At the Corner of ignorance and irrelevance

Coming out of the corner store one morning, more than a week ago, I ran into a brother I met in the neighborhood barbershop. I don't remember his name. We exchange dap and I ask him how he is feeling and he responds in kind. As I prepare to cross the street he asks "You don't even remember me do you?"

I could sense from his posture and tone a kind of inevitable expectation that the query would be proven. At the same time, an underlying aggravation and frustration that this is the state of his life.

In other words, Bru feel some kind of way about this shit. Straight up.

Can't say I blame him. It is in our nature to want to be heard, noticed and acknowledged. When the firework that is our life lights the night sky of eternity, we all want someone to see it and, more importantly, be impressed by what they saw.

As I come to that realization, I am struck by the fact that the crime rate on this block is high. Like a weed-head in mid April in the late afternoon ... HIGH.

These brothers, most of them young, don't believe this world notices that they draw breathe. So, many of them resolve to make sure that they are seen. Even if that stance shortens their stance on this earth.

"Better to die on my feet than to live on my knees?" These cats haven't just heard this quote, they bought the damn shirt. And the monster that consumes these streets just gets stronger and stronger.

For my part, I try not to feed the beast ... "Yeah, I remember you bru. But I forgot your name, what is it again?"

A couple days later, a pizza delivery driver was shot to death across the street. To this point the only thing I can tell that he did wrong was go to work and try to feed his growing young family.