I've got a dilemma on my hands. Rather than complain about it, or feel helpless against it, I've decided to address it proactively.

But I need your help. That's right, yours.

If I ever had an ulterior motive for this blog it hasn't been to present some false image of myself as a Man, Dad, or Husband. It hasn't been to troll for tail behind the scenes or have any of my loyal readers validate me. If I need validation anywhere, it's in the real world and not cyberspace.

What is my validation a.k.a. ulterior motive? A non self-published book. A thing made of either paper or electronic ink with a title and my name on the byline.

That's it. Nothing more. Oh and illustrating through stories that men can really love their children, wives and families as a totality and have their own struggles in the meantime. So I wrote a proposal and created a tentative book title, Bottom Line Fatherhood - Bottom Line Manhood (they are pretty much one in the same), I prospected for a literary agent, sparked the interest of one, sent her my proposal, she sent me edits to make what I am proposing stronger and more salable in the marketplace, I sent back my revisions, she likes it and now it just...

...sits...somewhere in the land of being pigeonholed as a "Black Book."

In leafing through the pages of this blog, the source material for my impending book, I can hardly note what makes my book project a black book except for my "black" skin (my daughter says, "You're not black! You're brown!"). My male readership here on the blog represents a rainbow coalition of individuals scattered throughout the US in the 35-44 demographic. My female readers are considerably more weighted toward African American and women of color in the 25-44 demo. Probably because with all the negative imagery, speekery and proofery in our culture, I am an oddity, an African American man willing to bear my soul for no real reason at all. I hear that I help women understand what is going on with their own men. If that's true I'm glad I could help.

But that still doesn't make what I write "Black" except during those anecdotal moments when I've specifically referenced racist (or at least ignorant) behavior toward me and/or my family. I write based on what God puts on my heart to write, and sometimes I write for the sake of staying fresh and relevant. Either way I don't write in color.

But even if I did, what's wrong with that? What's wrong with a positive representative of a subset of the population that has been perverted to a degree of nearly inconceivable, foolish and criminal misogyny. People of color would snap up the book and mainstream population would read it for the sake of furthering their own knowledge of said subset, to argue the validity for better or worse over coffee or at dinner parties. Ever read Stuff White People Like?

So here I am stuck at GO with what you and I know is a valid product. Raw, uncensored, unshielded fatherhood told from a first person point of view.

So what do we need to do with My Little Black Book?

I would ask that you make this post and this blog go viral. Tweet and retweet, ask to retweet aka "PLS RT", Facebook and Digg and Stumble and Ping and anything else you might have in your social media revolver. And then there's good old email.

I do want to do this for my own personal validation, but I'd also like to donate partial proceeds to a worthwhile cause such as the National Fatherhood Initiative. (They owe me an email also.)

But apparently I can't do this if only notable Black people endorse me. (I'm sure this wouldn't be the case if I had Essence Magazine on my side, or Oprah! - man can dream can't he?) I gotta throw some white folks in the mix. This will be probably one of the only times you read me mentioning race here for the year. Let's make August, my best month all year, go out with a true BANG!

Help me make my movement viral, so that it can become re-al.

Please? (As I always tell my daughter to put at the end of any of her requests.)

Thank you!


There's a new book on Fatherhood coming to a store or e-reader near you! Add your name to list of people who want to see it happen. Please "Like" Bottom Line Fatherhood and count yourself as one who supports positive outlooks on the Dad Life.

There was a time way back when, maybe a little longer than a decade ago --- damn near a century by technology's standards --- when I would make plans with someone, let's say a best friend, to do something, for example a movie. We agreed on where to meet and when.

And then we'd meet up when we said we would and we went to do what we planned to do. We held each other accountable to the plan we set. Traffic, storms, confusion at home...none of it mattered. You showed up on time or an acceptable amount of minutes late, stood by your plans and your word.

A couple weeks back I pulled up right in front of my son who was waiting for me in front of the movie theater near our house. He was looking down at his phone and wasn't looking up. I reached for my cell phone to call him when I heard me tell myself,

This is stupid.

I rolled down the window and started yelling at him to get in the car. Yelling not because I have no home training, but because I just felt plain silly.

What's even sillier? The fact that, if I choose, I can talk to friends all over the place via Facebook or Twitter, Disqus or whatever else I can get my hands on as far as social media goes, but I can hardly reach anyone on the phone and seeing them in person is a joke.

The very thing that makes social media viable is the thing that perpetuates a disconnected society: the desire to connect. Social media has broken down social barriers (by allowing people to hide behind their keyboards), created networks that in some cases reach absurd numbers --- the millions, and hardly any of them actually know one another.

I consider myself lucky. I've been able to put a real face and a breathing body to some of the more animated personalities in my social registers. And they are anything but crazy. This may have everything to do with the fact that they are animated personalities and merely use social media to enhance, not create, their networks. And at the beginning of the summer my luck got even better. I was able to connect with some old high school friends and despite my initial trepidation, we had a blast.

So what's my issue, you may be asking right about now? Simple. The lure of "connecting" has made cheating on your spouse, girlfriend, boyfriend, job, children, furry friends, etc., with your computer okay. I remember at one point in this life when chat rooms were the equivalent of an e-Sodom & Gomorrah, but now chatting via gchat, AIM, MSN Messenger, Facebook Chat, Twitter, all of it is as normal and considered as much a part of your daily routine as eating. So you're laughing at a screen, talking to a tiny camera mounted atop your monitor and barely speaking to the people you live with (now this is a worst-case scenario I'm painting here, but if left unchecked the lure can easily become an addiction).

Just ask yourself the following questions: 1) What is the first thing you DO when you wake up in the morning? 2) What is the first thing you DO after you sit down to your desk at work? 3) How do you unwind at home? 4) Does work ever end if social media is attached to your business?

Hopefully smartphone, computer and Facebook and/or Twitter or myspace won't be words that make up your answer. But if they do...


There's a new book on Fatherhood coming to a store or e-reader near you! Add your name to list of people who want to see it happen. Please "Like" Bottom Line Fatherhood and count yourself as one who supports positive outlooks on the Dad Life.

I had a very busy week this week. Once my move From Home To House was complete, I fully anticipated powering through the rest of my week as normal.

Instead, I crashed. HARD. I guess my body was telling me to put a sock in it.

Below are some recent and not so recent relevant reads written by your host, E.Payne, here on this blog and elsewhere around the Net. If you don't have anything else better to do, then check them out below!

Friends of Your Marriage

Dad As Easy As A, B, C

Marriages & Grudges Don't Mix

Walking In Darkness

The Huddle of the Wife And Kids

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A couple nights ago my daughter and I were walking outside and I was holding her hand. At one moment she pulled away and I said, "Let me hold your hand."

She said, "Why? So you can lead me because it's dark?"

I smiled and said, "Yes, baby, so I can lead you."

And then my heart smiled.

I recently shared this little story on my Facebook Page, but what I didn't share was how what my daughter said was so true of what our relationship should be with God. I held my daughter's hand and she walked with confidence and surety through the darkness until we got home. How easy would life be or better stated, how much more manageable would life be, if we all did the same with our Father upstairs?

#notpreachin but #imjustsayin

There's a new book on Fatherhood coming to a store or e-reader near you! Add your name to list of people who want to see it happen. Please "Like" Bottom Line Fatherhood and count yourself as one who supports positive outlooks on the Dad Life.

A little self-celebrating never hurt anyone!


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Last Fall, I posted a brief video that expressed my contempt for a new place my family and I were moving to. It was called, The "S" On My Chest - Daddy Kryptonite.

And then I fell for the place. It was that good kind of love, the kind that's subtle and sneaks up on you. I scratched out a patch of apartment, I staked my claim, I got my kids completely embedded in the community. The only thing missing was church and a job (but that was my fault not the city where I moved).
And just four weeks ago, I found a great church across the street from the community center where my son volunteered this summer. A great church, that seems to be the right size and has the makings of being a church for all of us, not just me. For a very long time now I've been uprooting repeatedly from place to place looking for a better place not realizing the greatness of a place is what you build in that space and hopefully if no one comes along to tear it down you set down roots and grow and you water and nourish until you have something of awe right in front of you. Over time, I have become a man with no roots who is constantly traumatized by being re-potted, that's right, just like a plant. Looking back on the totality of the experience it has become almost frighteningly clear that this time around God brought me to a place I never wanted to be to teach me how to live.

Now, I sit in front of a computer that I am getting ready to dismantle. The movers will be here in 3 hours to cart it all away. Because there are people still living here, my house is still a home. Having a flat screen television and an iPod dock also helps. My daughter's laughter still hangs in the dining room that is now empty with a legless dinner table sitting in the middle of the floor. The sounds of my teen dropping and banging stuff are gone, but I can still see him dropping stuff everywhere. I see his mess, despite the present spic and span clean, in the bathroom that was once his, now wiped of all traces of him. My daughter's room is most certainly the brightest with the most smiles and a wall plastered with appliques of butterflies and Dora. The pictures I've taken of my family still line the walls and will remain for some time after the movers leave. But they will be down in a week or so or until I get up the desire to take them down to pack them. My room is empty, wide open, cold --- because it actually is cold and because in the place of much strife only lonliness lingers --- cold, stinging, cutting loneliness that tears at me daily and haunts me nightly. And I have to remain in it to close out the affairs that linger here where we once thrived, unbeknownst to both my wife and I.

Last Wednesday, my home had five people in it. In one month it will have none. It will become what it was the day we moved in a house for a new family to hopefully turn into a home. And I am more inspired than ever to turn the new house of walls and stairs and rooms and garage space that awaits me into my home, for now, and maybe for a change, a long time. We'll see how it all shakes out.

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Lest anyone get it twisted, my last post, The Huddle of the Wife And Kids, had little to do with defending my friend and much to do with the overarching consequences of poor choices that no one can forses. Even when they believe they are making those choices for the sakes of the ones they love.

What I learned in the hours following my friend's departure for Kentucky was that the experience was as much for me as it was for him (well maybe a little less). It has sobered me up considerably. Life is too short, and too important and too fun. Not that I didn't know that before, but seeing someone else's quality of life being adversely effected short of death is about as strong as a shot of Wild Turkey.

As the hours passed, the pointlessness (in my mind) of my own situation began to increase as did my seriousness to kill the noise. An unexpected side effect: for the first time in months I was exhausted. Truth be told, I'm always tired, but that has never stopped me from popping up first thing in the morning to hit the bricks and get the day going. Nor has it prevented me from staying up all night sometimes wishing I had some sort of magical ability to hold off tomorrow. But on Thursday, I could barely move. I overslept that morning and then that evening I slept the evening away, waking up well after midnight only to strip out of my clothes, turn over in my bed and go right back to sleep.

On Friday I recovered, but life felt a little different. I wasn't so anxious. I was a little less concerned. What may have mattered a few days ago still did, but my attitude toward it is a little more laid back now. I'm not sure the poison my wife and I have been drinking has dried up, but I know I've lost the desire to take any more nips from that bottle. So for me, now, the bottle is irrelevant.

I sincerely hope this is making sense.

For the time being it seems that I've been purged. Just like the waif model who gets it all out of her system before her shoot or runway walk, all my BS and all the BS surrounding me is swirling around in the toilet. This doesn't mean that life and the consequences of my actions prior will cease to get in the way or simply go away. This doesn't mean my problems are solved. And none of this has gotten me a job, but problems are only as big as you make them out to be, even when they really are big problems. And are they really even problems? Or are they whatever it is you've been calling them? Somehow without seeking or trying, seeing a guy I've known since 18 drive off to his own lockup/lockdown purged me of everything that had me restless, anxious, sighing all the time and walking with my head down.

So for now, I don't have problems. Thank God. I just got stuff to do.

How 'bout you?

Photo Credit: Vardo

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I had planned to post today, but I wasn't sure what I was going to write. I'm still not but here goes...

Last night I abandoned my exhaustion, left my lovely daughter and traveled an hour and a half north of my home to visit one of my best friends. I was in a race against distance and time to a place I've never been. I had to be there by 10 pm. Why? Because that's when my friend's brother was coming to pick him up so the two of them could make a long, lonely drive to Kentucky where at 2pm today my great friend is to surrender himself to a federal prison camp. I had to see him before he left. If I didn't I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

Like me, my friend is a man, dad and husband and my friend has always been one of those sources that I've relied on for wisdom, encouragement and strength. For nearly 17 years he played this role in my life. Then about 2 years ago, the roles reversed.

He had gotten himself into what I initially thought was financial trouble. I remember when he first confessed his errors I came down on him hard, but told him there was a way out of it. I gave him a nice piece of cash to the tune of a couple thousand dollars. It wouldn't solve. It would help. I thought all was fine and then I didn't hear from him for almost a year. What I knew was merely the tip of the iceberg.

My friend went down in a fireball of legal trouble, or rather, legal infractions. And because he was a lawyer and a federal prosecutor at that, the powers that be were compelled to make an example out of him. Reading about him in the paper and reading the FBI press release caught me off guard and left me scratching my head. How is all this even possible? I remember asking myself. In the end only one or two of the half dozen charges stuck. And even the man who had it in for him admitted he was a good guy who made bad mistakes. He's got to pay the piper and hopefully in no time he'll be back home with his wife and 3 daughters.

I cried as I sped through the night, thinking about all the times he cried on the phone to me, knowing he had made bad choices, but had only done so to support his family and the lifestyle they had become accustomed too (which includes an enormous house). I told him a little natural human greed and needless risk taking probably factored in as well. When I finally saw him for the first time in three years, he looked solid. He was a man who seemed to be at peace with his fate and was ready to go. We hugged and almost immediately began cracking jokes. I talked to his brother and nephew, who was tagging along for the ride. His eldest daughter met me, though I've known her since she was a little bit (now she's nearly my height). His littlest ones met me and waved excitedly. And I embraced his wife, telling her that if she needed anything I was a phone call away, and I would be calling because I was only a phone call away. I told my friend I would do my best even though right now I have nothing to give. He told me what I've given him has been priceless.

After talking for entirely too long considering the timetable he was on, we all left the house and then chatted for a little while longer out on the front lawn. Then it was time for him to go. He got into his brother's car with four dollars and a bible. I got into mine. His wife and their kids were all out on the porch watching and waving. The oldest daughter knows exactly what's happening. The two little ones believe he's going away on business. And technically he is going away to handle his business and close out what I pray has been the darkest and dankest chapter of his life.

Because we were out in the sticks I followed behind them for a while until the road became recognizable. We were both taking the same route but my way was East and theirs, West. We hit a red light before parting ways and we all yelled at each other through open windows until the light turned green. Then I wished them well on their drive. They went right, and I went left.

Traveling back home my problems, namely my very real family/life-threatening crisis with my wife that I've been keeping secret from this blog, just seemed silly. All I kept seeing in front of me was a woman and her three girls huddled around her, standing in her front doorway watching her Husband and their Dad drive off into the unknown.

I went to bed heartbroken, but I am hopeful for them all.


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Last night my daughter and I sat out on the terrace, me in my favorite lounge chair and she in my lap, wrapped in a blanket. We observed the deep indigo of the night sky, the gray clouds that were scattered throughout it, the three stars (my daughter saw 100) that hung above us and the "shooting stars" which were actually airplanes. With the exception of the occasional car that went speeding by on the street below, it was quiet and peaceful. Finally, she rested her head against one of my arms and told me, "I'm tired." I kissed her on her forehead, rubbed her back for a little while longer and continued to take it all in.

It was a quiet and unexpected moment of peace and beauty that I wouldn't trade for any party, club, lounge, hanging out with friends for anything else, except maybe having my wife and my son sitting there with me.

What unexpected precious moment(s) have you shared with your children?

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Just as I stated in my last video post, nothing stops the movement. I'm still boxing and working out over at LA Boxing/Mamaroneck located at 300 Waverly Place in Mamaroneck, NY.

While I was thinking of all the things that go into my workout, I realized I overlooked one of the most critical components: the music. A lover of nearly everything but opera I have very specific tastes when it comes to what motivates me. Here is a sample (Click on the image to read the list clearly):
























I've added House Music, some new Hip Hop that's recently hit the airwaves and a lot more Rock to my playlist. I'm not 100% proud of some of the explicit tunes on the list, but what can I say? The beats, the rhythm, the energy of the music motivates me! And it's only heard by my ears.

What music motivates you to push your workout to the next level? What would you add to this list?


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For those of you who are new to the blog and for those of you who simply don't feel like scrolling though all these pages I've posted I present, The Top 5 Posts of July 2010 (see the right hand column also):

1. Best Laid Plans Between Strangers
2. Married Life
3. To Spank Or Not To Spank?
4. Your Value As A Man
5. What Is Love?

And when you're done here, head on over to the Makes Me Wanna Holler Facebook Page Forum where we've got a pretty good discussion going about couples seeking counseling as Relationship 911 Rescue.


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If you took a look at this week's Worldless Wednesday post, Tomatoes, To-mah-toes, you probably thought to yourself, "ehh...okay."

Well here's the backstory:

This past Saturday, I walked out onto my terrace and practically fell off of it when I saw tiny green tomatoes had sprouted on the tomato plants I planted with my daughter at the beginning of the Spring. I have been quietly complaining to myself for months about these damn tomatoes. The seedlings took root soon enough and out the original five I thought I planted, fourteen decided to make their presence known. I had to re-pot them twice. And everyday my daughter and I happily watered the plants. And then nothing.

Nothing.

And a little more nothing.

Months ago my Detroit, photog, green thumb, homie, Tafari, happily gloated about his tomatoes on Facebook. When I saw his status I thought, What is wrong with my tomatoes? Then my daughter went away to see her grandparents for the summer and still no tomatoes. I thought to myself, How in the world did I buy defective tomato seeds? They smelled like tomatoes. But no tomatoes.

Until now.

Despite my doubts, despite my complaints, I watered those plants everyday...EVERYDAY. Without thought, without fail. There was never a day that I thought, These things aren't growing, I ain't watering sugar/honey/ice/tea anymore! I just kept on watering the plants figuring I was going to have six-foot tall naked tomato stalks on my terrace.

I kept nourishing the plants, despite what I couldn't see, despite what my mind didn't understand. I kept sowing love and nourishment into the plants. Taking them out of the sun on asphalt buckling heat days and moving them inside when violent rain and wind whipped upside my building. And now the fruit is here. They didn't come when I wanted them to arrive. They showed up when the time was right for them. When the stalks were tall enough and strong enough to support the weight of the fruit they had to bear. A mystery of life was revealed right before my eyes this past Saturday.

And then things got downright spooky.

I hopped on a plane that afternoon and flew down to Atlanta to visit my wife who has accepted a position down there (more on this later). We went to church (Imapct Church) the next morning and the pastor preached a sermon on reaping what you sow, but moreso, sowing into something to receive from it. And what did he use to illustrate his point? A story about his tomato plants in his yard that didn't, at first glance, seem to be growing. But in their proper time and season, they arrived and were more tasty than anything he ever bought at the store. My mouth fell open. And it didn't end there. Without knowing I knew I knew the pastor so I decided to approach the man. As it turns out the pastor, who was celebrating his 70th birthday that day, has preached at my home church in Chicago and was mentored by one of the longtime leaders of that same church way back at the beginning of my time on Earth. Sunday was a day of revelation and confirmation for me. My cup was overflowing with it.

For those of you who don't believe in God or anything esle, this ain't a sermon. For those of you who do believe in God, I am a witness --- there are no such things as coincidences.

How's that for backstory?



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Want to enrich your Makes Me Wanna Holler experience with discussions, current events and interacting with people just like you? Then please "Like" the Makes Me Wanna Holler Facebook Page and join the movement. You won't be disappointed.

I've been keeping secrets...

I've been going through a lot lately. Painful, heart-wrenching, gut-busting stuff. What's even more painful is the growing realization that I have played a major role in all of the above mentioned misery. Hopefully in time I will have the courage (or plain insanity), or best stated: permission, to share.

If you've haven't noticed, there are overarching themes that have developed on this blog. For a while I was making light of a lot of my early missteps as a father and husband. Then I just started speaking specifically to my experiences as a father. I then began to mix a little bit of weight loss and inspiration in. As I've moved closer toward my personal weight loss goal I've now migrated into discussing being your best --- the best employees, the best parents, the best person you can be --- in order to effect change in your life and the lives of everyone (intimate or stranger) around you.


The Wind At Your Back

In order to do this however you have to have a grasp on who you are. So that you can know where you begin and end. So you can know what to fix and what to leave alone. So you can know who to be and how to be in the midst of a constantly changing life. So although there may be plenty of surprises that crop up in front of and around you, you won't be caught off guard by any surprises coming forth from you. As has happened to me. Trust me, you don't want to be surprised from within.

In order to swim through this life effectively, with the wind at your back and joy in your heart, you have to have a solid grasp on who you are. You must.

At the end of last week, I answered the question of "Who are you?" on a post on my big brother site, Black And Married With Kids, the following way:

My name is Eric Payne. Most people in the blog world know me as E.Payne. I'm a Man, A Dad and A Husband. I am a son to two loving and God fearing parents. A nephew to countless aunts and uncles and a cousin to even more people. I am a Child of God. I am made in His Image and as such I am eternally optimistic, frustratingly faithful (to some) and have no problem relinquishing authority to the Most High when I've run out of answers and strength. I am in the process of rebuilding my life as it has gone off course in the past few years. I have a purpose here that goes beyond just being a committed and hard working father. My walk has gone far left of center or straight but the whole while God has been with me, not letting me go too far, not allowing me and my flesh to mess things up too much. Who am I? I am God's Handiwork with some good old fashioned sloppy humanity mixed in. I am a work in progress and I am blessed.

This is who I am right now. Please think about it for a while and answer below if you feel comfortable...Who are you?


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I'm back in the Belly of the Beast, sitting at my computer in the Land of the Lost. Just wanted to say hi and ask each of you to make it a great day by doing your absolute best and doing it to the best of your ability with little to no concern about what anyone else is doing around you or to you (this is hard, but not impossible).

Happy Tuesday


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I was at a prayer meeting this past Tuesday evening, believe it or not. It was my second time actually. And for the second Tuesday in a row the group put out a massive group prayer for the Unemployed. A prayer for their well-being, physically, mentally and spiritually. A prayer for their deliverance despite what is said in the news and reported in the monthly unemployment numbers. This groups' prayers also asked for understanding amongst their spouses and family members and friends. That these loved ones abstain from judging these individuals who are under so much daily stress and who knows how close to their breaking points.

Let's hope and pray that none of these people --- men, women, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, loved ones --- reach that point.

You Can Endure

But there is a way to endure in the meantime, in between time. One thing I've discovered in the past couple of weeks is that the mystery of life is that it is right in front of you. People spend so much time pondering the unknown that they miss that life is staring them in the face. Yes, opportunities might await you down the road or around the corner. Yes, you don't know where you'll be a week or year from now. But how about this:

DOES IT MATTER?

ARE YOU THERE YET?

WHAT ABOUT NOW?

Now you might not have that much cash on hand. You might even be flat broke, but don't let money make you a prisoner in your home. Here's a shortlist of things you can do to take control of your life:

• Volunteer somewhere you've always wanted to volunteer. (Who knows who you might meet? Who knows who might be impressed with the work you do? Who knows?)


• Exercise. If you have a membership that is getting no traction then give it some traction. If you don't have the funds to go to the gym physically get off your behind, walk out of the door of your home and walk, jog, run your favorite neighborhood route or that park you always wanted to go to when you had no time because you were always working. If you have a rusty bike, trust me, get some WD-40, spray that sucker down and hit the road. No one is paying attention to the fact that you look like you should be an extra in Breaking Away.


• Love all the moments you have with family and friends. If they won't go to you then go to them. Bridge the gaps, make the time (you have it), talk out your feelings with people who, believe it or not are in your life just waiting for you to come to them.


• Make new friends. Stumble off the street into a church full of people you've never met and have a breakdown (for various reasons) like I did a week ago. When people invite you out to the next meeting, picnic, baseball game, barbecue...GO! Don't make excuses to sit at home, be miserable and ponder what could be.

What could be is happening...right in front of you. You've just got to open your eyes to see it. And open your hearts to embrace it.

To be continued...




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What I Wouldn't Give To Have This Time With Her Again...


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I'm going to start the week off with some audience participation...

What is or has been the greatest challenge you face or have faced as a parent/father? Please leave your Comment below.

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