I’ve got nothing today. I really have to get focused and finish up this short story that is due … now. Luckily, I don’t have to have anything. Wrath James White, familiar to some of my long time readers, had a recent post that deserves to be widely read. [Look, no one is more surprised than the two of us that people who have such … disparate worldviews as Wrath and I are friends. It just goes to show you that if you respect each other and are willing to listen, you can have relationships across the political and spiritual spectrum.] Anyway, I think this would be of interest to any who are regular readers of my rantings. It is a meditation on race and culture centering around the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. holiday. Read and enjoy.

Am I Living the Dream?


On a completely different note, it has long been one of those acting axioms that one should never work with children or animals. I think it had something to do with being upstaged. Or the fact that they are unreliable performers. After today, I’m definitely leaning towards the latter, but let me start at the beginning.

A local weekly, Intake Magazine, was looking to do an article on “myspace” and some of its users. They stumbled across my myspace, saw that I was not a band looking to promote itself nor a guy entering the dating meat market, and chose me as one of the people they wanted to highlight. The photographer came to our house, to take pictures of me in my natural environment. As you can imagine, every male with the last name Broaddus decided to squeeze into as many pictures as possible. Needless to say, she fell in love with us.

Unfortunately, Nuvo, the other local weekly, came out with a cover story on myspace this past week, so Intake had to scrap their planned story. However, the writer enjoyed talking to me–I mean, honestly, who wouldn’t?–so he decided to do an artist profile on me. The focus of the issue turned to the topic of internet dating, so I ended up giving the writer my friend to use in that piece, which will appear in the same issue. Since the internet dating piece is the focus of the issue, they wanted “cupid” on the cover. Did I mention that the photographer really loved our boys?

This is where the story takes an ugly turn. I don’t know what children showed up at the second photo shoot, but they weren’t mine. Also, I don’t know what parents showed up at the photo shoot, but they weren’t me and my wife. They were some sort of crazed stage parents, cajoling their kids with bribes of candy and visits to Chuck E. Cheese.

They wanted no part of having their pictures taken. Malcolm, usually the one least likely to cooperate in any picture taking activity, did the best. Now, granted, they had to run around in essentially a diaper and a set of wings, but this was a cover shoot. Malcolm practiced that art of pouting super model. No lie. Every time I said smile, he pursed his lips even more (forget it, reverse psychology didn’t fare any better). Reese, who had been running around in a Care Bear costume all morning (yes, it’s a cute picture, but to keep things in perspective, they are capable of an equal amount of chaos: Exhibit A and let’s not forget, Exhibit B), suddenly developed stage fright. He would only pose as a fallen angel. Literally. Sprawled out in his white diaper and crooked wings. Thank God for photo shop.

At any rate, said issue comes out February 9th. We’ll see then how the pictures came out.

On the way home, they finally livened up. Maybe it was the weather that had them in an odd mood. Foggy and overcast, which I tried to explain to them:

“Daddy, what’s fog?”
“Um, last night a cloud died.”

Since I don’t know where you are reading this, the best way to guarantee me seeing your comment is to post on my message board. Or simply drop by to say hi.