Congruent Transmissions

Thursday, February 24, 2011

A Percieved Notion Of Beauty By Idiots

A few weeks ago I worked security at an art gallery. Two of my co-workers were talking amongst themselves as an exotic looking Black lady walks by. She was thin, very dark, with tall leopard print boots and a colorful head wrap.

I was coming back from my break and my co-workers didn't see me walking up. When they both noticed me one stepped away trying to quiet his hystericcal laughter. The other maintained his composure as if he didn't say anything at all.

I saw them looking at the woman and they saw me looking at her. The laughing guy gave me the break sheet to sign back in. And that's when he chimed in with this gem, "Hey Steve, you're just like us. We're trying to figure out WHAT THE HELL THAT WAS?" He said it with a straight face too.

I thought she was beautiful and exotic. I wonder what they really thought of this African beauty. All I ask for is a little bit of PROFESSIONALISM in the fucking workplace! Is that too much to ask for? I don't think so.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Young And Blasphemous

I used to sing in the choir as a child because my mother made me. My sister and I didn't mind because it allowed us to have an extra day to hangout with our church friends at choir rehearsal on Saturdays. On Sundays we got to sit together in a group. This allowed us to crack jokes and laugh at the grown ups jumping around and convulsing in the holy spirit. However, the fun stops there. Forgive me "Lord" if this all sounds a bit disrespectful. I don't mean to be.
I lacked a certain amount of heart strung attachment to the songs we would sing. I won't directly say I never really believed in the lessons we were taught in the songs: I just didn't feel the songs themselves very much. The words to the song I disliked the most went like this: WERE YOU THERE WHEN THEY CRUCIFIED MY LORD (WERE YOU THERE).
"Were we there?"
I wouldn't say anything to the lady that taught us the song but I was so irritated. I would make my friend John laugh during rehearsal.
Under my breathe I would say,
"Hey lady I'm 11 years old. I barely remember where I was last week!"
"And why do you have us singing this sad song about death?"
"Hello, we're kids!"
"It's 1981, hell naw we weren't there!"
"Shoudn't we be singing songs like: THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE, I'M GONNA LET IT SHINE!"
"I think that's a little more age appropriate don't you think?"
Appropriateness of church songs really didn't matter much to me on a whole I suppose. I also had problems with a song we would sing in Sunday school as well. Editing the lyric of this one particular song would often satisfy my needs for laughter and attention. The word "SUNBEAM" would be exchanged for "ZOMBIE". Without fail I would kill at the end of every Sunday school session. The song now goes: A ZOMBIE... A ZOMBIE... JESUS WANTS ME FOR A ZOMBIE..... A ZOMBIE... A ZOMBIE... I'LL BE A ZOMBIE FOR HIM." I don't really believe Jesus wants me for a zombie.
I am singing a different song these days though. I think AC/DC said it best!