I Believe in The Pop, The Lock, AND The Drop

Dirty Shawn Bradley’s, the cracked screen of a MP3 player, and my mom’s flimsy headphones. 

Stretch the thighs, hamstrings, shoulders, lower back, fingers, neck, biceps, triceps, and most importantly your spiritual animal.

Flip through Outkast, Dangerdoom, N.E.R.D., Yeezy, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, & start with Young H.O.V. to get started. Wait for Ms. Storm’s menacing scowl and short strides to pass by.

Start.

Up Twin Cedars, right on Twin Cliff, loop around Cedar Cliff, down to Stoney Parkway, up Greyfield, wrap around Wraywood to Old Happy Hill to come back. Negative splits so high schoolers don’t mock your efforts.

Right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left.

Pump your arms, relax your double-jointed hands, caress the chest, evenly breathe from your diaphragm, strike the ground more, lower your forehead; your body is synchronized and one with the infinite, whatever that means. 

T.R.O.Y. starts to play as I loop back around, my second wind keeps my pace honest but my hand-me-down baggy clothing exposes my left shoulder. The saxophone medley makes my heart sink, and I phase out of this world. Into a sort of ignorant bliss.

Have you seen it? It is truly spectacular. The spectacle of a vista in the tundra could not compare. The eternal sunshine of the spotless mind if only for a fraction, a millisecond. The deciduous trees reach out to bid me a greeting to an elevated space, to feel every cell in my body to work as a whole system. Complete synchronization.

Goofy grin on my face, middle school composure, ashy kneecaps, arms flailing carelessly, headphones keep falling off, half a mile left, 30 minutes until my bus arrives at Foxwood. 

Chris Diamond, acne-prone 16 year-old, 4th string quarterback, 1st string white trash. I initiate an euphoric wave to the hormonal group of teenagers, showered by routine calls of “faggot.”

Right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left.

An Xbox Killed My Dog

An Xbox Killed My Dog

Have you ever experienced something truly magical and enchanting. Mesmerizing, so awe-inspiring that your tummy felt like it was full of peanut butter cups and rainbows and unicorn vomit?

That was my DAWG, I mean my actual, literal DOG, Mac. Short for Macilious. He was a half sharpei, half mountain curr, all dynomutt of a dog. Medium-sized, sleek- -nay, matte black fur, built like a swamp possum who had a planet fitness membership. 

35 pounds that dog weighed after 2 years, would carry him around all-awkwardly like a teen mom off of MTV when he got too hott outside. Mac’s head would just bobble-bobble like a bobble head, as we would walk back to 80 Fairview Drive. That’s my boy; I mean that was my boy.

Mac did this thing where he would need to go outside. Like he would be in my room upstairs. Then I would creep all the way downstairs, just left him there. Until

I opened the door from the mudroom and yelled “skrrrrrrt skrrrrrrrt” and he would bolt all the way downstairs would and start chasing an imaginary deer outside. Oh, I would do these little drills with him for my own quickness and footwork and it helped me get on the basketball team in high school and then I became popular and got to go on a date with Gina Anderson and then I got a new Xbox and multiplayer then I started lifting a lot of weights and then my dad kept asking me “take the dog out son” then I would say” I don’t want him anymore” as I’m tapping away on my Xbox 360 controller playing NBA 2K11 then I went to school next morning after I walked him then I came back and Mac was gone,

“Where did Mac go,” I asked my dad. 

“He’s gone,” my dad said.

“Oh,” I said.

Well that was my boy, that was my boy. I got him 2 months after he was born when I was 13. Momma paid a quarter of stack for him, he was born on Halloween night. I went to 3 different high schools with him, he was my only friend. The dog that looked me dead in my face and told me “I’ll protect you” even though we both knew damn well he couldn’t box to save his life.

He’s dead now. Last time I saw him, looked like he was 55-60 pounds. 10 years-old died from depression. I had until He was 4. Shit. 

“Where did he go,” I asked my dad. 

“He’s gone,” my dad said.

“Shit,” I said.

Mac was sitting in a car, with some unfamiliar faces, going 3 states away and he had no idea where he was going or why his best friend wouldn’t ever see him again.

I was sitting in my room, thinking about this dog that was going 3 states away that I would never see again. Honestly, Fuck Gina Anderson. Then I turned on my Xbox,

Between Friends Pt. 37

This is between friends 

Now, my best friends have powers,

No please understand this,: my best friends have powers,y

Seen them with my own two Jonny eyes,

I know a woman from North Carolina that can overwhelm you with love only using a smile 

I know a man that lives near Stone Mountain who can manifest sweet melodies using mahogany some phosphor bronze strings,

I know a lady from McDonough who is protecting and training and parenting a real life superhero by herself 

There’s some folks from GTown with a sleight of hand and so down the earth that you think they were born in ‘02

There’s some people down south that can swirl their fingers in the dirt and feed ya’ for a whole season,

I know a ducking waterbender off the coast and fire bender near Manitoba 

I know a pasty, ghostly, pale white boy that can help clear your immune system and then will paint you a portrait of the  Rockies

I know some colorful women who are in Denver who are so magical that it can make a unicorn look like a donkey with a dildo attached on its temple,

I know a collection of comrades that would walk off a decapitation ,

There’s some friends that have been there for a decade and friends that are only there for a night 

I have some friends turned villains , villains turned friends, and some friendly villains 

I know Blade, Black Panther, Domino , Green Lantern, Storm they’re from Willacoochee, GA

I got friends more agile than a crocodile on a Tuesday just before dawn

I know suburban kids who are forealla, country folks who are forealla, and city kids who are forealla 

Theres folks from FAMU, Howard, Morgan State, Hampton, NSU, and VSU that you could bring home to mom to try her unseasoned water casserole 

I got some auntie-like folks that will make you Sunday brunch but will get the armor and peel your wig back when it comes to their kinfolk 

I have friends that remind me to hydrate, eat my greens, cry, pray, and listen to my shitty poems 

Could you imagine people coming into your life that you don’t know and doing whatever they can so you don’t fail, so you won’t fail, you cannot fail

This is between friends,

Romanticize The Villainy Pt. 2

Dear Fair Citizens of America,

I did not mean to try and enslave the human race.

Now that,

This whole scenario is a misunderstanding.

I’m not Chris Brown, not a bad guy.

Let me explain, about me and my product and what will happen next.

Now we are here

With my super evil photon death ray I purchased from some dude called Patty on Craigslist  and it is currently orbiting Earth, over there in space somewhere.

It is aimed at the White House and Betty Whites house. It will go off when I stop speaking sporadically like a leaking spigot

I am letting you all know this because I am making you all an offer than you won’t, can’t, and ain’t refusing 

I want every form of government on this planet to fizzle up and evaporate, I mean dissipate immediately, and terminated expeditiously. This is not a request Trudeau, 

I’m  telling you,

This is now an anarchy, chaos, mayhem, I’m fixin’ to start a riot. You ask me what’s wrong with this world, what is right? I had to default all of my student loans to buy a $350 super evil photon death ray. If I show an American a cat video, they are immobilized for three hours, I met a man who works 90 hours a week, just to stay alive long enough to die of malnutrition. And humans are so damn fickle, senile in any environment, no one even listens to Ruben Studdard or plays with tamagotchis no mores.

Why the only time anybody listens to anybody is, is, is if they have a gun or is a rich, old white man? This is why,

And this is why I locked myself in this office with Mike Huckabee deep throating my 9mm glock.

But don’t worry, fair citizens. Nobody will stop me.

Superman? I got a methodical-diabolical contraption that turned him into a peanut butter-flavored contraception three weeks ago

I just have to ask you this question:

How many people, how many humans do I need to kill to become a hero, a legend? 

Why was I already profiled before I donned the mask, created an evil laugh, and carried my soul is a metal flask?

They were only humans, it’s not like I beat a german shepard with a newspaper, 

I am not a monster.

Now,

I may be a little upset that my imaginary friends walked out on me after refusing to pay rent

Or maybe this third lobotomy is getting to me

Now, I just thought destruction was the ultimate form of creation,

I just thought “the first lesson of history, is, that evil is good”

I just thought all these negatives I am doing would have a result of being positive.

I just thought someone would treat my depression as an illness and to stop telling me to get over it

I just thought my mom wouldn’t die of even though I thought I persuaded the cancer to let her stay

Because I will never fade away, I will never fade away, I will never fade away?

I was born like this, there’s nothing wrong me, I am of natural man.

I don’t care that I know my fate,

But didn’t God hear? The world is mine…

God is throwing biblical floods and wildfires and tsunamis, even hurricanes with great white sharks in them. Who is he to judge…

I’m not a bad guy…I’m not…

I just thought maybe, maybe a little dip of cyanide would go well with your tea.

Sometimes I do bad things, I normally do bad things, but I’m not a bad guy I just make bad guy decisions…but I am not romanticizing the villainy.

But what else am I supposed to do? I’m the epitome of all what is wrong with world, and its fine being a martyr.

I may be a flawed individual, but my biggest flaw is that I am surrounded by all you idiots.

You are all fools! You just need to all SUBMIT, I am trying to save you, I’m your savior.

AND WHEN I SAY CULL THE HERD, it’s because that’s. What. I. Do.

I’m just trying to save you all, from yourselves.

And if you think I am ill-judged,

Then Silence will be your only friend

Bundles of Jon Part 4

My name is Jonathan, half blank, half give a shit.

My name is Jonny, half black , half licorice.

My name is JODY, half black, half don’t give a shit.

My name is Jon, 

But listen, without the ‘H’, 

Half black, half ordinary negro.

These are my bundles of Jons, all of the Jonny bravos, Jon hamms, Jon-Jon, lil Jons, and John Henry irons.

I’m energetic, sometimes translucent, elusive, electric, engaging, enthralled 

Bothered, shocked, Baffled, appalled, and sometimes a straight goof, goof, goofball.

Some days I’m  informative like a Stewart, sometimes I’m going HAM like Ham, 

I’m good and bad for your heart, like John Candy,

I go well with Tater Tots like a Heder, irrationally emotional like a Bernthal

I got lips like a Lovitz,

Fry some french fries like a Favreau

I’ll surf through it  like a Tsunami,

And boring like a bald headed black kid bearing a board and named Two-By-Four

BUT NO F*CKIN’ ‘H’ 

It’s just, I’m sorry. Wait no I’m not. Wait, yeah I am. Wait, no, yes, uh.

I apologize. 

I just love the Jons. It’s as though I couldn’t promote self-love so I promoted the 4 quarters that make me, me. I’m not on some Split or MPD stuff. There is no we’s, there’s only me’s. Jon is sweet, Jon is protecting, Jon is loving, Jon is brash. I’ll beat the sh*t outta of a super sucka’ but I’ll explain why I did afterwards. 

And when I say cull the herd, it’s what I do. 

I Had A Dream I Ran Aurora

I had a dream I ran Aurora, and I was on every local podcast and wouldn’t invite Joe Rogan as a special guest. And 107.5 because that was pretty much the only rap station in Denver. And they played me at Skate City on Adult Nights. And they played me real loud on 44th Avenue, we drive up Colfax, up Josephine. ICE would only be in charge of fixing broken down ice cream trucks. I would reopen the jazz clubs in Five Points. I'd bring back Toys 'R' Us. I would stop Park Hill from being gentrified. Ethiopian joints would be historical landmarks. I would fire all the land developers off Tennyson Street and RiNo. US Thai will be open on Mondays. I would get some Beetbox and then do a 10k off of Westminster Boulevard. I would take 20% of Atlanta’s population and put them in Sloan’s Lake. I would reopen Cornbread Yoga, teachers would get Friday off, and I'd have my own First Draft Brewing Company,

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fsslj.ulximg.com%2Fimage%2F740x493%2Fcover%2F1422040766_b38ee8ce0a8382f6e575a8614464a127.jpg%2F5f9b69899fd761d2c8e77a197874a01c%2F1422040766_top10_gangsta_grillz_97.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.hotnewhiphop.com%2Ftop-10-gangsta-grillz-mixtapes-news.13550.html&tbnid=fU7FTNXw8Smd2M&vet=12ahUKEwjXx9_9z7jjAhUGz6wKHXDHBWQQMygJegUIARClAQ..i&docid=efgPrJwfgixpZM&w=740&h=493&hl=en-us&client=safari&ved=2ahUKEwjXx9_9z7jjAhUGz6wKHXDHBWQQMygJegUIARClAQ

Revenge of the Jon: Dennis Rodman's Bodega Pt. 4

I think a lot of the times I think I am the sh*t but also I am a sh*t.

The name "Jonathan Nyles Whiting" often shortened to "Jon Whiting" is like the whole wheat bread of who I am that encases all of the meats, veggies, condiments. And it has been a good name to me, no matter who generic. Whenever I hear it from other people's mouths, Jonny feels good about it. It's not too crazy of a nomenclature but it gets the job done,

Yesterday Jon had my 18th run in Wyoming for the #runningjonchallenge. I had been feeling well about everything and the weather and atmosphere was perfect for me to get my sub-19 minute 5k. But the night before Jonny had drunk two beers, slept 4 hours that night, and didn't eat food the morning of. And for the first time since Boston in 2017, I stopped running during a race. Just didn't want to run anymore, stopped around the 2.3 mile mark. Only had to run 5 more minutes at that pace to get my post-college PR. But I stopped on the curb, teary eyes glued to the pavement, Jay-Z blasting through my headphones, hands on hips. Angry. To keep in mind I finished 8:20/mile pace and walked the entire last mile. All the way from the finish line to the Capitol Building.

--

When I started this challenge a few years ago, my goal was to run in every state before Jon turns 35 years-old. It was started from excitement, eagerness, and to fill a void. I lived in Portsmouth, Virginia and taught at a school and area I hated. Yes I mean hated. After the realization that "I didn't want to die sad in this sad place" this challenge was birthed. At that point in my life, I had only been out of college for a year and that 'glass half-empty' mentality was creeping in. Was Jon supposed to teach for 30 years then exist above this garage apartment saturated with roaches and owned by two Trump supporters who drunk Coors light all day? What do you tell a big-eyed 23 year-old at that point?

And it's been a miracle from that point; not just this challenge but my overall demeanor change back to wonderment of a child. I've been more intentional with almost every person and almost everything Jon does. Of course I have setbacks such as my Wyoming race. I did talk about with my mother and brother over our group chat. Like my Boston race, my mind was not invested in it.

Since July 2018, JODY has run in California, South Carolina, Michigan, Ohio, Wyoming, Nebraska, New Mexico, and Colorado. In to put into thought of me mentally preparing for this one thing for a few months with the anxiety I carry all the way through the race; the finances into transportation, lodging, racing fees; physically just pushing my body to finish at a certain time; it honestly does hurt. And if I am not putting in 100% effort into then ultimately I can't 100% enjoy it.

Now this is a challenge, challenges have setbacks. It won't be this exponential amazing time all the time. It's going to hurt, it's going to be difficult. But the support I've gotten from friends, family, and the Jons has been worth it. Jon was too proud to use a GoFundMe since it's not a life or death situation but link is at the bottom of the page. Can't do this alone. And aye, almost at halfway point, 9 years left. Let's get it,


GoFundMe: https://www.gofundme.com/f/runningjonchallenge&rcid=r01-156234321375-3cc8d2ae194d49d8&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_w

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/gentrifiedcornbread/

Writing this entry while listening to "Under the Sun" by Dreamville Records has put me in a good mood.