The X Chronicles

People who don't know me in real life (whatever that is) have emailed me over the course of the past year asking if there is a meaning behind my title. Does it refer to actual people? Who are they? And the funniest one - why the hell have I been married twice? This has inspired me to do a series of posts on relationships. First, however, I will take the time to answer those questions...


I have never been married. The title refers to two very significant others who profoundly (for better and worse) impacted my life. If you are a regular reader, then you know that one Ex refers to the father of my child. As much as I want to drown him in a bucket of fermented urine at times - without him, I would not have my daughter. If ever there was a vetting process - he went through it. He was friends with my best friend. Most of my circle knew him and he was considered a sweet gentle soul. The problem is that no one ever required him to be an adult. The people surrounding him required that he stand on stage and play his sax, and that he entertain them. They did not require him to be a father or husband. To this day, his actions as a significant other and father have been a source of shock and sadness for those who know us.

One of the saddest days of my life was almost two years ago when I saw him at our daughter's daycare. He reached out to me with tears streaming down his face, and begged me to give him his family back. I almost took his hand, when the image of my two year old daughter crying and begging him to leave me alone flashed. Walking away was not hard. I have no regrets, other than not leaving sooner.

The other, I have never discussed here. He was fifteen years my senior, white, my best friend and my worst enemy. This week I found myself thinking of him at the most unexpected times. I miss him. I learned that sometimes love is not enough, that age does not always equal maturity and that you can be friends with an Ex.

Clearly, I am still learning. Enjoy.

Arizona. Damn.

Is there really anything left to write?

Introducing...Mr. X

Mr. X is long, tall, handsome and has a voice that is like warm apple cider on an Autumn afternoon. Now, that you've rolled your eyes and struggled to keep from tossing some cookies...


Could he be a unicorn? Probably not. More like...

Angel Face...

Alas, this week has produced some decidedly less than angelic behavior.



And I will still love my little Pookster after she gets out of time out - in about fifteen years.

Are you there God? It's me, KST.

For the past two months, my beautiful little girl has been singing this cute little ditty: Up There Kiddie Bow. Every so often she would ask me to sing with her. Having no clue what she was talking about, I would ask her to sing it to me first. This was always met with exasperation over me claiming not to know this song and her insisting that I did. She would then proceed to bop around and sing the aforementioned title over and over. A couple of weeks ago as we're beginning our morning commute a song comes on and I reach for the dial. The four year old FREAKS out, "Noooo Mommy that's my Sawooong." Meanwhile, color me stunned as I explain to her this is not an appropriate song for her.

She gets this blank look on her face and says,"But Mommy it's Up There Kiddie Bow."

Whoa.

RIP David Mills aka The Undercover Black Man

Maybe I put off posting about this because it would make it seem more real or I just didn't want to think about it. Whatever the reason...I'm lifting the entire article regarding UBM's passing published by one of my other favorite writers.

blackink12 on March 31st, 2010

If you enjoyed The Wire, underground jazz and funk musicians (are there any other kind?), or mocking journalists who badly misidentify black celebrities, then you lost a friend and cohort in David Mills.

Mills, a one-time Washington Post music critic who went on to an Emmy-winning career as a TV writer and producer, died Tuesday after suffering a brain aneurysm. He was 48.

The terrible irony of it is that Mills passed away only two weeks before the debut of the upcoming HBO drama Treme, a series set in a historic black section of New Orleans following Hurricane Katrina.

I have no doubt it will be fantastic.

I have no doubt about this because that’s pretty much how things worked when Mills was involved.

It’s tough to narrow down his accomplishments into a single paragraph. But among the highlights are: producing memorable interviews with a pair of now-forgotten rap stars, one from Sister Souljah that Bill Clinton later used for political opportunism in the 1992 presidential campaign and another from Public Enemy’s Professor Griff that resulted in his ouster from the group; writing for a murderer’s row of big-time TV shows including Homicide, NYPD Blue and The Corner, which many consider the precursor to The Wire; and creating an unusually eclectic and thoughtful blog, Undercover Black Man.

I came to know of Mills through UBM (actually, it was the First Lady who put me on to the blog. Yep, I know how to pick’em). At that point, to me, he was just a cool, smart guy from Cali who knew a lot about the music and television industries.

He didn’t let on that he was a big deal, you know?

And when I decided to make my own tepid effort at creating and running a blog, he was one of the first to give me an encouraging word and some linkage.

He didn’t have to do it. But he did, and I’m truly grateful. If he didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be writing over here (as infrequent as that may be in recent months) or boast a new cadre of friends who are some of the coolest colored folks you’ve ever wanted to meet.

Anyway, since there’s a sort of lofty-style of writing that is beyond my grasp, let me refer you to better tributes here, here and here.

Also, in the final post over at his spot, he included a 14-minute preview of “Treme” that I feel obliged to share here.



RIP, Mills. I’ll be watching and writing.

P.S. If you have to die, you might as well do it at Café du Monde. We should all be so lucky.




f/t blackink12 via PostB