Friday, September 23, 2016

Logan is afraid of "black people". 

Oh yeah, you heard me.

He told me this when I got out of the shower to find him watching the news (the Charlotte Riots). We have never had a division of "race" in my family. Logan has never questioned the skin color of his cousins, or his half brother's brother. We've never acted differently around our black neighbors and friends. And yet, here I was forced into a very adult conversation with a 9 year old. 

I tried to explain why cops were being attacked, why they were on edge, and scared and how many of them have being targeted just because they were cops. I tried to explain why (some) black men and women felt threatened by the police.  I had to explain the ignorance of most people regarding race, equality, slavery, the assumed "oppression" of all black people and the assumed "privilege" of all white ones. I gave examples of oppressed white people, and the privileged black ones. I explained that we are all our choices, our determination, our hard work, and motivation... NOT our skin color. That while many things could try to keep us down (our skin color, poverty, having no parents, etc..) we were ultimately responsible for our own outcome in life. I had to explain that when ignorant people voice their opinions based on feelings instead of facts and the news dramatizes it, it makes us grow further apart and nothing is solved. I had to explain that most of those people had ZERO idea of what they are even fighting for; including those kids, following their sports "heroes" in kneeling during the National Anthem. They were just following along with the crowd, their friends, social media.. like mindless people unable to think for themselves.. 

Then came the questions that I had no explanation for: Why would you have a gun and not put it down when told to by the cops? Why would you break the law and rules to start with? Why were these people stealing, breaking glass, and burning things and tearing up the place they called home? Logan had a hard time understanding why they were doing all these bad things instead of doing good things to make it better. I told him I had a hard time understanding that, too. He wanted to know why they were so mad at the cop for doing something wrong when they were doing things a lot worse. He wanted to know if they would get in trouble, and I said that it wasn't likely. He didn't think that was fair either.

Finally, I had to re-assure him that there are a lot of nice, black, people in the world. That it wasn't fair to blame all black people because the ones (always seen on TV) are behaving badly; Just like it was unfair to hate cops because there are some bad ones in the mix. I wanted him to understand that it's not black v/s white, cops v/s us, but instead: it's simply good v/s evil. I assured him that good ALWAYS wins. 

When I see the behavior of these black men and women tearing up the great city of Charlotte, NC, the lawlessness, the violence, the complete disregard for each other, I'm infuriated, sickened, and saddened. BLM is doing a HUGE injustice to their own people. And frankly, African Americans should be extremely pissed off about it. We all should be. And the media.. well, the media should shut the #*!! up! Get your facts straight FIRST, report SECOND, and then leave it alone. 

Friday, May 29, 2015

Better Off A Memory

I edited this song ..without permission from Kenny Chesney. 

(I'm sure he wouldn't mind.)

I move on like a sinners prayer
I let go like a levee breaks
Walk away as if I don't care
Learn to shoulder my mistakes

I'm built to fade like your favorite song
Gettin' reckless when there's no need
Laugh as your stories ramble on
Break my heart, but it won't bleed
My only friends are pirates
That's just who I am

But you're better off a memory, than as my man.

Never sure when the truth won't do
I'm pretty good on a lonely night
I move on the way a storm blows through
And never stay, but then again, I might.
I struggle sometimes to find the words
Always sure until I doubt
Walk a line until it blurs
Buildin' walls too high to climb out

But I'm honest to a fault
That's just who I am
You're better as a memory than as my man.

I see you leaning, you're bound to fall
I don't want to be your mistake
I'm just a dreamer and nothing more
You should know it before it gets too late
Cause goodbyes are like a roulette wheel
You never know where they're gonna land
First you're spinning, then you're standing still
Left holding a losing hand

But one day I found someone
And right away I knew it's true
That all of my seekin's done
It was just a part of the passing through

Right there in that moment
I could finally understand...
That you were better as a memory, than as my man.
You were meant to be a memory.. and not my man.

Friday, September 12, 2014


I have been fortunate enough to be at the birth of all three of my nephews. As I was telling about the latest one being born, I was encouraged to document their stories. As quick as my memory is going, I'll be lucky to remember I'm even related to them in another year or two.

Andrew Christian Chapman was due to make his arrival at the end of February. Then the blizzard of 2014 came. My sister and I had joked all week that in true "Metz" fashion he would come early just because he could. That upcoming Friday was Valentine's Day and since her other two boys were born on a Friday it only seemed fitting he should be born on one as well. The ice, and snow, was frosting on the cake

We were joking, of course.

Friday morning at 1:30am I hear my sister yelling, 'It's Time!!" We were totally unprepared. Packed bag? -nope-  Driveway scraped of snow? -nope- Insurance cards and ID? -nope-. We just hopped in the car and went. (I nearly left her actually... I sorta forgot the part where you make sure the pregnant woman in labor GETS to the car! OOPS)

We head to the hospital. I'm focused, determined yet cautious, the roads are still slick from the snow the day before. That's when Christina loudly announces "this baby is coming!" I find this hard to believe at first, considering her water broke a mere 30 mins before. But between her screaming, and her previous child birthing experiences, I take her at her word and do the only thing I can. I gas it.

No sooner did I top the hill past Exit 3 when I see blue lights flashing in my rear view mirror. You know how they say you come to a crossroads in life.. I would consider this my crossroads. I have my pregnant sister in the seat beside me yelling not to stop and a cop behind me insistent that I do.  I do what seems reasonable. I have Christina call 911 and explain our situation, asking that they let the cop know I am neither a criminal, nor am I running. He can ticket me at the ER. Sounded like a good plan to me. The problem came when the 911 dispatcher couldn't find which officer was behind us, and the officer (a state trooper) decided we were convicts on the run.

*It helps if you picture this next part in slow motion. Perhaps with Morgan Freeman narrating the events: The cop has his car inches from my bumper. A spin out, his only option. We are obviously running, but from what? Are we drunk? on drugs? kidnappers? murderers? Taking us down is his only option. I can faintly hear a voice yelling something about giving birth in the car and I briefly wonder where I could find a good upholstery cleaner.  Then I think of my dad. He's always wanted to "go out" of this life in style. He's going to be jealous when he sees his girls on the 11 o'clock news.

I pull over. The cop, understanding the situation, lets us go.  He was also kind enough to call ahead to insure a wheelchair was waiting and followed us to make sure we arrived safely. After she was safe inside I apologized for the scare explaining that I had not watched enough YOUTUBE videos to deliver a baby on the side of the road. He smiled, wished us the best of luck, and didn't even give me a ticket!!

Sure enough Christina was right.. She was fully dilated and ready to deliver.  Andrew, however, had other plans and in true "Metz" fashion made his arrival in his own time.. five hours later.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Dear Stalker: This is for You.

You know who you are,

I feel stupid that it never occurred to me that you would be looking at my blog. It's a great reason to write again so thank you.

I blocked you in every way I could think of, and yet you won't go away.  Can you imagine how desperate I must have felt in order to contact your dad? Who advised me to just ignore you,  as if,  your behavior was perfectly normal. I can't stop your 'freedom of speech" as he called it.  So write what you will, but keep these few things in mind...

I know you are the one who created the fake account on Facebook and posted the derogatory comments about me on my company's page.  You are 40 years old and more pathetic than you were in High School. Grow up.

I wish I had never felt sorry for you, and tried to be your friend. I regret it.

I am NOT sorry for the last thing I said to you, and I don't take it back.

Reading your "stories" about "us" makes me physically ill. I threw up the first time I read it. But I have finally learned to separate myself from it. It's not real. It's only real in your head.

Does your wife know about your blog? Does she know that I have begged and pleaded with you to leave me alone, or that I had to block your number and have my work calls monitored? Of course she doesn't. Because your wife is crazy and if she did she would probably kill you herself.

You have a daughter that you claim to love so very much. How will you feel when the day comes that a man does to her what you've done to me? It will come and you will remember. Karma.

I don't hate you. Hating you would require me to think of you and I don't. I have no feeling towards you. I'm completely indifferent.

I will never again look at that mess of a blog. So say what you want, and do what you will. Because no matter what, you will NEVER and I MEAN NEVER get the one thing you want; my attention.


Sunday, March 16, 2014

What Happens at the Gap....

If you're wondering if this is about a recent shopping trip to The Gap... it's not.

Race weekend in Bristol; Defined as: a traffic nightmare and all around pain in my butt, nuisance. I don't leave the house unless absolutely necessary. I have no use for Nascar. I've been twice in the 30 years I've lived here. Even then, nestled in the comfort of our company suite with air conditioning and good food, I could not be won over.  The only good I found was that the constant circling motion was relaxing enough to make me fall asleep.

So how is it I found myself a racing spectator, in Bulls Gap, TN, on a perfectly good Saturday night?  "Poor judgement" comes to mind and yet, here I was.  After waiting to park, walking half a mile to the entrance, paying ($25.00.. are you KIDDING ME?) to get in and finding a seat, I was already looking for the exit. The track is dirt and I'm allergic. The man in front of me has a huge mustard stain on his shirt from his now devoured corn dog. The man (or is it a WOMAN??) sitting beside him is spitting tobacco into a bottle. I fight the urge to run. But, not one to go back on my word, I instead settle into my not so comfortable seat and prepare to take it all in.

Then the bullhorn announces, "What happens at the Gap, stays at the Gap". And just like that I realize, I'm officially in redneck hell.

As I'm thinking I've probably been here long enough to prove I'm a good friend and no one will notice me sneaking out anyway,  something strange happens. I start to enjoy it. Yeah, I said it.. I start to enjoy it!  I can feel the energy of the fans and it's contagious. I sit up in my chair a little, eager to see the cars as they enter the track for their qualifying run. I've never been this close to the track before and wasn't prepared for the intensity of the cars. They sound like jets taking off with a force that I can feel inside me.  Unlike Nascar, there isn't the mundane and smooth circling. These cars hit the turns sideways, never seeming to let off the gas.  The raw power is exhilarating. I want to run to the bottom of the fence and come face to face with my newly found love:  Super Late Model stock car racing. It is one of the coolest things I've ever seen.

My friend however had other ideas, like leaving, right that second if not sooner. So we left. But I have to say,  I left a small piece of Anna behind at the race track last night.  They'll be seeing me again soon.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Being my Friend: It's Complicated.

 "Why did you do all this for me?" he asked. "I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you." "You have been my friend," replied Charlotte. "That in itself is a tremendous thing."  -Charlotte's Web

Some things you should know before becoming my friend.

1. I suck at superficial relationships. I can be nice when necessary and polite when it's called for. But being an acquaintance and being a true friend are completely different things to me. Be clear on which type of relationship you want from me, and don't expect me to bounce back and forth.

2. It takes a while to earn my trust. We all have trust issues to a degree. Mine run deeper than most, and I can't change that. Only you can decide if it's worth it to you.

3. I'm rarely an open book. People think they know me, but few actually do. I won’t let you in without some effort... That doesn't mean I'm being fake. It doesn't mean I'm pretending to be someone I'm not. It simply means, who I am at the heart and soul of it is seen only by those I've learned to trust.  

4. If you lie to me, or betray my confidence, I will never forgive you. Ever.

5. I am loyal, often to a fault. I will stand with you, stand up for you and support you in any way I can. "There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature".

6. I enjoy being nice to people. When did this become a "fault" instead of a "virtue"? Being nice doesn't mean I'm trying to win you over. It doesn't mean I'm flirting with you. It doesn't mean I'm desperate for friends. It doesn't mean that I want something from you, or even that I want something in return. It only means that I like making people happy, and if I can do that by being nice in some way, I will. Don't take advantage of my kindness and don't take it for granted.

7. Female Friends: I have the hardest time with you. My BF once said my trust issues with women stem from a jacked up relationship with my mother, and I believe there's much truth to that.  But it also stems from years of being back stabbed, talked about, put down, betrayed, lied to, and purposely hurt by women who were supposed to be my friend.  "Girls compete with each other. Women empower one another"

8. Male Friends: I can't be your friend without a written and notarized "letter of permission" from your wife or current girlfriend. Been there, done that, not worth the never ending drama.

9. I expect a lot from my friends. (Or so it would seem) What I expect is for you to put the same amount of value on our friendship, and on me, as I do you. Be the kind of friend you would want in return.

10. If I'm hurting, or in need, I won't volunteer it. If you genuinely care, ask me! "Sometimes the strongest people cry behind closed doors, and fight battles no one ever knows about"

11. I'm sensitive.  I have a really big heart. Once I let my guard down, I love hard and care deeply.. sometimes too much. 
"The greater your capacity to love, the greater your capacity to feel pain."

12. For some people I'm not worth the effort, and that's okay!! I would much rather have an honest enemy than a fake friend.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Truths of a Woman

While I didn't write this personally (only edited for content) , it speaks truth and is worth the read! 

(If you know who wrote it--give them credit! )

There are only three things you need to know about a woman.

#1. You have to know the truth of a woman. 

And this is that truth...

Every man she has ever loved in her life has hurt her! They have abused her verbally, physically, mentally, emotionally, or all the above. Because if any of them had treated her right, then she wouldn't be available for you. It's not her fault she doesn't trust you. She can't. At least not yet. You CAN make it easier for her. Be honest. Be available. Tell her how you feel. Don't make her wonder and don't play games.
Remember when you were 16 and in love? Before the baggage and the hurt and the scars?!  That's all she wants. That's all she needs. She wants to give her whole self to someone. Someone she craves like an addiction! So how do you get her to feel that way about you? Read number two.

#2. Make her feel wanted! 

All she wants from you is..... YOU! She wants you to want her and only her.. Never stop doing the things that made her fall in love with you in the first place.  I mean you tried so hard to get her, try even harder to keep her! It only takes five seconds to say thank you, I love you, I appreciate you, I NEED you.   Make her feel needed and wanted.  And never ever forget, the more you give, the more you get back!

#3. Be who you really are!

Never pretend to be someone you're not. Be upfront, about your self, your feelings and who you are. Don't put your insecurities off onto her. If she is with you, she wants YOU. Don't make her regret it.