I don’t know if there’s such a thing as a ‘super-hero’ complex, but if there is, I’m sure I have it.
Some superheroes are born with superpowers; some acquire them via some weird happenstance, like being catapulted onto the earth from another planet in outer space.
I think I have a combination of both, because I’ve always been Naturally Crunk.
But during my childhood, I also experienced many episodes of blunt trauma to the head.
I was very clumsy and my peripheral vision took awhile to develop, I had an extreme case of tunnel vision. Zero in on what I wanted and pay no attention to anything else that was in the way.
BOOM!!! (Loud crying)
What happened???
D ran into the glass table and bust his head wide open!!!
Again???!!!
I kept a various array of knots, bumps and bruises on my forehead. And after my last trip to the emergency room to get x-rays to see if my ankle was broken (I had jumped off the top of my bunk bed in another episode of ULTRA-MAAAN!!), I had to talk to a couple of Child Protective Service agents.
Did your father hurt you?
Huh? I fell.
I know, but does your father ever hurt you?
Yeah, he gives me whuppings all the time.
Does he hit you in the face?
No, he hits me on the butt with belts and switches.
What about your mother? Does she hurt you?
Yeah, she whups me more than my daddy do.
All the time, they had my father in another room interrogating him. My father isn’t the type of person who has a lot of patience with white people trying to get in his business.
Hell yeah I whup his butt when he gets out of line, he’s MY son!! If ya’ll got a problem with it, then ya’ll take him and clothe him and feed him everyday!!
When we were leaving the hospital going back to the car (no broken bones, just a bad sprain) I knew we weren’t going to be coming back there unless I was near death. Especially when my daddy looked at me and asked me, ‘What the hell were you telling them white folks??”
Fortunate
ly, I made it through childhood healthy and alive.
I was having some problems in grade school and paying attention at home. Every time somebody said something to me they had to repeat it, because I would give them this confused look and be like, ‘Huh??”
It got so bad, that my mother thought I was having some sort of inner ear disturbance or something. My dad just looked at me and shook his head, “Something just ain’t right with that boy, he acts like he retarded.”
I had to go to one of those doctors where they test your hearing and cognitive thinking skills. By the time the examination was over, the doctor, flipped off his stethoscope and said, “His hearing is perfectly fine Ms.
Once that doctor said that, and my momma paid him his fee, she zeroed in on me like a Patriot missile 0n a Scud missile. Zero tolerance was in effect.
Mess up and do something you know you’re not supposed to? Butt whupping and go sit in your room with no TV, radio or toys. All I could do was sleep, stare at the wall or read a book. And thus, my penchant for the written word was born. I spent a LOT of time in isolation.
My dad tells folks all the time that I normally had to get 3 whuppings a day, all before lunchtime. And by the time I got that 3rd whupping, I was okay for the rest of the day. Hard head boys are different from ‘normal’ children.
Some people don’t think corporal punishment is a ‘humane’ thing to do to a child.
I’m on the other end of the spectrum. If it wasn’t for those butt whuppings that my mother, father, grandparents, aunts and uncles put on my behind, I’d be a different person. The village definitely raised me.
Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it. - Proverbs 22:6 KJV
Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. - Ephesians 6:4 NASB
Hard heads make soft butts and pretty soon, you’ll get tired of being punished all the time and you learn to obey. Once a child understands stop and sit down? Let the discipline begin.
Fast forward to the teenage years. My senior year in high school, at the renowned Booker T. Washington and the High School for Engineering Professions in
Booker T. was the first public school in 
re it moved to its current location on Yale and East 39th.
Principal F.D. Wesley walked those halls of Booker T. for 50 years and molded thousands of young black minds. Although he passed away this past summer, he will always be my principal along with all the rest of the students whose diploma he signed.
I'm so glad, Jesus set me free.
Sing glory, halleluia, Jesus set me free!
I was at a high school Houston Area Model United Nations (HAMUN) conference at the
Hello?
Hey son.
Wazzup Dad?
A letter came in the mail today from Stanford and since it had my name on it, I opened it.
(My heart skipped a beat..this was the week that college acceptance/rejection letters were sent out) You opened my mail???
It had MY name on it!!
(I had to let the invasion of privacy issue go, my dad could get belligerent when he wanted to)
What does it say?
You got in. Congratulations.
I could barely remembering hanging up the phone, because you just get kinda numb when something you REALLY want comes to fruition. My grades, test scores and essay were good enough, I was accepted to
Unfortunately, a couple of my classmates at Booker T. had already received their reject
ion letters from Stanford, so I didn’t want to just gloat and rub it in their face. So instead I took a ride to my podna LaGette Kemp’s house in Hillwood, because I knew he would be happy for me.
He was having another one of his famous house parties and it was CRUNK by the time I got there, and as soon as he opened the door, I started smiling.
Wazzup D??
He could tell by the look on my face that something was up.
I got in to Stanford.
It was the first time I had said it out loud and it made my whole body smile.
NO SH’T!!??!!! SAY MANE!! Ya’ll turn the music down!! My boy D.Wash is going to STANFORD mane!!!
I was greeted with shoulder slaps, hugs from all the honeys, high fives and of course all the beer and liquor I could drink. Southside love. A lot of hard heads never make it out of the hood. God had a different plan for me.
Stanford has a week in the spring that all prospective freshmen (ProFro’s) can come and visit the campus and get acclimated to what Stanford life is like.
More specifically, the black community at Stanford has a Black Recruitment Orientation Committee which targets the incoming black freshman.
When I arrived at the airport in 
The African American Theme House is called Ujamaa, a Swahili word that means Cooperative Economics. Ujamaa is also one of the 7 principles of Kwanzaa. A holiday created by this guy named Dr. Maulana Karenga, to focus more on the African tradition of celebrating. Not necessarily Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, but just geared toward a celebration of the black family and community.
Ujamaa is an L-shaped 2 –story dorm that’s separated into two wings, A-wing and B-Wing. It was during BROC weekend that I had my first experience with the infamous ‘B-Wing’. You might hear some Public Enemy or see a biggo Red, Black and Green flag hanging on a door when you walk through B-Wing.
1st floor was all women. 2nd floor Men. Community bathrooms in the middle of the hall.
We were hanging out in B-Wing in the lounge. Watching Cosby Show and A Different World. Laughing. Talking. You might catch a REALLY deep conversation concerning the African Diaspora’s Effect on Dance in the 
on which was better, Cocoa Puffs or Dig’em Smacks.
I ended up spending most of my time hanging out with this guy named Mike from
We were both going to attempt to jump from the 1st landing area of stairs on B-Wing and grab and hold on to the ledge on the 2nd floor. Leading from the lounge is a staircase to the second floor. It’s one of those wide staircases that you could bring a grand piano up on it if you wanted. It had 2 sets of steps, once you reached the landing area, the 2nd set turned back the other direction, but still going up. I don’t know WHAT made us decide to try this crazy stunt, but we had an audience, we were excited to be in a new environment, and we wanted to show out for the ‘honeys’. In case you forgot, this is how 17 year old boys get attention from women. they ‘show out’. So I went first.
When I jumped, I had a moment’s hesitation as I took off. “You know…you MIGHT not make it to the ledge” but I brushed this off and tried anyway. I made it to the ledge, with my right hand, but my left didn’t quite make it. Instead of giving up immediately and balancing myself for the fall, I tried to shift my weight and THROW my left hand up on the ledge…mistake. I lost my grip with my right hand and fell down a flight of stars. horizontally.
When I landed on the floor of 1st Floor B-wing I was thankful that the architects of that building had saw fit to build the hallways elevated off of the concrete foundation. Because when I hit the floor, I literally bounced. A couple of times. Wood and concrete are both hard to fall on but if I had my druthers, I’d take the wood. Once the loud thud resonated throughout the hallway, lounge, campus, there was an eerie silence.
What was THAT???
Oooooooh!!! Are you alright??
Is he moving???
Is he breathing???
What happened, did he fall?
I lay motionless. Trying to wait until the tingling sensation down my right side subsided. Hmm..can I move my fingers? Can I move my toes? Is my back broke??
Slowly but surely the numbness wore off…good, nothing broken. They slowly helped me to my feet.
Are you ok?
Do you need to go to the doctor?
Yes, I’m ok. No, no doctor. Damn this is embarrassing.
Everybody was staring at me to see if I was going to collapse, cry or smile.
Being the showman that I am, I gave a weak smile and joked, “now let’s see YOU do it Mike.”
Everybody laughed. Some even howled.
He’s ok!! He’s alright! Now it’s ok to laugh at his crazy az!!! Who IS that?? That’s that crazy brother from
The really wild part, is that even after I almost broke my back, Mike tried the same stunt and pulled it off!!! I can’t stand show-offs. Shoot. Anyway.
The rest is history.
Super Dave and his sidekick Mike Pick.
And here it is almost 20 years later and I’m STILL pulling stunts (see Hittin Licks) just on a less physical level. Most of the stunts I pull now are with the pen. And my podna Mike is still as determined as ever, as evidenced by his rise to the position of Chief Financial Officer (CFO) of Black Entertainment Television Networks, which I think is a pretty cool deal.
