Daily Archives: September 20, 2010

this is our last few hours in new york

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and as always it has taken my breath away

yes theres the energy. the possibilities. the buildings. the diversity. the music. the power. the history. the people. the doggies. the newspapers. the food the food the food. the bars. the people in jets and giants jerseys. the lights. the boats. the parks. the little garbage cans. the brownstones. the markets. the late night every things.

but theres something even more.

yesterday we had a great lunch with my dear friend amy who gave me some great advice about Whats Next for me. its weird when i first started at LAist she was all, ok thats great but Whats Next? i was like omg i have my dreamiest job, i get to wear pajamas and blog and blog what could be more than this? and she would say youre tony pierce youre bigger than one blog no matter how much you grow it.

and now shes still saying theres a tony pierce project i should be thinking about. and its fascinating because when she was the editor of our college paper winning every award you could imagine our biggest dreams back then were to work for papers like the LA Times. but still she says theres more.

i dont want more. i want a freaky crazy quality. i want to be part of a fine and funky system. i want to be… i dont know what. nirvana meets miles meets king kong.

this is what i want. i want exactly what happened for dinner.

right before dinner we had a great conversation with our friend anna who knows more about the other dimensions than makes some comfortable. including me. i had been reading the first 10 psalms when she came home. then we all talked. then i had to use the restroom (its getting better) and i read a few pages of meghan mccains book and im loving it. then i rejoined the convo with anna and my truest. it went on for hours.

around 11 it was decided that my baby wanted to eat and since we hadnt eaten since mexican bbq with amy we left the house and found our way to the R train. we were told to get off at R street and walk a few blocks to a Cafe. i figured that because the Giants game was in the 3rd quarter that everything would be open. sadly the Colts were demolishing the Giants so things were closing.

didnt matter. we kept walking and we ended up at the muy romantico Brooklyn Promenade. quality views. sweet couples arm in arm or cuddling checking out that great view. all the lights. a few boats. but mostly loveliness. we kept strolling. where? who knows. at some point i put “restaruants” in Google Maps but there werent that many near brooklyn bridge. there was one pizza place that said “no slices” but that one was getting close to closing and i hate to be that guy who keeps everyone open longer than they want. so we strolled until a cab came by.

we got in, a nice man with a long beard and a turban welcomed us calmly. “can you take us across the street, i mean across the bridge to the city. we want to go to a restaurant thats still open.”

he said, “there are many that are still open.”

i said, “good, take us to the place where there are many that are still open.”

we got on the bridge. it was gorgeous. he said, “east village?” i said sure.

thats how i want my life to be. quiet, peaceful, working together with my brothers and sisters. trusting. loving. respecting. but at the same time its a little tiny mini adventure of discovery.

some may say never just let the cabbie be in total control. but control is an illusion. whos really in control when youre in the back seat? you could say 42nd and 5th and he drives you to detroit. so why not just sit back and enjoy the ride?

ended up at 7A, which strangely is a place i walked by years ago. its across from a crazy park in alphabet city. theres a wall painted for Joe Strummer. “know your rights”.

you have the right, to love.

you have the right, to learn.

you have the right, to live.

thought about eating ice cream after dinner. a dinner that featured music by jay-z on the speaker. one great hit after another.

thought about a belgian waffle in a store that had lots of nice pictures of our president.

saw a sticker with our president. saw graffiti celebrating our president.

i remember when reagan was around, i remember when clinton was around. i never remember the kids (and adults) being so excited about the sitting president.

if the question is hows that hopey changey stuff working out for you, the answer in many corners of where ive been lately is the people still believe. and better than believing in one man or one party – they believe in themselves. and whoever that guy is who they keep making posters of, he simply represents what that hope and change is. he symbolizes what it is in our hearts and our hoods.

and if you want to make a belgian waffle and name it obama and eat it, thats fine too.

next stop chicago.

today is my mom’s 28th birthday.

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happy birthday!

i first met my mother a long time ago. im not sure what she expected but she got me and you know she didnt predict this, but for a mild mannered southern belle from fort valley georgia, she didnt freak out as much as you’d think.

i was wild as a kid. the doctors called me hyper, but my grandparents called me a kid. my mom was very patient with me and quite smart. she was one of the first computer programmers ever. and definately one of the first black female computer programmers ever.

so when the doctors called me hyper she said, but my boy can sit still and do a whole jigsaw puzzle, and the doctors said, oh, really? because of that, they were unable to prescribe the ritalin or whatever they were going drug me with and we went on our way.

my mom raised not only me, alone, but my sister as well, who is also crazy. needless to say my mother was never bored. she worked long long hours at motorolas headquarters in schaumburg illinois and sometimes i think it was because she didnt want to come home to the madhouse that i was responsible for. but when she did come home it was always with love in her heart and mcdonalds in the car and loving questions about school or homework or basketball scores or the like.

i could never have asked for a better mom.

her mother was a librarian at the state college in georgia. during holidays we would go down there and we’d always end up at the library and i am sure that my love of books and writing is directly influenced by my razor sharp grandmother who read two newspapers before 9am and was working on one of her novels before breakfast was done.

my mother worked on computers all day and paid for my first computer, the apple IIc. i will never forget what she did for my sister and i. i will never forget how difficult it must have been to be a working single mother in a town of so few Blacks.

one day a “friend” of mine fell on the playground and lied to his father and said that his black eye was the result of me punching him. the father came to our door with his son and told my mother that he was informing us that he was going to beat his son because no son of his was going to be beaten up by a nigger.

instead of freaking out my mom sat me down and said that she knew that i didnt beat that boy up, but that race is a difficult thing for people to deal with, and some people are just plain crazy, but that we needed to be patient cuz the world would catch up with reason soon enough.

im still waiting on that one, ma.

my mom always threw big birthday parties for us, she gave presents to all the attendees, she drove us to practices and games and rehearsals and recitals, boy scout crap, girl scout crap, science fairs, parades, amusement parks, field trips, she hosted our sleepovers. she went to parent-teacher conferences, she drove us to the airport and back, she took us clothes shopping for school supplies in the fall, she did it all, and i dont remember her complaining and i dont remember overhearing her ever saying that it was too much of a burden.

there was never anything that i wanted that i wasnt given. ever. and we were not by any means a wealthy family. i have no idea how she did it. she was always there. was there when i went through college. is there now for my sister and my neice and nephew and my brother in law. was there for our dying relatives. is there for our friends of our family. she is rock solid.

one of the finest moments was when my mother took me to my first real rock concert. AC/DC Back in Black tour. i was but a wee lad. she had given my sister the album that christmas and here it was nine months later and somehow i scored 1 ticket in the 12th row. one ticket because none of my friends’ parents would allow them to go to the show. but my mom not only drove me (about an hour away), dropped me off early, and drove home, but after it was over i called from a payphone and she drove back to the arena to pick my little ass up.

not only would most mothers not allow their kids to see devil music (hells bells opened the show and i nearly peed my toughskins), particularily Alone, but how many would make two trips to ensure a safe ride?

when i became of age to drive she tightened the reigns a tad because in her words, “the roads are filled with drunk drivers”, but i was still allowed to drive into Chicago to see the cubs pretty much any time i had saved up enough allowance money to pay for it.

over the years she bought me a few saxamaphones, guitars, drums, lessons of all sorts, sports uniforms, bikes, games, books, junk food of all sorts, anything.

i cannot imagine a better childhood. i cannot think of anything i could have wanted more than the ability to be myself, and free, and trusted, and loved.

my mom did all those things for me and she continues to.

the only thing that she asked in return was that i be a good reflection of her.

and if it werent for the swear words in this blog im doing my best, although i know i fail pretty much every day. although when i quit weed im sure that made her happy.

i love you mom im sure you loved the bears game on sunday!

happy birthday!