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Sex & The Single Preacher

I was that loner kid who read comics when everyone else was playing, listened to the B-sides and watched old movies ... Now I write about it


The Lord Is In This Holy Temple

It was hard to sit still as the choir marched in on a rocking version of the late great CLAY EVANS's What A Fellowship. I always enjoyed this song when I was growing up. Which was why I'd convinced the minister of music to learn the song and teach it to the choir. Because it really got your heart pumping, feet stomping and hands clapping. A great way to signal that it was Sunday morning, so lets have church.

Anyway, I had to jump up to the podium and put in my ad-libs as the choir sang. I was just feeling it like that. And I could feel my pops smiling as well. But then, why not? He'd finally convinced me --through his actions, not his words-- to become a part of the family business. Our church was now a father and son operation. Just like Fred and Lamont. Except, he wasn’t calling me Dummy every five minutes.

The only real problem was staring at me from the pews ... A nice sized congregation full of women. And as I felt their eyes on me, I couldn't help but to smile. Because in a church full of 250 (on an average Sunday) to 500 (on Christmas, Easter and Mother's Day), there were a bunch of fine sisters who wanted to be my future First Lady or my just my lady in general. And besides being a man of God who wanted to live according to the Word as much as possible ... I also had a young and impressionable daughter who was my heart, soul and inspiration.

Not only did I desire to be a good role model to her, eventually I wanted to find the perfect woman to be her mother and co-parent with me. And I wasn't sure if that was possible if I was bedding every honey who looked at me with smoldering eyes.


Jazz Man

Eating loaded baked potatoes topped with steak strips, shrimp and cheese at Da Spoken; a low key popular club like the joint you saw in the movie, Love Jones; a club that itself was inspired by a former real world club called Spices that lived and died in Chicago long ago back in the 1990s.

Da Spoken is a great Jazz club with some rock bands and Improvisational comedy sprinkled into the mix to keep a steady variety of paying customers. But the foundation that the spot was built upon was Jazz and Spoken Word and poetry slams.

The owner, Calvin Aberdeen, is a veteran in the Christian Rap game who has the respect of many in the Mainstream Rap game. And not only has he always been a strong supporter of local talent, he runs a rooming house on the upper floors for students, artists and bohemians who populate the area. Some work at the club in exchange for rent.

Da Spoken was a happening place for the creative folk to play Spades, Uno, Checkers and Chess (if you were a Mike Stivic type who liked to use the big words) or work on their latest magnum opus.

So if I'm really into a chick ... If I find her particularly special, then I'll take her there for good music, good atmosphere, good Applebees/TGI Fridays/Chili's type of food. But like I said, she has to be really special. Not just "fine as cat hair", but in full supply of an intelligence that is obvious; that I don't have to go digging for like ELVIS preparing for a clambake.

Otherwise ... If its just about 'smashing' and 'crushing', well, that chick will probably end up with a 4 for 4 from Wendy's ... I'm just saying. Real talk.

Remember that. Beautiful and smart = live performances, late night poetry and coffee. Beautiful and dumb = greasy fries and maybe a Frosty.


My Pride & Joy

My daughter.

My best friend.


Named after the MARVEL Superheroes character from the X-Men. Because she was royal and ... Ok. No real reason, except that I just thought the name was cool.

She was my mini-me. We liked the same food, the same movies, the same television shows. And like me she was addicted to bottled iced tea, if you can believe that.

She was that kid ... The great kid who could do no wrong in my eyesight. Who made me super proud with every breath she took, every move she made. And like ROBIN WILLIAMS' character in Mrs. Doubtfire, I couldn't breathe without her. So if it ever came down to choosing between a woman and my daughter, there would be absolutely no contest. I would choose Ororo all of the time.

© 2020 LaZeric Freeman

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