The Wedding



My father got married this past weekend. It was kind of nice. I was his best man/witness, which I didn't expect. The night before I went to his house and we hung out. I wanted to do the traditional pre-wedding activity and get him hammered and take him to some strip clubs and let some pretty young thing earn some money. But unfortunately I am broke right now and can't pay for too much of anything. Therefore, the strip club field trip is on hiatus. I'm not canceling it because every man deserves a bachelor party, even if it is belated. I also had my first drink with my father. I guess I had always been kind of nervous to drink with him. He knew that I did drink. He came to see me play rugby my freshman year at U of I and went to the party after the game for a second. He said, "Those motherfuckers are some drinking bastards! Damn!" It was even funnier back then. My father is a cognac drinker, unlike myself, who pretty much sticks to beer. Over the course of the bottle of cognac we talked about different things. It's kind of cool to be able to talk to your parents about "life" issues. Usually when my father and I speak it is about movies and/or sports. Most people say we act like brothers more than father and son. Our conversations aren't typical but then again I guess but us kind of nice to be friends with your father. He's still my dad but our conversations are really unlike any other father and son. We have talked about porn, booze, video games, and even the stupid things that women say in bed (like I said, we have a different type of relationship). It's a unique dichotomy, but it works for us. But on the night before the wedding, we talked about marriage. We talked a lot about marriage, knowing when it is time, making mistakes with women, forgiving, and ultimately about just what happiness is. My dad said that most people get married for someone else. He said that people should live for themselves and try to please themselves because if you can't love yourself how can you ever expect to be able to love someone else? My dad said that there is no "perfect" match, but there are people who are more compatible than others. He said that his wife had supported him in every endeavor he pursued and took a genuine interest in myself and my sister. This is true. She is a good woman. She likes to cook (which is the way to a big man's heart), likes sports (the way to a big sportsman's heart), and doesn't want to try to change a person. The way my mom always explained it to me is that most marriages that fail, fail because people change in opposite ways. People do change, it is inevitable, but as long as people can communicate and retain similar beliefs, things should work out. My dad also said he was still nervous, which was evident the next day during the ceremony. Men don't have the psychological capacity to handle the concept of marriage until the age of about 35 according to my father.
I didn't know how exhausting it can be just to stand up until that Sunday. The ceremony happened after Sunday service. I wasn't even getting married and I felt nervous, which means my father probably felt like a porn star in the middle of Sunday school. Hearing the sacred vows does something to the male psyche. It's like every facet of life you had known you are renouncing and putting every ounce of faith, trust, and honor in this other individual. I know my dad made the right decision, but I also knew I was far from being ready for marriage after almost passing out from hearing my dad and stepmom repeat the vows to one another. The worse part about the ceremony was standing up there and shake hands with all those strangers who probably didn't give a fuck about my existence but put on a nice false expression of complacency. I tried to mask my contempt for the practice by forcing a smile on my face while all those people walked by. I know its a necessary part of the ceremony but it sure seemed like bullshit while I was up there enduring all that pretentiousness.
I don't even have a girlfriend so its not a relevant issue right now, but I feel marinated in marriage. All my friends are getting married and starting families. Sometimes I think, "What the hell is wrong with me?" The answer is absolutely nothing. It's just not my time yet. Maybe one day I'll get married, who knows? I keep telling people when I meet a woman who likes ESPN, fishing, and doesn't have a gag reflex I'm going to be waiting for her at the alter. Until that day, I'll just be a bystander in the world of commitments watching from a safe non-obligatory distance. And that is fine with me.

Fantasy Land



This is the first week of school for SIU, and probably most colleges across the country. Thinking back on it, I always used to love the first four weeks of college. When I was a freshman at U of I, I was not prepared for the social transition from my quiet, conservative Belleville existence to the vast craziness and random chaos that college represented. The brochure for U of I guaranteed a quality education at an affordable price. The education I received was not what was advertised.
For most people, college represents a time when you can suspend your disbelief and basically do whatever you want to do. No curfews, no parents, a student body that is more than willing to "expand your horizons", no bills (unless mommy and daddy won't fork the bill like my parents), no kids, no responsibilities. When I say no responsibilities I mean that for the first time in most students lives, the educational process is purely voluntary. You can choose to go to class, or you can choose to stay in your dorm and watch DVD's and download mp3's illegally. Being the ultra nerd that I am, I decided to go to class. But what I did notice on my way to class were girls. Willing girls. Since I had not even kissed a girl until college, I was pretty much dumbfounded by the female species.........I still am in a way. For a guy, it doesn't get better. Every year a fresh crop of toned post-high school bodies, unsullied by keg stands, late night pizza, and lack of high school athletics. The window for the "hot" freshman body usually lasts until about mid October. By then the girls will probably be acclimated to college(which is code for having obtained a good fake ID or a valid ID that is remarkably similar) and become good friends with the Mexican guys who work at the burrito joint they stumble to in their drunken stupor after the bars kick them out. The first four weeks of school pretty much the equivalent of grown up kindergarten. All the classes focus on syllabi, you get fed all the time for no other reason than to deceive you to join a group or attend a meeting to join, the girls are still in their hot phase and able to wear their hook up gear. If you don't know what hook up gear is I'll give a list:
1. Halter top
2. Booty pants (either black or tan.......and YES every girl has a pair)
3. Strap shoes
For those willing to endure the perpetual idiocy of the dance club scene you WILL find a girl who IS dressed like this. I'm not saying that every girl who dresses this way wants to engage in sexual activity. But as a wise man once said, "Every girl is that type of girl. It's just a matter or who and when." I'm all about respect, but how can you respect someone who wears ass floss and has the nerve to call it underwear? More than that, how can you respect a woman who will pretty much have virtual anal sex with a guy under the pretense that it is dancing? For those just entering college I say good luck. For those coming back, I give one piece of advice: DO NOT LEAVE!! DO NOT PASS GO!! DO NOT START YOUR 401K!! Think about it. There's a reason people say they leave college for the "real" world. College is an existence predicated on perpetual experimentation and evolution. The "real" world can kick your ass. After college, I only have a vague recollection of when it wasn't kicking mine. As my man said in Garden State, "Have fun exploring the infinite abyss!"

My Birthday


Today is my 25th birthday. It didn't quite go the way I had expected but it turned out pretty well. I went to work today and my first hour class was not very agreeable. But then again we are studying Puritan literature. I'm not going to lie. If I was 16, I'd be bored as fuck as well. We're studying Jonathan Edwards. The students absolutely HATE it, and they probably aren't too fond of me for assigning it. I promised them that we would do a reflective paper on music this week. I'll probably lose more cool points when they find out I like John Coltrane more than Mike Jones. I just don't understand modern music. All that noise and no cohesion. It sounds like a lot of nothingness. You can't even reflect on it because you can't hear yourself think. I do like Mos Def and Talib Kweli though. They rock.
My parents probably tried to call me this morning, but my cell phone decided not to charge. My cell phone is pretty much on dialysis. Once I get my first paycheck I will be able to free myself from the shackles of primal technology. Damn you Sprint!!! I'm sure once I solve the riddle of the Sphinx and get the thing to charge I will be met with the wondrous outcries of , "Happy birthday boy! Get that damn phone fixed!"
I let the secret slip that today was actually my birthday to one of my classes. One kid asked how old I was. I told him and he was like, "I thought you were in your 30s." I was like, "Son of a bitch!" There is nothing wrong with being 30 but when you hear you look 30 when you are 25 you feel like you have leprosy or something. When I was home my mother pretty much told me that after 21 birthdays don't have any validity. She has a point. I remember being so excited about turning 18 and moving to Champaign, IL for college. Then 19 was awesome because it was the age in which you could legally enter U of I bars. 20 was fun because you were one year away from 21 and you could pretty much get away with the same things. 21 was the mecca because you can drink legally. But here is what you don't know about turning 21. If you spend your collegiate career exposed to the bar scene and drink when you want, turning 21 is not that big deal. You finally have legal permission to do something you've been doing for the past 4 years anyway. What's the point? To tell the truth, every year after 21 has been a blur. Life after college has been a blur. People move, friendships evaporate into chance encounters, and past relationships become distant haunting memories. I've tried to sustain the relationships I formed in my undergraduate life, but it just is tough. Life has a way of changing things and people. Its both remarkable and sad. I have a high value for friendship and don't have many true friends, so its kind of tough to let them go and move on.
I got a few cards and a few e-mails. I suppose that is enough. I also saw "The 40 year old virgin" which is pretty damn funny. All in all, it was a good day. The people I wanted to hear from gave their congratulations and that was fulfilling in a way that I did not expect. The days of drinking excessively just out of a whim just don't appeal to me anymore. I have a job now and I guess I'd rather just know that there are a few people out there who give a damn about me rather than marvel in my own magnificence and render my liver futile. I don't like the idea of being an adult and maturing, but I suppose growing up is better than the alternative.

The Shape of Things



I've recently started giving serious consideration to the nature of relationships between men and women. I guess it stems from the fact that I'm at a transitional period in life where all my friends are starting to settle down and start families. I don't really have anything against the concept of marriage. I believe that marriage is a beautiful concept, in which two people in love unite in a house of God and pledge themselves to one another forever. That is awesome. Now divorce on the contrary.............divorce is a mother fucker. Divorce is bitter, vindictive, cruel, and malicious in the worse sense of the word. I've seen divorce up close and personal and let me say that I've seen the strongest of men get reduced to tears. I find the nature of love and the evolution of love to be so fascinating. Some people believe in "love at first sight" and there are others who believe that love is built over time. Personally, I have always thought the whole "love at first sight" idea to be complete and utter bullshit. How can someone be totally attached to someone emotionally in the span of several seconds? 9 times out of 10 people are in lust and not love, and lust is fleeting. I'm not going to lie and say that I've never felt lust at first sight, but I'm not pretentious enough to try and disguise lust as love. More than the idea of love at first sight is the more complex idea of what is love? I've always thought that real love involves a level of sacrifice that most people cannot fathom. Most people are so desperate to connect with someone......anyone for that matter that they augment the nature of love to fit their particular situations. No one wants to be alone and exist in total isolation. The question is how to distinguish real love from the illusion of love? I guess to be able to know the difference people must accept the fact that love is reciprocal and anything that is not based on mutual affection and admiration for the other person isn't love. In my own life, I guess I've fallen prey to the same trap of augmenting myself to fit a supposed standard that I believed women wanted. I guess I don't want to play Superman anymore. I kind of like being the natural man, that I am. Since I've stopped changing, I suppose I want to examine why people are so eager to couple together. Maybe those of us who are film buffs enjoy watching two physically appealing people come together in excessively coordinated situations and display dialogue that ignites an inherent sense of longing in those watching the process unravel. I guess in the end it is the process that is so universal that people just love to see it. Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Girl falls back in love with boy. Happily ever after. Its the utopian design of romance. Sometimes its a fucked up situation, but then again sometimes it can change your life in a very fundamental way.

First Day


Today was my first day of work teaching high school English. It was a surreal experience. It was only a half day of school but it felt longer. I wouldn't say I was nervous but I was more excited to go. I had to put my game face on. A girl in my first hour class asked me, "Mr. Phillips, are you ever going to smile? I'm a happy person." I replied in the negative. I don't consider myself mean-spirited or cruel but one fact I do know is that students respect strength, not weakness. Unfortunately teachers cannot show compassion to their students, not initially anyway. I have heard that teachers should not smile until December. I don't know if I'll adhere to that policy but I don't plan to become too chummy with the students. I never realized the pressure to perform every hour, every day, for nine straight months. Standing in front of a class can be intimidating but I think that the more prepared an educator is the more secure he/she feels.
The amount of information being bombarded on me is unreal. All the shit that is regurgitated to me in board meetings, faculty meetings, and department meetings is just ridiculous. Things I've never thought about, like insurance and retirement funds, are now a priority. As a 24 year old, the furthest thing from my mind is the end of my working life. The only goal I have is to teach my students to the best of my ability and show them the universal qualities of English that make it the best field of study on the planet. I don't guarantee fun but I hope to invoke a sense of genuine interest and appreciation for the subject matter, helping students to become independent thinkers. My worse fear is to allow students to believe that it is not ok to question. Hopefully my students will be able to transcend their role as adolescents and become fully-functional and informed adults, capable of juxtaposing their existence in the world to what they are studying. Time will tell I suppose.

Graduation day


I've recently completed work for my master's degree. My master's is in MAT (master's in arts of teaching) or we can just say I got my master's in education which is what I tell people. The ceremony was OK. It was too long for me. They could have mailed me my damn degree, which I found out they are going to do anyway. What I'm wondering is why graduation is supposed to be this glorious culmination of academic efforts and then the university charges you to graduate? Not only graduate but to pay for the cap and gown and God forbid you have to get announcements, which are the biggest rebuffs known to man. My mother, who is the equivalent of a black June Cleaver/Mrs. Klump from "The Nutty Professor", was very happy but didn't forget to mention that I did not send our church announcements that I was graduating. I was like, "Mom, those people could care less." Its like the Chris Rock joke goes, "Black people have really fucked up priorities. If you do something successful you're thought of as arrogant. Or a "smarty art nigga". You think you're better than me because you got your master's. You think you're my master nigga! Well let me ask you this. Can you kick my ass?" Its a fucked up situation. I know church is supposed to be a house of God but I've seen a lot of contempt in church and found it pretty depressing. Most of the time I just like to sit in the back and mind my own business. I look at the huge churches on television with thousands of members and the whole essence of going to church in the first place seems like a facade. The whole point of church, I always thought, was to gain a sense of intimacy with God. How can you do that with 10,000 people supposedly worshipping at the same time? Anyway, I've officially got my master's degree. My grandmother didn't forget to lay some guilt on my as well. She asked me, "Why don't you stop dating those white girls and find a good black girl to settle down with? You and your daddy are just the same. Neither of you has patience with women." I wanted to say, "Because black girls don't suck dick." But I decided that's a war that would be better left alone. Sometimes I wish I could trade brains with Dr. Dre and make my life easier.

Starting up


I really don't know why I've decided to start this endeavor. I guess in the shape of things I want to explain myself to the world and maybe deduce some of the craziness that is life. I'm kind of a conundrum. I now have a real job and real responsibilities but I don't feel any older. I guess I always thought that when I hit my mid twenties I'd "feel" like an adult. I don't feel any different from my pre-teen and teenage years. Its kind of crazy. I thought life would be like "The Wonder Years" where I would be able to reflect on the infinite abyss of life with genuine nostalgia and appreciation but it all still seems so brand new to me. This blog will have movie reviews (because I am a filmaholic), ramblings about life, love, politics, and even some flashbacks. I am making all who read this aware of one thing. I don't like to bullshit. It really annoys me and some people think it makes me comes off as callous and bitter but I just think that a lie is the cruelest act that the human mind can inflict because it is based on man's deception of his fellow man and that is hypocrisy at its worse. Well as Emily Watson said in Punch Drunk Love, "Here we go."