So I turn 28 today. To signify this event, I wrote myself a letter. I’m not sharing it with anyone; just sharing with you that I did it.
From last birthday, courtesy of TheMissNguyen
I wanted to take a long, hard look at where I’ve been and where I’m at. And look at where/who/what I though I’d be 10 years ago when I was a high school senior.
I found that even though I’m in a good place all around, I’m not completely satisfied: I wanna be in a great place. And it’s not changes that I need — more along the lines of improvements and paradigm shifts.
I have never hid the fact that I want to be great. And I have plenty to strive for cuz I’m not yet there. The letter I wrote myself has me pointed where I need to go; maybe I’ll need a re-write at 29.
Here’s to 28 years.
Posted 7 months, 1 week ago at 10:59 AM. 2 comments
This is a review from my Favorite Books list; the link from which will be also on the Books Page.
***
“So simple is the analogy, that you can stop reading right now, walk away with the opening thought firmly planted in your mind and benefit from it the rest of your life.”
212 is one of those small, back-pocket book which I read in 20 minutes. The premise of 212 is how the simple 1-degree change from 211 to 212 turns very-hot water to steam, which is powerful enough to power trains. And this analogy can increase the output of anyone’s life. Simple enough, right?
Posted 9 months, 2 weeks ago at 11:15 AM. Add a comment
This is a review from my Favorite Books list; the link from which will be also on the Books Page.
***
“”That was supposed to go in,” he groaned. “How did that not go in?”
More than twenty-two years have passed since that night… And I still don’t have an answer for him. For everything else, I have answers.
I think.”
Bill Simmons is my favorite online author, favorite NBA writer/ observer, and I hope he watches me play someday and writes at least a paragraph about what he sees. With all that said, you must believe me in my saying that is completely without bias that if you are a fan of the NBA (whether it be from its beginnings or circa now), you MUST read this 700-page manifesto.
It took me 30 days and I did it in chunks. TBoB is one of those rare read-100-or-so-pages-in-one-sitting-and-not-even-notice books — something I don’t think I will be able to say about Obama’s Audacity Of Hope, which got bumped (for the fourth time!) when I received TBoB in the mail. Simmons tackles topics that bball fans love to discuss, such as who was better between Russel and Wilt, the definitive list of the best players of all time (in order), his ultimate hypothetical team, the Greatest Team of All Time, and much much more.
If you’re unsure and would like a risk-free trial reading of the man devoted enough to own the title of “The Sports Guy,” just go here to his online page at ESPN.com.
Posted 9 months, 3 weeks ago at 12:13 PM. Add a comment
and his struggle. I am a big fan of Tyler’s work and his rise to power in the entertainment industry. Tyler Perry turned down the huge payday that would have come with him selling his works to major film studios and instead opted to own all of his material, creating his own studio in Atlanta in the process. The way he came onto the scene just a few short years ago and became so popular may make Perry seem to be some sort of overnight success, but the below message (along with this concise Tyler Perry background story) shows that that assumption would be far from the truth. I felt this message should be shared with those whom otherwise would’ve missed it:
October 3rd , 2009
Hi there.
I know I’ve been a little quiet lately but I’ve been in silent reflection, quiet meditation, and prayer. Turning 40 is such a blessing. Especially because as I child I always thought I would die before I grew up.
If life begins at 40, then I owe the little boy that I was my life. Case in point, not long ago, I was brought a film to watch to see what I thought of it. It’s called PRECIOUS, based on the novel PUSH by Sapphire. I sat at home watching this movie not knowing what to expect. After the movie was over, I sat there for a long time just thinking about what I had just witnessed. I watched all the things that Precious, a 16-year-old girl in the film, went through. I watched her mother be unusually cruel to her and I realized at that moment that a large part of my childhood had just played out before my eyes. It hit me so hard, I sat there in tears realizing that somehow, by the grace of God, I made it through. My tears were tears of joy, being thankful that I made it.
Believe me when I tell you, PRECIOUS is a powerful film. After seeing it, I had to be involved. I didn’t write it or direct it, nor am I making any money from it. Oprah and I both are giving any proceeds we would make to charity. I just wanted to get as many people to see it as I can. It gave me so much hope after watching it. For everyone who has been a Precious, male or female, this movie will make you so glad you made it through.
It took me through some raw emotions and brought me to some things and places in my life that I needed to deal with but had long forgotten. It brought back memories so strong that I can smell and taste them. Like, when I was very young, my mother decided to leave my father…she had had enough of his insanity. She loaded me and my two sisters up in an old Cadillac that he had bought for her, and drove to California. When he realized she was gone, he called the police and reported the car stolen, as it was in his name. My mother was arrested and my two sisters and I were put in the cell with her. He and my uncle drove from Louisiana to California to get us. We spent several days in jail waiting for him. He bailed her out and couldn’t wait to get her into the car. He got into the back seat with us and beat her black and blue from California to Louisiana, as me and my sisters watched. Even though I was only two or three, I know that this had to have some effect on me.
I’m tired of holding this in. I don’t know what to do with it anymore, so, I’ve decided to give some of it away…
Memories at 40: Not long ago, I was asked to speak at an engagement. I walked in and I was told that they had assigned a person to take care of me while I was there. She walked up to me, all of 5’2” of her, and asked if I needed anything. I looked at her and started to sweat. It took me back thirty-something years to her apartment. I couldn’t have been more than 10 years old when I went over to play with her son and Matchbox cars. She opened the door in skimpy lingerie. There was a man sitting on the couch, smoking. She told me that her son was in the bedroom. I was there playing with him about 20 minutes when I heard the man arguing with her. He said he was leaving and slammed the door. She came into the bedroom and told me that I had to go home. She told her son to take a bath and she locked him in the bathroom. I was at the front door trying to get out, when she came in and laid on the sofa and asked me if I wanted the key. I told her I had to go home as it was getting dark. She put the key inside of herself and told me to come get it, pulling me on top of her.
Memories at 40: “What the f*#K are you reading books for?! That’s bull*#*T!”
“You F*#*ing jackass! You got book sense but you ain’t got no mothaf*#*en common sense! You ain’t sh*t and ain’t never gonna be sh*t!” I heard this every day of my childhood. As my father would beat and belittle me, he played all kinds of mind games with me. He knew I loved cookies as a kid, most kids do. So he would buy them and put them on top of the fridge and when I would eat them he would beat me mercilessly.
My mother was out one night, as she loved to play bingo, and my father came home…mad at the world. He was drunk, as he was most of the time. He got the vacuum cleaner extension cord and trapped me in a room and beat me until the skin was coming off my back. To this day, I don’t know what would make a person do something like that to a child. But thank God that in my mind, I left. I didn’t feel it anymore, just like in PRECIOUS. How this girl would leave in her mind. I learned to use my gift, as it was my imagination that let me escape. After he was done with his rant he passed out. Since my aunt lived two doors down, I ran to her. She saw me and was horrified. She loaded her 357 and went to kill him. Holding a gun to his head, her husband came and stopped her.
Memories at 40: I got a call not long ago from a friend. He told me that a man that I knew from church when I was a kid had died and he didn’t have any insurance. His family was trying to reach out to me to see if I would pay for his funeral. I quickly said no, but I wish I would have said yes. There is something so powerful to me in burying the man that molested me. I wish I would have dug the grave myself.
Memories at 40: I was about 8 or 9 years old. I had a crush on a little girl across the street. She would come over to my house and we’d play. She was about 12 or 13. One day she stopped coming and when I asked her why, she told me that my father was touching her. I didn’t believe her, so I talked her into staying one night. We were both asleep — she was in one bed and I was in another. I opened my eyes to see my father trying to touch her and her pushing him away. I moved in my bed trying to make him think I was waking up. He looked over at me and left out of the room. Not long after that, he beat me mercilessly for something again. Another mind game set up, so I told my mother what he had done. The blood drained from her face. We left that day. We were at my Aunt’s house and he came there about 1am. Not long after that we were back at home. Nothing would compare to the random, drunken, violent beatings I would receive from then until I was 19.
Memories at 40: We would spend the summers in the country, with my father’s adoptive mother. As a kid I was always sick. I had asthma and he hated it. He hated that I wasn’t strong and virile like him. He hated that I couldn’t be in the sawdust, pollen and the raw lumber like him. He hated that I liked to read and write and draw. He hated that me and my middle sister were darker-skinned than him. He didn’t think he could make a dark baby. He just hated everything about me I guess. Anyway, I had to go to the doctor every Tuesday to get shots to control my allergies. When his mother found out she said, “Ain’t nothing wrong with that damn boy…he just got germs on him. Stop wasting all that money.” When my mother left to visit some friends I heard what sounded like water running in a tub but it was sporadic. She came and got me out of the living room leaving my Matchbox cars on the floor. She said she was going to kill these germs on me once and for all. She gave me a bath in ammonia.
Grateful at 40: I was asked recently how I made it through all of this, (half has not even been told) and my answer to that is…I know for a fact that there is a GOD. When my father would say or do those things to me, I would hear this voice inside of me say, “That’s not true” or, “Don’t believe that” or, “You’re going to make it through this”. I didn’t know at the time what “it” was, but today I surely have no doubt that “it” was GOD. That voice always gave me comfort. It allowed me to hold on. It kept me from being strung out on drugs, from dying when I wanted to commit suicide. It kept me from being a gang banger or drug dealer. Worse than all of those things put together, it kept me from being him. It brought angels to comfort me after every foul, harsh word or every welt on my legs or back. GOD, only GOD.
To know that the little boy that I was went through all that — he went through and made it. Then me, as a man…I have to take on the responsibility of forgiving all of those people. I owe it to that little boy that I was and, more than that, I owe it to the man that I am. Think about it, as a child we have no recourse. We have nowhere to go. We have to endure it. But as adults, we have choices. I choose to forgive with all my might. Forgiveness has been my weapon of choice. It has helped to free me.
If you’re having a hard time getting over something in your life, maybe you can try forgiveness too. It’s not easy, but it does bring forth healing. I know that there are a lot of people out there with stories far worse than mine but you, too, can make it. To those of you who have, welcome to life. I celebrate you. We’re all PRECIOUS in His sight.
Tyler Perry
Posted 11 months, 1 week ago at 12:00 PM. Add a comment
“Why the fuck is (any Kardashian sister, Paris Hilton, random celebrity that stays in the news just for being alive) famous?!?!? Shit, I should be famous, then, if they are!!!”
Well, get famous!
Some people become known for having a great TV show. Some play sports. Some model. Some skillfully align themselves with other powerful people. All of these roads to fame and notoriety require a certain amount of dedication and hard work. So I can understand the frustration of some folks who feel that one of the aforementioned became known just for waking up in the morning.
So when a Paris Hilton comes into fame for just being herself, I feel this person deserves applause! I mean, look: if you became a famous, in-the-news figure for just living your life exactly as it is now, wouldn’t you soak it all up too? Would you turn down the appearance fees and VIP tables? Would you walk away from the TV show deals and magazine cover shoots? Would you shun the hot movie star actor/ actress who offered you their phone number on the red carpet? What better way to be beloved (or hated) by the general public than for being exactly who you are?
I started watching “Keeping Up With The Kardashians” only because I had head that the chick who had made a sex tape with Ray J was the main character, and that she was quite the eye candy. And that all turned out to be true. And I actually started to like the show after awhile; all of the family members have some appeal in their own way. Then the other two sisters got their own spin-off show and Khloe seems to be the public’s new target. I say more power to her.
The bottom line is this: The people who talk negatively about how the Paris Hiltons and Nicole Ritchies became “famous for doing nothing” don’t really resent that part of it; they just wish that it was them. But hey, look at the example of the Kardashians — keep living day to day, and it might be you, next on the E! Network.
So live ya’ life. A-heeey, A-heeey, A-heeey….
Posted 11 months, 1 week ago at 12:00 PM. Add a comment
At Penn State University, to receive a degree in Business at the Altoona campus, one must complete a 9-credit-hours internship at/ with a local business of some sort. When presented with this information at the onset of the Fall semester of my senior year, I felt a serious amount of trepidation. Since, as I stated, I was already dead-set on what I’d do with my life, putting on slacks and a button-up shirt and reporting to sit at some desk for 20-45 hours per week was NOT in my plans, for any foreseen stretch of my life.
All the business-major seniors had to register for an actual internship class that actually met once per month. At the beginning, most of us were still finalizing where our internships would be. Later, the class served as the hub to report on internship progress or lack thereof. A Mrs. Cynthia Wood was in charge of the business internship program, and she was one of a few great professors I came across at Altoona. Great because Mrs. Wood actually taught from real-life perspective; that is, she always communicated to us how things would be going once we were OUT OF college, not juts simply feeding us (essentially useless) information as many college professors do.
The wonderful Mrs. Wood, far left.
Luckily, Mrs. Wood acted on my inertia and suggested for me to do an internship that had never been done before: helping a Mr. Sky — Phil Sky – to promote certain business projects he had dipped into. Phil Sky is a legend of sorts in Altoona, I guess. He’s involved in several businesses — real estate, food distribution, campaign contributions, to name a few — and he is the man whose name comprises one-half of PSU-Altoona’s beloved Port-Sky Cafe.
When I met Phil Sky, he explained to me the 3 projects he was working on, one o which I was to tackle as his intern. But I only remember one, vaguely: He was working on some way to promote some product that had something to do with George W. Bush’s No Child Left Behind Act (Side note: Carol Mosely Braun was a guest speaker at Altoona that year and poked fun at the Bush administration by derisively calling it “No Child’s Behind Left”). Anywho, my assignment was to take the product Mr. Sky had and call the education departments of newspapers all over the country, to try and get them to pick up the story and get the product some attention, blah, blah, blah.
(I was really concerned, in writing this, if my apathy for higher education would show through. Let me know if I can do better.)
Thing was, Phil Sky had not done any promotion of said education product before I came along to be his first ever intern, so my work had no standard to live up to. Good news for Dre Baldwin, bad news for Dre’s employer and the PSU-Altoona business internship program.
What I DID do: call about 50 newspapers all over the USA and even get several interested enough to request materials to be mailed out to them.
What I DID NOT do: much more work past than the above stated for the rest of the Spring semester 2004. I worked hard making call after call for about a solid week from the comfort of my apartment. From then on, I basically enjoyed my final months of being a college student and all that position entailed.
As the semester went on, our internship class with Mrs. Wood met weekly and we turned in progress reports on the “real life business experience” we were getting. We also all had to do 20-minute presentations to a board of professors at the end of the semester on our experience. The progress reports and presentation was the easy part for me: I love public speaking and being that Mrs. Wood and Mr. Sky had been the ones pushing me to do this internship, there wasn’t much ball-breaking either could do to confront the fact that I was obviously doing about 25% of the work the other graduating seniors were doing. This was painfully evident during my semester-ending presentation: the outside professors who were asked to sit in and ask questions and help in the grading of the presentations could see that I had basically made no progress and done not much work; Mrs. Wood and Mr. Sky, however, their own reputations on the line, deflected a bevy of tough questions that came my way during the Q&A.
Paradoxically, my roommate, B, was also a senior in the Business major, so he had an internship at the some time as I. B worked in some office somewhere in Altoona that had a business causal dress code and required him to report to work at 8 AM 5 days per week. So while I was in my room sleeping off the previous nights’ Banker’s Club vodka, Madden marathons and rampant debauchery, B was diligently going to work from what might as well have been a 9 to 5 Monday thru Friday. So even though we were roommates, we became like a married couple that works opposite shifts: hardly ever both awake, with free time, simultaneously.
I have to speak on the power of setting one’s mind to a certain ideal and how much it actually comes to fruition if you really concentrate on it. I really did not want to even do an internship, and knowing I had to, I wanted to find one that would require the least amount of effort. And whaddayaknow, I got it. This pattern has played out countless times in my life (the concentration on what I really want, not the lack of effort thing), and if you’ve never tried it, you should.
I gotta hand it to B, though: He played the hand he was dealt, just as I did and would have had I been the one that had to actually work for my 9 credit-hours of internship. Hell, it was a business degree requirement and not graduating was not an option.
Actually, I’m lying. If I had ended up with some tough “Real-Job” internship, I would’ve worked very hard… to circumvent the system and make it work for the level of commitment I had to towards internship in general, which was relatively low. Yeah, that sounds about right.
Posted 11 months, 1 week ago at 12:00 PM. Add a comment
A few (and I really mean a few) of my favorite photos, out of hundreds from my dude B Battles’ wedding. The rest that I post can be found here (in case you didn’t know, posting tons of photos on a web page really slows down the site navigation, not to mention each individual’s computer when viewing). I’m sure a lot more photos will be popping up in other places, if you know where to look.
This is a review from my Favorite Books list; the link from which will be also on the Books Page.
***
“Focus: The sharper it is, the sharper you are.”
John C. Maxwell has written several books on leadership, all of which are either on my already- or need-to-read list. All of the ones I have seen have been excellent, go-back-to reads that I reference later, and this one is no exception. The title says it all.
Aight, so GoDaddy.com did some unexpected server changes that fucked up my site for about 60 hours this week, thus DreAllDay has been inaccessible for the last 2 days and my first week stats are all fucked up, being that no one could visit the site. I got on the phone with the GoDaddy support staff yesterday and got that all cleared up, though, along with a new IP address. They always do great customer service there.
In other news, I’ve been completing a move of my own this week and still have a place full of boxes to be unpacked. More importantly, we are on our way to Pittsburgh this weekend for the wedding of my main man and college roommate B Battles. B is not on Twitter or MySpace; actually he is pretty quiet on the Internet front. He was Team MVP my last 2 years at Altoona and he owned the PS2 that I dominated Madden on back in 2003-04. Congrats ahead of time, my dude!
And I have come up with my theme for the upcoming basketball season: Kick In The Door! I have had tremendous success in the game and there are still barriers to entry to other places I want to get to via bball. So I’m done knocking and ringing doorbells. I’ma have to force my way in. More on this later. Here are Some new photos (the smile or the mean-mug???):
We have an active photos link now. It will go directly to my Flickr profile page. I’m constantly uploading new things to it so stay tuned. I’ll eventually get around to tagging and describing every. Single. Shot. Yes I will. Enjoy, y’all.
