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Everybody’s Got Their Thing. What’s Yours?

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Everybody’s got their thing, and that thing is more important to them than it is to you. Why? Because you have your own thing, unless you’re a Nihilist or some enlightened Buddha, but even those assholes have soapboxes tucked away.

My thing was atheism for years, then humanism, and now I’m partial to rich french desserts. It was exhausting trying to get anyone to care about my thing. Most people can’t put aside their own thing long enough to care about yours. Also, sometimes your thing offends other people, who are just trying to live their lives, goddammit. Not every religious person is blowing themselves up in public. Not yet, anyway.

It was exhausting trying to get anyone to care about my thing.

My dad is obsessed with chaos theory. Which is to say he’s trying to find patterns in seemingly random numbers. Which is a nice way of saying he has a gambling problem. You can find him every day at the coffee shop with a stack of scribbled numbers within grids that would mean nothing to you or I. If you’re gonna talk to him, you’ll get an earful about his latest attempts at finding patterns and beating the system. That’s his thing. It’s not my thing, but I listen with a certain degree of interest when he talks because it’s nice to listen to each other’s things.

Some of my gay friends are super-into gay rights. Their Facebook feeds are replete with the latest headlines, political detritus, and memes around those very important issues. Same for my righteous feminist friends. You’re not gonna escape the cocktail party without hearing some stats about equal pay.

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Two men talking about their things.

Many of my black friends had some heavy shit happen to them in life, and continue to, so you’re gonna hear about it when we get together to chat. It’s their thing. It’s who they are. My Asian friends, too, for some similar and some very different reasons.

I’ve got a friend who is truly into reincarnation. You may or may not believe in reincarnation but it’s her thing and she’s thought about it in ways you haven’t. She has no kids so she isn’t interested in leaving the world a better place for them. She’s looking to leave it a better place for herself when she returns. I don’t have to believe in reincarnation to know that’s a super interesting way to think about it.

My musician friends are gonna expound on the life of a professional musician and how the landscape has deteriorated into a few money making performers and a sea of starving artists who have no chance at making a real living. Which reminds me of another friend who worked twenty years in the corporate world, slaving day and night for the man, only to have his job shipped overseas. His job and the jobs of several thousand other employees at the same company, that is. Seems unfair that you can’t make a decent living simply by doing your job well or even better than most, but there’s always someone ready to exploit you out of the equation. That’s their thing.

My brother is gonna talk about Star Wars, heavy metal, and flatulence. Not in that order, but with equal parts passion. I’ve got friends who can’t go two minutes without talking about sports or politics, or some esoteric insider minutiae based on their very specific occupation. Try talking to a Teacher without standardized tests coming up in conversation, or how stupid kids are these days compared to when we were all frickin’ geniuses.

Claire had a thing for red shoes.

Claire had a thing for red shoes.

I don’t want to imply that folks are exclusive to their “things.” Any one of the friends above can talk about a host of other issues, like I can. I’m into rights and the plight of minorities, and I think hard working Yuppies and musicians alike should be able to make a living off their hard work. But how does one prioritize all these “things” in the limited time we’re awake each day? I can listen to you talk, nod my head, actively agree with you, and then “like” a billion things on Facebook, but what does it actually add up to?

The internet has kept us apprised of each others things in ways the telephone never could. In a way, it’s too much to truly absorb, and it’s possible that someone else’s very important “thing” just became part of the wallpaper you take for granted. And that’s not fair, especially since some of those people are literally dying and are totally deserving of our full attention. Maybe cancer or some incurable disease is their thing, not politics or making a buck.

How does one prioritize all these “things” in the limited time we’re awake each day?

If the question is “where can we find fresh supplies of actionable empathy?” then I have no answer. I know what it’s like to listen to your hard-luck story yet secretly wish I could snap my fingers and be home eating something sweet before taking a nice nap. Come on, admit I’m not alone. Haven’t you ever walked home from a hard day at the office only to come across three separate homeless people asking for money? You may give a dollar to the first guy, but those next two get the “I already gave” shrug. If you can give every homeless person the same attention regardless of how many you come across, you are a better man than me. Maybe being better than me is your thing.

I do know that many of the folks I mentioned above will tell you their thing is the most important thing happening in the world right now. At least to them. They probably won’t like that I mention their things alongside other people’s things in the same essay. It’s not my intention to diminish anyone’s things. At least I don’t think it is.

This is the point where I’d summarize a way to navigate this stuff, but I have no idea. I’m still trying to figure out how to get people to stop killing each other over an invisible man in the sky. I’m totally preoccupied with my own things to a fault. It’s become a source of guilt for me to try and enjoy a piece of cake while the world around me drowns in a sea of things. How am I supposed to take a picture of my meal or a sunset, or entertain my interests in music and art when humans are dying or are being exploited every day across this planet for no good reason? Maybe I’m not meant to enjoy things and I should instead focus on fixing all the ills of the world great and small. But honestly, that’s just not my thing.

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Rest Easy Eric Curran a.k.a M.C Krispy E

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Almost every year for the past 6 years and on the same day, I’ve posted the same pic of me in the hospital  during my temporary and untimely demise  in 2015. A few weeks after I was back to “normal”, I asked Eric “Why’d you take the pics?” And he said, “I knew you would want to write about it if you lived.” Eric was right. Eric was often right and Eric always had my best interest at heart. I am going to miss my friend.

You ever meet someone and become friends immediately?! Well this was not the case with Eric. Before he was my manager at Morgan Stanley, I would often see this 6’4″, giant white guy walk up to the only black woman at work, say something then walk away without any hint of human emotion. Naturally I thought he was a jerk until I asked her “Yo, is that dude bothering you?” She laughed and proceeded to tell me he was a great person, which I ultimately got to experience first hand. Little did I know this Italian from Staten Island was more Brooklyn than most Brooklynites.

Eric was not with the shits!! If there were ever someone who lived their life in direct, honest and no uncertain terms, that would be Eric. He would ask me questions at work like “Why are the other consultants making more money than you?” I knew the answer to that question and so did he. Eric then proceeded to increase my salary by 15K. After arguing with all our managers that “You need to hire Alfred!”, they eventually did 1 year prior to the 2015 incident. In the hospital, one of my friends asked me, “What if you didn’t have health insurance when this happened?” I would be in debt for the rest of my life is the obvious answer. I still am in debt for the rest of my life but at least, it is to those who made sure I had a more enjoyable life and for that, I will gladly repay.

My mom loved to tell me the story of how she met Eric. After they told her I was going to be in the ICU for some time, she told the doctor “Well I’m not going anywhere.” She then hears a voice from that back of the room that says “Well I’m not going anywhere either!” That was Eric and in true form, he was at that hospital every single day until I was discharged.

Eric passed away in December 2021 of stage 4 cancer. After feeling faint on his way to my bbq, he went to get checked out and was diagnosed. During the past 5 years, Eric lost his mom, twin brother and dad. I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have felt like but I’m glad that pain he was feeling is no more.

It’s been a bit difficult to deal with it to be quite honest and I’ve been writing this in my head for years but never had the bravery or grace to accept that my friend wouldn’t be here soon. I also can’t imagine what it must be like to lose your entire family nucleus unexpectedly. In true Eric fashion however, I would like this to not be about me but whomever has lost someone and has been coping. I’ve always intimated that my life would not be as enriched as it was were it not for the people in it. The problem with that is there is also no way to deny that it feels empty without those who helped craft your path. Rather than focus on the negative, I would rather focus on the examples of duty, family and emotional intelligence. All concepts reinforced by Eric that have led me to have successful relationships since I’ve put them into practice.

From being my manager to my business partner, writer, book editor, artistic director, and most importantly, my friend, I am going to miss you MC Krispy E a.k.a “Enrique Pollazo!” And although you told me Enrique means Henry in Spanish and not Eric, it was too late!

Sidebar. The day I was discharged, while everyone was deciding what was best for me, no one had remembered that I would need clothes in order to leave the hospital. Eric shows up (unasked) with all the clothes I had on the day I coded, laundered and ready to go. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve friends like this but i need to keep doing it! Sidebar complete.

Rest in Peace Eric. “Be Good.”

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Writing Your First Book / Should I Self Publish?

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I had the distinct pleasure of  participating in a panel discussion on writing your first book, presented by the Harlem chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Inc.  Alongside Jim St. Germain, Author – A Stone of Hope: A Memoir and Dr. Keneshia Nicole Grant, Author – The Great Migration and the Democratic Party: Black Voters and the Realignment of American Politics in the 20th Century.  We opined on pain points, benefits and strategies regarding our inaugural voyages into authorship. Feel free to watch for your self and I hope this provides some insight to all those looking to make the same voyage. Enjoy!

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What the NFT is a BEEPLE?

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On March 11 this year, the digital artist Beeple sold a collage of digital images from his “Everydays” series for nearly 70 million dollars as an NFT, or non-fungible token. And if that sentence confuses you, you’re not alone.

A non-fungible token is a unit of data on a digital ledger called a blockchain, where each NFT can represent a unique digital item, and thus they are not interchangeable. NFTs can represent digital files such as art, audio, video, and other forms of creative work. While the digital files themselves are infinitely reproducible, the NFTs representing them are tracked on their underlying blockchains and provide buyers with proof of ownership.” – Wikipedia

Still confused? Let the artist himself explain it, and learn how he went from NFT newbie to making the third most expensive artwork by a living artist in three months. Not to suggest Beeple is an overnight success. The “Everydays” series alone involved creating a piece of art every day since May 1, 2007 – and he hasn’t missed a day.

Check out some of Beeple’s amazing and controversial work below.

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