The following conversation may or may not have occurred.

The following conversation may or may not have occurred. Names have been changed to protect the insane.

From the Diary of Roscoe Cleophus Twilliger, Esq. Side man to the legendary Fuzzhead Jenkins, Bluesman, Writer, and Daddy. Arch Enemy of Flatbush Jones, Yarn Cat Mass Producer.

Things are moving right along. What a weird day.

So I'm in my car this morning and my telephone rings at about 830. I instantly think it's a daddy thing. Lil Zeke won't roll out of bed or something. I am a firm believer: if a kid won’t get outta bed to take a shower, leave him there. Bring the shower to him. Usually you only have to soak one mattress before they get the idea.

“Hey... I heard this song and I was thinking of you...I miss that twang in your voice…" Uh oh.

Ascertaining my kid is OK, I get her off the line with the old bulletproof excuse. “I got the city on the other line. Fighting parking tickets. I’ll call you back.”

Note: This line works like a Jedi mind trick, only on the weak minded. Any fool knows the City of Chicago does not argue parking tickets; they merely give you a choice in method of payment. They will kidnap your car if you argue too long.

I head over to the studio, where Fuzzhead and I put the finishing touched to our tune, “My Baby Done Left Me, but Her Sister’s Twice as Fine”, backed with "White People Make Damn Good Fried Chicken". I get another call.

"Let me ask you something...how is your personal life?"

Now, I was just telling someone the other day that it seems this guy she is with is good for her. A better fit, personality wise and all, and how I am man enough to just be cool with her being happy. I mean, hell, I'm the one that filed for divorce. Life goes on. It’s kinda like getting rid of a used car. You’re mad you’re without transportation, but you know it’s gonna break down on the next guy. You tired of puttin’ more into it than it’s worth. Sometime you better off on the bus.

But several times a year, I get these phone calls. Like on our anniversary. Heck. I can dig it. We been divorced for years now. Takes some women millennia to forget they supposed to hate you for leaving them cuz they left you first. Or at other times of the year, she call with all types of crazy suggestions. I have learned to keep an even tone and just be easy. Tellin’ somebody a state sanctioned divorce means, yeah, you don’t have to talk to them, may cost you a kid and some peace of mind. Sos I just humor her a little. Heck, she used to call the guy she’s with now like this when she was married to me. Payback is a…you know.

"Do you think it would be inappropriate if we went out?"

Can’t resist a dig here. "Hmmm...Pandora, aren't you in a productive relationship? Dude is footing your bills and all. Do you think it's fair to him that you keep coming after your ex husband like this? Aren't you, he and the kids supposed to be moving in together in a few months? This isn't the way to start a happy home. My feelings would be hurt if my woman took my money but was chasing someone else...Dunno. It’d be like, you know, she didn’t get ‘right’ from ‘wrong’."

"I guess...I don't see what me being involved has to do with us going out? If I want to take my ex husband to dinner and have a good time afterward, that’s my business. He has nothing to do with you..."

"Hmmmm…I can see where you’re coming from. If more people thought like that, I guess we’d have more happy marriages. It's a principle thing, I guess. No, we do well keeping it business. Keep it about Lil Zeke, and we don't need any social interaction for that..."

"Can I ask you something personal? Are you committed? Are you looking at making some permanent step with that girl in Mississippi? The one who claim she from Egypt?"

"I'm not comfortable discussing my personal life, but yeah, I love me some Aboubaka. And she proved it: her daddy face IS on the side of a pyramid. And you know how I am about monogamy. I mean, you were married to me. I never had a problem keeping me to just you, although, if I’da known what you were up to, lemme tell ya: your sister woulda been fair game. I don't have any freewheeling rules about fidelity. I’m either with you, or not with you. I like simple. Like a harmonica. You like a oboe or something."

"I just think it'd...fine. You think it's inappropriate. I just thought it'd it'd be good if Zeke saw us interact."

"Now, is this about interaction? I thought it was supposed to be social.”

“It was. But I’m on something different now.”

“We do interact. But I'm trying to model something for my boy. A man has to have principles and set boundaries. Women will flock to whomever pays them attention. How far that goes is on the man who makes it clear what's what. What does it look like, he knows Aboubaka is my lady, but I'm laughing and joking with his mama and taking her out on dates and whatnot? That's not right, and it puts false understandings in his head. We talk all the time: your woman is your woman. That relationship is different than your female friends."

“Well, I choose not to live that way.”

“I’m not judging you. My model is my model, though. I can’t give the boy much. I can teach him how to play the harp. I can keep him from drinking beer with a straw. I can teach him not to wear gray pants with ugly brown shoes. And I can teach him about women. Situations only go as far as a man lets them. Nobody blames a woman who gives in to emotion. But everybody blames a man who ain’t right.”

"He told me the other day, 'Daddy doesn't laugh with you like he does with me. He just talks about school and doctor's appointments."

"That's the way it should be. You got a man you're going to live with. He knows I'm with Aboubaka. You can't be married, or involved with someone, and have the same relationship with someone else. If he chooses to live that way later, he can't say it's because he wasn’t shown anything else. "

"So you won't go on a date with me?"

"Goodbye Pan. Have a great day."

“Wait!”

“Whassup?”

“Can we all get together then? You, me, PigBoy?”

“Your man? Naw, Luv. I don’t do that freaky stuff…”

“Just for dinner?”

“I ain’t mad at PigBoy. I do think he’s better for you than I was. I got no respect for him though. He knew you were married, and he pursued you on a level that was wholly wrong. Especially since he was married, too. I mean, dag, I ain’t want you, but since I don’t cheat, I let plenty of women pass me buy cuz I was married, thinking you do that to respect your situation. Do you know how many years and fine women that was? That I’ll never get back? They either married, or mean, or got too many damn cats now, so they ineligible? Just cause ya’ll families subscribe to Broken Marriages as a philosophy, that don’t mean it’s right. There’s rules to being a man. Again, you set the tone for where you want things to go. I played by them He didn’t. I don’t sit across the table with people who got no rules.”

“So, you wouldn’t even be in a room, with him?”

“Sure. That baby we got gonna graduate. He gonna go on prom. He gonna have ballgames. I don’t miss those, and you may show up, PigBoy in tow. I’ll deal with it. The last thing I asked PigBoy was if he was doing my wife. He denied even knowing you. So, honestly, that’s the kind of man he is. As I get older, one of life’s true treats is to not spend a minute more than necessary with people that I don’t like. I don’t like his type of guy. I won’t hang with him, but if he is at my kids’ functions…well, anything that involves my baby is enough for me to let him have his day.”

“But just being friendly, to break bread?”

“Naw Baby. I don’t eat with whoremongers. I gotta go tune up my banjo, Pandora. ‘tis nice talkin’ to ya. Kiss Lil Zeke for me. Send ya'll some fried chicken from the road.”

At that moment, Fuzz walked in. He’s been moonlighting as some rapper named “D.Addy”. Always knew that boy was a nerd.