The Fresh Hair Cut Effect

 "The Black MansCountry Club"

Every week or two, I find myself seated in an old leathery black chair with a light black cloth draped around my shoulders. With sweat slowly dripping down my brow from the lack of centralized air in the room. Infused with the boisterous sounds of drums, horns and the melodic tunes of the Caribbean playing from a huge but, out-of-date wall speaker. While dozens of men holler and banter back and forth on such riveting subjects as, Nicki Minaj’s ass, Why Michael Vick shouldn’t play this week, the latest Chrysler 300 model, and Nicki Minaj’s Ass... again...

If you haven’t guess by now, this is my Barbershop. “The Black Man’s Country Club,” if you will. Now I realize everyone’s experience might not be as prestigious and as exceptional as mine. Haha. But whether you go to the traditional barber, Super Cuts (for my paler less pigmented friends) or your cousin Tito who cuts your hair in his garage. One thing is Universal...

                                    Fresh Haircuts Make a Man Feel GOOOOOOD!!!

And I’m not talking about the I-got -a -three –day- weekend -from work -kind –of-good. Or the, I- just- won $20- dollars- on –a- scratch off ticket -kind- of- good either. I’m talking about the, IF- KERRY WASHINGTON- HERSELF -WALKED PASSED- ME RIGHT –NOW- SHE WOULD- WANT TO HAVE- MY -CHILD, KIND –OF- GOOD! ... Just because my Fade is Tight.

Maybe I’m just speaking for myself but after a nice cut, my Smile is a little brighter, there’s a little lean in my step, and extra debonair flare in my voice. I can’t be stopped. “King Kong ain’t got nothing on me.”  A good example would be Bradley Cooper in “Limitless.” 

But with all the extra pep and energy, most of the time, it goes unnoticed by many. As Men we are quick to give out compliments to ladies. Such as “Damn girl yo’ booty so nice I wanna eat cereal out the dimples of your Ass.” Although quite obscene and highly uncalled for, We mean well...We mean well...Truly... We really mean well.

And yet this grand act of misplaced admiration is rarely returned.

So ladies, I dare you...

I triple double dog nuts dare you,

From this point on and until sweet black baby Jesus comes and takes us away (Fuck  YOU FRANK OCEAN FOR THAT BULLSHIT Ass LINE!), If you see a brother with a smooth, well maintained cut.

Say something Dammit! You never know you might get a free Gatorade or something out of it.

And fellas don’t be afraid to tell your boy he has a fresh cut. IT’S NOT GAY... It’s only Gay unless you were stroking the side of his head and gazing into his eyes while you were saying it.

 I AM WE.

Man In the Mirror

“Who Am I? I Am We.”

Have you ever looked in the mirror and seen Yourself. I mean not just stare, wondering why one nostril is bigger than the other, or why your eyebrows don't match, or playing with that one stray nose hair. But actually look into yourself, for who you are.. It’s hard as fuck I know.

I did this the other day and it scared the shit out me. Well not really shit. per se, but more of a gaseous feeling, like when you eat one too many slices of Papa Johns meat lovers pizza with cheese crust. (Side note: stay away from the dairy black folk). Back to the matter at hand, I looked at myself and finally understood that the longer I am here on this Planet. The less  I know. That shit  cray

My mom always told me...

"Wisdom doesn't come with age, it comes with experience. Young fools will probably die old fools.”

So this blog is my attempt not to die an old fool. haha.

Chronicling my thoughts, experiences and blunders with the aim that next time I look in the mirror, I’ll see Me, my only enemy.

So.....Read, Share, Comment if you like. This Chronicle is not just MY OWN , but OUR journey. Because who am I? I am We. We all have questions. Some thought provoking, some about life, some just about things that perplex us.  Like...... how can Lil Wayne be a gangbanger and still wear skintight leather pants? Or why do girlfriends always come to the conclusion that the perfect opportunity to discuss major, important life problems and circumstances is when the game is on!? Or who would win in a fight?  The Cookie Monster or the Grouch? Or better yet, what would you do if your son was at home, crying all alone on the bedroom floor cuz he's hungry, and............and....Damn I forgot the rest but, you get my point.

So come with me......this quiet, sarcastic, chocolate southern gentleman’s chronicle TO KNOW.

C.C Black

I am We