Showing posts with label Cam Rascoe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cam Rascoe. Show all posts

Saturday, September 24, 2022

Talking with Cameron Rascoe, Author, Creator, Poet...Servant of God... And his Book, Restless for Retribution - Getting to Know Him!


Wouldn't it be wonderful if we all tried to get together 
and really learn about all those who are...different?


I am sooo excited to welcome Cameron (Cam) Rascoe to Book Readers Heaven!  Cam is a relatively new connection that I've made on Facebook through his group, "Rascoe's Group of Artistic Friends." 

Cam, I'm so happy to welcome you to Book Readers Heaven, to talk in particular about your book Restless for Retribution...

It was only recently that I learned that you were also an author, so I've been checking out all that you offer! I loved this book! So decided to contact you to learn more...

One of the first things I wondered about was your choice of the site for the book--Pine Hills, Florida. Do you have a connection to the location? Or, would you share how you happened to choose Pine Hills for this particular book? 

Spotlight Author!
I appreciate your encouragement and insightful suggestions.  
My interest was peaked and I would like to learn more about what you do. 

Most of the stories in Restless for Retribution were written prior to 2006. The stories are raw, I was just cutting my teeth and attempting to develop my writing techniques. That work, along with a short novel Losing Love While Longing for Lust was my first completed works of literature.

Pine Hills is a community near and dear to my heart. It was my refuge, helping me to temporarily escape the vices and abuse of my less than loving parents. Being a product of an addict and a convict made for a trying existence in my youth. Athletics saved my life. It was always a slow start, I was terrible my first year of playing baseball, football and basketball. Never owning a ball or having a father to play catch with stunted my growth as an athlete. 

By the second year in each sport I was an All Star. When the crowds started to cheer my name, I saw that had value. I no longer saw myself in my parents, I could be different from them... and I would be. Third year, MVP of the football league, starting center fielder for the state baseball team and a freshman elevated to the varsity basketball team after starting the season on the freshman team.

At fourteen I was offered an opportunity to play on a sixteen and under AAU basketball team that was traveling to Central Florida. This was my opportunity to escape my life of strife and start anew in the Sunshine State. We played tournament games all over the city of Orlando, the last being played at Robinswood Middle School in Pine Hills. I knew the school was close to my late Grandmother's home; I'd enjoyed an extended visit there a year earlier. Many tears I shed after practicing all summer with the West Orange High School football team and learning that I couldn't play because I was lacking my school and medical records. My grandmother's evil husband shipped me back to my hell the first opportunity he got. 

Now back, with my school records in my hand, I informed my AAU coaches that I would not be returning up north with the team. They protested, expressed their liability risk and threatened to call my parents. I invited them to call the prison, county jail or a rehab facility if they wanted to but I was not going back.

I worked all summer washing cars on a dealership lot to save the money for my trip. I hid my funds in a coffee can on the roof to prevent it from being smoked up. Heroine and Crack kills! It kills bodies, minds, dreams and especially childhoods of youth like Cam Rascoe--Me! Again, Pine Hills was my refuge, it saved me while helping me to find myself. I would go on to graduate from West Orange High and become the MVP (Most Valuable Player) of the football team.

I still love Pine Hills for what it has offered me, unfortunately our beautiful community has deteriorated to some degree, drugs and crime. Sadly, my beloved Pine Hills is known more as “Crime Hills” these days. It breaks my heart... yet in my youth I did play my part.

Twenty-two years after becoming a resident, I penned another novel titled The Perils of The Peoples of Pine Hills, a fictional tale based on my junior year of high school. Offering encouragement and inspiration over social media provided me with a following and small fan base. Offers to speak poured in from people hosting relationship or religious conferences as well as educators requesting that I come in and speak to their classes. I gladly accepted. 

One teacher in particular struck my heart with her request. She taught at Robinswood Middle School. I met with her to go over the curriculum. Sparks flew, a family was blended and here we are twelve years later, happily married for over a decade. Just think, neither of us would have found the love of our lives if we weren't doing what we were called to do.


Doing What we are Called to do

I met the love of my life… 
doing what I was called to do.

My wife met the love of her life… 
doing what she was called to do.

Helping the children of their community
 is what brought together the two,

because they were obedient and true 
in doing what they were called to do.

A writer and an educator made a beautiful union
doing what they were called to do.

Six children gained new siblings 
to their hearts' delight
because Mommy and Daddy were… 
doing what they were called to do.

Two families fused together 
making one huge family unit only because
two of those most special people
 did what they were called to do.

A family tree was formed, 
new lineage born
 all from faithfulness to the call.


The Lord places a calling on our lives for HIS purpose and we are to comply with his wishes, in doing so you allow your blessings to flow. The love in my life is a great love that I thought I’d never find and it’s true. I never would have received such an awesome blessing if I weren’t… doing what I was called to do.

Well, readers, I hope you are beginning to see what I do and will agree when I tell you that I've asked Cam to consider being an ongoing contributor here at BRH. Cam...Keep thinking... Why don't you have a little talk with Jesus... LOL

In fact, you use many words that I've had to look up and consider how you've selected them. Take for instance, your title, Restless for Reparation... How did you arrive as that for the book title?


I am continually attempting to expand my vocabulary; the English language is a unique and beautiful tool. My most prized possession it an unabridged dictionary, gifted to me by my loving wife. I want to share what I learn in colorful yet educational ways. I don't do it often, only when necessarily beneficial to the story or lesson. No one wants to read a writer basking in his own intellectual glory. Who cares how many “big” words you know, if in the context of your writing, they have no true meaning. The title, “Restless for Retribution” came to me because I have felt the energy in urban communities after a horrible event occurs. Everyone is restless in their own way. People are confused, they are sad and inevitably mad! They don't want redemption; forgiveness is far from their angry hearts. They want revenge, retribution!


Ahhh, Cam, I, too, know that need, especially in the last years where hate has been so incited...yet, the same group refuses to even consider any laws to, for instance, stop the purchase of military-type assault weapons that are killing our children and citizens! What normallyh comes to mind is "Vengeance is mine, Saith the Lord..." but, I grow restless, too, as my years go by. I'm beginning to feel a little more patience since I've been able to get back to doing what I, just as you have, been called to do...and write about all of it... I KNOW God is in control; He is the Truth...and it will ultimately set us all free! But... sure wish it would happen a lot faster... Indeed many are restless...Some however, choose violence...and to me, that is so very scary that our children are being killed in schools, as you know... Let's take a moment to pray about it, can we?

Well, Readers, and Cam, you have now participated in A God Incident...(something that I had not previously meant to say...) Certainly He is listening to our cries and joins us in working toward peace and His Love!

I was interested in how you break down the book...As you indicated before, it sounds like you wrote this book in parts. Normally your books are short stories; however, even though each part could be considered a short story, did you work from the beginning to write a book...or did you write short stories, which then led you to merge as a novel?

When I wrote these stories I was just trying to find completion. Learning how to wrap a great story idea was something I was still learning. I started to bridge the stories and characters together. Geppetto: The Puppeteer Series and Restless for Retribution are certainly connected,but all of the stories are based in Pine Hills. That was the theme, tales of Pine Hills. I am a novelist but we live in a world where people have short attention spans and they certainly don't read for entertainment anymore. Ask a young person to read a paragraph and they see it as a punishment. I decided that I would always write short stories for my young readers who still loved literature. I wanted to give them adventure, a lesson and closure in less than thirty minutes of reading. I know that once I grab their attention, I can hold them through the climax and into the resolution which offers a lesson or spiritual message. Learning to shorten stories, trimming the fat has been valuable in my novel writing as well. I will always write short stories because it is such a rewarding exercise.

Crime is so high in Penn Hills that it is known for its crime, with warnings... Is this a reality, or does it have some basis for its nickname? Have you, or can you identify what the problem is and has there been any major effort to decrease the problem... Maybe even doing things like your book suggests...Musical Events? 

It hurts my heart to see the steady deterioration and decay of the once proud community of Pine Hills. Crime Hills is now the reality. Homeowners of the 1980's and late 90's have been replaced by renters and squatters who don't value the property on which they live or the neighborhood they are residents of. Property is no longer passed down to the next generation of a family, instead it is quickly sold or rented out to transient tenants. Drugs selling, use and abuse has been on the rise since the late 1990's leading to a drastic increase in crime over the past two decades. 


I have been living in a town over in Ocoee for the last dozen years and raised my family there. I don't want any of my six children to be exposed to the vile things I experienced as a youth. My decisions have been rewarded, each of my children are successful and good productive people in their own right. I write about and speak to the children of Pine Hills to offer motivation and inspiration, whether it be public speaking or one-on-one conversations. That event I wrote about is still a dream of mine. I would like it to be an annual event held in Pine Hills' own historic Barnett Park. It would be an annual event of healing and unity. It will come to fruition one day, God willing.


The book centers on music--first, by having a man that you call the Puppeteer, who promoted his ability to get them into a recording contract, and more... We might call him the villain. While Ras Cat Records, and, specifically Ras Cat is the lead character and savior of Pine Hills, even to the extent they called him the mayor, although they had no official position for him to fill. Actually what they were saying was that he was seen as the leader, and, perhaps, even savior... So, obviously, first, I figured you were playing the lead...and does that mean that you, yourself actually are a leader? In the community? In music, maybe? In church, maybe?

Yes, I am the Ras Cat. I was given that name in the early 90's by older men in the community because of the way I moved and things I did at a young age. There are many drawbacks to being born a product of an addict and a convict but there are great advantages as well. You gain independence early in life because you are forced to fend for yourself. Foresight, diligence, perseverance and patience are other attributes a difficult life can offer a young person. Life shapes and molds you into becoming a leader of your peers and sometimes your elders. I was dubbed the Mayor of Pine Hills in my twenties because I became a leader in my community, for good and bad, the youngest in charge. I formed a music group in the early 2000's named after an organization in Pine Hills. I hesitate to call them a gang, but they did some gangster things.

Mostly from one family, Double-O is what they called themselves, tattoos with a sniper's target each of them was branded with. Some of the younger members visited me and asked me to give them a ride to a studio. They were shocked when I got in the booth and spit a rhyme. The three of us stated making tracks and collaborating with other local groups and crews. We recorded a hand full of songs and prepared ourselves for the stage. One member was working on some solo projects and thought himself to be a front man that wasn't in need of a group. He went on his way, we parted amicably.


I talked to the older members of Double-O knowing that some of them possessed musical talent, not just felonies. I reshaped the group and we hit the studio and stage. We were joined by another Philadelphia native who was an extremely talented writer and vocalist. While producing beats, singing hooks and rhyming on stage with the group, I was hosting and throwing talent shows. 


I started managing comics while performing in a few sets myself. My Double-O Crew wasn't very happy about all the time I invested in the shows, but I never allowed anyone to alter my creative vision. 


Double-O started to falter because of members' extracurricular activities, drug use. Some members were influencing others and the party became all consuming. I felt like I was fathering grown men and the responsibility became too great. Booking studio time, producing every song, singing the hooks, writing the group's bio, marketing, promoting, booking travel and hotel stays got to be too much. I couldn't delegate much because I didn't trust anyone to get things done besides our youngest member whom I started the group with. We had a showcase in Atlanta, and we were rejoined by our original band mate for the shows. 


In the back of my mind, I knew it was coming to an end and I made a decision to force my group on stage for an additional set, bad move. The crowd responded but the AR's and promoters were not pleased. The representatives of major record labels in attendance weren't happy either. When we returned to Orlando, I slowly disbanded the group, producing solo songs for those who were serious but no longer holding the hands of grown men with too many felonies and vices.


While doing all of this I started writing. A poem of mine was published in a book “Quicksilver Under the Moon”. The poem was about my faith and deliverance prior to death “Yearning for the Light”. It was just an exercise, I wanted to give something to God, write something good. I was writing erotic stories and partnering with young female writers to write companion pieces to mine. I realized that everything I was using my talents for was serving this world and not the Lord. Writing that poem was a start to me serving God with my talents. I went on to promote, write, host and perform in a variety show featuring many artists I discovered or managed.


Hey, Cam! Interested in sharing your winning poem(s) here? BRH has hosted poetry from a lot of different people already...you're welcome to contribute!


My grandmother fell ill and for three years I was dedicated to her health, care and finances. It was a very difficult yet rewarding time for me. The time spent alone with her was invaluable, lessons, wisdom, family recipes. The responsibility fell on my shoulders because my mother struggled to stay sober and most of our family lived up north. During this time of hardship and reflection I became more spiritual. I looked to God, and he offered me answers. I promised my grandmother that I would become a novelist and serve the Lord with my talents. When she passed and I took care of her final expenses I started my Quest to find my true voice.


Years later now, I understand that all that I did when I was younger prepared me for the valuable work God has for me to do today. I am proud to say that I am a leader at my home church, Quest Church! I attended, then was asked to become a member, later my wife and I became a Deacon and deaconess. I have since been elevated to Elder. Proud member of the Outreach Team, Mission Team, Event Team, I sit in on our Session Meetings and Council Meetings to help decide the direction of the church. I am heavily involved in our Food Distribution Ministry, loading and serving. We had a huge food drive yesterday, what a Blessing it was! Oh, the joy we receive when we give and serve. 


I will be taking to the podium in an hour at church to offer announcements about a celebration we are hosting next week to celebrate all of our first responders, law enforcement, fire fighters and medical professionals. Planning and organizing this event has truly been a joy. Our pastor trusts me to write, direct and usually perform in all of our skits and plays for Black History Month. 


I also play Peter in our Good Friday Presentation of “The Way of The Cross” depicting the crucifixion of Jesus and the events that surrounded it. As well, I am writing and directing our Christmas program and play this holiday season. It is a joy and a Blessing. It is a must that I serve God with what HE has Blessed me with. So grateful am I for the grace and mercy on my life, for the discernment the Lord has given me through my trials and the opportunity to serve HIM and HIS people. Now that I am doing what I am called to do, the Lord will grant me a greater platform.


Today's music industry is more cookie-cutter than ever and it is sad because the type of music they recycle over and over is filled with negative images and destructive behaviors. There is no more diversity and if you choose to offer a constructive message or heartfelt story in your music, you are not marketed or promoted the same. 


This is especially true with Urban Music. The “Conscious Rapper” offering his heart in his music is buried while the artist who follows the trend of negativity is elevated. This has been the case for decades now. When was the last time you heard a Hip Hop song on the radio offering a positive message or something we can grow from? There are many talented female artist that wish to share their life story or struggles but if she isn't talking about her body and all of the lewd things she can do with it, her record won't see the light of day. 


A young man sharing his struggles and solutions to his shared problems is no match for the tidal wave of “artists” encouraging kids to indulge in an immoral lifestyle, wasting every dime they earn (or take) and ingesting any and every substance that might get them high. Dreamville is a label that features many artists creating alternative urban music that feels good, offers lessons and provokes deep thought. Not all of their records are positive, sometimes they sing or rap about some of the same things, but they offer diversity in their music, and it is heartfelt. 


Instead of bombarding young people with the worst messages, why not allow them some variety in their chosen genre of music? Negativity sells and the bottom line is that it is always about the bottom line not the poison we serve to our youth.



Your words reminds me of a burden I have felt for a number of years--about the time that all of these reality shows started! It seems to me that there is no real guidance in promoting all of these programs that offer big bucks to the winner, while leaving out all of the wonderful talent that we had all seen. It has always seemed to me that this has created a false goal that should never really gather so many into thinking they can earn a spot in entertainment for any length of time... How I wish that the prizes would include scholarships to SCHOOLS or some other type of educational support...Being Rich really is not what I would want any child to strive for... Hey, I think you've written about that! Too!

And, in line with that, but also related to various stories in your other books, can you talk, I hope, freely and truthfully about how you feel about justice for Blacks as continuing to be spotlighted for anything and everything that could be called criminal in order to come after them--just because of race...

Things that bring you accolades and praise in youth often cause suffering in your adult life. Sex, a wonder filled joyous activity that you engage in as often and with as many partners preferably at the same time in youth, can be viewed as lewd and obscene acts in late adolescents. A childhood indiscretion is often an adult felony. 

Short and succinct...but I believe when you are talking to those young people you mention--for surely we are all children of the King--that you can tell it like it is...in real words... Like in your books! Intriguing, but getting the point across...


From a reviewing standpoint, I've never been a fan of short stories. It is difficult to provide enough content to entice readers, while not covering the many topics that can be included in each story. I was therefore intrigued that you actually develop a theme under which your stories fit. I've already read A Mocking Tree... Each of the stories were fun to read--once I realized the title of the book... What I did was to include a definition of "mocking" to help explore the range of stories. So I was especially happy to see that in your latest book about irony, that you've added the definition up front to prepare your reader to read based upon your goal... Can you share about how you started "grouping" your stories. Was this your plan right from the beginning to publish topical stories?

Your suggestions and insight are invaluable to me; you always “get it”. 

Defining and setting a consistent theme are important when presenting a group of writings. There has to be a clear topic or purpose for them being published in the same book. With the “Mocking Tree” the focus was suspense, in each of the stories. A definition of mocking or to mock would have been helpful. That is why I offered the definition of irony for “Ironies”. “Restless for Retribution” was a series of Tales of Pine Hills. Writing short stories offers me great challenges when trying to offer a lesson or instructional tale in a limited space. It has helped me develop as a writer, saying more with less words. The goal is always to increase readership and help people to rediscover their love for literature. Everyone loves a great story, unfortunately people usually don't want to read it anymore, they want it spoon fed to them audibly and visually. My greatest joy is when someone tells me that they never read for enjoyment but one of my stories captured their interest and held it to the end of the story. This is why I write short stories of several pages and then others that are no more than a page or two. If I offer them a moving experience in less than twenty minutes of reading, it is highly likely that they will read another story that appeals to them in theme and tone. 


Cam will be visiting one more day, tomorrow, with his thoughts on writing... Do plan on stopping by!

God Bless,

Gabbie



Friday, September 23, 2022

Talking About Ironies: Truncated Tales of Irony Formed in the Creative Mind of CAM RASCOE, Spotlighted Author!


     Hypocritically Hypercritical Calvin Combs, married father of six, pillar of the community. A man of faith dedicated to the service of his fellow man, was this Calvin Combs. A motivational speaker who mentored, coached youth sports, taught Sunday School, led food drives and many other charitable acts over the years. Once a member turned Deacon in his home church, Calvin was recently elevated to Elder due to his service and dedication. Oh so proud was he of himself for the life he led. Calvin believed the Lord was pleased with his works, not bad for the product of the union of an addict and a young convict. Mr. Combs was certainly a survivor. He’d overcome dire circumstances to become a productive and contributing member of society, breaking the cycle of self destruction within his family. Calvin Combs, the rose that grew from the concrete. Patriarch of the Combs family, he was intent on providing a better life for his children than he was afforded as a kid. It was important to him that he be a great provider, protector and example of what a good Christian Family Man should be. Despite all of the good he’d done, somewhere Calvin lost himself along the way. Sins come in all different forms, they are not always in the physical. 
“Those of us who profess to be the most Holy and righteous are just as sinful as those we profess to be so much morally greater than.” CR
Cam Rascoe starts this book with:

“I believe in HIM therefore, I believe in me.” 

The Lord has Blessed each of us with different talents  and abilities. To doubt what you can do with them is to  doubt HIM. BE thankful for the gifts HE’s Blessed you  with and do all that you can with them. But remember,  those gifts are to be used for HIS purpose not ours. 

 This is his first book, Volume 1. I look forward to seeing future books. Rascoe, in order to incite a desire to read within today's youth, has made the decision to write stories, noting that he feels that, if he can get somebody to read a short story in less than a half-hour, he just might hook them into wanting to learn more! Personally, I think this is a wonderful idea...and have already determined that he has had a wide, diverse background, where he could watch people...or, even pull thoughts into a story from his creative mind that would, hopefully, give what I seem to fall back on calling, Life Lessons rather than just short stories...although that, too, is what they are...

Preparing the reader, Rascoe takes the time to set up the type of stories that he will be sharing in Ironies by, first, sharing a basic look at his title...

i·ro·ny [ˈīrÉ™nÄ“] NOUN irony (noun) · ironies (plural noun) · dramatic irony (noun) · tragic irony (plural noun) 1. the expression of one’s meaning by using language that normally signifies the opposite, typically for humorous or emphatic effect: “'Don’t go overboard with the gratitude,” he rejoined with heavy irony.'”

synonyms: sarcasm · sardonicism · dryness · causticity · sharpness · acerbity · acid · bitterness · trenchancy · mordancy · cynicism · mockery · satire · ridicule · derision · scorn · sneering · wryness · backhandedness 

Each of us, at one time or another, might choose to use words that speak...without saying the true words. I tend to choose sarcasm, or did in th past... About the only form I've been using lately is adding a rather new slang word after something is said: Ah...Duh! It's short, humorous most times if it is used that way. If not, then the individual who hears the word(s) might easily get the point made by that one word...

I found it...ironic...to have found an individual story, called "Hypocritically Hypercritical Calvin Combs." which sounded like somebody I know... Which, by the way, reminds me...An interview with our Spotlight Author, Cam Rascoe, is coming next!...

I think the point of the story, above, just might be to remind us that each of us needs to look at ourselves, just as we may see or find something that is bothersome about others. Maybe even realize that we should first look at ourselves--to Know Thyself--first. And, always, that God sees us and knows...us...each... of...us!


Ironies contains well over 70 short and long stories, each with an ironic twist. The first one, provided below is short enough to maybe have you understand just what might be coming...in Ironies...

About A Girl 

An easy friend is what you simply were to me, always with an ear to lend. You certainly fit the shoe but unfortunately for you, you never had a clue. 

Never did you mind the bad habits that I had to serve. Your kindness I took advantage of while hanging out to dry. Enamored with my creation you were. The artist in me had your heart, but I could never love you or another more than I loved my vice. It was no longer just a vice it now consumed my life. 

While with you I ate, bathed and gained strength to go out and do it all over again. You never judged or condemned me. But you also understood I couldn’t see you every night… free. 

After being out in the wilderness or concrete jungle for a while I would come back veins filled with vice, heart weary, body fatigued. I’d be standing on your line. I do hope you have the time. 

To me you’ll always be no more than number two but when in need I’d keep a date with you. Again I’ll take advantage while, you hang me out to dry but I can’t see you every night… free. 

Whenever I returned you welcomed me with open arms and a warm embrace. From one baby to another it would seem that I’m lucky I met you. You, always the willing victim didn’t mind if my only duty was to completely drain you. You just yearned for that passionate kiss from my mouth to yours, I like you. 

I’ll never love you because I couldn’t love myself but I could love myself better than you. You know it’s true so what should I do? When I’m through with you it’s like I’m high up on a plane; I can’t complain. When you are no longer able to satisfy my needs I must bid you adieu. Never will I burden my mind with memories of you. Once were you a person of purpose to me when I was in need of a warm bed and a hot meal. Service you I did as payment for my nourishment and lodging. Tears you shed after I fled but your hurt was of no consequence to me. 

The respect you lacked, for yourself made it easier for me to flee because if you can’t love yourself better than this; how can you ever be loved by me? 


Sometimes it seems like relationships are always out of sync... One individual might love another more than the other returns that love... Seriously, is that really going to work in a long-term situation? When somebody, especially talking "About A Girl," we may see that she is being used, horribly, by some guy who comes and goes without any feelings of shame. For, surely, she was so needy, he felt, that, really, he just couldn't fall for her... Rascoe has a talent to see that type, or similar types of interpersonal relationships and puts the situation into a few short words, to point out exactly what is going on...So, maybe, just maybe, you can see yourself...and realize, Girl! You Can Do Better!

But the opposite can also be true, right... Some women realize exactly what they are looking for... And, maybe, just maybe, you aren't it?

More Than a Woman 

More than a woman, is that what we’re looking for men? Yes… we all are! Even the most giving, self reliant, domestic, paternal and dedicated men are looking for more than a woman. More than a woman, when we find her do we ever truly know what to do? First: We should love her; love her the way we want to be loved by her. Powerful unconditional love. Love that gives you goose bumps, love that makes you ache when she’s not in your presence. Work days seem like an eternity only because you can’t see her loving face for those agonizing eight hours, five days a week. Second. Be A MAN… without being a man. Do the things A MAN should do, protect, repair, represent, secure and head your household. Don’t do the things men do, be selfish, domestically lax, behave entitled, excessively playing with toys, in other words acting like little boys again. She’s your wife not your mama. Third: Time, give time. Give time to your family, interact; involve yourself in ALL family activities, allow her time to herself (that may mean taking on more parental responsibility). Time given shows dedication to that special woman in your life making you worthy of her time. Make your love timeless. More than a woman is what we yearn for men, but are we up  to the challenge? With great reward comes great responsibility  and behind every great man is a greater woman. Be worthy  of more than a woman, earn the greatness of her love.

And then there is another thing that happens with...Love...

Beating Out The Love 

How could someone be so evil, so vile, 
you have to  understand
 that it all started for him as a child.
 This insanely heinous behavior
 doesn’t just come about on its own.
 This level of malevolence comes
 from years of cultivation,
  ingrained and taught, 
it has to be shown. 
No love was let in, 
only pain, 
strictly darkness no light. 
What little love born within
 surely has been beaten out
 minus a fight. 
Oh the horrors he has suffered
 at the hands of  those
 charged with raising and loving him.
 In his pain they found their joy
 and even a little  profit,
 controlled substance or gem.
 Cries went unheard and
 were even muffled
 to quiet the shame.
 The crimes against
 his young soul
 were  often initiated 
as a friendly game.
 Ravaged, ruptured, rooted,
 run through
 and now you wonder why
 he would want to harm
 a man like you.
 You are the patron of the pain,
 piercing their young  souls
 leaving scars that will never heal
. The lure is the trust
 and the bait is the game
 until a young spirit is broken,
 no longer able to feel.
 Numb to the pain, 
numb to the shame, 
temporarily  forgetting
 the horrible memories.
 Therapists come up
 with sound diagnoses,
  medications, studies and theories.
 No need to go to such
 great measures to understand
 how  monsters are created,
 we merely have
 to hear your life stories. 
Now you have caused harm,
 taken life utilizing
 your  mouth, hands, feet
 and eventually a knife.
 Crime scene so gruesome,
 three victims in all,
  with the stench of violent loss of life.
 No innocence in the room,
 all engaged in evil  debauchery
 on earth with heaven above.
 Now the monster has put 
his training to use and 
 everyone is so appalled
 but this is what happens 
 after you have beaten 
out all of the love.
 Beating Out The
LOVE


Friends, relatives, neighbors, it is a time when all of us must become more aware... I hope, through spotlighting Cam Rascoe, you will see that he might have words of wisdom that you consider reading. In fact, I highly recommend you start with this book, Ironies, his latest...

Statistics are terrible! We know that drug use, smoking and sexual experience, leading often to rape, incest and suicide are at an all-time high. And even experienced by children of younger ages than many of us could ever imagine... Human Trafficking, seduction of teenagers and children can easily be arranged via the internet, their phones...or even, in person if they are in groups with peers...

Violence is rampant... Oftentimes, caused by violence within the home, as Cam talked about in the last story above... Trust is impossible, isn't it? We have seen that people, perhaps even from churches, or the Boys Scouts have been found to have taken advantage of, or abused those children who we thought were in a good environment. WE MUST become more active... In multiple ways. 

Needless to say, voting must be based upon a sure and clear knowledge of who and what each and very person running for office is the best one for the positions we will be voting on. Just within the last two days, I have been bombarded by mail and phone with lies about an individual running within my state... I know they are lies...but many times you may not know... So please take the time to find out! Vote people OUT who are opposing and condemning our children to Hate by conspiracy theories, lies, and more lies... It will be hard, especially when, as we earlier discussed in earlier posts, churches have been corrupted by members who are acting on behalf of a false prophet, for want of a better way to identify the past president. Church members participated in the January 6 insurrection are now running for office!!!

Violence within the home, on the streets, and more, especially, these days in schools...caused by those who corrupt the world with military-style weapons that should never be sold...As you are probably aware, it is the republican party that refuses to decrease in any way the sales of guns... WE MUST DO BETTER TO KEEP OUR CHILDREN AND CITIZENS SAFE! 

God Bless,
Gabbie

Thursday, September 22, 2022

A Short Story Set in Pine Hills from Ironies; Music Score and Quotes sharing Second Festival from Restless For Retribution by Spotlight Author, Cam Rascoe!

 

Ras Cat believed that enjoying good food was a part of being southern and he loved a southern woman with a great love for food. After a second glass of sparkling water they discussed film and literature. They settled on the “Outsiders” and the feeling it gave them when they first read the book and then viewed the movie as teens. The theme song was timeless and no less than eight mega stars, young in their careers, were featured in the film. The film’s legendary director captured the book better than any director had ever captured the true essence of a novel, agreed the two lovers... From Restless for Retribution

(Black Bigotry)

Ignorance of Iesha 

It had been a long time since I saw my homeboys in the hood. We were separated by life choices, decisions and responsibilities. Living only nine miles away from one another, it may as well have been light years. Church, many different youth sporting events, work, gym, community gatherings and backyard BBQ’s is how I spend my time. Being a father of six, most of that time is spent at youth sporting events and activities. Life for my homies was spent drastically different from mine. (From Ironies)

Cat never took offense in losing to a woman in anything, he recognized that we are all blessed with different talents and abilities. The key is to utilize your particular ability in the most effective way possible.

There were more performers at the Second Annual Pine Hills Day Celebration; The Rush Tree* rocked the crowd...

We shared our life and times with different types of people doing very different things. Nonetheless the love was still there; I would always have their back and they would always have mine. So from my suburban home in Ocoee I traveled east to my old stomping grounds of Pine Hills. Thirty years prior Pine Hills was my sanctuary as I escaped from life of torment utilizing my talents and athletic abilities. This fourteen year old product of and addict and a convict had grown tired of the burdens of his parents addictions, poor choices and criminal behaviors. 

The dance studios’s three groups and six routines left the crowd in awe...

After a basketball season in which I rose from the ninth grade team all the way to varsity, I was offered the opportunity to play on an AAU U16 Basketball team that would be traveling to Florida for a tournament in which they would be playing teams from all over Orange country. Our last game was in Pine Hills at Robinswood Middle School. 

I knew my grandmother lived in the area so when the final buzzer rang I told my coaches that I would not be traveling back with the team. They protested but couldn’t stop this head strong young man determined to find a better life for him self. Ironically, twenty years later I would be asked to speak to the students of the school and meet my wife who taught there for nineteen years. 

Doing what we were called to do brought us together and created this busy loving life we now share. When I arrived in Pine Hills in the late 1980’s it was a much different place filled with optimism and ambition. The community was diversely dignified filled with home owners who took pride in their property and the developmental prosperity of their families. Pine Hills birthed or nurtured many a talented artist, musician, scholar, soldier, athlete, politician and pastor. 

The sounds her keys made brought tears to some eyes, surprised that a child so young could play so well; the crowd began to root for her. “Go on girl, you better play it baby!”*

The crime rate was minuscule compared to today. The place that saved my life is now called “Crime Hills” more often than by its given name. Still I love the area for all it has given to me, but the community has drastically changed. I’m grateful to still have roots and ties, so on this day I was going back. The love was in the air. When I stepped out of my vehicle I was greeted with cheer. Sipping on a few beers, we caught up; I told a few jokes, just like old times. 

Jill led into her favorite jazz tune “He’s Funny Like That” by Billie Holiday. The band backed her up perfectly...

Forever the comedian, I rehashed a few funny stories from our shared past that I hadn’t thought about in years. Again, I had ’em in stitches. I settled in a bedroom at the side of the house that had been converted from a garage with one of my homeboys and a chick he had been wasting time with over the years. I never quite understood why he was drawn to her but to each his own. I sat quiet as they engaged in banter about how they planned to spend their evening. 

Hey, Ras Cat! I dropped by to sing with you! This is one of my favorite songs (and singers) that I sing in my head at the beginning of summer each year...and on through... Gabbie...LOL

Iesha wanted to make a call to secure more of her favorite narcotic and hangout at their favorite watering hole. Eventually their conversation changed and focused on race. Iesha had some strong feelings on Caucasian People and her distrust of them. “I ain’t never known no good White People. Man shit you can’t trust them Crackers for nothin’. I don’t fool wit White folks.” 

 ...imitating Little Richard. her favorite performer of all time. (With a shout-out WOW to "Shut Up and Kiss Me" who seeks sharing of their songs on UTube... I loved it...so check them out!)

I was dumbfounded; I didn’t know how we got on to this and I couldn’t believe she was serious. So I asked her. “Iesha, you have never known a good White Person in your life? You think all White People are bad?” 

Rhonda and Jill started in with a duet of “Boy is mine” and the crowd swayed...

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes before answering aggressively. “Hell to the naw! I don’t trust ’em and I don’t want them around me. They smell like wet dog anyway.”

The crowd really got excited when they were joined on stage by the rest of 407 as the quartet sang “That’s What Friends Are For.” The crowd sang along… “Keep smiling’, keep shining, knowing you can always count on me, for sure that’s what friends are for.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “You mean to tell me…” Just then two of my boys who heard I was kickin’ it in the hood bust into the room interrupting my rebuttal. I followed them back outside where more people were waiting. Iesha and I never got to finish our conversation but her disturbing words stayed with me. 

Jill again covered the hit “Fallin’” and it’s challenging vocal pitch and playing; she nailed it,..

The rest of that night was a fun, full of reminiscing and laughter. Before leaving to return back to my stable, sober, plain vanilla life; I promised the homeboys I would return in a couple of days with disks of music I produced for our group years prior. Many of us were in a band together fifteen years earlier; I was the front man/ producer. 


The last song she performed was “The Greatest Love of All” and again the crowd sang. “I believe the children are the future…”

As I drove home Iesha’s words ran through my head. I couldn’t believe the ignorance she spewed. I knew some people still thought that way but to actually hear it was shocking. I just had to share with my wife; she was equally appalled. Days later there I was in my minivan heading back to Pine Hills with music in hand. It was enjoyable to take a walk down memory lane listening to myself singing and rapping about things I would never say out loud now in my forties. 

The crowd continued to sway as the band extended the song; another beautiful beautiful day was had in Pine Hills filled with love, art, culture and peace.

As an artist I could respect how brazen and unapologetic the lyrics and beats were. The subject matter left something to be desired, oh to be in my twenties again. Oh, my how my art has changed since then. I pulled up to the house and rang the door bell. I was greeted by the elder women of the family. I’ve loved them since I was a teen. These women sometimes mothered me when there was no maternal presence in my life. Hot plates and words of wisdom were offered and accepted. 


Hi, Iesha, Gabbie here Girlfriend... Yeah, I know, I know, you are thinkin' I ain't no girlfriend of yours... But, then, that can change, right? Like me, you may not have been around too many white girls...and some of them can be real...bitches, you know....?

Before I knew it an hour had passed as we caught up about our lives, our children’s and their grandchildren’s lives. I still have no grandchildren because our children are more focused on earning diplomas before birthing dependents. These women, still in their sixties had been great grandmothers for years. Unfortunately our children had different goals and focuses for their lives. I realized sitting there chatting that this is where I belonged. I had much more in common with grandmothers than men my own age trying to recapture their youth or hold on to the past. 

For me, it was not until the 7th grade that I had ever even talked to a Black girl...Her name was Marian and she was best friends with Carolyn... Both of those girls were on the school bus when I was first driven to school!

Eventually I was summoned by one of my homeboys to leave the presence of my new peers and join them in the garage. We started listening to our youthful voices saying some outlandish things harmonizing and rapping over low budget beats. Listening reminded me of my true calling in life. I was born an artist but God intended for me to utilize my talents in a different and more productive way. A silent prayer I said to myself thanking the Lord for the talents He had Blessed me with. The music was good but it was local, not major. We could move crowds here in the south but we were never going to create a new movement or rise to the level of our favorite recording artists. 

Iesha, those two girls made the first move to me, welcoming me... I learned, later, that Carolyn was a Catholic... Well, in my house, we were told that we couldn't date catholic boys, so I figured that Carolyn really shouldn't be my friend, according to my directions from home... You know what, though, I really didn't think it was the right thing to do... After all, I had learned differently in Sunday School...

Well, we all three became best friends... And whatever differences that adults seemed to have about people different from us, I just couldn't see it... Race? Religion? Marian and Carolyn were my friends, and any differences didn't matter...

Now when I place my fingertips on a different type of keyboard I leave my heart on the page, inspiring, motivating, educating and entertaining. Evoking deep feelings from my readers is my new goal giving them thoughts and sensations they never new could be received through the written word. After an hour or so of a listening session we started talking about this and that. Iesha sat in the corner sniffling from time to time with white residue around her nose. 


One day, Marian taught me a special lesson about her background...and maybe yours? The three of us had gone over to a bakery that was across the street from the junior high school in Masontown, PA... They had sputnuts (and if you've never had one, well, you've missed a great treat--it is a doughnut made with potatoes...Wow, really can't describe the taste, but I always got one of those). Marian had gotten a brownie... She wrapped the paper around the brownie and asked me if I wanted a bite. I said no, that's alright. I'm good... But, then, she added...You can have the first bite..."

We greeted one another when I entered the room but said nothing to one another since then. She seemed to enjoy our greatest hits as we talked about the times traveling, recording and performing. People started inquiring about my family and when I intended to release my next novel. I shared freely and honestly about the pros and cons of my new life. 


I had learned a little about race relations by that age...and suddenly Marian was presenting me with a "living" example. Were all children taught to fell some type of subservience, even as from their historical stories, gave their best to their "masters".... Often, much more than they should have been. But, I remembr when Marian offered me the first bite, I realized that she must have been taught to present her best offer of herself to "white" people... And, even if she was just being kind...it was I who learned just how patient and...impatient...those who are Black must be at any given time or part of their lives...

There is a lot of love in my life but very little time for self or artistic creation. I figure you have to take the good with the bad and I must admit that fathering six children never leaves you with a lack of material to write about. 

When I started working, I found that I was working with many who were Black... I remember, one day, I learned another life lesson, when, within Affirmative Action, I had been required to hire John. If there were no laws at that time, I would have promoted internally as I have always tried to do, knowing that I would have to train anybody hired, due to the specialized tasks of the job... John was doing a fine job... and he was easily working within the usually busy office. One day, he was off at lunch when a male student came in... I was the only one covering lunch that day, so I went out to see if I could help the young man. He had asked for Mr. Brown and when I explained he wasn't there... He said that he should probably come back to speak with Mr. Brown... I quickly realizd another type of bias... He expected John to be in the higher position in the office than I.  I calmly responded, "Well, John is one of my employees, but I am sure that I can help you with anything that is his job..." He had the grace to hesitate with a red face, and we went on to work on his request...

Iesha spoke up asking me about meeting my wife. “When are you going to bring your wife around?” 

I gave her a curious look. “Around who, you?” She laughed it off before restating it. “Yes, around me, us.” 

“I’m not.”


So Iesha, I know how you feel... I've seen how some of the world is about anything or anybody and It's sometime been an effort to follow the words from God... "Be the world a better place..." (BTW, this last video is a true God Incident...it sure fits what we must do today!) Think simple... Cam Rascoe does that often...even writes about it.  I've found him, even as a Black man, you know...LOL... that he has become my friend in God...and in life... How Cool is That?!

You see, Iesha, most of us have at least a basic fear of anybody who is different, looks different, talks different, or these days, even those who vote differently... I know...right now, I seem to be a black sheep in my own family... I voted for Biden!

“Why?” “Because you’re a bigot.” Chuckles went around the room but Iesha didn’t find it very funny. 

“What do you mean I’m a bigot?” I shook my head then looked over to my long time friend before answering. He shrugged, inviting me to continue on. 

“The last time I talked to you, you told me you don’t trust White people. No White people. My wife is half German, half Norwegian with blonde hair and blue eyes. You don’t get much whiter than that and you told me that you don’t deal with “crackers” as you say.” I could tell that she was put off after learning that my wife was a Caucasian woman but she tried to save face. 

Iesha, girlfriend, I've been feeling a lot like you during the last four years...even evangelical christians, who I once trusted, seem to be corrupted by this insane need for power...Yeah, you're right, just like the Masters that your race had to serve as slaves... Yes, we do owe you...But, don't think that everybody is ever going to feel the same way that many of us do...We care! I hope, though, you are seeing some differences in the last months as a new president is in...who cares about all of us, no matter what color...

“I know but if she is your wife I’m sure she is alright. She’s probably one of the few good ones.” 

I was once again dumbfounded. I repeated her words. “One of the good ones. You know that is a phrase that many racist White people have used to describe me over the years because I am well read and understand much of their American Pop Culture. They feel safe around me, see me as nonthreatening. In other words they see me as an anomaly because in their eyes Black people shouldn’t be intelligent or well spoken. What you said the other day is just as bad. You haven’t met every White person in the world but because of your ignorance of them you allow yourself to vilify them all.” 

We are reaching a point, sometimes, when we don't feel that we can even talk to those we love--family, people who were supposed to be our friends-- But, really, I have also learned that it takes each of us to take a step. Anothet step. And another step... But I've also learned that we've each got to have good vibes coming back to us, don't you think?
But, girl, I just have to tell you...that nothing is going to change if you don't get off those drugs... Nothing, no world in which we live, should be enough for you to feel so badly about yourself... Yeah, you heard right. Go out there and find out what is something that interests you--like I did, when I had to leave my job, which I loved... I turned to books! Books can take you away...and you don't need to get high on anything but life...and how good it can be...

I could see light bulbs turning on in peoples’ heads around the room but she was still unrelenting. 

“But you know that bad shit they do trying to keep us down. If it was up to them, they would make us slaves again.” 

I decided that it was time I made my final point and exit this din of the dimwitted. “Again, that’s all White people?” 

“Most of them.”

Yeah, I'm gettin' there...Maybe you even were hoping to hear about an answer... You see, in case you didn't know, there's a friend I'd like to have you meet... His name is...Jesus...

 “Do you know that my wife and her two sisters have taught here in Crime Hills for almost two decades? Do you realize that we only met because she wanted me to come in and speak to her class to inspire them? She reached out to me because she was investing in the children of this community. We both met the love of our lives doing what we were called to do in service of our people.” Iesha’s face was still sour. “Everywhere we go in this county we are approached by some young adult or teen that my wife has taught and inspired to be something greater. She has used her vocation to elevate three generations of our Black and Brown children and Lord knows she doesn’t get paid a lot for it. Doctors, lawyers, businessmen, politicians, professional athletes and future scholars have passed through her classroom and left with the desire to be greater. Her only reward is their development and growth as productive citizens and the praise they offer her for her efforts. My wife is a compassionate professional who doesn’t judge people by the color of their skin yet by the content of their character.” Iesha kind of sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. With her lack of response or rebuttal I continued on. “While she is helping to raise the Black children of the Hills you sit in here in this garage getting high everyday and you have three children of your own, home at your mama’s house that you are neglecting. 
You know, Iesha, it's been a wonderful life knowing that Jesus is always there for me, maybe even to just hold my hand, but, more, to know and be secure in His love... Wanna talk more about it, just let me or Cam know... Yeah, Cam is the best guy to talk to--he's been around your neighborhood for quite a while and knows just what you might want to talk about... and He's been given a special gift of wisdom to tell it like it is, just like he's already spoken to you... But, believe me, he's one of the good guys! If you're not ready to talk, you can read some of his words of wisdom...there are words that you just might find to be written just for you! Yes! Just take that first step... Put your hand out...

Now tell me again how all White people are wicked and evil.” I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was a friend letting me know that I had made my point. But I had one more thing to say. “If a White person wanted to generalize about or stereotype all Black people by your actions they would say that we are all lazy, slothful drug addicts who neglect their children. That’s the example you show to White people giving them what they believe is credence to assume we are all like that. Thank you sister!” 

With that I stood up and starting saying my goodbyes. I had enough of the hood for a little while. Catching up and reminiscing was cool but I had more important things to be doing with my time. 

Our history I will never forget, I will always love them but some of the people that hold such ignorant views of the world I cannot surround myself with. It just shows that racist come in all sizes, shapes and colors.

 (Black Bigotry) Ignorance of Iesha

*Substitute musicians used



Believe!