Inhalt

A Brick Out Of Place

A Brick Out Of Place

My Rite Of Passage

Lamar Dexter Gardner

This Book Is Dedicated To:

My Mother Mrs. Clementine Johnson

(S.I.P)

My Wife Jacqueline L. Aviles-Gardner

All My Children and Step-Children

And

To All Those Who Helped Shape My Life to

What It Is Now “Thanks But God Made Me

Indestructible!”

Chapter Title

One The Latch Key Kid

Two My Mother

Three Johanna and Coco

Four Straddling the Fence

Five The Eviction

Six A Whole New World

Seven Mr. Nobody Is Somebody Now

Eight A Different Approach

Nine A Full 360

Ten Recovery / Time to Reinvent

Eleven New Life – New Endeavors

Twelve Romeo and Hooliet

Thirteen Our Trials and Tribulations

Fourteen A Walk To The Alter

Fifteen Memories

Sixteen Emotions

Seventeen Advertisements, Products And Social Links

Eighteen DJ 20/20”s Philosophical Quotes

AUTHOR’S MUSIC ANTHOLOGY

DJ 20/20, THE MAN, THE MYTH, THE INFAMOUS, THE LEGEND

Born in Tallahassee, Florida, In 1970 Raised in the South Bronx, New York since 1973, Lamar Gardner P. K. A. DJ 20-20 has endured many trials and tribulations to find his way into the game of music, from just playing records for my mom’s get together’s at home, to spinning records outside in the New York City school yards with the likes of DJ Putt-Putt (now at Sweetwater’s in the Bronx) and the Legendary Grandmaster Flash in the 1980’s, then also working the house party circuits around the neighborhood’s, to conducting and developing the musical playlist and scores for all his Jr High and High School talent shows and also working in the various nightclubs in and outside New York as a main attraction, back up disc jockey or sub, DJ 20/20 has shown that determination and persistence is definitely a main factor in life when you choose a profession that you love? Working on his craft since the age of thirteen, Lamar Gardner P.K.A DJ 20/20 earned the title of one of the best R-n-B/Hip-hop producers in the South Bronx area, but without real industry recognition his chances turned out to be slim to become a force in the music world and of being ‘discovered. Talent shows, Radio Interviews and other promotional tactics were just not working at the time. DJ 20/20 p.k.a Young Dr. Dre has been making music for 28 years. He was signed to Vintertainment Records in 88-90, All City Records in 92-93, Gee-street/Island Records in 93-95, Flat-top Records in 96-97, and Big East Records in 97-2001 and is presently working at his own label Comatose / Universal / Sonic Wave Recordings.

In 1992 a childhood friend Mysterme Santos P.K.A. Mysterme of Mysterme and DJ 2020 and DJ 20/20 had trooped to the West Coast, San Francisco to record demos with producer Mc Sway, Joe Quixx and King Tech (KMEL-big-time radio DJ’s in California), together we made a song called “Unsolved Mysterme”. At this time Mc Sway (who now works doing news commentary for MTV) was working on a single of his own called “Bust Your Rhymes” with their group in Cali, but due to the fact the “Unsolved Mysterme” track was so hot, Joe Quixx decided to add it as a b-side to their single project. The track was then released on All City Records in California.

In 1992, with a real vinyl recording under their belt, DJ 2020 and Mysterme came back home, while their manager Kevin Glenn of Uptown Bounce Entertainment searched out a New York recording deal for the duo’s other recordings. Manager Kevin Glenn in due time hooked onto a deal with Island Records new independent label Gee-street Records who was very interested in the B-side single “Unsolved Mysterme”. After the matter was discussed the deal was signed and we were now signed recording artist with Gee-street Recordings, with a deal on the table, it was time to make it happen. We re-released the track “Unsolved Mysterme” with Gee-street Recordings, which was brought out rights and all from Mc. Sway and Joe Quixx by Gee-street / Island Recordings. “Unsolved Mysterme” was released in 1993; it was an automatic underground hit, even though it was previously recorded by All City Records in California. The Island Record label went all out on the single (video, radio, college radio, video talk shows, stickers and posters, pictures, videos of stage shows, record pools, clubs tape masters and independent retailers, etc.) And sent the group out on a 10-state, all expenses paid promotional tour.

Upon returning from the tour, Mysterme and DJ 20/20 headed back into the New York City’s recording studios to begin recording the album “Let Me Explain”. The group was bumped up from Gee-street Recordings to Island Recordings (Gee-street’s mother label), due to the success of the re-released single “Unsolved Mysterme”. The group achieved many magazine write-ups: Billboard (May 28, 1994), the Source (June 8, 1994), Spice (June 17, 1994), Era-Rap Bitz (1994), Street Sound November 1994) and One Knut Mag (January 14, 1995), Word Up! (Summer 1995), the Rap Pages (Sum / Fall 1995), etc.

In the fall of 1995 the group’s record deal was terminated from the Label even though they had sold over 65,000 copies and had developed a nice fan base; the president of the label cited irreconcilable differences between the Group and the label. After the split, Mysterme went on to get signed by Fever Records P.K.A.

Puzzleman and DJ 20/20 went on to produce the groups The BluntHeadz on Flattop Records, the Ice “Kreem” Man on Ichiban Records in Atlanta and Reckless Youth on his own New York based label Comatose Recordings in 1996. There wasn’t much to be done with these group’s projects because the funding and promotional expenses were limited, at this time DJ 20/20 had creative control but no real money to back up retailer’s and radio demands for the material. Then in 1997 “The Specialist formerly of the group “The BluntHeadz” (Record Ain’t Nothing Happen’n Here) hooked A deal with Big

East Records and released an album called “Life Itself”, at the same time he was recording and promoting the labels group “The Henchmen” We didn’t like the contract we were offered so we released that album with Big East Recordings and then left the label entirely (we did a KRS-ONE, remember he was signed there to when it was B-Boy Records)

In the winter of 1997, DJ 20/20 went to school (Monroe Community College) and took several courses in Business / Administration Management. DJ 20/20 has received numerous awards during his enrollment (College Scholarship, Deans List and a 3.5 GPA in his first two semesters), and an Associate’s Degree in Business Administration / Management. After school he went back to intern at Big East Recording’s Studio (B.A.C) / Rock Candy Muzik. He worked with the likes of KRS-ONE & Scott La Rock (R.I.P.), Castle D, Narkim the Rhythm Maker, Willie D, the Persuaders, RoBO Cop Boys, D-Nice and the Henchmen. 20 has also worked with Eric B and Rakim, DJ Red Alert, PM Dawn, Doug E Fresh, Ultramagnetic’s Kool Keith & Ced Gee, T La Rock an DJ “My Uncle” Chuck Chillout.

Today, 2009, DJ 20/20 owns his own label Comatose / Universal Recordings (He’s C.E.O) and now has produced many instrumental tracks and many compilations, receiving a lot of light radio work (91.9, 90.3, Hot 97, 103 jams and 105) for The 20 Sack Experience Volume 1 and The 20 Sack Experience Volume II Compilations featuring various artists from the 20 Sack Entertainment, ASCAP family. Now starting his new website @ MySpace.com/20LG20 for those Artists who need music, email contacts or any other information an artist may need when dealing with him musically. DJ 20/20 is now has expand his studio business and sells hot off-the-press instrumentals to aspiring Artists on the Internet looking for music to write lyrics to and even adds their demo packages to various promotional project, A and R’s and record labels.

DJ 20/20 has also attended “The Institute of Audio Research” in 2007-2008 during the daytime receive his engineers license and audio recording professional certificate., and works at “In Da Streetz Studio at Night (Manhattan based)” 2007-2008, now more than likely you will find DJ 20/20 at his own recording and graphic arts studio Dexter’s Lab Studio’s in Far Rockaway, Queens. DJ 20/20 has recently appeared on 91.9 FM with D.W.I. AND THE SEXY MZ HILL in the BX, and on 99.9 FM with DJ Young Tech in Park Place, New Jersey, Rockland World Radio.com in NYACK, N.Y., AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST ON OLD WESTBURY RADIO WITH DJ CASSIUS CLAY. DJ 20/20 has also had his own radio show on Vonfenceradio called “Word On Da Streetz / Wide World Wednesday’s”, which aired December 5, 2007 to April 8, 2008 and on February 27, 2008 received the F.C.C / VFR award for best new internet radio show and on November 6, 2008 started his own radio show on Nowlive.com “DJ 20/20’s Word On Da Streetz Radio which still airs today. DJ 20/20 in January 2009 is now embarking on a new mission with OVN.com Television and MTV 3 to form and invent “Word on Da Streetz Television” for 2009-2010. DJ 20/20 also shoots and edits film on my Power Macintosh computer. He uses Final Cut Pro and Adobe Premier 7.1 to do my editing and add transitions for clips, a DV camera, Camcorder and a 16 bit movie film camera.

PROLOGUE

A Word From The Author

They say a brick house can stand for decades as long as all the bricks are in place but what if one of those brick was removed? How vulnerable does that house become? My mother was the brick that held our foundation together, and then tragically removed, we all fell down. So many things have happened in my life growing up, some funny and some sad. I find myself sitting around with people talking about my early misadventures. People told me “20 you should write a book” (20 was a shorter version of DJ 20/20 giving to me by my peeps, duh). I never really gave it any thought because I figured the things that were happening in my life were just as normal as anybody else’s, putting these events, accomplishments or misfortunes on paper never really crossed my mind. I said “self” “What would I like to expose the world to about me”? Would people be open-mined and interested in reading it? So I said fuck it give it a shot! The stories you are about to read are as true as far as my knowledge can take you. The characters in these stories names have been changed to protect the rights of those who didn’t give me permission to use their real names. The stories aren’t written in chronological order, they are written in a style of how I would normally tell them. Most of my stories revolve around me, “the brick” of my family, my mother, my upbringing, trials and tribulations and what happened to me when that brick was removed from our family wall. All my stories are real and based on true events that shaped my life, my rite of passage into manhood. Enjoy.

WHO IS LAMAR DEXTER GARDNER?

I was born in South Bronx, New York April 25th, 1970 to Mrs. Clementine A. Johnson a born resident of Tallahassee, Florida and father Bennie Gardner; I have a brother Omar A. Johnson and two sisters Melinda Johnson-Knox and Selena Johnson. My family and I moved to New York in 1972 and we were raised in Bronx on 141st Street and St. Ann’s Avenue in building 592 on the 5th floor. My oldest sister Selena had stayed in Florida and refused to move to New York with my mother and my sister Melinda was born a few months before my mother died, so it was just my brother and I. As youngsters, my brother and I were considered as nerds and poor folk, my mother didn’t have a job or no real money when we first moved out here, so Medicaid and Welfare was our way of life for a while. My brother and I were nearsighted children an wore thick coke bottle glasses, my vision was and still is-1800 by-1950 and due to the fact we were poor my mother would get hand-me-down clothing from the nearby Churches, bell-bottom slacks, large butterfly collared shirts and pointy toe shoes, so you can imagine, I was looking like Roger Thomas from “What’s Happen’n”, we were teased for a long time in our lives as little kids but we learned how to deal with that and move on with our lives, especially after my mother died and we were forced to live life on our own terms. As you read these experiences keep in mind all the detailed information I’ve just given you, and realize how I didn’t let anything even my condition stop me from living my life as a normal person.

CHAPTER ONE

The Latch Key Kid

The Homemade Playground—I never understood the term Latch key Kid, until I got older. Why was I so interested in that phrase? Because based upon recent family discussions, I found out I was one. Being a Latch key Kid was the phase used for kids that didn’t go outside, their lives revolved around being in the house. I mean other kids in my life had from point A to point B destinations, they would go to school and after school say outside, go to the park, hang in a friend’s house and some wouldn’t even go home. My point A to point B was to school and back home on time. It wasn’t that my mom’s was mean she was a bit over protective today I call it “eccentric” (crazy). You see back then her over protectiveness use to make me upset because I couldn’t understand why we were not allowed to go or do things that normal kids did! At that time the closest we got to being outside was our bedroom window. My brother and I would take our action figures and go to the window and play the games that we saw the other kids playing outside with their toys, hence, the action figures were our friends get it. The kids outside (I know this to be a fact) thought my brother and I were retards, because every time they looked up to our window they would see us jumping around in our underwear, bear chested with socks on talking and playing with these action figures Spider-man and Captain America. My Brother and I did not give a fuck that was good sport for us. In school all I would think about was getting home to snatch the mattresses off the beds and make a slide for us and the action figures (you don’t know how much fun that was to us), here you got this mattress in a 45 degree angle I’m at the bottom and here comes this fucking Spider-man rolling down hitting me in my fore head and my brother big ass tumbling behind it as other action figures came falling down behind him, now that I remember, I think we were a little eccentric (crazy) too.

You must understand being a Latch key Kid you had to know how to invent shit. Our bed and those mattress’s where multifunctional, it also severed as our fortress, we would put the mattress in that same 45 degree angle and crawl in to the triangular cave, with our moms flashlights and some goodies we stole from the kitchen at night, (mind you when we did that we was supposed to be sleeping) the guest list at our cave party’s were me, Spiderman, Captain America and my brother, o yeah we even invited the V.I.P’s the rubber Muhammad Ali and the Lone Ranger with the missing leg (we stood him up against the cereal box) and like clockwork when the party started popping it always ended with a bang. All you would hear was “DIDN’T I TELL Y’ALL FUCKING ASS’S TO GO TO SLEEP!” And after that history was made, It was like waking up a sleeping bear, all you saw was this big black silhouette getting larger coming in your direction, then you heard the sound of something like Santa’s jingle bells and then it got quiet, BANG, mattresses, Sheets, goodies, naked ass and action figures was all over the place. Its nights like that, until this day I still feel I have not recovered from. Oh yeah and the goodies, the cereal and shit we had to eat that the next day no matter if it was in the box or not. I told my bother we should have quit when we attempted that chilling in the bat cave party shit. That was why the Lone Ranger’s leg was missing now, by the way Muhammad Ali took a loss on his head piece that night, so now we were two for two, remember there were four action figures, not to mention the fact, our personal walks were different that next day when we went on our way to school, so those party’s quickly ended.

The Babysitters— during these latch key years of the 70’s and 80’s, I can still remember my mom getting her first job at this club called “The Smoke Stack”. We didn’t go there but from what we were told, mom was a hostess and barmaid there. When it was time for her to go to work she would hire these teenage neighborhood girls she knew to babysit us, the three girls that I would never forget was Kim, Murl and Charlene. The reason why I will not forget these girls is because of the things they did to my brother and I, these girls were teenage child molesters. When it all first started out my mom would leave to go to work (at first it was just Kim and Murl, Charlene came into the picture later on) then Kim and Murl would call and have guys come over to hang out with them in our house and I’m sure my mother didn’t allow that but she didn’t know. Once the guy’s came over Kim and Murl would lock my brother and I in our bedroom and make us go to sleep but who could sleep with them being loud, partying and carrying on in the living room. Thank God for neighbors, because that type of behavior came to a halt when my mother was informed about what was going on in her house, so she put her foot down with Kim and Murl and all that boy shit stopped. A week later Kim and Murl were asked to babysit again but this time they came with another girl her name was Charlene, now Charlene was nasty and every other word that came out of her mouth was fuck, now let me tell you something so we are on the same page, Kim and Charlene were seriously good-looking, light skinned, medium builds with asses to match and Murl was tall and kind of average. I’m not saying we were perverts but we were at that curiosity stage and wanted to know about things, I mean what 9 and 10 year old kids you know that aren’t a little fresh. Sure we wanted to see breast and ass, but just to see them was enough for a 9 and 10 year old, they took it to another level.

That night Kim and Murl went out and Charlene asked us if we wanted to stay out in the living room with her until they came back from the store and we did. Charlene then tells me to come and sit next to her on the couch and told my brother to sit on the floor in front of the television. Charlene asked me “what do you know about girls?” and of course me being nine I said some stupid shit I said “a lot” Charlene laughed and said “no you don’t, so what is this?” (Smiling and laughing), now I’m a little shy like from her asking me this question but when I turned around to answer her, she had her button down shirt open and her bra pulled up, I was embarrassed but at the same time interested in what I saw. I responded to her “those are tities” and my brother quickly turned around with a bewildered look on his face. Charlene then told my brother to turn around and watch the TV in a mean voice “I’m talking to your brother right now your next” then she asked me “what are they for” I said “I don’t know, that’s what makes you a woman” Charlene said “no stupid these are for boys to suck on, don’t your mom’s teach y’all anything” now in my mind I’m like for real, that was definitely one to grow on. Charlene then said “look down here, what is this?” I said “that’s your pee thing” Charlene then said “damn you dumb, this is for boys to put there ding-a-lings in” I said “what! When I grow up I have to put thing in there, why?” Charlene said “because all girls like that, it makes them feel good” I said “Oh”. Just then Kim and Murl came back so Charlene made me sit back by the TV and said as she put her fingers to her lips “shhhh”.

My brother asked softly “what y’all were doing over there?” I said “I was doing nothing she showed me her breast and peep hole” He said “ooh y’all was being fresh” I said “not me Charlene was” and then as we were talking I could hear all three of them laughing in the background I asked my brother “do you think I should tell mommy” He said “no, because all she’s going to say is your lying and smack you for even thinking like that”, Meanwhile, the stench of marijuana filled the air, the giggling got louder and the hint of booze past my nose. All three women came back in the living room Charlene said “okay boys we are going to play a game called lock-up and Lamar your first”, now I don’t know what the fuck lock-up was but I knew I was going to find out.

Charlene told me to stand up and she put my hands behind my back and made me walk towards my room, as we got to the room she put me in and close the door. I was left there for about two or three minutes by myself, I heard the music in the living room come on and Charlene came back into the room with me I said “where’s my brother? Ain’t he playing too?” Charlene said “yeah, don’t worry about him he’s in lock-up somewhere else, now sit in this chair”. I sat in the chair and Charlene started taking off her shirt and bra and said “now you are going to be punished for being a criminal”, Charlene walked up on me and said “put this in your mouth!” “Now suck on it” “don’t be scared they don’t bite” me just following orders of the game I did just that. Charlene then started rubbing on my little manhood and then laid across my bed and said “look” and started rubbing herself down there, now I ain’t going to front even though I was little I’m sure my manhood got rock solid. As she rubbed herself Charlene told me to get out of the chair and come to the bed in between her legs and said “here lick it, lick it right here” pointing with her finger, when I looked at what she wanted me to lick I saw her hairy, light skinned colored peep hole and when she held it open with her hand I saw pink and a milky substance leaking out, Charlene said “don’t just sit there lick it” gesturing with her hand “lick it slow boy right here I said” It didn’t really have a taste, a bit salty and a little like pee but it just felt nasty to be putting my mouth there, you know I’m 9.

Charlene then got off the bed, slid back into her clothes and said “you stay right here”, as Charlene walked out, a minute later Kim walked in and instantly stripped down an told me to get on top of her and go up and down, now I’m in shock because I’m in some nook but right now I was not liking it, it felt nasty and degrading but at the same time I was like “wow” this is new, I was like “oh shit” in mind, what is going on, I mean, I knew what was happening but I could not believe it was happening to me at such a early age, these were things I only saw in books and the tapes that George would seek and let us see (just been a boy). When Kim finished she got dresses and took me into the living room, when I got to the living room Murl was still having her way with my brother on the living room floor and Charlene was smoking a blunt watching and laughing.

As time passed on, this form of molestations continued to happen, I can even remember events such as cops and robbers (cops would arrest the robber “us” and instead of being lock up we had to do other things as a form of punishment), hide and seek (during this game we would hide and the one that got found had to do sexual things with the finder, while the other one was in hiding) and TV role playing (being some of the new games introduced to us with a sexual twist). we never told our mother because I knew she would kill them and to be a little honest we got use to it, we saw it as a form of entertainment not knowing we were being molested and hey someone was paying attention to us, but this event in my life would scare me forever and cause me not to be able to differentiate sex from love.

The Battle—you see when you are a latch key kid you stay in trouble at home my brother and I was always getting our ass’s kicked for something. A time that definitely comes to mind and remains unforgotten, was the time we thought we would take it upon ourselves to burn down the enemy fortress. It was Spider-man, Captain America and the one legged Ranger against G.I Joe with the kung fu grip, Optimus Prime and all the green and beige Cowboys and Indians (the ones that came in the big plastic bag from Woolworth). At this time we were introduced to a new bed, a couch pullout bed, the threaded tweed material with the cotton stuffing on the inside. My brother and I had this bed for a minute now, so the tweed strings were starting to hang around and it had two medium sized holes in it from past action figure battles. In to battle like a Sherman tank there stood my sanitation garbage truck brand new, green and white, black rubber Mag wheels designed by Tonka, this shit was official. I got it for Christmas with the Cowboys and Indians.

The green and beige Cowboys and Indians had the top perimeter thoroughly covered, while G.I Joe with the kung fu grip and Optimus Prime were getting busted down by my mini army on the bottom. In my imagination it was impossible to get those damn Cowboys and Indians on the top so I had an idea “I’ll burn and smoke them out”, these were the kind of fucking idea’s us latch key kids come up with, when we spent too much time in the house with no adult supervision. I saw a tweed thread hanging and decided unbeknownst to my brother this was my victory move right here, strike, strike, strike and the tweed was lit burning like a fuse on a stick of dynamite, “it’s on now”. My brother noticing I made this “with his stupid ass, instead of telling me to stop because he was older, celebrated with me as the fuse burrowed itself into the cotton about to blow down the Cowboys and Indians. Next thing we heard was a song in the background playing in the living room on the Zenith stand up and turn television set with the lighted up orange dial and black numbers. It was a classic Michael Jackson Tune, the tune we heard went: bah-bah bah babah, bah-bah bah babah, oh baby give me one more chance, it was the Jackson 5 cartoon theme song, at that time the cartoon was a must see. My brother and I jetted out the room like bats from hell, mad happy like this cartoon wasn’t on just that morning, forgetting that the tweed string burrowed itself into the cotton, by this time I had set three threads on fire. We put out all three, “you know safety first”, then we hauled ass to see that episode. Now from modern day physics we all know that once cotton is on fire it’s a wrap to put that shit out especially when the embers on the cotton tips are still lighting on and off, it’s like burning rubber.

Just like two groupies in a trance we were watching this episode faithfully; the Cowboys and Indians were facing the hottest summer blaze they could ever imagine if they were alive. All of a sudden we smell smoke and notice this grayish cloud hovering above us, we gave each other the look, “yep we fucked up” as the Jackson 5 cartoon sang its outro we scurried to the room like two retarded, non-experienced firefight like we was going in to handle this blaze. I pushed open the door all I saw was black charcoal flavored smoke take over the whole apartment, shit stopped being funny and heroic then, I started to cry, not because of the fire, but because of the fire that was coming in the door and saw the smoke filled house and back wall and couch burning, my ass even started crying, once again it was on.

I performed like an idiot as I dived on the bed with a pot of water hoping to drown the flame, but it was too crazy. I looked for things to save, where’s Captain America and Spider-man, from what I saw I did accomplish my mission from all the green and beige gook I saw on top of the burning chair, oozing down the wall and bed frame, I won the battle, now can I handle the war. After we were rushed out of the house the firemen proceeded to tear shit up even shit that wasn’t on fire “bastards”, when all was said and done they brought me out my sanitation garbage truck at least that what it was before the fire. I chalk this shit up today as another fucking latch key kid moment.

Paper Planes— A year after the fire incident we were introduced back to our room, before that our bedroom was the living room, we spent our Christmas and New Years there. Upon being introduced back to our room we were happy, it was freshly repainted and my mom purchased us a new bed. After all the new bedroom euphoria wore off and things started to return back to normal our latchkey syndrome phase returned immediately. When you’re bored, you tend to do things that you think are entertaining, not really giving it a second thought to the dangers of some of the boredom fighting solutions that you come up with.

One day my brother and I were sitting in our bedroom window watching the other children play in the park. Our window faces from the side of the building, and was indented in a half moon setting. Under our window was a lot or as we called it a junkyard and when it rained, standing water from the rain would create a small pond on the ground that existed for days. Small creatures, especially mosquitoes would inhabit this standing water pond and the smell of rotting meat, mildew and fungus would fill the air and would come through all the windows that resided on that line. We hated that smell and if it was hot “oh my god” you would think somebody died down there. People on our line use to throw small garbage out of the window and the Super of our building would constantly complain about it, but the people in my building didn’t give a fuck, they were already pissed about the raise in rent, the lazy cleaning and conditions of the building, but our building was still one of the cleanest on our block. I loved it.

It was a cool Saturday afternoon / evening and the latch key boredom has now kicked into overdrive, so my brother made a suggestions “hey let’s make and fly some paper air planes out the window and see how many of them make it to the park” I looked at this fucking man as a fucking genius, I would have never thought about flying airplanes out the window, I mean we would make them and fly them around the house, but out that window that took balls and pure genius. See, my mother warned us about throwing things out of the window she wasn’t with that shit, she would say we are contributing to the odor that came through the window, and she didn’t want to be accused of being part of that in any shape or form, for my brother to even go that route took balls he was in his rebellion stage.

As we started the airplane game, we watched as the planes soared threw the sky, some made it to the park, you got 2 points for that and some crashed and burn into the muck under the window, you got-1 point for that and some even got stuck in the gate that separated the park from the junkyard, for that you got extra points, like 5. All kinds of planes were made in this game, you had your classic triangular pointy plane, and then there were the Concords with the bended tips, the gliders which were designed from half pages and the jet planes that had the tale ripped to allow air to flow extra through the back for a better wind glide.

The plane game got boring as we accumulated the points to about 100 to 89 in his favor. We had to find a way to make this game more interesting and just as I thought this fucking genius came up with the plan of action, “hey lets set the planes on fire and see whose plane makes it the furthest in flames” this was sure to bring the point values to triple that’s what I needed, this dude is a fucking genius of all genius’s. As we set the planes to blaze, from tip to end, some flew marvelously, but this time none made it to the gate, because once in mid air the fire would engulf the paper airliner and send it plummeting on some passenger 57 shit, this happened 99% of the time to the paper birds.

As we continued to terrorize and smolder these paper creations, more and more of them began to plummet from the gate straight to the muck under the window. As the paper assault continued we didn’t realize that the super didn’t clean the garbage down there for a week, he was out sick and there was a beautiful pile of dry everything down there. The plane game got boring again and things started to really heat up, as the last plane went down smoke started to come up, I started having déjà vu, I remember something like this happening before.

A heavy banging came on our door and someone said “y’all open this fucking door” Of course I did and my mother went straight to our window looked out and low and behold the pile of garbage was now a towering inferno, ash, soot, burnt garbage and fossilized planes were everywhere and the standing water that rested under that garbage was still there. The Super hopped out of his sick bed and was down there fighting this scorcher with rakes and water from the neighbors from the 1st floor, shit I didn’t know who the fuck put a mattress down there.

Can you imagine he’s down there fighting this fire and blazing paper planes keep coming down like rain, he must have been under attack down there? So after my mother scanned the scene we faced the music, that wasn’t the only fire going on that day. We were singing like two Indians, rain dancing and everything, now the assault was on us, at the same time of the assault we were constantly being reminded of the battle that forced us out of our room the first time. The latch key syndrome definitely had to be cured; I couldn’t stand any more of these ass whippings, my ass becoming flat (but at the moment he was a fucking genius).

Baked Ass Over Easy—An event that also comes to mind I feel I must share, was the way we prepared ourselves to go to school, one morning in particular, we were preparing to go to school and we did our normal routine. We would get up retrieve our iron clothes from the closet, separate them out on the bed, make cereal or eat whatever was for breakfast, take a shower, lotion up, get dressed, pack our lunch and leave for the school bus that waited down stairs. This particular day in question was cold, and you know on those cold winter days, you tend to be sluggish because you don’t want to get up; you want to stay under the covers and stay warm. All of a sudden I heard “let’s go get y’all ass up school time”. My brother like clockwork starts coughing “cough” “cough” he only did this when he wanted to stay home, then you heard ‘I don’t want to hear that shit put your clothes on and get out”, then I heard “awe man”. My brother got up with an attitude, now he’s stomping threw the house complaining about how cold it is, I tried to put his mind at ease by saying “it’s not that cold and once we get dressed we’ll be alright”, he gave me a look like damn that I’m cold now as he threw his cereal bowl on the table, splashing sugar smacks everywhere, acting as if he just did the toughest thing a nigga could do, then I heard “what was that?”, I was sure he was on his way to getting fucked up by her, then he replied “nothing”. What a punk, what happen to all that tough tony shit he was just doing? I’m serious for one minute that fucking genius was like a John Wayne or Bob Backlund to me, in my mind. I was like “oh shit he’s tight now”, but then after hearing her voice that John Wayne turned into Jon B. My mother had turned on the stove to warm up the house that morning, due to the fact he had an attitude he closed the stove door when he first entered the kitchen 15 minutes ago. All attitudinal and upset, while I was waiting for my water to boil for my maple brown sugar oatmeal, he decided to open the stove and sit down because he was so cold.

As he bent down to sit 2.3 seconds later he was back on his two feet, remember he had on tidy whities from fruit of the loom. My brother stood there in shock and in pain, I wondered what the fuck was wrong with him all of a sudden he wasn’t complain about the cold or nothing he was just stiff mannequin style with a tear falling down from his eye. I said “what’s wrong?” “Why are you about to cry?” As he turned around slowly I noticed on his tightly whities a brown, crispy like image forming and the more he turned around the bigger it got, then it started turning pink with red dots, I smelled and seen something cooking on the stove door and a partial part of his undies was still there. I said “what the fuck is that shit?” As I got closer and closer I realized that; that was his ass! I immediately called my mom so she can witness what this fool has gone and did now.

I’m not going to front after I knew he was fine, I went in the bathroom got dressed laughing my ass off. My brother didn’t have to go to school that day, my mom was taking him to the doctor, or did he. Now I’m sitting in math class, because even though he was older than me, we were very smart, genius, nerd like students, that the school put us in the same math class Algebra 101. I just finish telling the teacher that my brother wasn’t going to be in school today because he was sick, and who the fuck comes walking in the door, my mom with my brother in hand and what does she do? She explains to the teacher what had happened and I don’t know if she was paying attention or just didn’t give a fuck, that there were 24 other people in the classroom, when she turned my brother around and pulled down his pants to show the teacher what happened, I was embarrassed cause when I looked up all I saw was this fat, shiny, lumped up, pink and brown, red freckled ass cheeks separated by a brownish line going down the middle, It was shiny because of the ointment the doctor had put on his ass. I sunk down into my table. All you heard was “Ewe, Oh My God, Jesus, What happened” and all kinds of sympathy shit, so why the fuck was I embarrassed it wasn’t my ass, I guess I was embarrassed for him, he is my brother you know. I asked my mom’s why didn’t she do that when I got home, first she told me mind my fucking business, I guess I came out kind of aggressively because I was upset, but then she went on to explain that she had to cause at that time ACS was BCW and they were snatching up children like crack heads getting free crack, after her explanation I left that alone, made fun of my brother’s ass until it got better, but look at it this way he didn’t want to go to school anyway and chalked this up as another latch key kid moment in my life.

The Yellow Bus—The school my brother and I attended was about a block and a half from our home but one day our school decided it was closing and all the children that attended the school would be bused to next zoned school on the list so from P.S. 29 on Courtlandt Avenue in the Bronx, I was sent to P.S. 75 on Faile Street in the Bronx. Now the school we was going to me, Alvin, Amburst and the rest of the crew would meet up and walk to, not to mention stop by the store and get our down-low goodies together but this school was in the Hunt’s Point area and due to the fact my brother and I didn’t go outside I didn’t have no sense of direction and was forced by my mother to take the Yellow bus while all the rest of the crew walked. For the next few weeks my brother and I would get ridiculed by the crew as we stood outside and waited for the Yellow bus, they would say things like: “ah ha look at them waiting on their yellow limo”, “did y’all ice cream bus show up yet?” or “Don’t say nothing to them they are retarded now”. I mean, how cruel can you be but that was the life as a juvenile, one minute you was hot and the next minute you were not. The bus pulled up and this lady called a Matron came out and said our names and said “y’all come on get on the bus; the bus driver has to make a few more stops”. I got on the bus and noticed a lot of these kids were disabled or handicapped, now my brother and I didn’t see ourselves as handicapped but now we understood why we were pick out of all our friends to ride this bus, it was because we had bad vision and were considered handicapped so we must have qualified and they didn’t and that’s why they were probably upset because we were getting a ride to school and they had to walk but I didn’t understand that then.

I entered the bus and started feeling sorry for some of the kids I saw and within time I befriended some of them like Edwin, Ramone' and Tonya they were cool and shared some of the classes I had. I was still being ridiculed by my friends and one day I made a stupid decision and said I’m going to walk home with my crew to show them I was still down. After school the bus shows up an my brother and I got on, I said to the bus driver “my mother said I can walk home today” he said are you sure I said “yes” and the bus left, now I didn’t confirm with Alvin and them that I was walking with them today so I stood outside and waited for them but to my surprise they never showed up, what was I to do now? I began to use my photogenic memory of how the bus traveled and tried to remember some of buildings and structures we passed as I watched out the window, to see if anything would get me closer to my destination. I walked around the block first to see if I had seen anybody or if anyone was going my way but everyone was gone, so I headed down the block of Faile Street, I spotted the Bruckner Expressway then headed that way. As I walked down Southern Blvd, I decided to make a right turn, later deep into the walk I realized that was the wrong thing to do. I asked a passerby if I was going in the right direction and he proceeded to send me right back in the same direction I came from. I walked down that street again and saw St Mary’s Park but this was the back end of the park and I have never been this far out before, but this time I was instructed to walk through the park to the other side and I was very scared to walk through the park alone so early in the morning, this was the time of The Son of Sam and I was terrified. My mind started playing tricks on me, I was sure for me being defiant and not taking the bus the Son of Sam was going to get me, it was mental karma.

My walk through the park was creepy and nerve-racking, everywhere I walked people were watching me as if they knew I was scared. I was in the public eye so even though I was afraid I felt a little secure, that all ended when I saw the only way to get to the other side was to cross through the forest that was in front of me. I hesitated for a long time, at least a good two minutes which seemed like an eternity to make my decision. I got it I will run, I started to run through the forest at top speed all I heard was the crackling of wood chips beneath my feet, my heart beating extra loud, singing crickets, birds whistling and the wind howling, I could now swear that someone was following and I knew it was the Son of Sam, and like a movie actor I started falling all over the place, I even dropped my book bag twice. It seemed like I was never getting out of these woods, then I thought, was that person that told me to go through the woods, was he, the Son of Sam?, "Oh shit, I fucked up", I said to myself and picked up top speed. I was running no lie, at jet speed until I tripped and fell down a rocky mountain slide and when I looked up and thought I was caught I was on the other side by the baseball field five seconds from my house. I finally made it to school dusty and lumped up but from that day on I bet you I was back on that bus, I didn't tell anybody just dusted myself off and went to class.

The New Thomas Edison—Being older now but still under lock and key, I tended to discover new ways to entertain myself. At one time I took up art, I was inspired to do this from watching Good Times and Bob Ross on television and watched as J.J. Evans use his artistic skills to get out of the Ghetto, I wanted to be the J.J. Evans of the hood; I would draw everything around the house, from the furniture in the house to what I saw outside the window, I could even draw pictures of people from actual photos. My main forte was drawing comic book Superheroes, I was an expert fascinated by the perplexed design, curvature and preciseness of the body design showing strength, the shadowing causing a 3d contrast between light and dark and the emotional facial features and structure. My mother at this time was dating a man who called himself Sonny “Liston” Knox, we knew him as “Dick”. Dick had just come back from the army, he served in the Vietnam War which lasted about fifth-teen years and he was familiar with the fact that I liked to draw. Dick gave me this thick, white book, it had like 200 pages and on the cover it had a bunch of DC and Marvel of Superheros, I thought it was a big comic book at first but when I read the page cover inside it said “how To draw DC and Marvel comic book heroes”. This book was the actual blueprints on how to draw most of the Superheroes like Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, Thor, The Flash, The Silver Surfer, Captain America, The Hulk, Wonder Woman and The Fantastic Four Characters etc. Dick said he got it from a soldier in his platoon, when they were at the eastern coast mainland of Southeast Asia. I fell in love with this book and kept it by my side at all times, it was like my bible.

See Dick was a slick dude whenever he wanted to sleep with my mother he would bring us gifts like: the book and sometimes money, he even paid our friend George to take us to the movies at times. There were even times I would get mad because I didn’t like my mother having sex, but you know, I was just being over protective of her and when they did have sex I would sit around her door, not listening but doing other things like drawing or reading the back of record albums. I was and still is a great artist, in seventh grade, I was enrolled into a special art class and was asked to participate in a State art contest with 30 other contestants, I came in third my cousin Norman came in first, our designs hung up in a school dedicated art museum, I wonder if that place still exists, and if it does is my picture still there now? As an artist I excelled, I went from drawing in my home to doing hot b-boy tag ups on the walls outside (Graffiti).

My latchkey syndrome had its benefits, I became a jack-of-all-trades. My next venture took me to electronics, I would pick up broken radios, VCR’s, led’s and all kinds of on and off switches from around the house or out of the garbage on the street and construct battery powered things that actually worked. I would build things like: windmills, mini conveyor belts, replace parts and fix broken radios and cassette players. Me feeling my oats, I decided to join the school’s Science Fair, I came in second place, with the now old school rotating nine planets invention. I was a self-proclaimed wiz when it came to fixing things, one I wasn’t afraid of things blowing up, I was using battery power and two I always double checked and thought out my connections but I eventually graduated, stepped my game up and started fucking around with DC power from the outlet. I was fixing radio and TV sets while they were still plugged in the walls and the things would start to work as I was fixing them. People even my mother would bring me simple stuff to fix but she had always told me not to play with the electricity in the house, so she never knew that I had come out that closet already, I mean my brother knew, he knew everything I was doing and I knew all his moves, we kept in sync on each other’s house dirt, that’s how we got each other to do stuff, the blackmail thing.

One day I found a glass cutter in my mom’s kitchen drawer and decided to peel the cap off of a new light bulb to see if it would still light up but I didn’t have it in a lamp, so I connected one wire to the screw base and the other wire to the mesh under the light bulb and secured it with white masking tape and then laid it on the floor all exposed on some lined notebook paper, would you know that shit worked, my brother dubbed me as Lamar Dexter Edison after the famous Thomas Alva Edison but about five minutes later it blew out and the notebook paper sent a scent of burning paper and ash into the air. My mother said “what in the hell is that smell” we said “nothing” she said “Y’all better not be in their playing with fire” we said “no we are watching TV that smell is coming from outside, we have the window open” my mother brought that shit and continued to watch “The Price Is Right” I moved on with my quest for knowledge. I always believe the outlet had a lot to do with making things operate, so thinking back to light bulb I said to myself “hey if this plug can make this light work can it make and orange glow, now remember I don’t know shit about positive and negative charges all I knew was you put this wire here and the other over there and whatever I do don’t let them touch each other.

I told my brother to get me an orange from the refrigerator, he excitingly did it, he confidence in me none of my experiments have failed so far, he believed I was on to something, he such a fucking supportive genius. My brother came back with the orange and a knife, I poked two distant holes in the orange, I then inserted the two wires, placed the orange about four inches away from my face and as the drums rolled proceeded to plug it into the outlet. I plugged it in the orange radiated and the sounds of rice krispies filled the air, this fruit was really sizzling inside but once again it worked it lit up. As I basked in my glory, the experiment took a wrong turn, all of a sudden the orange blew up in my face, I couldn’t see shit, and all I saw was colors, red, purple and powder blue. I staggered into my mom’s room and when I looked at her she was glowing purple, I said “Ma I can’t see” nervously as she said “what the fuck is going on back there as my vision faded in an out then, started to clear I noticed everything in the house was off and all I heard was mom’s cursing and stomping around the house heading for the circuit breaker. Moms clicked a few buttons and everything came back on for about two seconds another pop came through and shut her down again, now she was already pissed but she still didn’t know what was going on. When she turned on the circuit breaker for the second time, she notice a fiery flash, kind of like a picture being taking, form our room, so she went to investigate what was going on. All we heard from the room was “oh shit, what the fuck and thing like in going to beat the shit out of y’all”). Now me still trying to recover from the colorful show that my eyes where having, didn’t really have time to worry about getting my ass whipped, I was hoping that I would not be stuck seeing this way for ever, because what I thought was it clearing up was actually getting worse. I didn’t see it coming, but I felt it and all I could do was run, but the problem was I was hitting dead ends and walls. I could tell she use an extension cord, it was the same one I had plugged in the wall, I figured all this out after taking a serious, sizzling and painful nap, boy can tears really clear the eyes, the next day as I looked at my bruises I still was dubbed Lamar Dexter Edison.

New Found Freedom—my mother now had a new job and a new man in her life his name was Levi. Levi was a cool guy, he was from South Carolina, he ate green peanuts, you know the ones you have to salt and boil and he love the shit out of watermelon, the whole ones. Levi spent a lot of his time coercing my mother to let us go outside, sometime it worked and sometimes it crashed and burned (I guess he could get sex the way he wanted to with us in the house all the time). My mother finally gave in, it was the summer of 82’and man was it hot, a heat wave was kicking the world’s ass, but thanks to Levi we were sort of free, I mean we still had the earliest curfew on the block but anytime overshadowed no time, understand. Our days would start off by going to all the schools in the neighborhood to eat free breakfast and lunch it was me, my brother, Alvin, Amburst, T-Roy, Andy, Keith and his little brother Bryant. See at this time in history there was a thing called a crew, a posse or gang of some sort and we did everything together every day. Our crew would do normal things that other crews did but we would also do shit that didn’t make any sense things like: jumping off high two story cliffs in the backyard onto mattress’s we found in the street, sometime one, sometimes two, eating red berries off the gated hedges that surrounded the public school, collecting grasshoppers from the nearby church’s yard to feed the Tarantula in the pet shop, doing stupid shit to each other to playing football or tag on the freight train tracks on Jackson Avenue.

A day in particular comes to mind when I think back to these times, the great toy robbery. The Smurfs cartoon was the hottest cartoon on television; everybody in my hood had some type of Smurf article, whether it was a t shirt, jacket or poster but one day a guy was coming down the block and he was selling a rubber Smurf statue, we wondered where did he buy that? Alvin walked up to the man and asked him, he said he got it from the toy factory, they were giving them away. I said “wow! They have a toy factory over here where?” He said “in the back of that school I.S 155 on Jackson Avenue”. We were always on Jackson Avenue playing on the freight train tracks, we never heard of or saw a toy factory there, even when I attended school over there. One day we were playing tag on the freight train tracks as usual, and Alvin decided to climb up the opposite side of the wall so we couldn’t catch him, he went to the top and he saw this place that would later on be described as the toy factory. This place was as big as a castle, it had large gray doors that opened horizontally and rested right next to the large body of water that connected to the Hudson River. We watched on as the truck drivers loaded boxes into the place and wondered what was in those boxes. The next day we went back but this time not to play tag, we went to watch the boxes that were being loaded into this place again but this time we went in closer. We ran into one of the workers and he told us this place is the Bronx Toy Factory, we manufacture and store toys here for delivery to the stores out here, as he talked we watched on as he load a box into this horizontal opening an leave it these, he then proceeded to give us an outside / inside tour, and gave us each a Wiffle ball and a plastic bat. The following day we went back, no one was there so Alvin and Troy decided to pry apart the horizontal doors to our surprise there was a box sitting there, we went inside and opened the box and it was full of non-colored Smurf, we grabbed a bunch of them and ran, each of us holding about five Smurfs a piece. We got back to the block and sold most of them to the kids on the Ave.

Knowing now that we had a money making scheme we started getting carried away, we went back every other day to bag up Smurf, Fire trucks and other toy material, I guess it was the same box that week because now that box was empty we took that last goods that were there. We waited about a week and decided to see if a new box was there, to our surprise there was a big gray storage bin inside and it was full of action figure, wiffle ball sets and teddy bears, we were sure we jack some of those things we were going to make a killing on the block. I was a little nervous that day I stood on the side as my brother and the rest of them attacked the bin an ran out of the doorway with mad shit, all of a sudden we heard “hey” and we took off like bats out of hell, dropping mad toy’s as we ran. We headed for the tracks, jumped down and I watched as they scaled the other wall that lead to our area, for some reason that day I couldn’t get up the wall as I attempted to climb the wall I banged my ankle on a rock, now I’m in pain and they were screaming “come on L, come on” then I heard L grab my hand the train is coming, as I turned to the left, tunnel that was in front of me was black and it had a small but growing bright light, the train was getting close fast. This wall was one and half-stories tall and now I’m panicking I can’t reach no one’s hands for shit. The whistle on the train started honking and that sent a bone chilling rush through my nerves, I’m sweating, crying and in a state of sever panic and all of a sudden as if I was plastic man I threw my hand in the air and caught another hand and another hand caught me also and I was pulled up. As I was hoisted up I could feel the wind whooshing across my legs as the train passed by. God pulled me up in the nick of time. I never got back on the tracks after that day, this was my first near death experience and I was very thankful to have survived it.

The Story of T-Roy—As far as us doing things to each other I mean the cruelest but funniest thing I can remember is teaching T-Roy a lesson about being greedy. T-Roy was the youngest in the crowd he was ten, we had mad love for T-Roy, and the only thing we didn’t like about him was that he was very greedy; you couldn’t stick shit in your mouth around this nigga he would always want some. It wasn’t that T-Roy didn’t have any food or money he was just greedy, he would eat his shit and not offer anybody a crumb and then have the nerve after he finished his food and ask for some of yours. Now T-Roy was cool, He could dance his ass off and the ladies even the older ones found him kind of handsome, he just was selfish and greedy. One day we all went to free lunch in Alexander Burger Junior High School, they served chicken that day and I’m a sucker for chicken. T-Roy must have ate at home before he came with us because he didn’t eat his lunch so I asked him since you’re not going to eat that chicken let me get it, He said no and threw it in the garbage, this really pissed me off because whenever he wanted something from us we gave it to him but his selfishness tweaked my nerve that day, I was going to get his ass back.

This day was hot and my mom just hooked me up with a ten spot for my pockets, so the gang decided to go to the store to buy Ice cream and fifty cent juices, I had ten bucks so I bought a two dollar jug of Tropicana apple juice. T-Roy must have been short that day he had a juice from the lunch we had in the school earlier, you know the ones in the cup with the aluminum foil top, Yo we gigged on him but them and idea hit me like a ton of bricks, if my calculations are correct this nigga is going to start that begging shit soon and I didn’t forget the chicken incident. I told Alvin I have a plan to stop this nigga from begging all the time as I drank the apple juice the idea bubbled. I sent T-Roy to the store to get me a crumb cake, he like clockwork asked if I could buy him one too, I said to myself what fucking nerve, did he not remember what happened earlier or is he just trying to play me? T-Roy left to the store and when he came back he gave me my crumb cake, I watched him devour the crumb cake like a nigga that didn’t eat for weeks; when it was gone he just stared at me while I was holding my Tropicana Apple juice, once again here he came T-Roy said Yo Lamar can I get some of that juice Its still cold right? First of all this ignorant (he didn’t deserve the o r) ass muthafucka asked for my shit aggressively and I didn’t like the fact he even went there to question the temperature of my shit! But being the nice guy I am I gave it to him and said look take some and pass it back, don’t gurgle my shit down, we watched him like a hawk to see if he would disrespect my rule and just like the nigga I knew he was started chugging my shit down, I could tell by the air bubbles in the bottle and the movement of his Adams apple, it was going down.

As T-Roy passed the bottle back the whole crew just busted out into a frantic, hysterical and overwhelming laughter T-Roy said what’s so funny so? Alvin said how was the juice? T-Roy said a little warm, then my brother blew it up by saying “Y’all shouldn’t have done that! T-Roy said “did what?”, my brother said “nigga you didn’t taste it, they peed in the apple juice muthafucka”. Right then T-Roy’s eyes poked out, his face turned purple and swelled up like he had the Ebola virus. T-Roy started gagging and spitting all over the place, his mother came over and said T-Roy what’s wrong with you? Alvin said “he’s over here drinking pee”, Gloria slapped the fuck out of him and we were dying, he never asked me for nothing no more after that, unless he saw me bite it first, so I reached for my apple juice (nah I’m just kidding thought you was going get a two for one, aha).

Twenty From The Block - Tell me if you remember or have you ever done this, Ice Cream stick racing. I was one who lived on the inner streets of the neighborhood between the main avenues, kind of like tucked in within my area. I lived on St Ann’s Avenue in The South Bronx right down the block from the meanest and toughest section of the neighborhood Cypress Avenue. Cypress Avenue, when I was young was the place not to be on at any given time of the day, it was a shoot’em up bang-bang and highly drug infested affiliated area and my brother and I were not allowed to go that far when we were allowed outside. Now imagine this St Ann’s Avenue and Cypress Avenue equaled one city block going to the right, keep this in mind as you read further.

There was another block that was even more sinister than Cypress Avenue; this block was called Brook Avenue. Brook Avenue was our version of Murderville, everyone I knew that owed money to someone or jerked the drug dealers out of profits or had a grudge against someone that person mostly and surely died somewhere on Brook Avenue in front of Police sometime. Cypress Avenue was like a baby Brook Avenue and most beefs started on Cypress Avenue and ended on Brook Avenue. Now if you’re from the Bronx and you know of Brook Avenue, then you know Brook Avenue was the strip for everything as Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard is to 125 Street, The main Supermarket that rested in this area was called the E&B, right up the block from the E&B was 138 Street, once again if Cypress Avenue was the Baby of Brook Avenue then 138 Street was the Mecca, especially up by the six (6) train station.

There were times after shopping the facilities of 138 Street you ended up by the 6 train and this area was serious, fast paced, never quiet, packed with the neighborhood resident’s drunks, addicts, hustlers and prostitutes, yes prostitutes and the occasional Chuck-A-Luck guy. I could remember walking up Brook Avenue one time through the crowd and shots just wrung out of nowhere, everyone hit the ground, my heart raced about 200 miles a minute and my nerves caused me to cry, all you heard was “they’re spraying the block, “GET DOWN”, there were also times I would come up 138 Street and the top drug dealers would ride by in their cars and toss hails of new product (crack) into the air onto the concrete for the addicts zombieing along the streets looking for a fix, this was like an event because some addict knew this event was going to take place, spread the word throughout the addict congregation and they would post up by the Liquor store waiting for the new product drive by to place with no care in the world about who was out there and who saw them. Word spewed out quickly that the Police was aware of these events but even they were afraid and some were paid off to mind their business, this is how bad it was on Brook Avenue, it was untamed territory and no other neighborhood would contest it not even Government officials, if I saw it, I knew they had to see the carnage and wildness, but they turned the other cheek as if it didn’t even exist. Broad daylight murders and robbery ruled the streets of 138, your best bet to survive 138 Street, was to mind your business and walk as if you had blinders on, one wrong look and you were a statistic, another installment that added to my measurement of becoming a man.

Muddy Waters- The point I’m trying to make is: I still couldn’t go anywhere even though I was free from the Latch Key Kid syndrome of my home, The Latch Key Kid syndrome has now followed me outside and being caught up between two major killing zones didn’t help at all, where was my freedom. Let get back to the Ice Cream sticks, now being on the inner blocks you know when it gets hot the fire hydrant would get turned on. When the fire hydrants are turn on, if you really pay attention you notice by the curbside wavy rivers start to form along the curbs towards the gutters to drain. My brother, friends and I would utilize these hydrant made rivers to play a game called River Boat Racing. Our River Boat Racing was hood, we didn’t own real boats and the level of poverty was high so we couldn’t afford the store bought plastic or put together boats, so ingenious ideas started to form. Water Crafts came in many shape, sizes and forms; there was the Soda Top Craft, this craft would be put on to the water ,the take off would be great but once the rough river entered this open vessel it would quickly settled at the bottom of the river, I think the best soda top vessel was the 40 bottle top ,even thought when that was place on to the water it would twist and tumble get filled with water and sink but it just to a little bit long because the top was bigger duh!

Then came The Origami Paper Boats, you know the ones, the ones you made in school, to me these where the suicide boats because the minute they touched down the water quickly devoured them because the seas where to rough, there also came The Cardboard Boats, The Potato Chip Bag Boats, The Ten Cent Icy Wrappers Boats and The Coffee Cup Boats etc, but these inventions prove to be fatal on some of our asses, Why do you think these inventions failed? Answer, they would clog up the gutters and main drains, causing the water to back up forming giant beach like puddles of garbage and muddy, murky, oiled filled water that submerged the block, not to mention the shutting down of the water to the buildings to clear the drains, so now it hot as hell and because of our ingenious ideas the water is off,

Mind you, if you know your physic standing water also brings a new element to the game MOSQUITOES and FLIES. Now wait and understand: you have garbage sitting in this black muddy, mucky, sewer water which has the scent of rotted meat, dead animal, shit and piss and drunken bum ass, remember it was also about 80 to 90 degrees out, so this water is being fused with heat so it’s boiling and the smells of rotted meat, dead animal, shit and piss and drunken bum ass and sewer has now took the block hostage, we had to come up with a better way to have our races. One day it hit me, due to the fact it was Summer, Twin pops and Ice Cream on a stick was like the biggest thing being sold and upon me looking at the sticks that came with these refreshments there design enlightened me, they were light weight, had a slender build and there edges where round, which prevented them from hooking on to anything, here The Ice Cream Stick Vessel was born and in play.

We proceeded on with the ice cream stick vessel, this idea was the greatest. As the water rushed by, all

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 28.08.2020
ISBN: 978-3-7487-5546-3

Widmung:
Step Into A Pair Of My Shoes And Into The Life Of Lamar Dexter Gardner (P.K.A DJ 20/20). This Autobiographical Novel Was Written To Give You A Better Understanding Of My Trials, Tribulations, Strengths And My Struggles, Trying To Keep My Sanity And Focus Together Growing Up In The Mean Diverse Streets Of New York. Take A Walk With Me Through The South Bronx In The 70's. the Enlightenment Era, The Creation, Sex Abuse, Abandonment, Dealing With Death, Drugs, Suicide, Addiction, Music, Incarceration, Rehab, Isolation, Peace And Marriage. In This Factual, Tell-All, You Will Get A Comprehensive Compassion Of Who I Am?, My Upbringing, Beliefs And What Shifted my foundation To cause A Brick (Me) To Become Out Of Place. These Stories Are Non-Chronological Reflections Of My Rite Of Passage Into Man-Hood. my Ultimate Sacrifices, Accountability's And Truths towards the Pursuit Of Happiness. Stay-Woke

Nächste Seite