Beneath the Spin*Eric L. Wattree
EXCELLENCE IS THE KEY TO BLACK EQUALITY
I wrote this several months ago. It was meant to be the first chapter of a book. But since that time my plans about the book have changed somewhat, but I decided to publish it to my blog nevertheless, because it chronicles my life, and my blog is a repository of my journey through life.
THE WATTREE-JACKSONS
It seems like only yesterday when I was standing around campus trying to be cool at John C. Fremont High School in South Central Los Angeles. Back then it seemed like I had a thousand years lying before me, and my head was filled with all the great things I was going to accomplish in life. There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to be the next John Coltrane, but little did I know that within weeks I was going to meet a young girl who had her own ideas, and she would change my life forever.
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That young girl's name was Valdie Lavern Whitmore, and she was the niece of one of my mother's best friends, and her uncle was Big Joe Langford, a well known hustler and good friend of my father, who was a well know hustler in his own regard.
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But my mother had nothing to do with the street life, and she was no longer with my father. When my father had been arrested many years before and sent away to prison, his friends got together and got her a job as a greeter at Dynamite Jackson's, one of the premier jazz clubs in Los Angeles, and they also financed her going to college to become a nurse. After she graduated she met a young doctor by the name by Morris P. Atkins. Together they started practicing medicine out of a house at first, and and their practice thrived, so they built and they opened the 55th Street Medical Center, and that's where I met Val.
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The Clinic became a sort of family affair. Everyone who worked there, from the doctors, nurses, and pharmacist, to the medical technicians, were all good friends or had family connections. They not only worked together, but they socialized together away from work. Val's aunt, Ann Langford, was my mother's good friend, so my mother hired Val at the tender age of 14 years old to send out Christmas cards to the patients. And that was no small feat, because the clinic was adjacent to the Pueblo Del Rio Housing Project, one of the largest projects in Los Angeles, and everybody in it was a patient at one time or another.
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My father was my hero. He was a lifelong drug dealer, and many of the hustlers worked for him, so he was looked up to and respected, and that placed me in a very good position as a young street urchin. It paved the way for me to gain entrance into their world at a very early age. But that was a problem for my mother. She was working hard to change my ways, but she had reluctantly accepted the fact that I was just my father's son.
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So I used to routinely come into the office and stick her and Doctor Atkins up for money to support my vices. Sometimes she would resist, but Dr. Atkins and the pharmacist, Tatum, was always good for five or ten dollars. But one day when I walked into the office I saw a unfamiliar butt staring out at me as this perfectly endowed lady was bent over into the files. So I cleared my throat to get her attention.
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When the lady turned around, I was shocked to see that she had the face of a child, but a very serious child. We introduced ourselves, and while my taste in women ran to women who were two to four years older than myself, I immediately knew that we were, at the very least, going to be very good friends. Because Val has always been the type of person who was very honest in expressing her emotion. So just through looking into her eyes, I could almost feel what she was thinking, and the smile in her eyes made me feel a significance that I had never felt before. But what I didn't know was, when I walked through the door of that office, my life would change forever.
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I really liked Val, and I was looking forward to getting to know her better. But because she was so young, and a friend of the family, I was only thinking in turns of friendship. I knew that even if I was thinking in romantic terms, our families would go crazy at just the thought of a sweet and innocent girl like Val getting involved with a hood rat like me. But Val obviously saw things differently, because that very same night she gave me a call. I couldn't believe it - and I also couldn't believe how confident and mature she was. By the time we got off the phone it became very clear to me that she was innocent, but she not only had the body of a full grown woman, she had the mind of one as well. But still . . .
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When you’re young you live from day to day, so life seems to creep by. But once you become an adult you live from bill to bill, or month to month, so years go by like days. So now I look up and my hair has turned gray, and all those I depended on to sustain my life are long gone. Now I’m the one looked up to for guidance in the lives of others, and it’s an awesome responsibility. But I’m pleasantly surprised to find the relish and ease in which I embrace my task.
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Now this formerly reckless teen find myself with a great grandbaby, and as they say, the beat goes on. I am so proud of how my daughter, son, and all of my five grandchildren have turned out that I even grin in my sleep, and now, I have someone else to live for. My grandson, Byron, has just presented me with a great granddaughter, Aubrey, and the entire family is so thrilled that we can barely contain ourselves. My daughter had a portrait made of her to hang on the family wall, and sometimes I get up in the middle of the night just to look at her. She looks like the spitting image of her great grandmother, my late wife, Val.
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I’m hoping to live long enough to see what she reveals about the character of our bloodline, and since we strive to make every generation superior to the one that preceded it, I want to live to see what great things she's destined to accomplish.
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We take our babies very seriously. There are no deadbeat dads in this family, so Aubrey is always in my grandson’s arms. Byron’s a young man, but he was raised to be a father, so he’s all over this. So, Aubrey's a very lucky child, because she was born to be royalty, to be our little princess.
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Life seems to be working out perfectly, just like it always has for us. For some reason, it seems like we’ve always been blessed. In spite of the fact the me and Val got married very young in life – Val 19, and me 21 years old – when our children were born, we, or they, never wanted for a thing. It was like a fairytale where me and Val were playing house, and we enjoyed every second of raising our kids - I cut all my road dawgs loose. Now it seems that life is smiling upon Aubrey as well.
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SOLITUDE |
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But when Val presented me with my daughter and then son, everything changed for me. They gave me a reason to come out of my shell, educate myself, and change my life, because when I held my daughter, I realized my life was no longer mine. It was hers, and a year and 9 months later, my son's. I wanted to give them the kind of life I'd missed. Because as my mother used to say, I was never a child. She said that she would try to hug and kiss me, and I would squirm out of her arms and act like I wanted to wipe my face. I loved my mother passionately, but I was never comfortable with overt displays of affection - until now.
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Me, Val and the kids became like four road dawgs, and I just loved hangin’ out and doing everything with them – from running the street and going to the mall, the Marina, the beach, and the show, to playing video games at home. Every Saturday morning, we were up and at it until late Sunday night, when we collapsed exhausted in bed.
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We spoiled them rotten, but now, it seems, it’s my turn to be spoiled, and I'm loving it so much that I'm feeling guilty. After my wife passed in 2005, my daughter had my neighbor across the street keeping an eye on me, so when my neighbor told her that I didn’t seem to be doing very well, she came and scooped me up to come live with her. I had mixed emotions about it at first, but it didn’t take me long at all to get used to being spoiled. She’s set me up where I don’t have to do anything but the things I love doing – following the news, writing about it, and interfering in my adult grandkids’ lives. And believe me, I’m all up in it.
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I’m beginning to believe that my coming down sick happened for a reason. Now, we’re going to renovate my home for Aubrey, her mom, dad, uncles and aunt. That way they don’t have to pay the high-ass rent these landlords are bilking young people out of these days. My grandson and Amaya are paying over $2000 a month. But we’re gonna bring that to an end.
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I have a 3-bedroom home with a big backyard. So, we’re going to have the grandkids move in there. We’re also discussing adding 3 units in the backyard, so it can become a sort of family compound for all of my grandkids as they need it. Then, as they prosper, they can do the same thing for the rest of the family. That will allow Aubrey to grow up surrounded by an entire generation of Wattree-Jacksons - and since they won't have to pay anyone rent, they'll have all the money in the world to spoil her rotten.
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Our family's dues have already been paid by me and their grandmother, so there's no reason for the coming generation to ever have to want for a thing. That's the way it's done. The entire family can combine our resources and prosper together. And that allows me to just sit back, be spoiled, and only have to focus on what I enjoy doing.
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It makes perfect sense. Why should my family have to struggle until I die to divide up what I've left behind? And why should I have to continue to focus on business instead of just enjoying what's left of my life? They should be able to take advantage of those assets now, while they're young and can use them, and I should be able to kick back and not have to think about anything but what's for dinner. And besides, I’ve become much too nonchalant about money anyway.
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My daughter went through the house and found thousands of dollars in uncashed checks that I set aside to be cashed and then forgot about. She had a fit. But procrastination has always been one of my most severe shortcomings. With me, anything that can be put off until tomorrow, will be – and unfortunately, that includes depositing checks.
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So maybe it’s time for me to just kick back and focus on writing and interfering in my babies’ lives, and letting Kai handle the finances. Because I don’t care enough about money. As long as when I go to the ATM money comes out, I don’t care about how much I have. For me, life is about being happy, and I’ve long since discovered that money doesn’t have a thing to do with that. Who do you think is happier, Donald Trump or Barack Obama? Barack Obama, of course. Obama is enjoying life, while Trump is mad at the world. That says it all. But while Kai understands all that, she also understands the value of money.
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So yeah, the beat goes on. I wonder what will I do today? Maybe I’ll draw up a plan to groom Aubrey to become a senator. Lol! I'm just kidding . . . sorta.
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Eric L. Wattree
Http://wattree.blogspot.com
Ewattree@Gmail.com
Citizens Against Reckless Middle-Class Abuse (CARMA)
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Religious bigotry: It's not that I hate everyone who doesn't look, think, and act like me - it's just that God does.