From: kenny@osf.org (Kenneth Crudup)
Subject: Re: Interracial Dating (The Atomic Dog Speaks)
Organization: Open Software Foundation
Distribution: usa
Date: Wed, 11 Nov 1992 23:03:34 GMT

In article <1drk12INNcgp@morrow.stanford.edu>
HF.GTD@forsythe.stanford.edu (Gabrielle Daniels) writes:
>Frankly, dude, if you wanna have fun, great.  But front with your
>partners...not string them, that's the point. Maybe then, my girl
>wouldn't have thought you were serious and wasted her time dreamin
>and schemin.  But perhaps that's your line anyway.

But, see, that ain't it at all. This whole thing was going along just the
way I wanted it- no one (she didn't, and I sure as hell was never)
ever brought out sticky, problematic words like "love" or "future" or 
"commitment" (consider also this is the word they also use when they throw
you in the looney bin), so we were just doing our thing, having a good time,
going everywhere and doing everything. I respect and care for the woman
I'm with. If this constitutes "strangin'", well hell, I'm sorry. I should
know what is and what ain't by now- I've been at this since I was thirteen
years old, and have plenty of "field experience" to go by. Maybe, like I 
eluded to in another post, certain appearances, possesions, actions and
careers may subconsiously put ideas in somone's mind, but this wasn't an
active thing on my part. (Maybe I'm just nice to be with- <gasp>!)

Anyways, I guess one day Oprah had on "Older Women and Their Younger Men Who
Won't C*mm*t (sorry) To Them", so I get presented w/this ultimatum. So, like
any self-respecting hey-I-haven't-lived-yet,-what-the-hell's-up-with-you-why-
you-wanna-ruin-a-good-thing Cold Hearted Brother (tm), I did my best Jesse
Owens and bailed.

Now, before you all go col'-slammin' them "R" and "F" keys, let me present
a little background. I grew up po', Black and nasty. Try as my mother could,
we had very little. Like, for about a year there was no food save school
lunches 2-3 times a week, and I had to share a bed with my two brothers for
what seemed like forever. My world consisted of the dangerous, empty downward
spiral of a big-city urban lower class existance until events too voluminous
to expound on here brought me to my Grandmother's in another city, where it
was discovered that the boy had half a brain. With my Grandparents'
guidance (and some good, needed, old-fashioned Black "you live in my house,
you do by my rules or I'll hurt you" discipline), I made it to college, and
from there, into The Real World.

I did some smart things, I did some lucky things, and now I'm a self-employed
consultant with everything I want. I have contracts and deals going on every-
where. Now I eat in the best restaurants in Boston. Now I have two queen-
sized beds and two bathrooms which I have all to myself at home. My mother
sends a lot of her bills to me, and my Grandparents are now going to all
those places they couldn't before. I learned how to take care of myself, and
have sworn to myself that I will *never* have to live like I used to when
I was younger. And, just like IBM all the way down to the street corner
drug dealer, I will do whatever I have to to protect my way of life and
standard of living, which means I have to work hard and let nothing get in
the way of my career.

Sometimes I work a 14-hour day. Sometimes "she" can't handle that.
Sometimes I have to go out of town on business. Sometimes "she" can't handle
  that.
Sometimes after a long week I want to be alone, sometimes cutting into
  free time "reserved" for "her". Sometimes "she" can't handle that.

I could go on, but the idea is clear- right now, I just can't let someone
interfere with my work. To be sure, I crave female company, and many is the
meeting I've been late for, or the module that's been late, or the work
hasn't been 100% because I've been with someone special. (All work....)
When I'm there, I'm there. When I'm busy, I'm out like George Bush.
I'm don't have the stuff to juggle both without one suffering, so when it
looks like it's getting to the point where someone requires a lot of
"maintenance", '5000, G.

Cold? Sure.
Melodramatic? Hey....
Can I live with myself? Every day.
Freudian basket case? Matter of opinion.
Is this going to change? Eventually, but don't wait up.

In the short time I've been alive, I have found out that there may not always
be another contract, or another project, or another job, but there will 
always, ALWAYS be another woman. The doomsayers (usually the married or
otherwise c*mm*tt*d) are always reciting the "one day, The Right Woman will
come along and rock your world" litany, not realizing that some have already
come and gone, and besides, I don't buy it. The decision to c*mm*t will
ultimately be mine, and mine alone.

	-Kenny

p.s. - what's the "T" for, Ms. D?
-- 
Kenny Crudup, Contractor, OSF DCE QA
OSF, 11 Cambridge Center, Cambridge, MA 02142	+1 617 621 7306
kenny@osf.osf.org			OSF has nothing to do with this post.
	  Religion: The longest-running gag ever played on Mankind.