Kind of like a child, five snuck up on me pretty quickly. But unlike a child, my blog doesn't sit around reminding me how old it will be or badger me with a never ending list of gifts it wants for turning one year older. But it might be kind of cool if it did, because I simply can't remember much of my life before my wife and kids.

Five years ago today I wrote my first post here at Makes Me Wanna Holler. Back then it was called Manchild In The Promised Land and it had a very hard to remember web address. I wasn't writing about being a father or a husband. Instead I was concealing, via thoughtful blog posts how much I hated my commute, how lost and scared I felt marching into older adulthood and maybe most importantly how alone I felt in the world as an adult only child, a man who's friendships had succumbed to the busyness of marriages and family life and in one instance just an inexplicable departure of a friend. Looking back on these five years I know my wife didn't pick up on this or if she did, she mistook it for something else, assigning other names to my fears and my lack of expertise in dealing with them: selfishness and self-centeredness. I told the world I was writing to get a book deal, but I know better now. I needed someone to listen, even if it, my blog, said nothing back.

This blog very quickly evolved into a self-study of me that all of you, well seventeen of you back then  --- that I emailed whenever I wrote something, just happened to be privy to. You grew with me as this thing, this user-interface I've been opening up almost daily, was my couch and counselor helping me grow strong, to understand myself so that I can understand and speak to others. It has become my silent trainer, turning me into a writer I never dreamed I was capable of being. It has been my loudest advocate telling the world "Come look at this guy! Work with him!" It is my platform. Like Kevin Hart, who I recently saw in concert, it's my stage where I've got fire and I hold court, when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm waxing philosophical and when I'm angry. And in the last two years it has become what I always wanted it to be but could never truly share ---- a creator of opportunities. I've been laughed at. I've been branded a fool and a man without a plan because why would anyone dedicate so much time to something --- an alleged hobby --- that on it's face doesn't appear to be doing anything more than gaining me a self-serving crowd of Internet groupies --- male and female? Because first, it was never a hobby and second, somehow I knew without knowing that some good would come of all this. And my groupies aren't groupies at all, but people who just happen to need a good word from time to time. I think. I am humbled that they seek me for it.

After five years of me pouring words into this blog, this blog has begun to speak, no, shout, for itself. In the last month it has even taken on the role of provider. It is my testament that a man can try, and keep trying, and keep trying, develop a love and appreciation for the journey --- even during the worst of times --- and start getting it right. It is my love letter to my kids. It is my owner's manual on adult manhood for my son. It is my guidebook for my daughter on how a man should treat a woman and some insight on understanding him so she maybe won't be so quick to judge when dealing with someone she loves and worse, act on those judgments. It is proof to my wife that I've always put the needs of my family and her needs, first. I had a master plan or the Master had a plan that not even I believed totally.

I can't say that  MMWH.com will see ten. If I'm still writing the same old same old for ten years straight then I'm doing something wrong. Eventually both my kids will be gone and even if I have another one, you all know what I'm going to do. Maybe in six years you'll be watching the Makes Me Wanna Holler Show or made for TV movie or webisodes. I don't know. I haven't gotten there yet. Or have I?

I'm glad I heeded the heavenly nudge to continue this on the oh so many days when I just wanted to quit. What I can say is, "Happy Birthday" to my therapist, my testimony, my trainer, my advocate, my platform, my door-opener, my virtual baby, my friend, my blog. I can also say, "Thank you!" for it has truly been a blessing.

---

Thoughts? Please, let me know in the Facebook or Disqus comment sections below.

The beautiful thing about having a blog that is almost four years old and has 800+ posts is that the content stays alive no matter what year it was written. Many of the following Top 10 posts for 2011 weren't actually written in 2011 but they have maintained their staying power and deserve their positions right alongside my freshest and most up to date content. Here they are in order for your reading pleasure:

1. I Hate Cats (written in 2008)


2. 7 Things You Should NOT Say To Your Wife(written in 2009)


3. Investing In An Emotional Letdown (written in 2010)


4. Really Home Alone


5. Daddy Daughter Date - Chicago Style
6. 10 Ways To Spice Up Your Marriage
7. Dream Big, Dream Early
8. Best Writing On The Bathroom Wall Ever!
9. But Why Do I Have To Die?
10. The Curse of A Loving Father

Do you have a favorite post here on Makes Me Wanna Holler.com? Please let me know in the comments below.

---

For more on Fatherhood, Relationships & Lifestyle:

• Sign up for email updates 
• Become a fan on Facebook
• Follow MMWH.com on Twitter
• Subscribe to the MakesMeWannaHoller Channel on YouTube
• Read my parenting book

These days I have so many social media tools to maintain I sometimes overlook that they revolve around this blog. Good news falls through the cracks from time to time. Which brings me to the point: I am now a blogger at HuffPost BlackVoices. It is an honor, a privilege and a blessing to be able to tap into this new audience to share the good news about fatherhood and parenting. Hopefully I'll inspire a couple people while I'm at it. So far I only have one published post there but in time this will only grow.

I hope you'll visit me over there and subscribe, Like, Tweet, etc my articles over there. You all, my readers here, are my family and I need you to grow with me as I grow as I have no intention of forgetting my very humble beginnings here. I owe a significant percentage of my growth to you all, my base that I strive to keep engaged daily, weekly, monthly and yearly.

Thanks for reading, thanks for supporting and again please visit me over on my HuffPost BlackVoices page.

---

June 28, 2011, Atlanta, Georgia

But God and life had different plans for me. Many lessons came easy. To this day, some have been hard to embrace. But at a glance, they all seem easy enough --- as easy as A, B, C...

Often these simple little lessons that life has for us, in this case, fathers, are the hardest. In "DAD: As Easy As A, B, C!" I've picked 26 to share with you. Each one begins with a letter of the alphabet.

This is my 3rd book and it is no-nonsense common sense for DAD (and Mom too). It's a potent thought-provoking workout for any parent looking to step up their game with their kids and with themselves. It features forewords from Lamar Tyler & Kimberly Seals Allers, the author of the best-selling Mocha Manual Series. It also features workbook exercises to that will require not only Dad's input but also the input of his spouse or partner. With this book I want to raise the bar for Dads. And after reading this book I want Dads to raise the bar for themselves.

Available Now For Everyone
DAD: As Easy As A, B, C is available today at Amazon.com Kindle Store for the price of $7.99. Don't worry if you don't have a Kindle. Amazon has done a great job of bringing their books to you via their FREE apps for:

• iPhone
• iPad
  
• Android
• Blackberry
• Windows Phone
• Windows PC
• And your Mac
  

So whether you have a kindle or any of the above you can not only own a copy but you can read Dad As Easy As A, B, C! also.

Along with MakesMeWannaHoller.com, this book now joins my effort (through the written word) to increase father-involvement. It is my sincere desire to encourage and empower men who are and men who are about to be dads --- from the noncommittal to the thoroughly involved. All of us can use a shot in the arm from time to time.

DAD: As Easy As A, B, C! is just what the doctor ordered.

Today I hope you will join with me as I celebrate the launch of DAD: As Easy As A, B, C!

Download A Sample
If you haven't had a chance to see what the book is about you can read a sample here.

Buy The Book
Once you've done that please head on over to Amazon to purchase a full copy of DAD: As Easy As A, B, C!

For the moth of June and July, partial proceeds from the sale of the book will be donated to the National Fatherhood Initiative. That way you'll be supporting the advocacy of father-involved families on the national level also.

The Party Is Just Getting Started - Book Launch Events

Black Fathers Radio Show, Hosted by Matt Prestbury
8pm EST/5pm PST today - I'll be a guest of the show and discussing the book. Please tune in.
For more information visit: www.blogtalkradio.com/blackfathersradio

Impromptu-Last Minute Twitter Party/Book Chat
When: 9:07pm EST/6:07pm PST Today, Tuesday, June 28.

Topic: DAD: As Easy As A, B, C! (of course) & What Are the Ingredients of a "Good" Dad

1st Follow Me: @EPayneTheDad

2nd Log on at: Cut and paste the following link into your browser: http://bit.ly/kxXKOY then add your name to grid on the right.

3rd: The hashtag for tonight's chat will be: #DadBookabcChat

I'm looking forward to it. There may be a surprise or two for those who attend.

Thank you for all of you support!


E.Payne is the author of DAD: As Easy As A, B, C! and I Didn't Invented Sex. For the past 3 years he has posted 600+ articles about fatherhood, marriage and everything in between here at Makes Me Wanna Holler.com. To learn more, click here.

Coming soon as a download to the eBook Store here at Makes Me Wanna Holler:



If you like it, please share and retweet amongst your networks.

E.Payne is the author of Investing In An Emotional Letdown and I Didn't Invented Sex. For the past 3 years he has posted 600+ articles about fatherhood, marriage and everything in between here at Makes Me Wanna Holler.com. To learn more, click here.

Love - From The Male Perspective

Love Notes is a collection of poems and short stories concentrating on the elusive and insanity causing thing called love --- of course, from the male perspective.

It features a combined 18 poems and short stories that move you through misery and heartbreak to self-reflection, revelation and optimism to the ultimate destination: finding, securing and hopefully succeeding in love.

It is an exploration of the male heart and mind. As well a testimony to the fragility that exists beneath our "hardened" exteriors. It is candid and humorous at times, sad at others, but always hopeful. Men and women will enjoy and be able to relate to this read.

This 43-page eBook is just in time for Valentine's Day. Something to make you think, laugh and hopefully love! Now through Valentine's Day you can get your copy of Love Notes for 25% off.*

Read more after the jump...you have to jump to read more...

E.Payne is the author of Investing In An Emotional Letdown and I Didn't Invented Sex. For the past 3 years he has posted 600+ articles about fatherhood, marriage and everything in between here at Makes Me Wanna Holler.com. To learn more, click here.

After a long, sleepless weekend, I'm happy to present:



Love Notes, is an eBook collection of poems and short stories revolving around the elusive and insanity causing thing called love... written, of course from the male perspective. If you like it, please feel free to share this post. Thank you!

Tune back in tomorrow for the goodies!


E.Payne is the author of Investing In An Emotional Letdown and I Didn't Invented Sex. For the past 3 years he has posted 600+ articles about fatherhood, marriage and everything in between here at Makes Me Wanna Holler.com. To learn more, click here.

I've finally decided to throw my hat in the eBook ring. Love Notes will be available for download just in time for Valentine's Day.

Love Notes is easiest described as a neat and tidy collection of poems and short stories concentrating on the elusive and insanity causing thing called love --- of course, from the male perspective.

Stay tuned for updates. The most important being it will be available for download right HERE!

In the meantime, please feel free to share, email forward, FB, tweet and retweet (with the hashtag #LoveNotes), FriendFeed, GetGlue, YouTube or whatever it is you do when doing you via the Internet. Talking with someone about it also an option... Just a thought.

Also, let me know what you think of the cover above. Over a year ago I was blessed to capture the kiss of the two lovers featured on it while snapping pics of the Hudson River at the Yonkers Waterfront. I've looked at my shots of them again and again and thought to myself, "How random?" Now in 2011 this random picture is falling into place as a piece of a much bigger picture.

Peace.

E.Payne is the author of Investing In An Emotional Letdown and I Didn't Invented Sex. For the past 3 years he has posted 600+ articles about fatherhood, marriage and everything in between here at Makes Me Wanna Holler.com. To learn more, click here.

Join the Makes Me Wanna Holler.com Facebook Experience

Follow E.Payne on Twtitter @EPayneTheDad

It's Friday. Thank God It's Friday... If you weren't around this week, and even if you were, the following took the top spots on the blog this week:


The Most Viewed And the Most "Liked" On Facebook:

What A Single Woman Wants: Part 5


The Most Tweeted:

Fall Beers That Make You Wanna Holler!


The Most Commented On (for the 2nd week in a row):

Investing In An Emotional Letdown


And before you go head over to Black & Married With Kids where I'm giving my opinion on Understanding The Tough Guy.

Enjoy the weekend! Be safe! We'll catch up next week!


Have You Subscribed Yet? * Are You On Facebook? * Do You Tweet? * Did You Complete The Survey?

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

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.

From the Desk of E.Payne...

Dear Wanton Wanter of Love,


You want love so bad, you can taste it.

You want love because it is so necessary for your life.

You want love because you deserve it.

But do you even know what love is?

Do you know what it feels, tastes, smells and looks like?

Do you truly understand how patient and kind it is?

Can you fathom the burden of understanding that it must bear?

Do you know that love forgives and forgets all things done against it?

Do you even have the space in your heart required for love?

Do you know that love seeks the best for others

and pays little attention to itself?

Do you know the power of love?

Love ends wars, changes hearts and gives life.

Love raises children, saves lives at the expense of self

and makes Good Samaritans into local heroes.

Love teaches children to grow up to be leaders.

Love guides religious leaders in the right way to lead their flocks.

Love gives hope in the face of unimaginable tragedy.

Love heals wounds...in time...

Love makes the days go by beautifully.

Love is the perfect director of regret-free living.

How is it that you want to receive love when love is given?

If you truly want love, you won't want for it at all.

Instead you'll be ready and full of praise when it comes.

Ready to be nourished by it and nourish in return.

You'll recognize it immediately, because it is already inside of you.


Sincerely,

E.Payne



We have a great conversation brewing on our new Discussion page. I say, "our" because it's yours just as much as it is mine. Please stop by and contribute!




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 thinking lately that at 20 posts shy of 500, many of you who visit my blog are just taking it in on a daily basis. You don't see where or who I was 2 years ago when my baby was 2, my boy was 12 and I was a freshly minted married man. Now as I'm up for 2010 Black Weblog Nominations in the following categories: Best Writing In A Blog & Best Personal Blog (please visit and nominate me if you haven't done so already), and now that potential is brewing for me to create a real live book from the content of all these posts I wanted to reintroduce you to all that made and sometimes still makes me holler.

It is debatable whether the following list is the best of this blog but the metrics do not lie as far as what you the reader, reads. So to thank you for reading, rather than butter you up with giveaways (which isn't the worst thing in the world), I present the "Best" of me.

Thank you!

1. I Hate Cats


2. About Me (The Original)


3. Photos, Photos & More Photos


4. Married Life


5. The Worst Sex Talk EVER!


6. 7 Things You Should NOT Say To Your Wife...


7. When A Dad Attacks
   


8. Family


9. I Didn't Invented Sex


10. My Piano Keys


11. How To Love A Black Woman


12. Bullet Proof

To my more recent readers, please dig in.

To my oldheads who've been with me as I spit all this out, I hope you enjoy the walk down memory lane.

Thanks again for the support, and allowing me to share a little of me with you.

Ever heard the R. Kelly song, If I Could Turn Back The Hands of Time?

If you haven't you can read the lyrics here.

I wrote a book of poetry and short stories way back when. Contained on many of its pages are one lamentation after the other, forlorn, unrequited blah blah. Over the years people have told me how profound it is and how it speaks to them, or to a relationship they once had.

I was having a conversation with someone the other day about the book and it's contents. How it was compiled based on poems and short stories I wrote between the ages of 18 to 23. How if I had it to do all over again, I wouldn't. Not the book, but the experiences that served as motivation for many of the stories.

Even more, if I could travel through time now as grown-man E.Payne I'd be waiting for fresh faced E.Payne at every turn...

• When he opened the closet door in his dorm room, I'd be there to jump out to smack some sense into him.
• When he went to turn on his car to go driving off into the night to stalk a former lover, to plead at her window that she was the only one for him, the car wouldn't start because I'd arrive five minutes earlier to cut every single wire and tube under the hood.
  
• When he hatched some cockamamie scheme such as writing a script to read on the phone to that special someone who was no longer speaking to him. I'd turn the desk over and rip up the paper.
• When he got dressed in his best Willi Wear rayon ridiculousness to go to a party so he could maybe create a chance moment with the one who used to be his, I'd pop out of the underwear drawer, choke fresh-faced E.Payne out, dump a pile of VHS tapes all over him and make him stay home, keep him company and we'd watch some good movies. And then I'd go back further.
  
• In high school when fresh faced E.Payne opened his locker, I'd explode out of it and kick him up and down the hallways, throw him down a few of the iron staircases and beat him with his backpack until he begged me to stop. And when he would ask me why I was doing what I was doing I'd simply say, "You're too good to suffer the disrespect that is waiting for you in Algebra and Social Studies. You don't need to stay up nights listening to Sade, wondering why girls would rather have a bad guy who can't put a sentence together and only wants them for their bodies, to a decent fellow like you. There's nothing wrong with you. You wear glasses, that's all. Your parents are a little on the strict side but only because they love you. Don't do what I did. Don't change your outward appearance thinking people will accept you because they won't and when you realize this it's going to hurt like fire. And then you'll embrace what you knew all along, it's what's inside that counts. Don't hate yourself because you don't think anyone loves you. Love your God and love yourself and don't worry about what you can't control. Live everyday to the fullest, enjoy the little things, but stay mindful of the big picture." Then fresh-faced E.Payne, bloodied and broken, would say to me, "But aren't you me? How am I supposed to know what you know if I don't live as you did?" I would stare into my younger eyes, sigh, click my heels and disappear.

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If you're in NYC or the surrounding areas you were hit by an overnight snow that has now turned to rain. I love rainy days for a variety of reasons. In 1998 I wrote the following poem about a day just like today. It's quite ironic how fitting it is 11 years later...

As The Drip Drops
by Eric Payne

I rush out into the madness,
That soul stirring sadness,
We call the world today,
…and I found it raining.

I maintain a steady beat
To the patter that pitters
Away all the senseless chatter
That scatters the illuminations and dreams
That make men kings,
Over large and small things.
I think back, and I tarry on,
Down the street where the corner’s all wrong,
With its soot and its ashes, everything clashes.
There’s no harmony of green,
Or melody of blue or any other hue
--- for that matter.
The patter simply scatters the soot
Collected there, right there, over there…
By the donut shop, where the coffee’s hot
And nice…most times.

The hiss of the brush of leaves against
The patter is a wonderful beat
To set my stomp, as I romp
Through the playthings of my daydreams
Brought upon the noble saints,
That set pen to ink
Causing the whole world think,
About far off places
Not confined by small men’s spaces.
Freezing moments in time to reflect
On the prospect of respect for self and others.
As the world washes down will we ever discover,
How beautiful this place really could be?
If you’d just be you, and I’d simply be me?

The mute brought on by the hush of the patter,
Soothes the concerns that don’t really matter.
This moment is mine, not soon to shatter,
As I’m blessed by the caress of the pitter patter.

Copyright© 2001, excerpted from i see through eyes. Available everywhere.

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I would like to extend my appreciation to all of you who visited and continue to visit my article My Wife Is Not My Friend (on Facebook) over at Black And Married With Kids. As of midnight last night it was viewed over 3,000 times and received 51 comments. As of this morning that number is still climbing. Just to put things into perspective, Makes Me Wanna Holler gets a little more than 6,000 views PER MONTH! Without intending to, I seem to have connected with readers, both positively and negatively, in a way I never expected and set my own personal record for most views of a single piece I've ever written...in a day, a month and maybe even a year...not that I'm counting.

Thanks!

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Before this week is over my family and I will all be under the same roof once again after a long-feeling, but short in duration, summer spent apart.

• My 14 year-old, high school freshman, J.V. football playing son, will be hidden from view behind the door of his room embracing his Xbox 360 Live fighting online with his friends and refusing to show his face accept to raid the refrigerator.


• My daughter's daily activities will most like not be disrupted by her return home: watching a little bit of Noggin; coloring; drawing; counting; spelling; beginner's reading; demanding everything under the sun; and telling me what to do at every turn, despite the fact that I tell her she sounds rude and not like Daddy's Baby Girl (I'm not sure she gets it yet --- or cares).


• My wife and I will begin a new journey and chapter in our nine-year saga together as we head into the final days of our second year of marriage; celebrate (hopefully) both our birthdays in September; move into a bigger, but still temporary dwelling that will serve us all a little better in comfort, if not price; and move forward, doing our best to work together versus whatever it was we were doing this summer and have been doing for as many months as I can remember (just keepin' it real, folks).

This summer was a painful one for me. It was also quiet and at times lonely. At one point or another and at times overlapping each other...

• I didn't see my son for a month and a half.


• I didn't see my daughter for nearly two months.


• I didn't see my wife for three weeks.

When these incidents overlapped I found myself with a tremendous amount of time on my hands. With no job and a crumbling self esteem, I wasn't sure at first what to do. I almost felt paralyzed to move without the wife or some kid in tow. But alone with my thoughts I involuntarily began to deconstruct my life in an effort to make sense of it --- the life I lived when none of these other people comprised my life and the life I now live with them. My primary question was, how the hell did I end up as the head of a household? Am I doing enough? What am I not doing right? Why can't I do more? Are my kids happy? Is my wife happy? Am I happy?

After several days of solitude I discovered it is the answer to this last question that is the key to answering all the rest.

On this blog, I've made several mentions of being unemployed, I've even lamented about it. But I haven't talked about how much I love to sit down to crank out my posts from one day to the next (it's almost like a drug). I didn't mention the joy that overcame me when I took an introductory Adobe Dreamweaver class in July and discovered that as a result of blogging I've inadvertently taught myself HTML and CSS (and didn't really need to take the class). Or how the photos I've been posting lately come naturally to me. Or how an established artist pulled me aside to tell me I've missed my calling as a photographer and need to start taking classes yesterday. This summer and long since before then, I've focused on what isn't and overlooked what is.

My solitude was like a blank sheet of paper the size of a football field. I got to sit in the middle of it, look out across it, and retrace my steps while planting new ones. I vowed to do my best to relearn and embrace what it means to be me.

In July, I lost 10 pounds. In August, I traveled alone to Atlanta after having a fight with my wife that would've sent most men to their divorce lawyers or jail (just keeping it real), reconnected with old friends, both male and female, went to dinner (alone), attended an arts festival (alone), frequented a couple of bars, and visited a few schools (a scouting expedition for the kids), relied upon the kindness of strangers more than once as I was rained on repeatedly, attended a film fest, and in sum had a blast and managed to stay out of trouble the entire time I was there given what I left and what was waiting for me back home.

In August, I traveled to every corner of the five boroughs of New York, abandoning my distaste for burning gas and ungluing myself from my fear of going places alone if going alone meant doing the things I wanted to do versus sitting at home waiting for a friend to make time for me (which I did at first). I went to restaurants, bars, get-togethers, a play, cinema under the stars, street fairs, green markets and a couple of friends' author events. I eventually connected with friends who got on the same page with me and had some really great conversations.

In August (yesterday) I rented a bicycle in downtown Chicago and rode along the Lakeshore stopping only to snap photos and ultimately stopped cold by a city sponsored Triathlon route. I eventually abandoned the Lakesfront and rode through some beautiful downtown neighborhoods. And tonight, on the last day of August, I will board a train with my daughter for a 20-hour trip back to New York. I haven't ridden the train since 2001 and I decided I wanted the serenity and a glimpse of America's countryside on one of Amtrak's most scenic routes, accompanied by my daughter's wide-eyed enthusiasm. These are all things that I wanted to do and these were all things that I did, just like I used to when I was just a Man, when there was no Dad and no Husband. These were the things that added to the totality of me so that one fateful day in 2000, a woman would cross my path and make me into a Dad and a Husband.

In trying to make sense of life I've completely overlooked it's simplicity and probably made things more complex than they've needed to be. As far as work goes I've been so hell bent on seeking fulfillment (a bad thing when done in excess), somewhere it got lost in the translation that fulfillment comes from the richness of life provided by the fruit of my labor --- regardless of the labor. Meaning, if I wanted to, I could live like a king, but work for UPS. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with working for UPS. Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind more than a few times.

So like the birds of the air who live simply from point A to point B, why should I do any different? All I have to do is live each and every day to the fullest --- the good ones, the frustrating ones and the downright I-wish-I hadn't-even-got-up-ones. All I have to do is fight for the richest life for myself by simply getting up each and everyday (well maybe 6 out of 7) and giving my all to this life that has been given to me, pouring every ounce of myself into the moments I have with my children and the wife. It's like Reagonomics, a trickle down of my riches onto my family. If I'm happy and fulfilled with myself, then I will encourage/reprimand/build up/love/endow with life lessons/discipline my kids with prudence and sensitivity and a genuine heart. The same goes for when when I kiss/am honest with/am being a friend to my wife. That's all I have to do. And that's where the hardest challenge lies. Why? Because the only one who's been in the way of this, even when I've blamed others, always has been and always will be...me. Even when someone else is in my way it's up to me to get around them, or pray for the strength to do so. Think about it: the next time you talk about what you can't do or what someone is doing to you, listen to yourself. What word do you find yourself using more than any other? I'll bet you money it's "I".

The older I get the simpler life becomes. Not because life has gotten any simpler. It's actually gotten ridiculously complex, tragic and needlessly violent. But for me, with age, I'm finding my focus getting sharper. The distractions that have kept me trapped in a morass of complexity, especially the ones in my own head, are falling away with each passing day. In their absence, only the beauty and simplicity (even during the tough times) of life remains. It's up to me to keep it that way and I'm committed to doing so upon my return to a full house. The same goes for you and your life if any of this sounds familiar.

I hope you make it all make sense for you in your own special way.

See you in September.

Voting ends today!


Never Miss A Post

It's the weekend, folks and I rarely cater exclusively to my male readers or those who drink beer. The summer is nearly over, but it's still the summer and these are the hot days of August. I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine, a beer writer by the name of Ale Sharpton (of course that's not his real name). You can find his column at J'Adore Magazine. Talk about turning a passion into profit. This guy got his start back in the day writing about 40 oz. malt liquor, if you can believe that. Now he travels the world, drinking exotic beers, experimenting with pairings and writing it all down. I reconnected with him down in Atlanta last week and he gave me a quick clinic on a very tasty beer.

And I don't even like beer.

Presenting, Ale Sharpton:





Happy Friday! Stay tuned next week when I do a little backtracking, rehashing older great posts and presenting new stuff like the soca remix of I HATE CATS.

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I've been nominated for another blogging award and the voting runs through July 25, 2009. After today you can click the icon at the bottom of the right column of this blog.

• Vote because you feel compelled to let your voice be heard.
• Vote because you like what you read here.
• Vote because you don't have to register (only an email address is required).
• Vote...because I'm begging you.

Click the icon below to vote, pleeaase!



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As we head into Father's Day some chatter about me has suddenly stirred. On Tuesday we had Women's eNews that featured a blurb on me and now my blogging hermana, Carol Cain Alvarez, a.k.a. NYCityMama has done a feature article about my family and I on her blog today. Make sure you check it out.

So for now, enough about fathers. It is POURING and dark in New York City. I've gotten so accustomed to blogging I sometimes forget that I write fiction. If you've visited here before you know I have a thing for the rain. It's relaxing, it provides a great opportunity to read and it can be the backdrop for romance.

With that said, I'd like to share a micro-fiction (very, very short) story that I wrote for Spindle Magazine back in February of last year. I think it's appropriate for a day like today.

So here it is:

The Gentleman
by Eric Payne
Copyright 2008, Spindle Magazine - A New York State of Mind


The orange glow of a smoldering cigarette cast light on the smooth brown cheeks of the woman who stood, facing me.

"Smoking's bad for you," I said quietly outside her front door into the darkness that separated us.

"For all I know..." the woman said out of one side of her mouth while holding the cigarette in place with the other, "...you are too."

A few hours earlier we had been complete strangers sitting across from each other on the F Train from the City to Queens. I couldn't help but stare. She was gorgeous and I was nearly drunk after a night out with friends. Thirty years old and unconcerned with failure, it was easy to introduce myself. She told me her name was Jean, pronounced it the way the French do. From there I managed to talk her off the train at my stop to join me for a cup of coffee at a diner near my apartment. It got late quickly and she accepted my offer to drive her home.

"I only smoke outside every once in a while, but you're right, you know," Jean admitted with a sigh. "I actually quit a month ago...been holding onto this last pack...a crutch, I guess." She took two deep drags before letting the white stick fall from her fingers. We both watched the cloud of smoke rise and fade beneath the streetlights. She shrugged her shoulders and uttered a whimsical, "Oh well," then popped an Altoid.

"Maybe I make you nervous," I said smiling.

Jean gave me a sly smile as she bent down to collect her half-smoked cigarette. "Maybe," she admitted coyly.

She stood to open her door -- a heavy piece of oak attached to a well-manicured, brown brick Tudor on a treeless street in Laurelton. A bark sounding more like a question than a statement or a warning greeted us.

I peered over her shoulder.

"My boyfriend," Jean explained, smiling. "He doesn't like it when I'm out late."

"Big or small?"

"Medium...he's a mutt." Jean paused to glance up and down her block. "Well, what a pleasant surprise for a Thursday! I'm glad I didn't ignore you on the train...but it's getting late."

Before I could say anything, she grabbed the lapels of my jacket and pulled me close. Her funky, Flapper's bob tilted back as she gazed up at me. The full moon overhead floated as a reflection in her large brown eyes.

Jean stopped, seemingly suddenly aware of the mixed signal she was sending. She hastily let me go, leaving behind her prints in the black velvet of my jacket.

"Thanks for everything," she said in a restrained tone. "The conversation, the coffee, the ride home. And thanks for walking me to the door...you're truly a gentleman."

"Don't be a stranger," I said. "You have my number. Maybe we can get together for more coffee...or something."

"Or something. Goodnight, Elijah."

"Goodnight, Jean."

The door closed behind her. I stayed on the porch long enough to hear the lock click.

"Don't be a stranger," I muttered sarcastically to myself. Definitely not one of the smoothest things I've ever said to a woman. I took a deep breath, catching an unexpected soft whiff of her perfume on my jacket.

I descended the four gray stone steps of her porch headed for my car, cold and night nipping at me every step of the way. I appreciated Jean's self-restraint. I, myself, had given up one-night stands and all other kinds of meaningless sex at the beginning of the year.

But it was late and cold, and I was lonely. I would've taken her if she had taken me.

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Photo Courtesy of Photobucket.

I'm back from Atlanta after spending Friday playing chaperon to my wife while an Emory University admission officers showed us around. That evening we had an early dinner at an outdoor pub on Peachtreee Street and drank apple and peach Belgian beer. Then we had a couple of drinks with KNIGHT and his wife. And finally, I watched the Lakers finish off the Nuggets from the 23rd floor of the W Midtown while my wife was out with a friend she's known since birth. On Saturday, we looked at at least 12 houses which by the end of the day, left me nauseous. Yesterday, I was at Citi Field roasting like a peanut in the sun as I sat along the third base foul line. The Mets beat the Marlins 3-2. My son ate from the time he got there until about the top of the eighth inning.

And now I'm sitting in my dining room first thing in the morning tapping these words on my laptop. Today is June 1, 2009. Today (maybe not tomorrow) I don't have a job, I don't have any job prospects, and I don't have a viable source of income other than my savings (a big no-no for me).

June is shaping out to be a pivotal month for me, historically. Last year I was embarking on a fruitless war with my wife. The year before that our living situation with the in-laws collapsed and fell to about the 7th ring of Hell. And now in a month that we're supposed to be leaving our apartment, putting down on a home or at least deciding which one we want, watching our son graduate from 8th grade, and not to mention have a good time on Father's Day, I find myself being backed into a corner and walled in by my circumstances.

The employment thing didn't just happen. I choose not to speak about the negative and prefer to focus mostly on the positive. Not because I'm some great human being but because, if I begin to acknowledge the negative it grows taller and stronger than me, loses one eye and begins to breathe fire. In no time I'm not contending with a problem, but rather an one-eyed, fire breathing juggernaut that wants to eat me.

May was difficult for me because I was steps away (or so I thought) from closing a book deal. Instead the person who was my agent went from being completely communicative, to short and distant via email and left me flapping in the wind like a jilted lover. Immediately I didn't want to do anything since the thought of starting over from scratch was worse than death. An immense amount of disdain for this blog erupted in me as a result of needing validation or some kind of return on investment. Suddenly I wanted money from this thing other than the $143 I've made off of it since 2/08. Every day was exactly the same as the day before it. Here for the first time I felt pressured to keep it light and fresh and different, when it really, truly wasn't.

I actually don't mind not having the job I had. I believe it stopped the tidal wave of my taking jobs I believe I can do well, versus doing what I truly want to do. I worked for a women's non-profit and although the work we did for the young girls toward pregnancy prevention was out of this world, the office culture (which myself included, totaled 4 men) was less than pleasant. It was like being a human in Planet of the Apes. We were second class, marginalized in meetings, spoken down to and when push came to shove, most of us were let go. My boss in particular suffered from the overwhelming desire to speak to me like I was in kindergarten. And although she knew I was a family man, I don't believe she knew how old I was, nor remembered from my resume that I have a Master's Degree and have managed staffs before. I spent most of my time there making phone calls on her behalf, writing letters for her, sending out emails for her and not being allowed to make a single, effin' decision on my own, ever. She wouldn't sign off on any career development classes for me and occasionally insisted that I work late in the wee hours of the night with my coworkers who without a doubt, worked very hard, but worked long because they spent so much time talking throughout the day. It was a very big step backwards for me. One I hope I don't have to suffer for other than time served.

And now here I am, free and confined all at the same time. I'm now an At-Home Dad who loves writing, photography, graphic design and almost all things music but I was raised to get a job and didn't know the things I loved could ever be worthwhile jobs. So the things I love --- I have no work history and the things I hate --- well...

I have a family and they deserve the best from me. Isn't the best from me the best of me? I don't want to merely be a superhero in the hearts and minds of my kids who are programmed to believe so anyway. I want to be a man of impact for many. Now's my chance, but right now the playing field looks more like a minefield.

Check back tomorrow for more.

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