not God but we all know things happen so I had to dig deeper into the word fear it is a lack of control which made perfect sense I know I do not have power over people,places, or things at times I lack control of self sometimes God gives us the answer to the question way before ask and other times when he feels we can handle it my parents knew I was mentally ill as a child but felt the need to keep it between themselves because they wanted me to rise to my full potential and that is what I did I miss them dearly they have gone on to glory but never but never forgotten .
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Flower Crittenden of Sacramento
Shares Her Story Via a Spoken Word Performance
with special guest Amanda Craaig.
PRESS PLAY
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I’m the kind of person that yearns for positive reinforcement so out with the negatives first, this way I’ll end up in a better place than when I started. I am struggling to find the right words to explain to you the sacrifices I had to make in order to maintain the peace during one of the biggest battles I have ever fought in my life. Although, I feel strongly about this subject it is the hardest for me to write about. The challenges I faced were beyond astronomical. I lugged around an array of emotions that no one could possibly understand unless in my shoes. It still brings me a lot of pain and animosity right to the surface. It took me to the darkest hole in my existence without any idea of how I was ever going to climb out of it. There was no light at the end of this tumultuous tunnel.
I truly feel that people underestimate the power and depths of what parenting is really about, let alone what a stepparent entails. Someone once told me and I quote, “How could you possibly know what a child needs when you’ve never given birth?” That means anyone with an adopted child or decided to take full responsibility for one has no clue on what he/she needs? That by far is the most asinine statement I’ve heard. Becoming a natural mother/father doesn’t automatically make you a great parent. I need to say this with the utmost respect to my husband that coming to be a stepmother to Justin was the hardest job and also the most thankless one at that. There were no easy days. It was 7 years prior to having my son Michael. The only difference is I carried and birthed Michael.
I was confronted with the whispers of she’s the other woman huh? I wasn’t but people are going to say and think whatever they want anyway. I was also consistently reminded by my husband’s mother and a few others how I was not his real/maternal mother. That cut was surely the deepest. I was always walking a fine line and very cautious about ever crossing it. I always felt like the third wheel. I was uninvited to everything, I didn’t have a say and purposely left out of many conversations because his mother didn’t want me anywhere around. I wasn’t allowed to pick him up or keep him with me unless it was at her convenience. Even though I stepped up to help raise him like my very own flesh and blood son. I wasn’t trying to replace his mother I was simply stepping in when she wasn’t there to give him what he needed along with his father.
I never got the credit I deserved for raising or taking care of him when he was sick, getting shots for school and buying clothes. It’s not easy accepting someone else’s child but I can guarantee no one loves him the way that I did and still deeply do. Regardless of what I was doing from my heart I was highly criticized. I took plenty of jabs for assumptions that were made and led by misconceptions on top of ignorance. A good mother doesn’t come up with extravagant lies or happenings to keep someone out of her child’s life and she did that as much as humanly possible. She was good at rumors. The minute she heard we were getting married, she had my 3-year-old stepson ask if I was going to have a baby. WOW! I guess some individuals didn’t realize that I too, had feelings.
My love was selfless, rarely noticed and unappreciated. It didn’t matter what she did or didn’t do or if she hurt him because she’ll always be his mother and nothing will every change that. He’ll always love her “unconditionally” no matter what. On the other hand for me, it will. I haven’t received any stepmother of the year awards nor was I remembered on all of my birthdays, holidays or Mother’s day. I am the forgotten parent and not by my husband.
A person doesn’t just marry their spouse but the entire situation. I knew he and his son were a package deal. The demand happily obliged. I felt brave not obligated to give love a chance. I’m the woman who knew it would be complicated and difficult but was willing to give it a good try. I was born with an instinct to love my child and also had one for another who needed mine so I gave a piece freely without conditions. In my book, biology doesn’t make someone a mother. Our family was created by the way we treat each other not because of similar fucking DNA. I discovered finding the balance between supporting and defending without overstepping visible and invisible boundaries that were already set in place. It was lot of work trying to tie all of those pieces together but I did it. It was worth every single fight, tear, argument, quiet drive, hotel room stay and make-up session there ever was.
In fact, being a mother is about engaging strengths not knowing you had and dealing with fears you never knew even existed. He never said the words, “you’re not my mom” or “I hate you.” I felt his affections through hugs and kisses. He gave me flowers almost daily, a heart shaped rock, drew pictures and made me trinkets that I have on fond display. He’s not my child by blood and doesn’t call me “mom” but he does own a piece of my heart, my support, and never ending love. Our skin doesn’t match, nor do we have the same blood type. He doesn’t have my eyes, nose or shaped face. He doesn’t have any of my traits either. I’ve only looked at him as extension of my husband. I dedicated myself because they were already given up on once and I wasn’t going to let that happen again.
As I look back while moving forward as a woman, not only was this challenge one of the most emotional I have encountered on my journey, it was one that made me not only a better mother, but a wiser woman.
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Been staring at my laptop for over an hour. My mind is in a million places and at the same time, it is here.
I am saddled with responsibilities. I don’t even know I am saddled with them and how they came here, I can’t remember.
I’m lost again in thoughts that I do not own.
My phone rings.
I swear I was just thinking about the caller.
I smile. Could it be mere coincidence or have the stars decided to align in my favor?.
I have no idea where I will begin. Forgive me. This is rather tasking than I imagined.
It’s September already. Who would have thought? How time flies right?
Pardon me still, I know I probably am not making sense I am trying to gather my thoughts.
I am a young Woman -I am young.
A number of people do know my age and I know a million people that would be shocked when they find out my real age. Often times I wonder if I am too much for my person.
To some people, I am old. After all, I am a graduate, I have gone for my NYSC and I currently work. I have the life.
To some I am still a small girl. I will not even explain this.
To be honest, I am in between. I look at myself and I say I am old. I haven’t done as much as I ought to. I haven’t done enough of what I think I should do. Ridiculous right? I know the stares I get from people when we discuss and I begin to tell them the ambitions I have and how so badly I want to achieve them. ‘Will you not marry?’
‘Do you have time for a relationship?’
‘Will you cope?’
Will you find a man at this rate?’
‘What about family?’
‘You work too hard’.
The questions or rather the opinions and suggestions as regards my life are endless. What can I say? I just smile through it all. I humor those I should humor. I shock the ones that bug me too much with my responses. It could get tiring-If I let it but I know some people mean well and well, I don’t know much about the others. I just take it as it comes.
My day begins with checking my phone for mails and messages while I wait on my prayer partner’s call so we can start the day.
I check my messages, reply the mails I can and start some of the tasks.
In between tasks, I’d receive tasks from my boss for the day. Sometimes I skip breakfasts, sometimes I don’t. It all depends. By 11am I’m at work to continue with my deliverables. I get off work by 9pm if there isn’t extra work to be done.
You see, this lifestyle has earned me less friends and more acquaintances? I do not want to say enemies. I do not know if I have them. LoL.
Is it the way I envisioned it? Maybe, maybe not but at some point in my life, I made a decision to accept my being different and chose to travel the road less taken.
I wanted to be a lawyer at some point in my life. A fraction of me thinks I should still go ahead with it. But, I don’t know, it is still a thought. I have wanted to be many things. I still do but somehow writing has always been it for me. It has somehow managed to take centre stage of my life. I mean, I got my second job through writing; after I had sold myself though. I was asked to write a piece and boy did I write! I was offered the job (an entirely different job from what I went in for).
It became clear to me that somehow, I would eventually write for a living (this is me telling y’all that at some point you will buy my books and your kids will probably have my collection of poems on their list of books for their studies).
This is Nigeria, one cannot simply say ‘I will be a writer and blow like that’. You will work. Let’s keep that aside.
You see I have come to realize (you must know that this has come to be one of my favorite phrases by now). I have come to realize that life changes. As we progress, the need for a thing changes. One minute you need to pass common entrance and next thing it’s WAEC. Then again, you are struggling to pass jamb and next thing you are struggling to do your clearance so you can serve and then, all of a sudden your B.A isn’t enough anymore.
The reason you almost took your life. The reason friends laughed at you. the reason your mother sold vegetables. All of a sudden it isn’t enough. You have to do something. You have to take it a notch higher to get to a certain level.
And then in the process of it all, you are reminded; YOU ARE A WOMAN you need to slow down. And for a moment everything comes to a halt. Everything stops. You look around you and you see a continues cycle and you ask yourself, ‘is this what I’ll end up like?’. ‘Is this what it will be?’
I just stopped to dance. Somehow steam has to go.
I really want to make a difference. I don’t have to be popular but just make a difference. You know. All the late nights. All the early mornings. All the no-sleep nights, I somehow want to know that all of these are not in vain. Right?
How am I supposed to do it all? Live a dream, live a life and be what society wants me to be.
Let’s be honest, to an extent we are restricted by some of society’s demand. One can’t really exist without consciousness of these restrictions. These rules. These systems.
I journey through this path called life and although I see what I want somewhere faraway, I often doubt my abilities and my fuel instead my fears. I am allowed to be afraid but at the same time I can’t be.
‘you are a woman, Be strong!’
I feel pain.
Sometimes, I want to scream.
Sometimes I want to quit.
Sometimes I want the world to just for a moment, stop in time while I take it all in.
This headache has refused to leave. My eye bags have refused to deflate. My back has refused to stop to ache but in all of it, in all of the pain, the tears, the pressure, the blood, the sweat, the laughter, the fears, the frustrations, the expectations and the limitations, I’d look back and see how far I have come. You too would look at me with pride. Exactly how I want it or maybe more because if there is one thing I know I sometimes surprise myself. This time, with time, I’d surprise myself too.
Every challenge makes me a better me. I am always work in progress.
The other day, I was with my friends; Bisi, Omote and Tolu. I had seen Grace previously; a couple of days back actually. As we all conversed, I could feel it. I could feel the same uncertainty I always feel. The same fear I know and at the same time, the same promise we all have promised ourselves at various points in our different life journeys.
It’s easy to identify with them, maybe because I know them and then again, because I see me in each of them.
To every woman with a challenge on the road to greatness, know that you are not alone. Void of societal restrictions, we will surpass every expectation. Our names will be remembered. Our stories will be told and even when we leave, we will live because these challenges will make us.
Heck, we are in the making!
I have a report to write and I have to go home too.
Cheers!
©M.Chidi
A special thank you to The WOMAN everywhere. It is our hope,
that even through the challenges, you are loved. – thepublicblogger
Some Days by IvySoul Robinson written by Kendall F. PersTon
Only in The Neighborhood @ thepublicblogger.com
ONE LIFE TO LIVE
“Everyone has a contribution to make.”
cover images from the One Life to Live collection at unsplash
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adapted score and 2013 Song of the Year nominee
Rise of the Dynasty Overture
by Canadian Composer Renan Javier
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ONE LIFE TO LIVE
by Kendall F. Person
One Until we stop, we have no idea how tall we will grow. Until we quit, the sky remains the limit on high we can soar. Until we wake up, how do we know that the world has not stopped. And until we die, we will never know how long we will live. Chance may be a bettor’s sport, one we wish not to play, but even though we live separate lives, we are all in the same game.
A drunken driver may tempt chance, that they are feeling fine, while we are travelling on the road, excited to get back home. Obeying every traffic rule, clean and sober still, hands on nine and three, safety belt secure. One mile till the off ramp and only four blocks from there, but our game collides with the drunken driver and in an instant, ghosts appear. There are aspects we cannot control.
But we can control our internal vision, the self inside with goals and ambitions, the person who believes in goodness and in salvation, the one who comprehends that all men are created equal, the thinking being that understands, freewill accounts for our differences and respect allows for our understanding. And if we smile in the mirror, the smiling face we see, delivers visual confirmation, that our prayers have been answered, delivering the strength the day will need.
We embrace motivational speeches and enjoy the sound of care free quotes and movies with happy endings, but most days come equipped with an agenda: children to raise and bills to pay and obligations that must be met, forcing our external reality to be at odds with our inner self. A tug of war is not an option. We feel the peace of our internal vision, slip back into its slumber, and we cannot chase it to where it is going, because we are already late for work. Peace turns into disillusion, which morphs into blame, then finds comfort in anger. We falsely believe we have been abandoned, so the external forces begin to bombard us, and we give way to our differences, spending precious moments filled with rage and standing in judgement of one another, and all the while, the clock never stops ticking and chipping away at our one life to live.
The day ends and we have made no progress on our dreams nor have we given our internal vision a larger role. But until the world stops spinning or the sun falls out of the sky or our Higher Power declares His vengeance or chance zeroes in on us, the morning arrives and our inner vision will awaken, another chance to follow and become the person we are inside. Not perfect nor a blissful euphoric, but one that fills external obligations, while not succumbing, but the one that believes world peace is possible, and we are never to old to chase dreams and make new friends. We have the wisdom to understand who we are – a small but intricate piece of humanity – and each place we find ourselves, in the pews of our churches or in houses of strangers, we try to make a contribution toward peace. In every precious free moment of this one life we have to live, listen to our internal vision, the one that sees the beauty in everything. One
– this is…. The Neighborhood
Recommended: The Review: One Life to Live by C.J. Leger
Unsplash One Life to Live collection and links to artists
shadow in trancoso by Jussaro Romao, Rio De Janeiro
cagliari 2017 by Nicola Fioravante, Universe
catching the sun by Sam Headland, Oxfordshire England
moody by Denise Johnson, Riverton Utah
valle del cocora silhouette by Deivid Saenz, Madrid Spain
sunset by Steve Halama, Billings Montana
reading with magnifying glass by Jao Silas, Cianorte Brazil
If you live in or around Tampa or Montreal, or visiting or such a strong connection, that somehow you will find a way. For the championship, anyone can play, because it’s not about the individual, it’s about the places we call home.
Submission Deadline Nov 24 by 11:59pm EST
for more info, please visit CITIES in the menu or email contact@thepublicblogger.com or join your team via facebook or google+
facebook groups google+ communities
#TeamTampaCities #TeamTampa – CITIES Championship RD
#TeamMontreal #TeamMontreal – CITIES Championship RD
Your one time donations or continual; from $1.00 to what your value and comfort dictates, you are appreciated very much. The name says Kendall F. Person, but the The Neighborhood is what you are supporting. (big smile)
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What does it mean to you?
THE DEATH NAIL IS THE SHAME OF EVANGELICALS
“The mind is its own place,
and in itself can make a heaven of hell,
a hell of heaven..” – John Milton, Paradise Lost
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from 1990….
The Devil Went Down to Georgia
by The Charlie Daniels Band
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THE DEATH NAIL
IS THE SHAME OF EVANGELICALS
by Kendall F. Person
On a random day, many years ago, a childhood friend asked me to pick him up from a drinking establishment. As we were both adults, and often called upon one another, the request was not unusual, but the location was since he did not drink. Once I spotted him inside the bar, it was crystal clear, that not only was he drinking, he was stone cold drunk. He had only recently discovered, that he was adopted, something most of his inner circle already understood. It initially appeared, he had taken the news well, but it was the final revelation that forever changed the man.
Christ of St. John of the Cross by Elder Sprite
I had a seat next to him at the bar. Blood shot eyes for sure but they also looked lonely and scared. He pointed to a manilla envelope he received from the adoption agency. As it turned out, not only was he adopted but he was not even of the same race, that he assumed all these years. If that was not enough, his request to meet his birth parents had been denied. His birth mom’s father, had his father deported and he died soon after. His birth mom was mortified at the request to reunite, so she ordered the file to be locked down and her identity never revealed, to a son she never wanted.
To say that it changed him, would be a useless description. He became cruel and spiteful and somewhat vicious to the family that raised him. He was belligerent and loud and turned his back on anyone, that was of the race he once thought he was.
I remember being so angry, for his over-the-top metamorphosis. It did not matter, who his parents were, for he was still the same person…to us. But decades later, I would come to understand his rage. To him, his entire identity had been stripped away. He had no idea and never would, where his bloodlines were drawn. He would turn his torment on the only family that loved him, but he had to blame someone because he felt completely alone. And one day, he walked away from what he called a life spun of lies.
∞∞∞
I wonder what he was thinking – Alabama State Auditor and self-proclaimed evangelical Jim Zeigler – when he blew his religion sky high. He did it not because he had suddenly found science, but in order to protect an alleged pedophile, where even in prison populations set at level 5, they are not treated with kid gloves or kindness. But on par with Zeigler’s public interpretation of the Holy Bible that changes its entire meaning at ground level, was the abject silence ricocheting throughout the Evangelical community. It was a deafening noise, yet either they pretended to not hear it, or they have become accustomed to changing stories.
“If I knew these women I would pray for them, but I still believe Roy Moore” – Brandon Moseley, Alabama Evangelical Journalist
The Democratic nominee to fill the empty US Senate seat from Alabama is a man named Doug Jones. He is well known for the prosecution of the Klansman that bombed an Alabama Church, killing four little girls. I like to think that this game of tribal partisanship has reached its peak, but the evangelicals ignore a man like Jones and remain so defiant, they sacrifice God’s only son, forcing the consideration – we have yet to hit rock bottom.
Is their silence because they do not fully understand the implications of what he said? That the idea of immaculate conception, of a virgin Mary giving birth, he kicked then shot dead; and that Jim Zeigler has not simply questioned religion, but redefined it as a story of fiction. And all these years the lessons of humanity they claimed to teach, where they knowingly spreading lies? Or are they being complicit in driving the death nail into Evangelicalism once and for all? But it does not really matter, for they will simply change the story to fit their lifestyle of choice. Their willingness to use the name of God in defense or in condemnation of any and everything, gives Jesus a meaningless identity. And that is a shame for their true believers.
— an opinion from thepublicblogger
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FALLEN: THE VETERANS DAY SHOW
An Encore Presentation
Since 2013, The Neighborhood has celebrated Veteran’s Day with a salute to the Homeless Veterans and those suffering with PTSD. In 2017, we saluted the Fallen and remembered the Forgotten American Soldiers, with a brief but personal tribute of our own.
In 2018, we present this encore presentation.
Enjoy the show. – KP
Long live the American Soldier.
Long live the fallen.
And long live the forgotten.
∞∞∞
In memory of the Forgotten,
please stand or kneel in tribute to the Fallen.
The United States Army Band
w/ Military Taps
∞∞∞
FALLEN
by Kendall F. Person
She awoke one morning, and somehow felt different.
The sickness overwhelmed her, yet she had no fever.
She wanted to walk, but her feet hurt her.
The sunshine was mild, still it did heat her.
It did not go away, so she saw her doctor.
When the news was delivered, it unnerved her.
She was carrying the child of a soldier,
and it so moved her. When she told him,
he saluted the flag, then kneeled before her.
It grew inside, and it changed her.
He smiled each time, it moved inside her.
Their love had changed, it became deeper.
The bloodline made, did forever connect them.
Her water broke, he was so nervous.
The time had come, it was predestined.
She pushed so hard, it was exhausting.
But she could feel him by her side, unbending.
She could not describe,
how her heart was beating,
when his son arrived,
it was the greatest feeling.
His father only once cried,
she now remembered seeing him.
He could not control the tide,
as the rain did tell her,
he cried now. and it calmed her.
Not in sorrow nor regret,
but in pride and honor.
Tho his spirit lived among the fallen,
his life would never dwell among the forgotten.
The Neighborhood thanks all soldiers for their service, AND Happy Veterans Day to our Veterans
Before the year ends… SMILE AGAIN
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