Invisible Mann

Hotep,

The freedom. 

The anonymity. 

The power.

At one time, this was my perception of invisibility, endless days and nights of being wherever I wanted to be, whenever I wanted to be there.  Eagles’ games, Sixers’ game, any hip-hop gathering that ever ventured through my city...that's Philly if you didn't know.

Invisibility would give me the jump on crowd control, ridiculous traffic and long lines at the concession stands.  I wouldn’t have to deal with false accusations or mistaken identities.  My light-skinned, 5’8” medium frame would no longer be a commonality.  It would be my business and my business only.  Na mean?

All of this talk about being invisible is a mere fantasy, maybe even childish, right?  But, the truth of the matter is that my existence in North Carolina’s basement (Death Row) for the past 14 years, qualifies me as being invisible to society.  Oh sure, society is aware of a death row prisoner costing the state millions in tax dollars, but to not know me as an individual makes me invisible to a society that sees me as less than human.  Feel me?

Well, on March 13, 2010 I stopped being invisible to society.  Not only can society now see me as an individual, but they can also hear the voice of a Mann that yearns for the justice of freedom. 

The words of truth coming from this Mann, debunks media satire or the furor of detractors hiding behind the guise of anonymity.  Power belies invisibility.  Word is bond! 

The fact that I’ve been reaching the eyes and ears of the world for the last 19 months has convinced me that being invisible is not for a Mann or anyone who has something good to share with the world.  Ya heard?

Deuces,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

The Embrace of Novocain

“I still get misty-eyed when I see you on television, whether you’re putting your arm around the Queen of England so endearing or tenderly holding hands with a wounded soldier or sick child.”
-          Sophia A. Nelson



Friends for Life

Hotep,

The above quote has been etched in my mind ever since I turned the pages of “Black Woman Redefined,” a literary window to the core of the professional black woman in America. 

This particular quote was taken from a scribe written by the author – Ms Sophia A. Nelson – to the 1^st Lady Mrs. Michelle Obama.

I think very high of our 1^st Lady.  I honestly believe that her personality is the Novocain to our country’s pain.  Her mere presence alleviates the stress of childhood obesity.  And she empathizes with any socio-economically challenged community, because unlike most 1^st Ladies before her, poverty was not just a topic of discussion.  Feel me?

But, that’s not the reason this quote has left a stain on my mental.  Allow me to exhale:  This blog is my voice.  To know the Mannofstat, you have to understand my homegirl, Rochelle.  She’s the prime example of the good that exudes from a union between an enigma and someone who isn’t afraid to reach out and understand what society may have written off as unredeemable.

Throughout my years in this box, I’ve been cautiously selective about who I communicate with, outside of my family circle.  Having a pen pal is a predominant option for a death row prisoner.  If a prisoner is unconcerned that the initial bond to a complete stranger, is predicated on him/her being a condemned killer, then it can definitely workout for the best.  But see, that’s hard for me to accept, because I’m nobody’s killer and I don’t care to exchange pleasantries with someone who believes that I am.  Feel me?

Rochelle has been a Godsend. Long before I came to prison, long before she left her stamp on Corporate America, we shared a platonic relationship that has the makings of a best-selling novel, but knowing Rochelle, she’s much too modest to admit that, but I’m not.  LOL.

Throughout the last 20 months, Rochelle has introduced me to the world via the blogosphere.  She has educated me on the ups and downs of being a corporate executive and she’s helped me to understand the definition of being “career driven.” Her professionalism is inspiring.  No doubt.

It’s been a privilege to see her life, through her eyes. In April of 2010, Rochelle took me on a helicopter ride to the Grand Canyon and treated me to a champagne brunch on the floor of the Canyon.  She’s taken me to board meetings, NAACP galas and a walk-a0thon to cure breast cancer.  Her recent departure to the grand country of Kenya has given me the opportunity to see the beauty of “The fourteen falls,” near Thika, a creation that I had no idea existed.  Na mean?

The pain of being inside this box is indescribable.  How is it possible for me to believe that I can make a positive difference in today’s society?  Well, the only answer I have is the blessing of a life-long friendship that has embraced me with the warmth of a Kenyan sunrise and the diligence of a North Philly go-getter.  My Novocain.  Ya heard?

So, here I am, bringing my intent to fruition.   Chelle has assisted my career as a writer and helped me to understand my purpose.  It’s no secret that the 1^st Lady has done the same for the 44^th president and look how that turned out.  Feel me?

Thank you for believing in me Rochelle.  I’ll appreciate you for today, yesterday and the many more years to come.  Happy Birthday Ma!!

“Being strong can also be feminine. I don’t think feminine equals week. Being strong is very sexy.”  

- Actress Sanaa Lathan

One Love,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Hot Chocolate Takes Me Away

Hotep, 

Albert Einstien once theorized that time is an illusion.  He believed that anything we’ve ever wanted in this existence, we’ve already attained in a parallel universe.  Personally, I’d hate to think that there is another me somewhere enjoying my freedom, while I dream of freedom from a death row cell.  Feel me?  But, I would be open to the possibilities of time travel.  Wouldn’t you?

I mean, who doesn’t wonder what life would have to offer if we could physically travel through time?  Now, I’ve voyaged memory lane quite regularly.  This blog is overwhelming evidence of that, but to actually relive the past after living the future would be an opportunity your Mannofstat couldn’t pass up.  Na mean?

I’ve always enjoyed the sweetness and warmth that Hot Chocolate brings, so that would be my means of travel.  A couple of sips and I’d be in the kitchen of Madame C.J. Walker, witnessing the first time she used a straightening comb.  Holla if ya hear me Sistas!

I wouldn’t want to, but I’d have to experience the assassinations of some of this country’s greatest leaders.  I would be compelled to feel the full effect of the Civil Rights Movement and the ugliness of racism.  And you know I’d definitely have to stop by that hospital in Hawaii to see the newborn that would eventually become our 44^th president.  That’s right, I said Hawaii Mr. Trump.  SMH

Watching my life from a distance, I would relive my reaction to the death of my biological father.  I’d then take a deep swallow of Hot Chocolate to move onto happier times.  It’s 1973 and I’m posted up on the corner of Marshall and Girard.  I smile as I watch the man that raised me, “Pops,” flick it up with a 5 year old Mannofstat on Easter Sunday.  Afros, butterfly collars and big belts.  Nothing about this visual says: “ Step-parent or Stepchild.” Ya heard?  Love you Pops.

Another sip of Hot Chocolate and I’m in upstate Pennsylvania visiting my brother “D” at his college campus.  Walking those college dorms after homecoming football game was a favorable experience for a 10 year old Mannofstat.  It’s hard to leave this phase of my journey.  Word is bond!  Holla if ya hear me D.  Love you Bro.

Before I take my last sip of Hot Chocolate, I’d have to stop by my grade school, St. Peter’s, that fateful day in 1979.  The day an 11 year old Mannofstat stepped to the girl he believed he’d be with forever.  She eventually became his wife, co-defendant and the reason your MannofStat is currently fighting for his life.  Feel me?

Today, I realize I dedicated my love to the wrong woman.  Real talk.  The law of attraction teaches: “Your life is in your hands.  No matter where you are now, no matter what has happened in your life, you can begin to consciously choose your thoughts and you can change your life.  There is no such thing as a hopeless situation.  Every single circumstance of your life can change!”

I can’t change my past, but I love me some Hot Chocolate.  Here and now, I’m willing to let my Hot Chocolate take me into the future.  That’s what’s up!

One Love,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

The Judicial Toothache that is Death Row

Hotep,

A toothache can be a crippling experience for the mightiest of men.  The uncertainty of its origin combined with the continuous pounding of an excruciating headache that has the effect of an ongoing brain freeze that would make an orthodontist beg for an extraction.  Believe me, I speak from personal experience.  Real talk.

I was politickin with my youngsta Frost, today (9/12).  We spoke on everything from Hurricane Irene, to the message behind the acronym, “KRS-ONE.” That’s Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everyone for those of you who aren’t familiar with the greatest MC ever to bless the microphone.  Word is bond!

My man Frost is a likable cat who speaks well beyond his 23 years.  I feel it’s only right that I’m able to relate to this youngsta.  Considering the fact that he’s the same age as my own son, I feel the need to share my wisdom and life experience with someone his age.  Not only because I can hear my son’s life perspective in his words, but mainly because it has become my mission to reach out to anyone enduring this judicial toothache, better known as Death Row.  Feel me?

Death row can drain an individual of all self-worth.  Leaving them vulnerable to pessimism, this in turn induces their evolvement of becoming a product of this environment.  Daily debates about the television, personally assigned seating arrangements in the dayrooms, the weak preying on the weaker…  a formula that produces emotional anguish beyond the understanding of the average individual living on the other side of this wall.  Na mean?

This toothache decimated my personal ambitions and put me in a circumstance that has proven to be a gift, wrapped within a curse.  Overwhelmed by being reduced to a mere number, no longer able to be in the ongoing company of loved ones and remission of choice, to come and go as I please and wear the clothes of my liking.  Sixteen years of peeling through these pessimistic layers has allowed me to solemnly serve my purpose.  Rather than seething about my present circumstance, I’m helping youngstas like Frost to understand that pessimism is an emotion not a philosophy.  My method for the extraction of pain.  Ya heard?

Keep it 100

MannofStat

Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Me and My Boot

Hotep,

As you should already know, I strained my left Achilles tendon back in July (Old Mann, http://word2themasses.blogspot.com/2011/08/old-mann-real-reality.html).  It’s been a frustrating process, but educational as well.  Educational in the sense of, I’m learning more about my body as I continue to age gracefully.  LOL. And, it’s frustrating because this particular injury puts my Kunta Kinte thing on ice, indefinitely.  Na mean?

Philly

For the past week, I’ve been concerned about going under the knife again, but the doctor feels that my injury will heal with time and proper care.  So, rather than face another surgery on the same leg, I was sentenced to wear a walking boot for the next two months. 

This walking boot is hideous.  It’s equipped with an ankle splint, 5 Velcro straps and an exterior that resembles the latest Frankenstein footwear.  It covers my leg from toes to knee and it weighs at least 3lbs.  When I’m walking throughout the unit everyone knows I’m coming.  I feel like I have an RV strapped to my leg.  SMH.

This boot has been a constant reminder of how I tend to get swallowed up by my undying love for the game of basketball.  This injury isn’t as bad as it could’ve been, but it was severe enough to make a brother reinvent a negative circumstance, to bring forth positive results.  Feel me?

I figure, since I’ll be lugging this 3lb apparatus around for the next couple of months, I may as well embrace the company and give it an identity, an identity that would aspire rather than frustrate me.   Let’s see: The Mike Vick story is inspiring, without question.  I can see a Super Bowl in our very near future.  The saga of “Rocky” inspired an entire generation. 

Teaching us that those who fight for what they want will experience a flavor the sheltered will never know.  And my man Will Smith created an inspirational summer time anthem over 20 years ago, that still makes me reminisce about my days in front of the water plug or behind the wheel as I cruised the plateau.  Yeah.  Now that’s inspiring.  Ya heard?

The verdict is in people.  My city is the common denominator of all three of these inspirational examples.  Allow me to make a proper introduction: Blogosphere, meet “Philly.”  The much needed inspirational jolt, that will get me back into Kunta Kinte mode and the definitive symbol of why I need to stay off the court.  But, for the record my jump shot is still water.  Word is bond!

Stay tuned,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann