my parents (part one)

The parental units....ahhhhh, where to begin? I have two sets of parents. The ones that made me and the ones that raised me. We will start with the ones that made me because that is the most confusing set.

Mama Fox
Well, let's see, Mama Fox was a young 22 when she gave birth to me. She was living at home with her parents (my second set of parents). She had decided that she would join the army when she went in for her physical and discovered she was knocked up. Her recruiter told her that he could delay her enlistment until after she gave birth.

Somewhere along the way she had decided that she didn't want the Baby Fox. She had concluded that she would give the baby away to a nice couple that she knew. Grandma Fox wasn't having it and said she would raise the baby before she would let it be shipped off to God knows where. Mama Fox said fine and that's exactly what happened with that.

Mama Fox has always resented the fact that Grandma Fox kept the baby. She took her anger and frustration out on the kid. Mama Fox blamed everything that was wrong with her life on me. I messed up her plans and kept her from her goals. The better I did in school/life/whatever the harder she came down on me.

Father Fox #1
This dude was a hustler. You name it he did it. Pimp. Drug dealer. Stole then sold stuff. Bootlegger. He did whatever he had to do to keep from getting a real job. The funny thing is I am the most like him, personality wise. My mouth can be slick. I can just about talk my way out of (or into) any situation. Like him, I was a Political Science and Religion major.

My religion is Christianity. His is Islam. He is an imam. I am a minister. We have similar diets. We both read like we think the world is coming to an end. His sister is gay, as am I. When I see pictures of him, granted they are 20+ years old, I see myself. When I'm out in the streets back home, people ask my mom if Father Fox #1 is my dad. I met him twice. I was 21 the first time.

He knew me. He had followed my accomplishments throughout the years. He told me the best thing he could do for me was not be around. He said of the children he helped raise, all were fucked up in some fashion (either locked up or dead). He keeps up with me via the streets (i.e. my nosy ass blabber mouth cousins, lol).

OMG! I just remembered that when he is not calling me by my middle name (he is the only person in the world who calls me that and the only one who can get away with it), he calls me Jazz. He says I have a jazzy mouth (i.e. a smart mouth) so he calls me Jazz. So....yea...

Father Fox #2
Ummm, don't know much about this dude. He is the one Mama Fox says is my father. That's her story and she's sticking to it. He and I have nothing in common. His brother lived one house over from me and he drove past my house every damn day. I was 20 years old before we ever had a conversation.

As far as I know, he never went to college. He has a bunch of kids running around, most are older than I. Of all his kids, he only has two girls. Myself and my little sister, who is 7 or 8. He has never shown much interest in knowing me. When his older brother died a couple years ago, I was the hottest thing on the block, but that wore off quick.

Anywho, those are my parental units. Geez, maybe this is why the kid

Makes. No. Sense.