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.

The Last Black Superhero In Arvada

I don’t think it’s fair to rule out the possibility of superpowers in today’s modern world. The preconceived notion that it’s only found in comic books or blockbuster movies seems ignorant at times to a Jonny. Because I’ve see these powers before, I feel them,

—

After an afternoon nap, I had this dream where I sleeping in my own bed and I woke up. All of my Christmas lights were on and handful of people I know were standing in my living room. Around all of us were paintings and drawings and writings that I created as a child until present day. Even though I don’t illustrate anymore, JODY saw one of my more prominent works as a child.

It was a picture of my friends Alex and Matt along with me going against our common enemy (John with a “H”.) Alex was in a green cape, I was in a red cape, and my friend Matt was in a purple cape. I remember I drew Matt’s face with a slight grimace, but not sure why. It was though I wasn’t sure about him,

—

Ever since Jon was a young Jon, everything was this epic or graphic novel of sorts. My friends, my identity, my family, church, going to school, making food; it’s as though every scene or scenario gave off this huge aura or vibe. As solid or as bright as Christmas lights. Everything to me had its own place in this eternal journey. Well at least in my head so it seems. Everything must be drawn and fleshed our to me. Like it had to be extra. And what did I do with all of this information?

First of all not a Jonny, Jon, JODY, nor Jonathan was the hero in my own narrative. I was the narrator narrating everybody else’s epic climax (nice one Jon). But forealla, all of the friends who were heroes or bullies who were villains or friends that turned out to be villains, was described on paper. Whether it be illustrating or writing, every thing had to be documented. Everything essentially had its own purpose. 

This is also reflected in my own self-reflective nature, yes, right, absolutely. So whenever something happened in Jon’s everyday life to one of the protagonists, it would often intercept my energy levels and I would often figure out how to correct it. Because that’s the job of a narrator I feel like sometimes and that’s the job of a friend. I think,

And the powers that everyone encompasses has a range. My friend Jamal has the ability to serenade anyone with in 100 feet with his classical guitar. My friend Abby can redirect any opposing threat with a few choice words. Big KAT can lower anyone’s emotional or intellectual shields to make them vulnerable with a willingness to share almost anything with her. Beanie Baby’s ergh, baby has to beginnings of showing great strength at a young age, the physical stature of a brick wall almost. 

What are my powers? Depends on whatever my narrator gives me,

When My Papa Says Grace

Love ain’t for sale, well at least not the love I’m talking about

No, Love is free

Love is giving you the big piece of fried chicken, even though I could write you a 10-page research paper with works cited in APA format on how much I wanted that big piece of fried chicken

Love is knowing you will always been there when I need you

Love is calling you every Mother’s Day even if you didn’t birth me

Love is pulling me inside your house because it’s about to rain

Love is putting me on the program as the headliner, even though you knew I shouldn’t be allowed to be around a microphone in public

Love is never, ever, never taking off your #teamcrawley wristband even though there’s green mold starting to accumulate on your wrist

Love is what Christians are supposed to do

Love is what got me and my father through the fourth quarter of 2013,

Love is embracing that one cousin or one auntie you may not know very well with hugs, with their arms as bony as Skeletor or as big as Mean Joe Green, trying to figure out how in the hell would I know you from when you changed my diaper when I was 6 months old,

Love is taking you to school when you pretend to miss the bus in the morning even if I’m not too fond of your extracurricular activities

Love is that initial slow clap of rain, hitting a lonely tin roof with a slow pitter-patter in a small town in middle Georgia.

Love is not berating your grandson because he puts sugar on his grits

Love is easy

Love is good,

Love is great

Love is God, God is great

Love is a mutual attraction on site like a covalent bond between some hydrocarbons that can be your fuel through the day

But hydrocarbons are volatile

Love is volatile

Love is hard

Love is as ubiquitous as Everybody Loves Raymond and is as meandering as Everybody hates Chris

Love is rough,

Love is lead,

Love is nasty, spits out sulfuric acid, dissolving skin and bones

Love can be Christmas in the morning and Halloween at night,

Love is bland

Like, like, like that one Auntie who does not know how to season chicken

Love is a colorless, odorless gas that may keep you in eternal slumber

But love is asking if you made it home last night.

Love is me calling you back that I made it home last night.

Love is when I’m crying because you never made it back home last night. And you probably won’t again tonight

Love is cousin Sonia still checking up on me even though I evaded her hugs for 15 years

Love is cousin Allie Mae giggling and running away whenever I try to pick her up

Love is cousin Brandon buying me a PBR even though I didn’t want another PBR

Love is Audrey interrogating me about the last time I ate

Love is throwing the ball at my brother’s head whenever we played pick-up games and still talking to each other by the time dinner is over

Now love is something I have taken for granted

Like flipping on a light switch and expecting lights to come on or my Papa taking a hour to say grace

These are things that are SUPPOSED to happen

But not everybody has electricity, not everyone has a Papa was pageantry

Not everybody knows what it’s like to be loved by some receding hairline folks from South Boston

But I do, and I hope everyone else here knows what I speak of

That’s love

Now ask me about hate?

I ain’t got time for that

I don’t need to listen to K-Dot to know that Team Crawley is gon’ be alright

Because I’ve seen love in my Papa’s eyes as well as his three big-headed children.

Love is all I got,

"Tream 'Em Right" by Chubb Rock has always been one of the songs that get my focused and strong for the day

A Single White Mom With A New Magic Wand

I ran a 5k with my family last thanksgiving. My parents, Big KAT, JW, and His lady.

I finished first, ran back to finish with my brother, ran back to finish with my father, ran back to finish with Big KAT, ran back to finish with Holli & Momma.

I was so happy to see black people (+1 Mayo) together and being active and healthy. Not a cookout, funeral, family lecture, candlelight vigil, day drinking, school hearing. Just some fucking niggers going for a fucking jog in fucking Bluffton, South Carolina

Why the fuck couldn’t we be doing this the entire fucking time throughout my entire fucking life. I’m over here trying to be fucking be carefree like a white 35 year-old mom stay-at-home/freelance necklace maker who’s off the grid and drinks fucking mimosas while Forest and Chet eat mayonnaise sandwiches 

Well Jon consider the following:

You’re not a 35 year-old mayo woman with two adorable little translucents,

Jon is the half black, half niggerish, half licorice, half don’t get a zit,

A heavily tattooed colored man from the south who runs more 5ks than an Asian from San Fran and teaches more yoga classes than a , uh, 35 year old white women with two kids(?)

I got a unicorn on my leg and niggas think I’m sweet like an episode of Doc McStuffins (oh my Jon that’s a huge compliment!)

But they the ones suckling down Arizona teas like a toddler when they need to be suckling the sweet teat of a Dasani bottle and fondling skittles while they need to be fondling some robust spinach and rutabaga 

I’ll work on those analogies later.

But I fell deep in the waters, 

I was trying to hydrate.

Like sometimes I’m am the shit or I’m just a shit.

Jon be making up excuses like ‘I’m just impulsive or ‘it’s the uncle curses’ 

When I really don’t even know those folk

People wonder how a Single Jo(h)n passed away but Golden Corral has a higher body count then some gangs around LA 

But who gives cares when heart disease didn’t take one of my former students or Tamir or Trayvon ,

Now they weren’t even old enough to earn a free timeshare in Williamsburg or sign off on field trip permission slips to the National Arboretum 

Now I’m reading this 14 year olds obituary the only thing more scary than Terry

And I wonder one day if they ever wanted to just run a 5k with their families in Bluffton, South Carolina

Reruns Of Martin

Jonny: Do you ever say and do stupid sh*t Jon? Not out of spite or anger or for laughs; just because you're you?

Jon: I think inherently as a human, we are supposed to dumb sh*t for no reason, what do you mean exactly?

Jonny: For example, someone asked me what book would I recommend for them to read based off of our conversation. We discussing the 'the black man's plight' and how better to serve those who are and have been under-served not just in urban or rural communities, but in general. From a homeless veteran to a young POC man earning a degree in Politics.

Jon: So what book did you recommend?

Jonny: I recommended Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates to expand on the numerous facilitators that threaten to disembody black men and black women,

Jon: That's dope, well what did the book say about those threats? How should we deal with them?

Jonny: I am not sure, I only read the first paragraph of the synopsis on Wikipedia.

Jon: ....

Jonny: ...

Jon: ............

Jonny: Like at a certain age, it is expected for you to answer questions and continue on with conversation, correct? Why would I pause mid-conversation, as an adult, just to convey my idiocracy with a question? And as an adult, at this point in my life, it is time to STOP learning and START talking. I have taken full responsibility for my incompetence at my seasoned age,

Jon: Do you truly think at this point of your modern life you are done learning and taking on or in new points of view? When doid the age of 25 promote complacency and competence? Your adulthood should be constantly fluid with new opportunities and innovation and experiences as you evolve through the different stages of your life,

Jonny: But you're forgetting I am an IDIOT and if people find out, then conversations become dumb and boring and useless. I have been tricking people into believing I'm an interesting and intelligent guy.

Jon: But what if you're ACTUALLY both of those things?

Jonny: Don't patronize me n*gga. Forrealla though, we have a super computer in the palm of our hands and no one talks about it. There is a whole sea of knowledge and tips to everlasting wealth, and no one is honing in on this infinite resource of vital information for your everyday prosperity. You know what I did with my super computer that can literally contact the Vice President if I wanted and knew how too?

Jon: Did you watch Infinity Wars trailers again?

Jonny: I watched Infinity Wars trailers again,

Jon: Well why would you put this cap on your own self ? You tell yourself "yup this is just how it is forever" and stay in this futile, semi-veggie state of mind? How would anyone get to their full potential or overall full-self without the constant need to break down knowledge and rebuilding by using what you just learned? You literally do this when you exercise on a more palatable, tangible form for hours a week. And you know this better than I do: if you're going to be the ultimate best version of yourself, why you or anyone prematurely stop?

Jonny: It's sort of this confidence that I am 'done' learning. In this confidence that I am an imbecile. It makes me content and I've come to terms with it. It's not that I know anything or that I am arrogant; I'm fairly sure my brain has been running overcapacity since sophomore year at Salem High. Everything else crammed in there has been a nice bonus.

Yes there is the confidence of being inquisitive and helping to not only improve yourself but one day raise a family. Even with this basic conversation, I thought a little bit further in the future: why would I add another little Jon to the world when I know where I am intellectually now. Even if I marry the Nubian Goddess Zendaya, most likely half of that kid's mentality is going to be my drive, or lack thereof. I know where I am, a heap of wasted potential. And I am tired of everything.

Why does nobody talk about how much water sucks to drink? Who's going to actually check the random percentage that I made up about abortion rates in Missouri? You can post anything on the internet and people won't even care if it's fact or even click on the link. I think I am more aware because I am acknowledging it. I just want to sit with my legs cross-legged and die when I am supposed too. If there is even a chance that a kid shot through my dingy is going to have that lack of energy, what's the point of reading a book on why n*ggas are getting sh*tted on to impress a girl at the coffee shop?

Jon: Hold that, a girl? What is she like,


Jonny: Jon, she was Ethiopian, loves Steve Lacy, loves kids, 6"1, and that thang looked like a swam possum with the mumps,

Jon: You know what, I MUST be overthinking it. Tekashi Oats was that n*gga you say?