Who's Your +1?

So as I was cruising the blogs at 6a, getting geared up for my study day, I came across this video by Q from 112. Now you know, my last article had me pissed about my inability to make a “Slow Grind 2011” mix. Welp, although I don’t have a full 17 tracks, I believe that this song DEFINITELY makes the cut.

The Dream wrote this song, and it is on Beyonce’s “4” album. However, without being blasphemous to all things Beyonce (I am a SUPER fan), I have to admit that Q done sang THE HELL outta this song. I don't know if Beyonce's version would make the slow grind mix. Mind you he’s doing this LIVE for the video because he’s in the studio. What happened to men that can sing like this? What are your thoughts?

Q's Version




Beyonce's Version




The first verse is:

If I ain’t got nothing, I got you

If I ain’t got something I don't give a damn, cause I got it with you

I don't know much about algebra, but I know one plus one equals two

And it's me and you, that’s all we'll have when the world is thru


Who makes your 1+1 = 2?

Slow Grind

-->

So I think I’m starting to feel like my parents. A true sign that I’m getting not just regular old, but real OLD. Since my wedding anniversary is coming up, I decided that I wanted to take it back to our earlier years and make Julius one of those “slow grind” mixes!

DISCLAIMER** If you are under the age of 21 (90s baby), you won’t know what I’m talking about so don’t read ANY FURTHER (this is grown folk talk).

When we were young, we would listen to the radio and record the songs onto a cassette, and then later try to blank out the commercials (remember that?!). As we got older, we started burning the songs onto CDs. Now…what the hell am I supposed to do? Send him the song list in an email? Where’s the fun in that? The whole point of the CD was to put on the craziest, sexiest, love inspiring songs that you knew, and get excited about not knowing what the next track was going to be when you were in the groove (iPods spoil all the fun). Now, although I’m pissed about this cramp in my old school style, that really isn’t the point of this post.

As I started going through my iTunes repertoire I got downright disappointed. I wanted to put some “new” school songs on my slow grind CD, but soon realized that there wasn’t anything really (post 2008) to put on there. I mean, yea sure, you’ve got “Invented Sex” by Trey Songz and “Motivation” by Kelly Rowland, and those are suitable for the slow grind mix, but really, what else is there?

See, the slow grind mix is not a sex CD, it’s a lovemaking CD. While it will have, “Greatest Sex I Ever Had” by R. Kellly (the king of the slow grind) and “Red Light Special” by TLC…it will also have “My First Love” by Avant and “Let’s Get Married” by Jagged Edge. It is a subtle mixture of all things sexy in a relationship.

-->

What our parents were pissed about was that all of our songs were about sex. Quite frankly, as I got older, I realized that theirs were too! Difference being, our generation was more explicit whereas the artists in their generation were more subtle (i.e., “Let’s Get it On” versus “Invented Sex”). So don’t think Ron Isley, Gerald Levert, and Teddy P. didn’t make it to the mix too! I won’t say whose was better. But I will say that these youngins out here have no idea. They have NO clue who Boyz II Men is! They will never know what it means to have a verse where you just TALK to emphasize your point. Remember when deep sexy voice dude from Boyz II Men talked for a WHOLE verse on “End of the Road”. We knew he couldn’t sing; he was just in the group to TALK!! Who’s talking now?

This new generation will never write a “4 Page Letter,” understand what a “Faded Picture” is, know what kind of song will have them “Speechless.” I mean really, who is going give them their slow grind mixes…Willow Smith? It’s kinda disheartening.

Yes, I’m disappointed, but I guess for my 2011 “slow grind” mix, I’ll just take it back to the good ole days. Julius is probably yearning for something to tickle his memories anyway. Therefore, Julius, I will “Cater 2 U” “Slowly”, “Make it Last Forever” because quite frankly, “I’m going down, cause you ain’t around.”

I'm Riding Shotgun

We’ve been gone for a minute, but we’re back! We’ve gone through a lot in the past few months, but we plan to bring you up to speed shortly. Thanks for continuing to read Young, Black, and Married!

I’m Riding Shotgun….

God’s in the driver’s seat.

Let me start off by saying that I don’t have a reason in the world to complain, and it’s not because I’m coming out on top. Rachel and I are 2,253 miles apart, and will be for the next 10 weeks. At the present moment I’m homeless, jobless, and the most important person in the world to me is thousands of miles away. Some may scream out, “Why me, oh Lord, why me??!!”, and I’m not going to front like it didn’t cross my mind, but this is God’s plan. If it were up to me, I’d already be working at a major studio in Los Angeles with a nice salary, nice crib, and a wife living in the same city as me. And that’s not to say this won’t happen. It’s just not going to happen right now, and I’m moving into a space where I’m okay with that. Why? Because God has been blessing me my whole life and there’s no reason that this period of my life will be any different. I’d love to boast and brag on Facebook about how I’m killing the game in LA (and still might when the time’s right), but the more important lesson I’m learning right now is to be patient and wait on the Lord.

So before you paint a grim picture of my life, allow me to explain. Everything Rachel and I do is calculated. She’s currently in Athens, GA living with my family while she studies for the Georgia Bar. Since I’m considered her #1 distraction, we thought it best to have her study there while I do the Cali thing. And what does this cost us??? Not a damn thing! Free living while she guarantees me she’ll pass the bar….Winning!

As for me, I didn’t just jump out to Los Angeles blindly. My oldest brother lives in LA and has been doing his thing in Hollywood for over 15 years now. I made arrangements to live with him months ago while I land a job and crib for Rachel after she completes the bar. This is on top of the fact that I had an interview lined up with Warner Bros. prior to coming out to LA. I live in his garage (which is more like a fully furnished studio apartment with a 50” plasma on the wall) and come and go as I please. Since Rachel has the Jeep in GA with her, I had to rent a car. No sweat. So all I’m spending is $140 a week plus food here and there, because his wife cooks basically every night! So it’s all good, then I get thrown a curve ball….

I’m able to get the interview with Warner Bros. off the strength of who my brother is. I crush the interview off the strength of who I am, and I’m asked to come back for second rounds. I crush both of those interviews and now I’m just waiting on the offer letter. Now truth be told, the position I’m applying for is cool, but not exactly what I was looking for. The pay is decent (not Beemer, Benz, or Bentley), and the work is just okay at best. What I realized is that I was going so hard just because I felt like I “needed” a job ASAP and it was in the industry that I’ve been wanting to get into. The issue was that I fell back into my old routine of settling instead of waiting to receive the blessings that God has in store for me. Well, good thing God prefers his plan over mine.

The irony of the situation is that the same person (my brother) that got me the interview is the same reason I can’t be considered for the job. Long and short, that particular position would have allowed me access to my brother’s company’s financial statements, which then would have created a conflict of interest between Warner Bros., myself, and my Brother’s company. Who in the hell saw that coming??? Not me. Not my brother. Not Warner Bros. (until yesterday), and I interviewed with them over a week and a half ago! I all but had the job in my hands, but I guess I never really did in the end. While they would have loved to have me and I would have killed in the position, I can’t say I would have been all that happy. Good thing for me, I have God’s favor, and he clearly wants more for me than I want for myself.

So I’m not technically homeless, but I am jobless and my wife IS thousands of miles away and will be for weeks to come. Even still, it’s easy for me to wake up in the morning smiling because I’m blessed to be a child of God. I serve an amazing God who never has and never will leave me. I gotta run – back to the grind.

Be Blessed!!

Julius

TIRED!!

We’re TIRED! Not just regular tired, but exhausted, disgusted, and overwhelmed. In our 2^nd year of marriage, we find ourselves being tested on a daily basis. Having been together for 8 years, we have had a number of trials and tribulations in our relationship, but we find ourselves in an interesting season right now.

It has been 33 days since we posted ANYTHING on Young, Black, and Married (YBM) and longer than that since we wrote anything. We have become so consumed with our daily lives that YBM has fallen to the wayside as a result. So instead of ignoring YBM, we have to remember the purpose of YBM, so we decided to allow our current state to be a learning opportunity.

For the past two years, Julius and I have both been in graduate school. I am obtaining my law degree, and Julius is obtaining his MBA. In an effort to offset the cost of school, we decided to be graduate assistants. The idea was superb, the execution not so much. Currently, we live in an approximately 200 sq foot dorm room with undergraduate students. While it has been a blessing to have our housing and tuition paid for, living in this small space is more than a notion.

We have NO kitchen, as in NONE. We have cooked fish and chicken in a toaster oven; made gumbo, jambalaya, and stir-fry on an electric eye; and we find ourselves literally warn out. As a person who is trying to lose weight, but has to cook everything on a bed frame that has been converted into a kitchen counter, I’m TIRED!

We’re tired of having ZERO space to do any workout tapes, or have any privacy after an argument. Julius is tired of having to climb over the bed to get to his closet. I’m tired of setting shoes on top of other shoes, and jamming my drawers and closet to capacity.

We’re beyond tired of being in school, being broke, and being on-call 24/7 for our jobs. We’re tired of being over-active on campus, and underappreciated as a result. We’re tired of being jobless, and worrying about the next move because we have unorthodox views of our professional careers. At the end of the day, we’re tired of being tired.

The only thing we’re not tired of is each other. Don’t get it twisted, the stress of school, work, and our living space has taken a toll on our relationship. We have taken the stress of these outside factors out on one another. We have also misplaced our anger, exhaustion, and stress on one another. But the most important thing and sometimes one of the most difficult, is recognizing that it is NOT your mate that is the reason for the stress.

I have had to do some HEAVY self-reflection over the past couple months about my attitude. Is it a result of my relationship with Julius, OR is it because I over extended myself as the President of three organizations, being a Graduate Assistant, and deciding to take on an internship where I work 25 hours a week, IN ADDITION to being a full-time student? I would say the latter.

It is easy enough to say that your marriage or your relationship is the priority in your life…but is it? Is Julius the reason that I am soooo tired? Am I the reason that he is soooo tired? Maybe, but it’s probably not the case. We’re learning, as we continue to grow together, that we will ALWAYS have a lot going on. If it’s school and work now, it will be kids and work later. We find ourselves MAKING time for each other. Please trust, understand, and believe, it’s easier said than done. However, I have to make time for him, because when I’m away from him…I miss him…and missing him won’t make my day any better, or my attitude for that matter. The bottom line is, that even on my worst days, he has the ability to make me smile, feel a little less stressed, and appreciated when no one else does. Having a partner (and especially Julius as a partner) is actually one of the greatest reasons it’s awesome to be Young, Black, and Married. So it is my duty as his wife to ensure that I can be that person for him as well.

The point is, there will always be busy seasons. How you handle those busy seasons will say a lot about the longevity of your relationship. No matter what has come my way, everyone knows that Julius is my first priority. I have had to make some tough decisions regarding work and school because of my dedication to him. However, when I said that I would forsake all others for him, I meant it. When he needs me, I’m there…period.

But right now, we’re just tired together.

Why You're Not Married

So because I have writer's block. I am letting someone else write for me. This was on the Huffington Post. Here's the link, http://www.huffingtonpost.com/tracy-mcmillan/why-youre-not-married_b_822088.html

I don't know ladies, I tend to agree with her. I can't wait to hear the comments on this one.

You want to get married. It's taken a while to admit it. Saying it out loud -- even in your mind -- feels kind of desperate, kind of unfeminist, kind of definitely not you, or at least not any you that you recognize. Because you're hardly like those girls on TLC saying yes to the dress and you would never compete for a man like those poor actress-wannabes on The Bachelor.

You've never dreamt of an aqua-blue ring box.

Then, something happened. Another birthday, maybe. A breakup. Your brother's wedding. His wife-elect asked you to be a bridesmaid, and suddenly there you were, wondering how in hell you came to be 36-years-old, walking down the aisle wearing something halfway decent from J. Crew that you could totally repurpose with a cute pair of boots and a jean jacket. You started to hate the bride -- she was so effing happy -- and for the first time ever you began to have feelings about the fact that you're not married. You never really cared that much before. But suddenly (it was so sudden) you found yourself wondering... Deep, deep breath... Why you're not married.

Well, I know why.

How? It basically comes down to this: I've been married three times. Yes, three. To a very nice MBA at 19; a very nice minister's son at 32 (and pregnant); and at 40, to a very nice liar and cheater who was just like my dad, if my dad had gone to Harvard instead of doing multiple stints in federal prison.

I was, for some reason, born knowing how to get married. Growing up in foster care is a big part of it. The need for security made me look for very specific traits in the men I dated -- traits it turns out lead to marriage a surprisingly high percentage of the time. Without really trying to, I've become a sort of jailhouse lawyer of relationships -- someone who's had to do so much work on her own case that I can now help you with yours.

But I won't lie. The problem is not men, it's you. Sure, there are lame men out there, but they're not really standing in your way. Because the fact is -- if whatever you're doing right now was going to get you married, you'd already have a ring on it. So without further ado, let's look at the top six reasons why you're not married.

1. You're a Bitch. Here's what I mean by bitch. I mean you're angry. You probably don't think you're angry. You think you're super smart, or if you've been to a lot of therapy, that you're setting boundaries. But the truth is you're pissed. At your mom. At the military-industrial complex. At Sarah Palin. And it's scaring men off.

The deal is: most men just want to marry someone who is nice to them. I am the mother of a 13-year-old boy, which is like living with the single-cell protozoa version of a husband. Here's what my son wants out of life: macaroni and cheese, a video game, and Kim Kardashian. Have you ever seen Kim Kardashian angry? I didn't think so. You've seen Kim Kardashian smile, wiggle, and make a sex tape. Female anger terrifies men. I know it seems unfair that you have to work around a man's fear and insecurity in order to get married -- but actually, it's perfect, since working around a man's fear and insecurity is big part of what you'll be doing as a wife.

2. You're Shallow. When it comes to choosing a husband, only one thing really, truly matters: character. So it stands to reason that a man's character should be at the top of the list of things you are looking for, right? But if you're not married, I already know it isn't. Because if you were looking for a man of character, you would have found one by now. Men of character are, by definition, willing to commit.

Instead, you are looking for someone tall. Or rich. Or someone who knows what an Eames chair is. Unfortunately, this is not the thinking of a wife. This is the thinking of a teenaged girl. And men of character do not want to marry teenaged girls. Because teenage girls are never happy. And they never feel like cooking, either.

3. You're a Slut. Hooking up with some guy in a hot tub on a rooftop is fine for the ladies of Jersey Shore -- but they're not trying to get married. You are. Which means, unfortunately, that if you're having sex outside committed relationships, you will have to stop. Why? Because past a certain age, casual sex is like recreational heroin -- it doesn't stay recreational for long.

That's due in part to this thing called oxytocin -- a bonding hormone that is released when a woman a) nurses her baby and b) has an orgasm -- that will totally mess up your casual-sex game. It's why you can be f**k-buddying with some dude who isn't even all that great and the next thing you know, you're totally strung out on him. And you have no idea how it happened. Oxytocin, that's how it happened. And since nature can't discriminate between marriage material and Charlie Sheen, you're going to have to start being way more selective than you are right now.

4. You're a Liar. It usually goes something like this: you meet a guy who is cute and likes you, but he's not really available for a relationship. He has some condition that absolutely precludes his availability, like he's married, or he gets around town on a skateboard. Or maybe he just comes right out and says something cryptic and open to interpretation like, "I'm not really available for a relationship right now."

You know if you tell him the truth -- that you're ready for marriage -- he will stop calling. Usually that day. And you don't want that. So you just tell him how perfect this is because you only want to have sex for fun! You love having fun sex! And you don't want to get in a relationship at all! You swear! About ten minutes later, the oxytocin kicks in. You start wanting more. But you don't tell him that. That's your secret -- just between you and 22,000 of your closest girlfriends. Instead, you hang around, having sex with him, waiting for him to figure out that he can't live without you. I have news: he will never "figure" this out. He already knows he can live without you just fine. And so do you. Or you wouldn't be lying to him in the first place.

5. You're Selfish. If you're not married, chances are you think a lot about you. You think about your thighs, your outfits, your naso-labial folds. You think about your career, or if you don't have one, you think about doing yoga teacher training. Sometimes you think about how marrying a wealthy guy -- or at least a guy with a really, really good job -- would solve all your problems. Howevs, a good wife, even a halfway decent one, does not spend most of her day thinking about herself. She has too much s**t to do, especially after having kids. This is why you see a lot of celebrity women getting husbands after they adopt. The kids put the woman on notice: Bitch, hello! It's not all about you anymore! After a year or two of thinking about someone other than herself, suddenly, Brad Pitt or Harrison Ford comes along and decides to significantly other her. Which is also to say -- if what you really want is a baby, go get you one. Your husband will be along shortly. Motherhood has a way of weeding out the lotharios.

6. You're Not Good Enough. Oh, I don't think that. You do. I can tell because you're not looking for a partner who is your equal. No, you want someone better than you are: better looking, better family, better job.

Here is what you need to know: You are enough right this minute. Period. Not understanding this is a major obstacle to getting married, since women who don't know their own worth make terrible wives. Why? You can fake it for a while, but ultimately you won't love your spouse any better than you love yourself. Smart men know this.

I see this at my son's artsy, progressive school. Of 183 kids, maybe six have moms who are as cute as you're trying to be. They're attractive, sure. They're just not objects. Their husbands (wisely) chose them for their character, not their cup size. Alright, so that's the bad news. The good news is that I believe every woman who wants to can find a great partner. You're just going to need to get rid of the idea that marriage will make you happy. It won't. Once the initial high wears off, you'll just be you, except with twice as much laundry.

Because ultimately, marriage is not about getting something -- it's about giving it. Strangely, men understand this more than we do. Probably because for them marriage involves sacrificing their most treasured possession -- a free-agent penis -- and for us, it's the culmination of a princess fantasy so universal, it built Disneyland.

The bottom line is that marriage is just a long-term opportunity to practice loving someone even when they don't deserve it. Because most of the time, your messy, farting, macaroni-and-cheese eating man will notbe doing what you want him to. But as you give him love anyway -- because you have made up your mind to transform yourself into a person who is practicing being kind, deep, virtuous, truthful, giving, and most of all, accepting of your own dear self -- you will find that you will experience the very thing you wanted all along:

Love.

Tracy McMillan is a TV writer whose credits include Mad Men and The United States of Tara. Her memoir I Love You and I'm Leaving You Anyway is now available in paperback from Harper Collins/It Books. She lives in Los Angeles with her 13-year-old son. Follow her on Twitter.

Truth Be Told

So the other night I found myself in a bad mood (as the old folk say, I threw a hissy fit). For the first time in our short-lived existence, Young, Black, and Married received some backlash. Now it wasn’t only what was said, but how it was said. One of my main reservations with writing a blog was misinterpretation. Depending on how you read or absorb content, it may be misconstrued. To talk specifics, I didn’t necessarily appreciate how some people (males in particular) took my baby’s article, “A Message to All the Single Fellas”. For those that didn’t miss the point, thanks for your lack of simpleness (won’t find that in Webster’s). We have, and always will, write based on our personal thoughts, feelings, and experiences (why the hell else would anybody write a blog). Maybe I’m being biased, but I had no idea that some readers (again, males) would take such offense to what was written. From that one article, some people got the impression that my baby is either some type of cold, heartless bitch, or that I’m some type of superficial dude that steam-rolls over Rachel’s ass whenever I feel like it. Not the case on either end. We do what works for us. Period. And believe it or not, we work WITH each other (as evidenced by this blog).

Now I’m all for great debates and different perspectives, but if your goal is knit-pick your way through an article, what value are you adding to the dialogue? We’ll use Teddy P. or T-Pain whenever we see fit. If they emphasize the point of our message, guess what, we’re using it. If our experience has been, “getting cussed out”, or “doing somebody wrong”, that’s our experience. We live and we learn. Maybe if somebody cussed you out, you might be a little further along in life. As I stated in my article, one size DOES NOT fit all, so do what works for you. If you don’t want to hear the truth, so be it. If you want someone to whisper sweet nothings in your ear all day, good luck finding her. If you already have her, more power to you. I grew up getting yelled at, cussed out, and beat (no, I wasn’t a slave – mommy and daddy loved me), and I’m not complaining. If it keeps me out of jail or the grave, I’m all ears! I’m off topic, but I had to get that off my chest. I got your back baby! You can be as crazy as you want with me.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand…In my infinite wisdom, I made the executive decision to write to the ladies, and Rachel write to the fellas. I felt (and still do feel) that it was important to understand the opposite sex’s perspective. I could critique the fellas all day, but it’s not me they’re after (no comment), and visa versa. What was more important was to understand what we see in ourselves that could use a second look. After all, at the end of the day we’re fighting black marriage statistics, not each other.

In looking at and listening to some of the comments that were made, I found myself second-guessing….MYSELF. I sat down wondering if I missed something. Then I realized, “Do you fools listen to music, or do you just skim through it?” (Jay-Z gives me a nugget from time-to-time). It’s a shame when the people who need it most miss the point. We (men) CAN be emotionally withdrawn. We DO have self-esteem issues, and we CAN be too prideful. The women in our lives see us for who we are, both good and bad. It’s better that they bring up our faults so we can get our game tight rather than navigating through the world looking ridiculous. Call it tough love.

Rachel and I talked it out, and a valid point that she and one of her colleagues brought up was that men in general (myself included) can be very sensitive at times. The minute someone points out our faults or short-comings, we either go on the attack, or try and dodge bullets like we’re Neo in the Matrix. Sometimes we just need to take it on the chin. No, I’m not an advocate for women talking to men any ole way they want, but I am of the opinion that we could stand to be a little less sensitive when women do “critique” us. Part of the problem is that we as men aren’t subject to the same type of scrutiny that women go through. They’ve heard for years that they need to dress a certain way, act a certain way, and look a certain way. Can’t say we’ve been held to the same standard, and therefore, taking criticism wasn’t (and isn’t) as natural for us. What I’ve learned over the years is that I’m better as a man, a leader, and a husband because of the criticism I’ve taken over the years. No, it wasn’t always packaged in a pretty box with a nice bow and ribbon attached, but that didn’t stop me from working on bettering myself. I’ll never forget being in high school and my mom telling me that, “No woman’s going to want to suck on your face with all that shit on it.” Were my feelings hurt? Yes!! Did I let her bust that acne on my face? Hell Yes!!! Why?? Because I looked 10 times better after she worked on my face. Had she never said anything, I would’ve walked around thinking it was all good when it really wasn’t.

If you don’t want to be better, keep on doing what you’re doing and see where it gets you. Yes, women can be abrasive at times, but don’t let that stop you from absorbing good information. Remember, they wouldn’t say it if they didn’t care, even though it may not feel that way at the time.

“The truth hurts, but you can’t be scared of it.” - Outkast

Far From Home for the Holidays

Getting back on the grind is bitter sweet. I’m ready to be done with school, but I don’t want any part of the work associated with it. I’ve only got one semester left, so I can’t really trip. Can’t stay on vacation forever.

Over the break, I was on top of the world. No work. No school. No nothing. Just me and the wife, doing what we do best; kickin’ it. Ever since Rachel and I have been together, we’ve always loved to travel. Difference was, in the past it was just the two of us. This time around, the in-laws were in the mix. Now before I get into how the trip went, a little background is necessary.

Mama bear was cool from the jump, as I’m sure most males can relate to, married or not. Moms don’t seem to go much further beyond the fact that their daughters are happy, and that the man (or men for those pimpin’) in their life is respectful and seems to do right by their daughter. Papa bears, on the other hand, are a little trickier. You get some that give you the cold shoulder, others with methods of intimidation, but if you’re lucky, you get the guy who welcomes you with open arms, knowing that you’re the right man for his little princess. Let’s just say that the first time the Reverend/Judge Cooper laid eyes on me, it wasn’t love at first sight (more like, “And who in the f&%k is this goofy lookin’ ni&&a?!”). And being both a Reverend and a Judge (where they do that at?), I couldn’t be certain that the law or the Lord would be on my side. This was the definition of being up shits creek without a paddle or a prayer.

So needless to say, Pops and I didn’t exactly hit it off from the jump. When we first met, I had flown to Pittsburgh to stay at his house so Rachel and I could spend some time together. Guess you can’t blame a father for not wanting some horny teenager staying in his home, waiting for the opportunity to pounce on his baby girl. But this dude was still more than I expected. So much so, that I literally didn’t know how to address this dude. SERIOUSLY. Intimidation is a beast. In the 6 years that I had known him leading up to the wedding, I’ve used his “name” to address him MAYBE 10 times. And when I say name, it was either, “Mr. Cooper, Judge Cooper, Reverend Cooper, Reverend Judge Mr. Kevin Cooper Sir” or some variation. But most times, I called him NOTHING. Be clear. I’m not what you would call, socially awkward. But with this guy, I couldn’t be sure how to act or speak. So what did I do?! I’d wait until we made eye contact, or he called my name, or whatever. Straight up. And Rachel didn’t help either. I’d ask her what I should call her father, and what was her retarded response, “Why don’t you ask him?” Now if I thought it was that damn easy, don’t you think I would have asked the man?! Some friend you are.

In looking back, what Rachel and I came to understand is that the relationships we’ve developed with each other’s family members stems more from our own individual relationships with our respective family members than how our families viewed each other’s counterparts. Now if you just read that last sentence and understood what the hell I just said, more power to you, cuz I sure as hell just confused myself! Let’s try it this way. Rachel and her father had a rocky relationship when I met her (a heads up would’ve been nice), so even though I didn’t necessarily do anything “wrong” when I met her father, I was guilty by association (I’m sure my niggerish tendencies didn’t help either).

Now I’m sure some of you are thinking that Papa Bear was just playing the protective role, and that’s partly true, but their pre-existing issues definitely hindered our bonding process. I’m also convinced that this guy has a touch of crazy in him. Dude has this crazy look about him sometimes, where his eyes get buck and he gets this crazy ass smirk on his face, on some Chucky from Child’s Play type madness (man I hope he never reads this).

Nevertheless, as Rachel and her father’s relationship got better over the years, he and I grew closer as well. We talked more, spent more time together, and learned a lot more about each other, which ultimately increased our respect for each other.

There’s drama in every family, so when you stand at that alter and take those vows, be prepared for more than just the person standing across from you. For better or worse includes family, so it’s best to work your problems out, versus sweeping them under the rug. It may have taken several years for Papa Bear to warm up to ya boy, but it’s all good now. Like Kanye said, “Slow motion is better than no motion”.

And yea, the cruise was amazing! It was more than I could have ever expected. There was zero drama. I chilled and joked with Mama Bear, while Papa Bear and I sipped Hennessey, smoked cigars, and shot the breeze like we’d been tight for the past 8 years.

Question is, since we’ve been married, what do I call Papa Bear now??? A year and a half later, I’m still trying to figure it out…..here we go again!