The Candy House

You know you remember it. Everyone knew about it. Your auntie would send you there to buy her a pickle and some nowlaters (now and laters). Yes, the candy house in all its inconsistent hours of operation, non-tax paying goodness. There was no EBT back then so it was cash only and you better believe they accepted food stamps. When I was going to Emerson elementary, I remember the candy house being on the southwest corner of Chester Avenue right across the street from south park. I think there was another one on pearl but I can vaguely remember that one. No one really knew when they were open unless you saw a line of kids standing outside the house. You could always count on their rock bottom prices. You could actually walk in with a quarter and come out with a handle full of stuff.

I don’t remember there being a candy house when I lived on Cliveden. That was really just where I laid my head. All of my good friends were on Pearl by my school. I remember the candy house always being open on Friday’s only. I and my comrade Walter would get out of school and see the long line damn there wrapped around the block. We would immediately run home to get money from our grand mothers. “A buck’ll do ya.” A dollar was more than enough at the candy house. We’d meet back up and ran back to go stand in line. We’d usually go stand next to our friends ahead of us in line a la “chat n’ cut”. Yes, Larry David did not invent the “chat n’ cut”. The line did move slow because the candy house had a wide selection. They only let two kids in at a time. It was usually an adult or two waiting inside to serve you. When you got in all the candy was there for you to select from. You had to tell the adult what you wanted and they would get it for you. I’m sure this was to keep our busy little hands off their merchandise. The prices were too cheap for anyone to want to steal anyway. There was also respect for the folks who ran the candy houses. Why would you want to steal from someone who not only lived in the neighborhood but brought a little bit of happiness to it?

There was so much selection; you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. Even though you had a dollar, you still needed to manage it well. Unless you were one of those kids whose grandparents slid them a five. Then you had no worries. They would usually come out with a brown paper bag full of stuff. Punks! Any who. You worked with whatever you had. I’d usually get myself a snicker and some nowlaters. I never really liked much else. I wasn’t really a “candy kid”.

It was always a good time for all when the candy house was open. Whether you were just buying something for yourself or taking orders from everyone in your house, all appreciated the candy house. I always respected the homeowner’s entrepanuerial spirit. I don’t know if they still have candy houses anymore. I remember there being one year ago when we moved to Gardena but it was only open one weekend. I never heard of folks in LA having candy houses. Maybe it was just a Compton thing.

School Yard Gladiators

September 26, 2011

School Yard Gladiators

You can’t be a punk as a young man in Compton. When you get tested, you have to defend yourself. If you don’t, people take notice and will continue to test you the same. As I look back at those days on the Emerson elementary playground, I think about all the school yard tussles I had. It wasn’t many. I an only remember a few of them. I can’t remember what they were about but I could tell you how fared in each of those bouts. There were a few that stick out in my head. The only reason I remember them so well was because they were extremely violent. I wasn’t the only one having death matches in school either. Some of my friends back then were involved in some wars as well. Keep in mind; all of the stories are about elementary school kids. Let’s go back to one of the most violent years that I can remember. 1992.

Walter Vs. Jonathan

I don’t know what they didn’t like about each other but they had a pretty intense feud going on. The fight started on the playground when we were playing an extreme form of basketball called “nigga ball”. In “nigga ball”, if you missed a shot everyone on the court had to punch you until you reached a collectively pre-selected “base”. I decided to play this time. I knew Walter and Jonathan had beef, so I wanted to see what would happen if either one of them missed a shot. Walter missed first. Like an opportunist, Jonathan was the first to run up. Walter immediately ran for the “base”. Jonathan was able to catch Walter and delivered a hammer fist from hell to his back. You could feel the thud in the air. The blow was so hard Walter fell to the broken glass riddled pavement. Not only was he hit in the back viciously, he now had glass in his hands. Walter was so upset that he started to cry. No one touched him as he got up from the ground. He ran over to Jonathan who had already started running, Walter jumped in the air and delivered a jump kick to Walter’s back. Jonathan hit the ground and bounced right back up to defend himself. Fisticuffs ensued. We were at the North East side of the playground. There was hardly ever any supervision on this side. The two could battle without any interruption. It was hand to hand for about a good minute. Usually, when kids are fighting, all the other kids gather around and chant “Fight! Fight! Fight!”. The fights are then quickly broken up by a teacher or other adult. Not this time. We were all silent because this needed to happen. Everyone knew that Walter and Jonathan didn’t like one another.

Once the alarm sounded to signal the end of recess, Jonathan made a dash for Walter’s jacket for some reason. He grabbed it and ran as fast as he could. I didn’t get a chance to follow them because I went to go stand in line to go back to class. By the time we all went back to the classroom and sat down, Walter and Jonathan still hadn’t emerged. Next thing I know, Jonathan had run into the class room to seek refuge. He turned the corner out of the doorway to run for the teacher but Walter had grabbed the jacket which prohibited Jonathan from going any further because he was holding it in his hand. They struggled for the jacket. The teacher was demanding that they stop. Walter was able to snatch the Jacket from Jonathan. With just the sleeve of the jacket clinched in hand, Walter delivered 2 blows to Jonathan’s head. Jonathan stood the motionless. The whole classroom was silent. We starred in awe as blood poured from Jonathan’s face like a spike had been driven through the top of his head. The teacher grabbed both students and escorted them to the head office. I cannot remember what happened to them after that but that fight was a bloody violent mess indeed.

Anthony and Me Vs. Courtney and Antoine

Anthony was a chum of mine back in the days. He’s a tall, skinny, glasses wearing genius. Anthony, Endria Smith, Vanish Pope, and myself were in a group called the four intellectual souls. What can I say? We were gifted kids. Out of all of us, Anthony fit the description of your stereotypical schoolyard nerd. Of course, bullying ensued. He was frequently chastised by 2 goons named Antoine and Courtney. However, unlike the stereo typical nerd, Anthony would fight back. Viciously. I even remember Anthony using a book as projectile against a foes one time. He wasn't the type to just let you push him around, even if he was out numbered.

I remember one day we were lined up outside for some reason and the goons were bothering Anthony again. The teacher was in the office for some apparent reason, so we were outside in line unsupervised. It started with a shoving match. Then jackets and shirts were getting grabbed and pulled on. Anthony tried to defend himself with his backpack but it ended up ripping open with its contents flying everywhere rendering it useless. I couldn’t let them do my friend like that. I had to step in. I went for Antoine. It was now a fatal 4-way match. As we all fought, I became enraged for some reason. It may have been because I got a punch to the face which is a pet peeve of mine. I started to attack Antoine with extreme prejudice. I had managed to wrestle him to the ground. From there I grabbed his head and started to smash it on the ground and into the pole he was lying next to.
As I dwell on this now, I cannot imagine why I was so upset. I could have injured this kid permanently or worse killed him. As a matter of fact, why did we all react so violently? I believe it has to do with our environment but also the way men in general handle their physical disputes. Generally speaking, women usually fight to humiliate. Their fights usually consists of biting, scratching, hair pulling, and clothing destruction. Personally, I have never heard of a woman beating someone to death. I believe men fight for survival. It’s a hard wired instinct. When you combine that potential with a harsh environment, I believe the reaction can be many times worse. But how many life threatening altercations could a 10 year old have possibly been involved in to warrant such a hardened reaction? Slim to none. Home and family life plays a big role. Being immersed in an environment where domestic and gang violence is the norm can wear on a child. So these extreme acts of aggression may have been learned. It wasn’t our fault. Having these violent tendencies fit nicely into world of gang banging though. However, it doesn't have to. I didn't spend the rest of my life trying to kill people even though I almost tried to that day. I actually developed quite a thick skin. I don't know what would need to happen in order for me to react like that again. Just don't test me. I personally, don’t know what happened to Antoine, Courtney, and Jonathan. Walter ended up gang banging for some crip set. Anthony is now married with children. He now lives a non-violent peaceful life.

Improvise #2

Certain things you went without. Then there were things that you just ran out of. Hence the blog title "improvise"

you need a mint....

Wow you caught me off guard
She went to breath out
Then she made me cough hard
Contacted god and let him know to slip 2 in
Fine. How are you doing?
Can I get you a drink?
This one's a shoe in

Awkward situation that I'm on a mission to ruin
Her big butt and smile was like camo
Hit up the men's room, we need more ammo
Watch your 3 o'clock, a new recruit
That's her gin and Juicy Juice
Use a stick of Juicy Fruit
She just knew she was cute

It's in her own best interest
It's less stress
Hit her with the "do you need a mint test"
It don't matter if she's slim or dressed to impress
I won't rest
Fella's don't fess
Some of 'em just need to eat the whole thing of Crest

It's been a long day
It's just how the song say
I hope she don't take this the wrong way.......

You need a mint bitch...


inspired by...Operation lifesaver by Madvillian

Hood Misconceptions: "you're running up my light bill"

You know it well. Your grand parents would constantly tell you this. Whenever something was done in excess, this was what they would throw at you. Whether it was because you had a light on a little too long or if you brought your video games to their house. It almost seemed like everything ran up your grandparents electricity bill. Below I'll cover a few of the most common scenarios in which you may have experienced.


1. Watching too much TV

I don't know about you but whenever I was inside the house a little too much my grandmother would monitor my Tv activity. The best cartoons usually came on around 3:00pm in a 2 hour block. So that meant you were in the house watching tv instead of playing outside. I could never understand why it was such a big deal. Was my presence just annoying to my grandmother? Does electricity really cost that much that I can't watch goof troop at 4 pm? As kids you are taken advantage of. Adults would knowingly use excuses like these just to get you to comply with their demands. I couldn't possibly understand how it felt to pay an electricity bill. I could only go by what they told me. Me personally, I would never tell this to any kid because consciously I know that watching tv for 2 hours will not make your electricity bill sky rocket. I'd just simply say the tv needs to rest.

2. Having too many lights o

This is completely understandable. You don't necessarily want to have lights on that you are not using. However, my grandmother's house was scary at night. During the summer, my brother and I would go visit her in Pomona for weeks on end. At dinner time we would have to eat at the table in the kitchen. We'd have the lights on in the living room and the hall just to ease our minds while we would eat. Then my grandmother or grandfather would come and turn them all off. It would look like me and my bro were having a damn romantic dinner. Now we couldn't see what was going on in the hallway or the scary ass living room with that ultra graphic statue of Jesus hanging from the wall. I guess this was their way of having us man up. I'm not too sure. But I don't see an issue with leaving two lights on for like 30 extra minutes. No biggie. It was all about control though I believe. I'm sure they knew they were bullshitting us.

3. Miscellaneous

Didn't it just seem like No matter what you did, somehow you would inadvertently find a way to run up your grandparents light bill? Running in the house? "Stop running! You're gonna run up my light bill". Listening to a Walkman a little too much? "isn't that using my electricity ? No, grandma it's not. "well turn it off because I'm gonna have to buy you new batteries if those run out and I can't afford that because my light bill is so high". Oh really now?

Last but not least..…

4. Video Games

This one used to really get on my nerves. Old folks and video games never were a a good mix. My grand parents would HATE when we would bring our video games to their house. I don't know why they hated it so. Usually we could never hook it up to the living room tv. They believed that video game systems somehow had the tendency to break tvs. So when we would bring our nintendo over, miraculously they're tvs started to act up in someway afterward. Don't forget that playing video games have the potential to make your electricity bill go up about an extra $1000.00. Maybe they were jealous of the fun we were having? Probably. I think it was because old folks were intimidated by technology. they just didn't understand it

Episode 6: Dirty Diana Part 1

Every time I think about this story, Michael Jackson's "Dirty Diana" comes to mind.

In 2000, I was focused. All I cared about was doing well in school and excelling in football. I didn't want any distractions or any BS. I had a really good head on my shoulders. I'm still searching for that balance I had back in those days. In high school, my dealings with women were sporadic. I'll blame this on the final stages of puberty, my focus and being really insecure at that time. It was OK though; I didn't feel like I was missing anything. One evening I was talking to my mom while I was doing my homework. She started telling me about some girl at her job that was drooling over my football picture at her job. She told me she thought I was "fine", "sexy", and all that. This hit me pretty hard because I hadn't been called sexy since the 4th grade. I mean, I was a big guy in high school. Most high school girl's taste in men hadn't matured enough to accept a big guy as a mate. So, I was flattered as hell. I wanted to see what this girl looked like. I hoped she was fine and sexy herself, as compliments from unattractive girls don't really score you any points. My mom described her as short, brown skinned with braids. This was not sufficient. I needed to know more details. "Does she have a big booty?" I asked. My mom replied, "I don't know! I don't look at her butt!" I said "Mom, lies make baby Jesus cry". She stood her ground. I guess she really hadn't look at her booty before. Having "some kind of booty" is a non negotiable with me. It didn't have to be all huge, just curvy and cheeky. I'm flexible. I asked her if she could look at her ass for me the next time she went to work. She replied with "I guess” It makes me laugh thinking about asking my mother to look at a girl’s booty for me.

The next day my mom came back with news. "It's cool,” she reported back to me. "It’s cool? Anything else?" I said. She replied, "Well, she does have really big chest” I wasn't a breast man back then. I was on the verge of not giving this girl a chance. Then my mom took out a picture of her. She was all right. She was just a regular looking black girl. I couldn't see her breast in the picture because she had on a flannel. I fought with the thought of giving her a chance for a few days. I carried the picture around with me. I was at a stand still. Then I came up with an Idea. What better way to get help with making a difficult decision, than third party opinion? The first person I asked was my buddy Andre. I had to get a little creative on how I asked him his opinion of her. I took out the picture and asked, "If this girl liked you, would you hit it?" He said yes. Things were looking good for Diana but I needed that one more push. So I asked my home girl Nicole what her thoughts were. When approaching Nicole with the question, I made it seem like I was already dating Diana. Nicole replied, "She got some ashy lips!" One thing you could always count on with Nicole is keeping it real. Having ashy lips is certainly not a good thing. This was a strike against Diana. I came to my own conclusion. Why not give her a chance? She was OK looking. I could deal with ashy lips. I would just carry around Vaseline for whenever she needed it.

So my mom set it up. She brings her phone number back to me a few days later. Our first phone conversion was cool. We talked for maybe a good hour. It wasn't anything serious. Just the basics. She lived in Compton temporarily but was raised in LA. Her house was being fumigated so her whole family had to relocate to her aunt's house. First we would talk every other day. It eventually got to the point where we were talking everyday. All I was doing was having fun. I enjoyed our conversations a lot. Am sure she enjoyed them as well. Maybe a little too much.
First it started with a little harmless flirting, like when I would answer the phone she would say, “Hey sexy” or “Hey boo”. “Boo” was a name that always irritated me. Diana would just over do it. She would call me “boo” after every damn sentence. It honestly made me hate that damn word. Word got back to our parents on how good we were getting along. My parents teased me about how much we liked each other. I let them know that we were just friends. On Diana’s side this was not the case. Her whole family was ecstatic about the fact that we were talking. Diana’s mom was the most excited. I started hearing that Diana was telling her mom what we would talk about. My mom would try to verify the things she would hear. Things like me taking Diana with me when I go to college or how I was planning a getaway for Diana and I during spring break. This was all just a bunch of tall tales but I still played along. Even though she was a nice girl so far, I had no feelings for her and I wasn’t physically attracted to her. I knew our relationship took a turn when my I received a letter from her in the mail. I believe when someone writes you a letter that it’s a very personal thing.

When I opened the envelope, I was surprised when I found a picture made with color pencils. She had drawn two champagne glasses on a clothed table next to a bottle of champagne that read B+D. Above the champagne bottle was a heart with an arrow through it. She had drawn the picture with a lead pencil but traced over the outline of the glasses, heart, and champagne glass with its appropriate color pencil then colored inside each one. Diana was falling in love with me. Things started to get hot and heavy. We had started talking about sex and everything for a while. There were some conversations where she was playing with herself while we were talking. She would either tell me she was doing it or her moans and groans would tip me off.I do recall a few occasions where she'd actually let me hear as she was pulling her finger(s) in and out. That was hot. I won’t lie. She used to tell me that whenever we had our first date, she was going to pull me inside a woman's restroom and give me the blowjob of the century. This didn't sound too bad when she first said it but as it soaked in I had second thoughts. I think this was the time I was further developing my taste in women. Did I really want to be with a girl who would give a guy the blowjob of the century in a public restroom on their first date? No, I didn't but I couldn't tell her that. I wanted the blowjob on a subconscious level. We were weird generation. Oral sex would often come before sex. It wasn’t uncommon for one of the fellas to report back with “oh, we just kissed, I sucked her titties, fingered her, and ate her pussy” after hanging out with a girl.

A blowjob was something I had never experienced before. I was torn. I needed a second opinion and who better to give that opinion than my buddy Eli. Eli was only 17 but had extremely strong moral and ethical values. He was a die hard Christian but was guilty of leading on a few women in his lifetime. I knew he had experience. I called him up and ran the situation by him. He scolded me. I knew what I was doing was wrong but couldn't get passed what my flesh wanted. Eli brought me back to reality. I felt horrible and what was worse is that I had to face the daunting task of telling Diana my true feelings.

I chilled for a minute before calling her. I ate, played the video game for a bit and showered. I turned off all the lights in my room and turned on the radio. I was hoping to fall asleep to the music but I was too nervous. I had never let a girl down before in my life. This was really hard for me because I hate it when people are mad at me for any reason. As I lay there in my bed looking up at the ceiling with a sullen face, "I'm not in love" by 10cc comes on the radio. The universe was toying with me now. I got pissed and turned the radio off halfway through the song.
A surge of testosterone shot through my body. "I can handle this!" I thought to myself. I picked up the phone and dialed the number. "Fuck this shit! Imma just tell her wassup!" I said. The phone was ringing. "Hey!" someone answered. It was she. The way Diana used to say "hey" when she answered the phone always did something to me. It was a weird combination of annoyance and comfort. They canceled each other out which left only the cold feet I got when I heard her say "hey” I talked to her for a few minutes. It was mostly non-sense. I had to come clean. I was tired of stalling. "Diana, we have to talk about something,” I said to her. Unnecessarily prepping her for the bad news. "I really liked the stuff we were talkin' about earlier. I know you liked it too. But you know, after we got off, I sat back and thought about some things. I wanna apologize to you for the things that I said. I shouldn't have done that. I liked the things you were saying but I realized that friends don't do stuff like that. I mean, you shouldn't wanna give anybody a blowjob in a public restroom. That's not what a lady does ya know? I'm sure your future husband wouldn't be OK with that. Friends don't do stuff like that you know? We can still go to the movies like we talked about but as friends."










It was completely silent for a few minutes......






"Diana?" I asked. ".........Yes" she muttered. "Do you have anything to say?" I asked. She said no. I replied "why?" There was silence”……….” “Hello?” I said. “Are you there?” I asked. "I'M FUCKIN' HURT!" she said sadly. She started to cry. Loudly. I did it. For the first time in my life, I made a woman cry. It wasn't a good feeling at all. For about a cool 5 minutes she sobbed. I just listened in silence all the while thinking of what to say to make it all better. I just wanted it to stop. I should have just let her cry and let time heal her wounds. I wish I would have. I gave in. "We can still talk everyday. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't talk to you everyday. When I'm in class I look forward to hearing your beautiful voice." "Really?" she asked. My BS was working unfortunately. "Oh yes, I love your voice" I said. It was getting ridiculous. I was falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of untruth. She had stopped crying but I was still full of guilt. I felt like I needed to put a cherry on top. I said "Yea, you know it's ok if we're friends. I love being your friend. I think friends should actually love each other too” Can you see where this is going? Straight to hell. She asked, "So you love me?" "Yes, I love you Diana" I replied tentatively. I had dug my own grave. I knew good and well I had no feelings for this girl. Eli had told me what to say but he didn't prepare me for her tears.

We talked for a few more minutes then got off the phone. Around this time my brother and sister were in their beds asleep. It was weird, immediately after hanging up with her; I felt a strong sense of embarrassment. What had I gotten myself into? I had just filled this girl's head with poison. Little did I know, what I was about to experience would leave me permanently scared for life. Things were about to get real graphic.

To be continued…..

Hood Pastimes: Snapset Swimmingpools

Let's face it; it's hot in the summertime. Just accept it. So one has to find ways to keep cool. Usually we would just spray each other with the water hose. This was actually the norm. There were people that had in-ground swimming pools in Compton. Unfortunately, we only knew one person who had an in-ground swimming pool in Compton but he stayed on Pearl Ave and we lived on Cliveden. Regardless, his parents were total assholes about their swimming pool. I can't remember the guys name but who cares he was an asshole. We had to make our own summer fun with what we had.

Once or twice a summer, my mom would buy us one of those snapset swimming pools. You know those above ground pools that come in a box you could buy from J.J. Newberry or PIC-N-SAVE. They usually cost around $20. These round shaped pools were usually 8 feet wide and about 2 feet in depth. You could only really wade in it because it was too small to actually swim in. Usually, we brought our action figures in the pool with us to fight with them in a different element. We had a love hate relationship with our snapset pools. You'd like to think that you could go head and fill up the pool, play in it, and then store it for another summer. Not those cheap pieces of shit. Im gonna cover some of the snapset swimming pool rules we used to have and common annoyances. Im already getting pissed just thinking about what I'm about to write!!!

Proper set up

Do not, and i mean DO NOT, set up a snap set pool on unlevel ground. It took us a few times to learn this. Our backyard was always messed up so we could never use it back there. Unfortunately that was the best place for it. Although dirty as hell, the ground was balanced. We were forced to use it in the front yard. Front yards in general are made at a slant. Possibly to support the house? I don't know. So what you would get was a snapset pool with all the water leaning to one side. Over time this will wear on the sides making them unstable and sometimes causing spillage. We would try our best to set the pools up on the most even parts of the front yard. A few times we thought we had it right but the pool has its way of showing you that you fucked up. Somehow the water would end up leaning to one side anyway even though you thought you picked a good place. I used to feel like the pool was laughing at us behind our backs. Did it not want us to have a good time? Did it care about the embarrassment we suffered when we would tell our friends to come over for a swim and only to hear them say "What the fuck is this shit?" when they got there? Probably not.

Holes

Snapset pools and holes are like lips and herpes simplex 1: random, inevitable, and annoying. It seemed like no matter how careful we were, there was always gonna be hole somewhere. We'd notice the water level getting lower and lower. I know you're like, "Hey slapass, just put more water in the pool." Not at a old black person's house. We had a hard enough time maintaining the pool but actually filling it up with water was a challenge too. We lived with my great grandmother back in those days. I guess water was just like $50 a quart because she would complain about her water bill so much when we filled up that pool. Due to that, we could not refill it. So if a hole found our pool, we were out of luck. There is no repairing those holes because the pool itself is made out of cheap material. It was just a $20 piece of blue and white garbage after that. Just face it; if you buy a snapset pool, you might as well call yourself a pimp because you are gonna get holes. Teehee.

Grass and Mud

I can't stress this enough. Wipe your feet very well before putting them inside one of these things. So much effort was put into keeping these things grass and dirt free. Depending on how anal we were and what company we had, we did a decent job of enforcing this. We learned to keep a towel and a piece of card board at the entrance of the pool. This would work well at times. I mean, no one wants to dunk their head in the pool and come back up with grass in the corner of their eyes. It’s not a pleasant experience. The issues would arise when folks would still get in the pool with grassy and muddy feet.

One summer day, we invited our friends Charlie and Derrick over to swim. We cleaned and set up the pool with extra care so we could impress them. Charlie was excited but his brother Derrick was low key about it. I don’t know where Charlie and Derrick were born but they both had accents. Charlie had a weird way of saying the word “pool”. For some reason he would pronounce it as “pua” (poo-uuh). It took me a few minutes to digest this as the first few times he said it, I couldn’t help but laugh. We filled the pool up almost to the point where it overflowed. We had our cardboard and towel out for our feet and everything. Everything was going great. Until other kids in the neighborhood say how much fun we were having.

A few kids that I had seen in the neighborhood came over to ask if they could swim too. I told them it was ok as long as they kept their feet clean and didn’t mess up the pool. Next thing I know, there are 6 other kids in the pool and a few outside chasing each other. My plan was going to hell. Then one of the stupid kids decided to throw dirt at people. Dirt is a ridiculous choice to be used as a projectile. The dirt was flying all over and eventually made its way to the pool. Once they saw the pool already dirty, I guess they said “fuck it”. The pool was a mess now. One kid had his feet and legs completely covered in mud and jumped in the pool to clean himself off. He did this several times. I’m thinking to myself, “Really dude? This is just your bath tub huh?” Those kids were straight up users. I never heard from them again.

Snapset pools were fun. We always enjoyed them. When you think back sometimes, you see things from a different perspective. Even though they were cheap pieces of junk, we would never turn one down. You make do with what you have.