Prodigal Penis

Chitown showed me no love this weekend. None at all, at all, Joe.

Not the weather.

Not the testosterone.

Not even the retail.

I love visiting Chicago, but this time the city seemed to be on a sabbatical. Not even the hood showed me love. (ok granted I was mostly in the 'burbs. )

Love was actually the reason for my extended jaunt to ChiGritty.

My Uncle Judd, one of my mom's 4 lil bruhs (8 a dem in all), got hitched. He's one of my fav uncles... the cool azz rasta who rocks Dickies shorts, a crispy white tee and matching immaculate white Ups with a swagger meaner than any young knucklehead.

He lives outside Philly, and I don't see that jawn very often at all. Matter of fact, he was at my sister's wedding two years ago, and before that I don't think I had seen him since I was a kid visiting Spanish Town in Jamaica.

So it came as a bit of a shock when a couple months back my cousin called and asked if I would be a bridesmaid in the wedding.

Uh, yeah, sure. Take one for the fam, right?

Lawd Gawd.

Things you will hear at a Jamaican wedding...

..."...take you to be my awfully weddin 'usban."

..."Cohn-Gradu-LA-Shan!"

..."Jessas Chrys, mi cyan find di dyam ring dem!"

..."Is wha time church a keep?"

..."Yuh auntie mek some manish watah. Gwan oatside an get a cup bring fi mi and di baby."

..."Ah op'n, di bar op'n?"

..."No woman no cry!"

...Ladies and genkleman...Daddy him woulda so proud fi see all him pick'ni dem gather togeddah here..."

I was born here, and frankly lots of their back home inside jokes are always way over my head. But you don't need to be fluent in Jamaican patois to translate the love that permeated the weekend.

My Uncle and his wife had their first baby 28 years ago. My Uncle has a couple of other kids from another relationship, the youngest of which is 5 years old.

So basically there was a lot of on again, off again going down in their relationship. 30 years worth, to be exact.

One thing I kept hearing over and over was a saying from back home, "Nobody cyan tek what ah already yours."

While I can't say that I totally co-sign that one, because I think the underlying implication is that women should shut the fcuk up and twiddle their thumbs while their men go out, do their dirt, then grow the hell up...I am definitely feeling the boomerang theme...

"They say if you love something, you've got to let it go.
And if it comes back, then it means so much more.
But if it never does, at least you will know,
That it was something you had to go through to grow."
~"In My Mind" (aka the Millenium Stalker Anthem) by Heather Headley

I'm of the belief that there is always one that got away...could be bad timing, youth, a stupid indiscretion, pure immaturity or just denial that keeps you away from one another. But as they say, if it's meant to be it will be...even if it's 30 years later.

Not exactly encouraging words for me, as I approach 30 years old. I'm impatient, and curious...with a very healthy dose of obsession with marriage. I'm fascinated by people who are divorced and under 40. I got some stories to tell. Got some folks who I wanna have tell their own stories.

What I hear a lot from married folk is that love is only a small part of the equation.

But after being in coldhearted Chitown, warmed by intense family love all weekend, I wonder if love shouldn't count for so much more.

PS...I'm still feeling nostalgic and idealistic after the wedding...It will soon wear off and your regularly scheduled reality-based, cynical/sarcasm-laden programming will return by week's end. I promise.