My Startup - Selfie|Z

On Christmas day my startup company, Selfie|Z, will launch a Kickstarter crowd funding campaign. We've developed a mobile phone case and armband that takes the hassle out of managing your smartphone while working out. Anyone who works out is familiar with this struggle. Just take a look around...you'll see people doing things like running for miles with their phone in their hand like a baton. If you're a female at the gym your phone is probably stuffed in a sweaty sports bra or waistband. If you're a guy you have the "luxury" of having pockets, but this "luxury" comes at a cost because lying down on a bench or machine inevitably sends your phone hurdling to the gym floor. So the solution for all these problems is a bunch of cheaply made armbands which leave your phone stuck to your arm, completely immobile and in a position which is a headache to operate.

On Christmas Day we will unveil a true solution to the problem.

To stay updated please like us on  Facebook by visiting:

http://www.selfiez.me

And please share, share, share!

View our teaser trailer below:

Thanks For Your Support!

I'll keep this short, as I tend to be unnecessarily verbose at times (see previous post).

It has been two days and my essay is approaching 1 million reads. It has grown into something that is much bigger and much more important than me. My only intent  for sharing it was to let my limited number of followers and friends know how I was feeling. The unintended outcome was, for the most part, a major blessing. It got people talking and viewing things from multiple angles. I'm glad it gave people a platform to constructively debate. I pray that the outcome of this whole thing is something positive. I really do.

I unfortunately couldn't keep up with all the comments and the shares. I actually had to stop reading many of them after the first night because there were more than a few hateful things said and overall just too many responses posted. Like I said, it's bigger than me and I have no desire to be seen or popular, so this is the last blog post I'll make for a while...until I have something else important to say. So probably not for a long while :)

I did want to say thank you for every kind word and every person that jumped to my defense in many cases. For those of you that disagree with my stance, thank you as well. Freedom of speech and freedom of unadulterated opinion is what makes this nation so great.

I also received a lot of comments and messages (as well as super hateful comments) about my start-up company. Like I said, I didn't think a million people would read the thing. I'm pretty sure the average views of my day-to-day posts are about 20-30. I'm not going to try to sell you anything, but if you want to like our page to stay updated on our progress go to www.facebook.com/selfiez.me.

Thanks again for your support and encouragement. We are headed for much sunnier days. There are way too many super bright individuals out there to think otherwise.


Happy Thanksgiving!

A Letter to My Fellow Americans Regarding Ferguson

I am writing this essay and it will serve as the only effort I will ever put forth regarding this Ferguson, MO, cop-hate issue. I am way too busy being a PROUD African AMERICAN to waste time caring too much.

It's 11am and unfortunately only 27 degrees outside in Cleveland, OH. I just woke up and it is 72 degrees in my home. I slept uninterrupted and peacefully because hot air continuously pumps through the vents of my ADT-monitored, police-protected, gun-protected home. 

My beautiful Irish/Jewish wife is downstairs doing laundry and waiting for me to get up so we can go to the store.

Yes, I know 11am is late to be getting up, considering the "Early Bird" and all, but I was up all night 3D printing prototypes and editing a promotional video for my start-up company, which will launch a crowding-funding campaign next month. It's called Selfie|Z and I've been putting all my efforts into it since March. Unfortunately, I was laid off last year from my web programming job, so I decided it was a good time to take advantage of the robust free market economy we enjoy in this country.

So now I'm up. I step into the shower to wash my body. A refreshingly powerful stream of crystal clear, perfectly heated water runs over my body. I stay there for 8 minutes and in that time 8-10 gallons of clean, drinkable water flows from shower head, to body, to drain. 

I think nothing of it. 

Sometimes I do reflect on the reality of a person in a place such as third-world Africa and the fact that many of them die because they don't have access to the basic life-sustaining necessities I take for granted on a daily basis. I don't give it much thought though, I have too many first-world things to do today.

I go downstairs to eat breakfast. Thank God there is a huge temperature-controlled box keeping my food fresh. There are cupboards and a pantry full of food as well. 

Having the option to be fat is great! 

We're middle class, but all things considered, even the poor in our country have it pretty good here. We as a nation try our best to take care of everyone. I like that about America, it makes me proud. So I smile as I turn on CNN to burn a few minutes while I consume my Lucky Charms. 

To my utter dismay I see people of all races protesting and rioting because they say our country is corrupt. They say our country is becoming a bad place. They say our legal system and the police that took an oath to serve and protect us with their lives are now trying to KILL us. WTF!?

They are not smiling. They are angry. They are looting. They are rioting. 

Small business owners are stripped of their right to take part in our free market economy. Their businesses are burned. Their dreams are dashed and they did nothing wrong. 

They are the unlucky ones. 

The store owner that Michael Brown robbed before he was killed had his shop targeted. I guess getting robbed wasn't enough, now his business is temporarily and unnecessarily destroyed. What a bad year to be an honest minority businessman in America.

8/19/2014 - Getting Robbed

11/24/2014 - Post-Getting Looted

But no one seems to care. Al Sharpton is telling an audience of millions that white people hate black people.  White cops hate black people. They are murderers. They are killing our black children.

Well, not "our children" per se. I don't have any children. But if I did, they would have the utmost respect for the police. Even more so for them than for me. I love my family yet I can only claim to be willing to die for them. Those officers do it everyday and for not nearly enough money. They do so without complaint and with the very real possibly of never coming home to their own children and families ever again.

I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure those guys are not the bad guys. When I go to the bank at night and I see a cop, I am not fearful the officer will rob or murder me. 

Honestly, I'm looking out for people that look a lot like Michael Brown. Not black people, but people that are not doing what they are supposed to be doing. People that will rob me. People that may murder me. 

That's why, even though I live in the suburbs, I keep my concealed Sig-P226 in my shoulder harness while at the ATM. Not for the cops, but for the guy that just committed strong-armed robbery at a local convenient store and may now be looking for me. 

I'm looking out for people like the guys that robbed and shot local pub owner Jim Brennan in the head earlier this year. He was gunned down and murdered at his own business in this very same suburb. I watch enough Lockup on MSNBC to know they're out there. I'm also confident that the cops I see are looking for these types of individuals as well. 

Thank God.

After breakfast, I log on to Facebook and everyone seems to be equally as angry as the rioters. Angry at our police, angry at our courts, angry that justice was not served for a young black man. To all the outraged, uninformed commenters I have only this to say:

Do you really think police are the bad guys? Do you really think prisons are full of innocent people and that law-abiding citizens are joining the police force just to kill black men? Do you really think anyone that is NOT a sociopath really WANTS to KILL anyone? 

If I were to believe the rhetoric coming from social media I'd think the cops should be in prison, or dead, and the criminals should be walking and living freely. 

Imagine that. Imagine if there were no cops for even one night. Imagine the bedlam. Imagine the chaos...the horror. 

Unfortunately, you don't have to imagine. Just turn on your television and you can see it in real-time. 

I am a young black man. 

I am not afraid of the police. 

I am thankful for them. 

I am afraid of criminals. 

I am afraid of ignorance.

I am afraid of civil unrest. 

So I am off to the store with my wife. I will do so with the confidence that any would be criminal looking to do us harm will be deterred by those men and women in uniform that pass us by every few minutes. Those men and women that are risking their lives for me and my family every single day.

Soulmates?

Is there such a thing? Is there one perfect person out there, meant for each of us?  It's an age-old question that has probably been asked billions of times. If the answer is yes, how do they find one another in a sea of billions of people, bopping around on 92 million square miles of Earth? 

Unfortunately, I don't have the answer.  I can only speak from personal experience.

On the surface, a seemingly coincidental set of circumstances brought us together, but beneath, a complex series of events had to occur to make us a reality. Everything that happened, had to happen exactly the way it did, from the time each of us was born, to the time we met and beyond. 

The Story of Us and a Dash of Serendipity

Let's start at the very beginning. In 1982 I was born at Booth Memorial Hospital in Cleveland. Coincidentally, the next year, my future wife would be born at the very same hospital.
 
When I reached the sixth grade twelve years later, I transferred to a school called St. John's Lutheran  in South Euclid, OH. Before this, I had bounced around to a few different schools trying to find the right fit for my "personality." You see, teachers agitated me due to their unreasonable demands for my ever-wandering attention. Eight hours next to my very best friends and you don't want me to talk them?!?!? Get real, and add my name to the "No Recess" list for the fifth time this week. But I digress.

The morning I walked into the crowded gymnasium at St. John's (where all the students gathered before school began), things felt very different. I soon found that my teachers were different, the vibe of the school was different and these classmates would prove to be friends I'd have for the rest of my life. I could feel it, this was the place I was meant to be.

That very morning, after twelve years of seemingly coincidental and meaningless life events, I walked into a gymnasium, where sat the girl I would marry exactly twenty years later. A tall, skinny fourth grader, with bangs to her eyelids. My fourth elementary school in six years and the boy that couldn't stay in one place for too long decided that he had found his home.

But three years flew by and I hadn't noticed her. I mean, I knew who she was because her sister was in my class the entire time, but her existence was inconsequential to me, as was mine to her.  Now her sister was another matter altogether. I had prepubescent hots for her and somehow convinced her to date me when we graduated from the 8th grade. It was one of those "summer lovin, had me a blast" situations,  though we thankfully never even kissed (no offense Jess). I did have the fortuitous opportunity to meet her family and got to know them a bit. Her father even offered me a Job working for his company, Hodous Construction, making $10/hour. Jess and I broke-up before I ever got to see those riches and we all went our separate ways. I was no longer a part of their extended family and Jennifer wasn't even a thought in my mind.

Over the next few years I'd see them all a few times at a church youth group; really just as a passer-by though. 

Then we lost contact completely.

That is until I ran into her parents, Dave and Pat, at a Lidz in the Charlotte Douglas International Airport. Somehow, we were both on a layover to separate destinations. I really loved North Carolina Hats at the time, so I absolutely had to go in and buy one while I was there. I'm not sure why they were in the store, but they remembered me and we spoke briefly.

Then I was off to Atlanta, where I was moving, without much more than a momentary thought that it was weird to see them in a hat store, in a North Carolina Airport, on a layover. Same layover city, same hat store, same exact moment.

A weird coincidence I guess.

"Even God Himself finds it as difficult an undertaking as the dividing of the Red Sea. Forty days before a child is born its mate is determined upon."

- Genesis Rabba lxviii. 3-4

Lost and Found

I lived in Atlanta for the next three years and never thought of that chance meeting again. I was in school at the Art Institute, on the Dean's List and doing very well. There was no reason to go back home anytime soon. Then one day I got a call from my best friend, Bryan. Apparently one of our other really close friends had been messing around with his girlfriend of five years. So the next day I drove back to Cleveland, navigating twelve hours of road with bad intentions in mind. Luckily flared tempers subsided and the whole situation ended up working out for the best. We are all married and the very best of friends to this day. But after that, I decided to move back home for good. I missed Cleveland and my friends.
 

After a few years,  I eventually moved downtown and began spinning at club called Sinergy. 

That's where I met her...again.

She was a tall, pretty woman, with crazily dyed hair to her shoulders. She had been living in Chicago while I was in Atlanta, but decided to move back home around the same time I did.  We greeted one other, exchanged numbers and that was that. Just an old friend's phone number, set to collect dust in my phone. 

She was right there once again, twelve years later...but my sights were unfortunately focused elsewhere. Luckily, elsewhere would turn out to be a disaster so my focus was ultimately freed.

One day I caught the train home from work, by way of Tower City, and I just happened to walk by the MAC Store. There she was again, she lived at home on the east side, but worked downtown where I lived. I stopped in and spoke to her, told her we should hang out sometime and she agreed.

I eventually worked up the nerve to call her and the rest is history. 

Oh wait, not history. Near tragedy is what I meant to say.

The Big Break 

We began to date and after a few months I broke up with her. After 25 years of maneuvering through intricate mazes that led me directly to my soulmate, I let her go. 

I didn't get it. 

I didn't understand that she was the perfect person for me. The only girl that would ever exist that was custom-made to deal with me, my imperfections, my shortcomings, my life of hundreds of unrealized dreams and long list of failures. It takes a person especially made for you to pick you up when you are down and make you a better person everyday.  To see through the bad and love you no matter what. 

Luckily, she never did stop loving me. Even after I had broken her heart.

In the romantic comedy that is my life, the formula held true to form: "Boy gets girl. Boy loses girl. Boy wins girl back."

So, exactly twenty years after I walked into that gymnasium and was graced by the presence of Ms. Jennifer Hodous, I was "lucky" enough to make it back to her and make her Mrs. Jennifer Ford.

Needless to say, I will never be without my soulmate again.