Close Relatives and Others by Sir Leonard (e manga reader .txt) 📕

for sale on my website at: www.fitthitrecords.com, for many years I've been aspiring to become a skilful guitar player; but without success. Prior to going on the road with my records, I set out to learn to master the guitar. I no longer wanted to waste my time taking guitar lessons, learning theory and practicing scales; I went in search for a guitar preceptor who could personally show me how to play my songs on the guitar--not teach me! The music shop where I shopped for my guitar supplies, I inquired of the owner what I needed. He gave me the phone number a popular, well known musician who had the qualifications. I call the musician and started taking lesson under him. From the get go, I found out that he was plagued with many family problems. He confided in me and implied my input, which I'm totally against! After observing his step- children and wife verbally abuse and disrespect him publicly, I no longer could stand by without holding my peace; so, I brazenly, straight up told him that in my opinion he was an intruder in his own home. His wife and her kids didn't give a damn about him; and that he should pack his things and get the hell on!

The above things I said to James forever changed things between him and me! He started making excuse for being too busy to continue teaching me guitar lessons. He would still come by my house and chill. At that time I was adamantly about getting Congress to Impeach President Bush for lying and fraudulently making up the Iraq war. I would let him read some of the memos I was writing Congress. He always tries to critique my writing. So, one day he when he was reading one of my memos, he called my attention to the word "hole" I had used in the memo. He said it was the wrong word; and that I should have used the word "whole." He and I had it out once and for all. I straight up told him that he knew nothing about writing and for him to just stick to music! That didn't seem to help. The hating and critiquing continued. Every time I attempted to discuss the issue with him, he would always say, "That's your opinion!" Since I couldn't talk to him, I decided to write him the following document:

A Quarrelsome, Argumentative Attitude--an Indicative of Low-self Esteem

Many a people have attempted to disguise and camouflage their low-self esteem through the channel of argument. Fortunately, God has given me the innate ability to detect this flaw anyway. Oh, yes! I know that after reading this note, you’re going to do a back flip and throw a conniption fit; but, nevertheless, the fact still remains the same.

Furthermore, another ominous (or warning of fact) fact is when these insecure individuals start “hating” on other’s progress and accomplishments. Unfortunately, these “hate-mongers” end up self-destructing-- mentally and physically. Remember, Karl, self-denial is just another form of low-self esteem! Don’t worry about me, just come clean with yourself!

Moreover, the following are examples of things that you did or demonstrated that induced me to come to these conclusions about you:

1. The day, when you came by my house, after not having seen you for over eight months, I gave you some of my literature to read (only for your info—neither for your approval nor for your critique), you commented, “you’ve improved!” This didn’t hurt my feeling; but caught me off guard. I would’ve expected that in music, if I were playing the guitar—which is in the field of your expertise! Not in writing! Just how can you critique me, in writing, when you’re going around spelling rat -hole, “wrat- whole?” You get my drift? You stepped way out of bounds! You should be ashamed of yourself!

2. Of course, the day you erroneously, argued that Rev. White was President of the National NAACP organization, and not the local Atlanta Chapter NAACP branch; and when I presented the written proof to you, you took it and balled it up and threw it into the trash. What you didn’t realized was that you weren’t hurting my feeling but you were only convincing me of your utterly lack of confidence and an unenviable insecurity.

However, when we meet face-to face, please don't be giving me all that, “I disagree, that's your opinion,” stuff! What I’ve said, to you, is not my opinion but my conclusion. This would be an opportune time to explain to you the difference between the word, “opinion,” and the word, “conclusion.” One vents an opinion. He states what he thinks about the situation at hand, without any evidence being involved. Conversely, conclusions are formed, not stated! These conclusions are formed from evidence given by the person involved--in this case, you. You see, I formed my conclusions from the evidence, you, yourself, provided me in the above two incidents—so, let's just put a lid on all that, “That’s your opinion junk!”

Humbly, I suggest that you “run” with and stick with your greatest asset—music! I’m hoping that you strive to become the best you can be in the music professional arena! I wish you well!

You already know how kids hate to listen to what their parents have to say. My son was no exception! He always listened to everybody else except me! I was hoping that the following document I wrote him would help:

Nothing but the Truth

Instead of incorporating the true history of your family—your mother’s side and my side, the good and the bad-- into my multiple-subject, “Sir Leonard Speaks…,” soon- to- be- published book, I thought that I would just keep it on the down-low and address you in private. Its better this way; nobody gets embarrassed. The following is a documentary history of your family—my side and your mother’s side:
My Side of Your Family
Grand Father: —passed at age 67 years old, when I was 12 years old. He was a minister and peacefully died in his sleep. I am the baby child of my father’s second family. My father had to be empowered by and enclosed in the will of God to have endured and overcome the hurt and heartache life dealt him. Especially, the tragedy of his first family of 13 children; they all were spring-water poisoned by his evil, jealous enemies because of his many accomplishments through hard work. My faith could never be that strong! My father was illiterate, unlearned, uneducated and the alphabets were only a foreign language to him; but he was a shrewd, wise business person, a true leader.
Grand Mother: Fancy Lillian Pettway (Maiden name, Gayle)—passed in 1988 at the age of 101 years old. She truly was a pious and religious woman. I often recall when my mother would say to me, “Jim, I remember when the Holy Spirit (Holy Ghost) came upon me, hit me in the top of my head and knock me out and when I came to my senses I was a changed person and full of love.” In spite of my mother’s illiteracy and being unable to learn to read, the Holy Spirit became her daily guide and instructor throughout her life. She used to say to me, “Jim the Spirit tells me, it’s time to take your medicine.” She had so much love in her; she wanted to share it with the whole world, because she was always walking around saying, “I love everybody!” I obtained a marble stone on which to engrave her immortal statement, “I LOVE EVERYBODY!”
Your Mother’s Side of Your Family
Grand Father: Unknown.
Grand Mother: Mildred Williams (Maiden Name Davis).
My story about your grandmother, Mildred, began in 1978 when your mother introduced me to her. She struck me as being a very friendly, lovely lady. However, the next month, around Christmas, I found out that your mother’s mother was not as sweet as she had seemed to be. I hardly could believe it, when your mother told me that her mother hadn’t even given her a Christmas card, let alone Christmas presents for her and Cindy, her daughter! I was working at the Chevrolet Plant on Sawtell Rd at the time. A friend of mine informed me that there were a sale on suites, two for $99.00, and asked me come go with him so we could catch the sale. I told him that I was thinking about giving Josephine a $100.00 so she could buy her and her kid something for Christmas, since she had nothing. I had introduced Josephine to him earlier and had told him that I liked her very much. He told me to forget her and let her go and spend my money on myself. I told him that she needed help and I was going to help her and that he could go ahead on and I was going over to Josephine house and give her the money. I did. It was Christmas Eve. I went over there and gave her the money and took her and her daughter to Zyaires in the West End to shop. To my surprise, Josephine spent over half of those hundred dollars buying her mother presents, instead of herself and Cindy. Without any hesitation, I told her I gave her that money to spend on herself and her daughter. Little did I know that this was a preview of what was to come later on in our pursuing relationship—her mother not giving a damn about her and her kid while she did undeserving things for her.
Nevertheless, I loved your mamma very, very much as far as having fun, nothing serious. Two months later, Josephine dropped a bombshell on me by proposing that we get married. I stared at her and said, “You gotta be kidding!” Right after this, I dropped a jackhammer on my toe, crushing the bone, an injury that was to last the rest of year 1979.
Meanwhile, one year earlier, Pamela’s mother had illegally brought Pamela, four years old at that time, to Atlanta. You see Pamela had been made awards of the court in Los Angeles because her live-in boyfriend raped her 13 year old daughter and Pamela’s mother still stayed with him so the court removed Pamela from the home and temporally placed her in a foster home so Mary Ann, Pam’s mother, sneaked Pamela out of the home and brought her to Atlanta. I let Pamela stay with Steam because at that time I didn’t know that a man could be allowed to raise a female child. Had I known, this would’ve saved me much future heartache and pain. I started to receive mail from the Los Angeles court telling me that I had a minor child in my passion. I started a writing dialogue with them informing them of my intention of gaining custody of Pamela.
As time went on, I began seriously considering Josephine‘s marriage proposal. I thought, by marring Josephine, Pamela would have a needed mother and Cindy would have a needed father. This seemed to be an ideal arrangement for us both. She and I discussed it and decided to go for