tag:kahnd.com,2005:/blogs/loving-life-daily?p=3Loving Life Daily2018-06-02T08:39:01-04:00Kahn Santori Davison falsetag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/52527822018-05-23T12:23:37-04:002022-05-10T03:19:08-04:00From Gordon Parks to Donald Glover: The New Appreciation of the Renaissance Man<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/ad480f7558ddf6ace373abb8829be50a99b69ad1/original/parks-glover.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_left border_" /></p>
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<p><span class="font_large"> I know this sounds corny, but the first time I heard the name Gordon Parks was when Larenz Tate uttered it in Love Jones (1997). I was immediately drawn to the name. Maybe it was the slick coolness in which Darius Lovehall name dropped him to impress Nina Mosley or maybe his name was just that powerful to make me want to learn more. Either way; he was officially on my radar. That fall, his book “Half Past Autumn: A Retrospective” came out and it was the first photography book I’d ever purchased. I flipped through the book in awe and interest but ultimately put in my bookshelf and only pulled it out to impress girls (it worked for Darius right? Lol) </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> But you have to understand that this was 1997; I was a 20 year-old college student still trying figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. I had changed majors 7 times. I had never touched a camera but I knew I liked photography. I loved art but I couldn’t draw and all my poems were kept nicely hidden in the closet. I wasn’t a “writer” back then but more of a kid who “did some writing.” By 1999 things started to come into focus (pun intended). I had found my first photography mentor, I had started writing for the Michigan Citizen and I began writing short stories and competing in poetry slams. I also took another look at Mr. Parks except this time I decided to read his books “The Learning Tree,” and “Choice of Weapons”, I re-watched Shaft, and just started to appreciate his entire body of his work. I loved that critics and journalists referred to him as a “Renaissance Man” and as my efforts in my preferred mediums started to grow; I too wanted to be thought of as a “Renaissance Man.” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> But I’m not making this about me (well not all the way about me lol); I just wanted to include some bits and pieces of my story to show how Gordon Parkes inspired me. It’s not that I wanted to be a photographer like Gordon Parks; I wanted to contribute to the world in lots of different ways just like Gordon Parks. Now let’s fast track to Donald Glover (aka Childish Gambino). My son introduced me to him 4 years by saying, “Dad, check out this dude. He reminds me of you and your poetry friends.”( Lol) I started with “Because of the Internet” and worked my way backwards and listened to every single album and mixtape. I watched his stand-up and several of his interviews and said to myself; “This dude is putting together a helluva body of work!” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> Now I understand Glover is not the first cat to have a resume full of ingenuity. Tupac, Queen Latifa, Kayne, Will Smith, LL Cool J, and The Rza have resumes that bustle of creativity and substance. But Glover is a millennial; part of the generation we criticize for wearing their pants to tight, calling too many fouls during basketball games, popping pills, and crying over everything. They film themselves doing absolutely nothing and can’t stay off of social media. And “Yes” I’ve heard and read all these things about millennials and I feel we don’t give them enough props. Have you checked out Tyler the Creator’s list of accomplishments? Young emcees and producers have talked to me as to why they don’t want to be “just rappers” and they tell me about their love of writing poetry or the script they’ve written, and other creative ideas they’re trying to push. They don’t want to be categorized nor be in a box; they all want their bodies of work to flourish and to be taken seriously. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> Now back to Glover; who has taken the road less traveled to create critically acclaimed and authentic content that can be digested by his generation and the ones before it. He’s become known as a creative induvial to all things rather than just a dude that does one thing really well. He’s evolving to be just as much of a Renaissance Man as Gordon Parks and he’s being appreciated for it; ALL IF IT. That’s what’s so beautiful about his presence in black and pop culture. We tune in to watch Atlanta; we stream his music, and can’t wait to see what he’s going to do next. I can’t help but wonder what teenagers are tuned in? What 20 year-old college student is using Glover’s accomplishments to motivate himself? This generation; that is set on defying “labeling,” is forcing us to accept all their talents. Glover's presence and artistic catalog is needed just like I needed Gordon Parks. </span></p>
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<p><span class="font_large">It’s all inspiration. </span></p>
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<p> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/47975912017-07-31T12:26:41-04:002022-03-16T14:50:26-04:00Gonorrhea, Pretty Nurses, and Embarrassing Moments<p><span class="font_large"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/2cee6969daf86e8f3af1e9e5d55abd9f06b92336/original/std.jpg?1501518262" class="size_l justify_left border_" /></span></p>
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<p><span class="font_xl"> </span><span class="font_large">At 18 she told me over the phone what no 18 year-old boy wants to hear; “Kahn, I have gonorrhea and you should go get checked out.” Now you have to understand where I was at 18; I mean I wasn’t a very experienced or even knowledgeable about sex or STDs. I was really just starting to have experiences and figuring things out. Most of my early sex education came from The 2 Live Crew and my grandfather’s “safe sex” lectures that dealt more with his fear of me getting a girl prego rather than me getting “burned.” In fact, “lectures” is an overstatement; they were mostly elementary scare tactics. It usually went, “If you get a girl pregnant, she’s going to take all your money, then she’s going to go be with someone else, and you’re going to get depressed and kill yourself.” My grandfather didn’t want to sugar coat it so he made it as blunt and digestible as possible. His other favorite quote was, “If some pretty young girl’s father comes here with a shotgun; I’m sent him to your room and stay out of it.” As prehistoric as this sounds; he figured it was only logic I would listen to. <br><br> But back to that summer morning phone call - I was so perplexed but her statement ya’ know? There were the obvious questions I asked like, “Who else were you sleeping with?” “How do you know you have gonorrhea?” And “How long have you had it?” She said she slept with some older cat that drove a caddy and she was having weird discharges when she went to the bathroom. I went into extreme panic mode. I had heard horror stories about men breaking down into tears after going into Herman Kiefer hospital and getting a metal rod the size of a telephone poll shoved down their penis. I heard some doctors would inject your penis with a 23 gauge needle full of Penicillin. But most importantly of all; Ice Cube told me in his song, “Look Who’s Burnin’” that I was supposed to be in immense pain when I use the bathroom. So I Immediately cut off all of liquids until I figured something out. <br>I was too embarrassed to tell my grandfather. I needed his help but that help would have been accompanied by his judgement, and more harsh words about safe sex. “Fuck that,” I thought. This is one of the first matters I decided to figure out by myself. I knew there was a medical clinic near my favorite record store Buy-Rite on West 7-Mile; it was called Sherwood Medical Clinic. I went up there, asked did they take walk-ins, and signed my name on the clipboard. Within 30 minutes a very attractive nurse (about 23 or 25 with the Halle Berry cut) gave me paperwork to fill out and pointed me to an exam room. She asked the cliché question, “What brings you in today?” And I was forced to tell her that I may have possibly contracted an STD. Although this was embarrassing; it was nothing compared to what followed. She took some notes, my blood pressure, and said the doctor would be in shortly. I remember just sitting there and praying to God they didn't amputate my penis. </span></p>
<p><br><span class="font_large"> Within 20 minutes the nurse and Dr. Marsha Beal come into the room and this is when things got REAL. Dr. Beal was brown skin, in her 40s maybe, and had the vibe of an assistant high-school principal. She tells me there is a good chance that I don’t have gonorrhea (because I didn’t have any pain or discharges) but there was only one way to make sure. She has me pull down my oversize Guess jeans/underwear and lay on the exam table as she put on rubber gloves. She pulls out a skin shiny metal Q-tip instrument and my heart started beating 900 beats a second. She grabbed my penis, and I immediately asked, “What are you about to do?” She told me she was going to stick that in to get a semen sample so she could test for gonorrhea. I couldn’t handle that so we started playing tennis. </span></p>
<p><br><span class="font_large">Me: “You’re not putting that in my dick.” <br>Dr. Beal: “Yes I am.” <br>Me: “No you’re not.” <br>Dr. Beal: “I have too.” <br>Me: “No you don’t, I won’t let you.” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> Now mind you, the cute nurse is still in the room and doing her best to hold in her laughter as Dr. Beal had her fingers wrapped around my penis like a broke eggplant. Eventually Dr. Beal got tired of the back-and-forth and plunged the instrument into my penis and pulled it right out. By the time I let out a strange, “Arhhhh!” it was over. It honestly felt no worse than a bee sting. </span></p>
<p><br><span class="font_large"> The results were negative but and after the trauma of the encounter faded; I couldn’t help but laugh about it. But as time as gone by; I’m pretty lucky things weren’t much worse. I could have contracted herpes or HIV, or God forbid ………gotten the girl pregnant!</span></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/47861112017-07-20T11:58:29-04:002022-03-19T23:40:57-04:00Emotional Crutches, Security Blankets, and Why I’ve Only had 2 Addresses<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/19408a3bcf99eed6fd0a5b944abc02d2ce914690/original/pinehurst.jpg?1500566218" class="size_l justify_left border_" /></p>
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<p><span class="font_large"> I’ve always been enamored with individuals who’ve moved regularly throughout their entire lives. There are those that grew up in households where a parent was in the military, those who grew up in families where quick shifts in income meant multiple moves and others who just don’t like being stationary in one spot for too long. For years when clients and friends have confided in me about their lack of family pictures, it’s followed by, “We‘ve moved to many times and it’s hard to keep up with stuff like that.” I can’t help but admire that willingness to part ways with no-so-old material things and how people can so easily discard the emotional and material baggage that everyone accumulates in their residence. </span></p>
<p><br><span class="font_large"> I’ve only had 2 addresses in my entire life (unless you count the 18 months I stayed with my parents). I resided in the house I grew up in on Detroit’s west-side (Pinehurst) until I was 32 years-old. It was the home my grandparents bought in 1964, the home my mother was raised in, the home I got spankings in, the home I lost my virginity in, the home I started my business in, and the home I started my family in. Those walls housed 44 years of family stories, emotional moments, and good ole fashion love. ‘Cause see I’m a clinger; I cling to people, memories, and things. I still have many of my grandparent’s tools, trinkets, diaries, jewelry, cards, and letters. As much as I hated piano lessons; I love rubbing my finger-tips across my mother’s burgundy piano (that I still own). I remember playing “Amazing Grace” for my grandmother till she would subtly hum herself into a nap. Anytime the house is in-between renters; I go in and just remember whatever comes to mind; like my grand ma lying in a hospice hospital bed in the living room. I remember my grandfather sitting with her for hours and doing everything he could to extend her life. The pain of the memory can still trigger tears but the compassion of my grandfather was so beautiful and inspiring that I can’t let that go. </span></p>
<p><br><span class="font_large"> I was 22 when my grandfather passed away and moving out that home was not even something I was thinking about. It was very contrasting to some of my peers because they were just getting out of college, getting apartments, relocating, shacking up, or acquiring roommates. I was the opposite. There wasn’t a desire for the preverbal “fresh start,” there wasn’t a need to get away from anything (or anyone) and I embraced the poignant energy (uplifting and depressing) that came with staying there. I donated stuff that didn’t have sentimental value and decorated the house to fit more of what you would expect from a young 22 year-old bachelor. But while others were trying to get away from their parents; I was content in my 2 story security blanket. While folks were opting to move to New York and Atlanta; I thrived of the comfort of familiarity. I felt like it would have been a nightmare to live anywhere else. I never even sought jobs in my major (Communications) because I felt in the long-run; I would have to move from Detroit to get “the good job.” </span></p>
<p><br><span class="font_large"> Then came 2008. By this time I was happily married and we were expecting our fourth child. It was time to move; even I understood it had to happen. The market was ripe, we needed more space, and I wanted an at-home studio/office to conduct business from. Once we found a house we both liked, I instantly got excited about the move. I was proud that I had financially put myself in a situation to give my family the perfect house. It reminded me of when my grandfather told me he felt fulfilled when they moved to Pinehurst in 1964. He had, “did right by his money,” which allowed him to do right by his family. But after I put that last, last box in the trunk of my car. I walked back in that house and cried for 60 minutes nonstop. I cried more than the deaths of both my grandparents, I cried more than I’ve ever cried in my life. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I was finally coming off the emotional crutches that I had clinched for so long. I was finally coming from up under the security blanket. I was alone in the house that day; which is how it should have been. It was my moment to reconcile and my home to say goodbye too. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> </span></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/47750082017-07-11T14:04:41-04:002022-04-23T04:21:38-04:00My Effort, Resentment, & Guilt and My Grandfather's Judgement.<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/c447ea1fbd3dfbc083b93ec0bbc82ea7d5ec5254/original/dad.jpg?1499795546" class="size_l justify_left border_" /></p>
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<p> <span class="font_large"> I had just wrapped up a pretty decent first date with a young lady; nothing major - just food and conversation. She invited me into her home to meet her mother so I took a seat on the couch, but by the time her mother came downstairs to greet me; I had kicked off my shoes and fell asleep. It was 1995, I was 19 years-old, I was trying to work 2 jobs and go to school but exhaustion had caught up with me. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> Now let me give you this disclaimer: this isn’t one of those stories about a young college kid working multiple menial jobs to finance his dream of a higher education. This isn’t a story about how I was trying to breaststroke through the treacherous waters of college and not get eaten by the student loan piranhas. This is actually a story about fatherhood and the lengths sons will go to in order to prove their father’s wrong. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> For as long as I can remember; my grandfather was never impressed with my work ethic (or lack thereof). My Saturday morning chores consisted of cleaning my room, vacuuming, and dusting furniture. I received a consistent, “You always half-do work,” upon completion. Household duties like cutting the grass or doing laundry were never passed down to me because he (and my grandmother) figured it would be “half-done” and they would have to go behind me. I was that kid that always got sent back out into the Detroit winter to shovel snow again because I didn’t finish the driveway. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> My academic efforts were just as unimpressive. I was a “C” student without a desire to be anything more. That drove my grandparents crazy. My grandfather constantly told me, “You have a don’t care altitude” and he was right. I was a day-dreamer, a kid who had imaginary friends, a kid who played with toys past the age in which kids are supposed to. I loved comic books, hip-hop, and the solace that came from being in my own world. In my eyes, an “A” meant the same as a “C” which meant I “passed;” nothing more nothing less. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> After my grandmother passed in 1992 (I was 15), my grandfather ramped up his, “going to college” rhetoric. His main declaration was, “Kahn, you have to go to college because if you have to do any real work for a living; you’ll starve to death.” This was followed by how I wasn’t cut out for assembly line work and blah, blah, blah. I swear I heard this speech every day and twice on Sundays. I heard to the point where it started to bother me, started to irritate me as if he was trying to use my biggest fault as a way to motivate me (and that shit wasn’t working). I graduated high school with a 2.0 overall and no other options other than community college. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> Now my grandfather masterfully set up an economic situation that would allow me to be a full-time student and not have to work or take out student loans. But I wanted a job. I wanted to be employed; I was 18 and wanted to prove something to him and myself. My first job was working for a factory that made swimming pool chemicals. I came home every day smelling like over used hot tub. That job kicked my ass but I refused to let my grandfather see it. I refused to accept I wasn’t cut from the same ebony steel my grandfather was carved from. My second jobs were working as a security guard at General Motors and a clerk at K-mart. I worked a flex schedule at GM meaning I would work 6am to 2pm some days or 10pm to 6am on other days. I was either going to school or K-Mart in between those hours. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> I worked both jobs simultaneously for about 5 months and even pulled off my first 3.0 in academic history. I worked the entire time I was in college (other than when my grandfather got sick) and was regarded as one of the hardest working dudes by most of the palaces I was employed at.; but my grandfather never got too see any of this. He passed 2 year before I received my bachelors in Communication from Oakland University. He never saw the relentlessness I poured into the carafe that contained my dreams. The sleepless nights, workshops, seminars, and books when I started my photography business. He never saw the maturation of my writing, my first published poem, the first article that was ran in a newspaper. He never saw me entertain via spoken word, never saw me speak to a room of teens who came from bumpier backgrounds that I did. The same way I resented his judgment on my work ethnic growing up – I now have guilt that I never showed him the Kahn he wanted to see while he was still alive to see him. He never was abler to witness the best version of me and I don’t even know if it would have been possible without him getting under my skin.</span></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/47651012017-07-03T14:22:56-04:002017-07-03T15:50:39-04:00Jay-Z, Chris Cornell and Being Aged out in Hip-Hop<p><span class="font_large"> </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/48f6b934a84b4bcca568a9a5e612471cf396d1c7/large/jigga.jpg?1499110968" class="size_xl justify_left border_" /> In a lot of ways being a hip-hop artist is like being a professional athlete. You have a short window to make a lot money and you’re going to have to come up with creative ways grow your income after your 20s are over. But many emcees stick to the music no matter how hard the struggle becomes. A lot of us paid top dollar to see our favorite emcees sell out venues like Joe Louis arena in the 90s but then paid barely anything to see those same artists at St. Andrews ten years later (and in some cases they settle for rocking a bar like Simons After Dark on a weekday). Sometimes the artist just isn’t making quality material anymore, but other times artists are “aged out the game.” </span></p>
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<p><br><span class="font_large"> Take a look at some of the elder statesmen of rap who are still recording; RedMan is 47, KRS One 51, LL Cool J 49, MethodMan 46, Busta Rhymes 45, Q-Tip 47. Snoop 45, Scarface 46, and De La Soul (Maseo 47, Dave 48, Posdnuos 47). A few have made albums that have a garnered national attention but most have had to depend on their loyal followings (or nonmusical related ventures) to stay relevant. Hip-hop brought this upon itself by embracing the “voice of the urban youth” mantra people assigned to it. But what happens when the youth grow up? What happens when your favorite 17 year-old rapper turns 47 and has a more mature voice that needs to be heard? Even 40 year-old fans will say things like, “His old ass need to sit down somewhere.” It’s actually backwards as hell. The older you get, the wittier and crafty you become. All those 20 and 30 year-old experiences should have created a well-rounded 40 year old with a lot of knowledge and good music to share. </span></p>
<p><br><span class="font_large"> Enter Jay-Z; 47 muthafuckin’ years-old. I don’t care if you like him, hate him, hate his music, hate his life, love his wife etc.. I don’t give a damn. I’m just happy that a 47 year-old rapper made an album that everyone is talking about, everyone is dissecting, and everyone is hating on. Hip-hop needs this. Hip-hop needs its older artists supported and embraced the same way rock-n-roll does Paul McCartney, Springsteen, Bon Jovi, and the Rolling Stones. Chris Cornell was 52 when he died after preforming at Detroit’s Fox Theater earlier this year. Sound Garden’s first album debuted in1988 and they reached their height in popularity in 1991. Who would be the hip-hop equivalent to Sound Garden? Would Public Enemy, A Tribe Called Quest, or Outkast be able to sell out the Fox (which holds 5,000 folks)? (I’m not talking about a “Back to the 90s” show where every artist gets to perform their 3 hottest cuts). </span></p>
<p><br><span class="font_large"> Last year Royce Da 5’9 dropped a number 1 album at 40 years-old. 50 Cent, Nas, Kayne, Eminem, and Andre3000 are also in their early 40s and I personally hope all my 90s favs keep rapping until they have nothing else to say. </span></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/47538792017-06-22T14:40:38-04:002017-06-22T16:29:01-04:00My Grandfather and Real Friendships<p> It seems almost anywhere that serves reasonable priced coffee or cheap beer; there will be a quartet of men, late in their years; congregating. They’ll meet weekly and even daily. If you’re a fly on the wall for any of the conversations, you’ll hear the usual talk of politics, sports, and personal stories from yesteryear. Bartenders and baristas will know them and their beverage preferences by name. This is the actual “country for old men.” It’s where they go when they’re not with the grand kids, wives, or bogged down by social obligations. It’s where they carve out their corner in Maslow’s “Hierarchy of Needs.” The old head that’s ALWAYS at the barbershop and the grandpa that’s always at some mall’s food court with his posse falls into this category as well. </p>
<p> In 1980 my grandfather (pop) decided to retire from Chrysler at a young 61 years of age. Chrysler had been struggling and my grandfather wanted to retire before they went out of business to preserve his pension. If you knew him, you know he would have been a natural fit for the coffee gatherings at McDonalds or Coney Islands. But he had a 4 year-old grandson (me) to raise and a wife with health issues to take care of. So instead of venturing off to a local watering hole to catch up with old friends; the watering hole came to him. </p>
<p> To say my grandfather had a lot of fiends is too mild. My grandfather had friendships with men who looked out for him when he needed to be looked out for. They were mostly blue collar men willing to lend an ear, a tool, their time, or a beer. Some would stop by a few times a year, but many would come over at least once a week. Pop would never ask me to leave the room. Instead he would let me be that fly on the wall and listen to old stories and laughs that might as well have been a foreign language to me. But what he was doing (indirectly I suppose) was showing me what real friendship were all about. He was allowing me to be a witness to his inner circle. The guys who loaned you a couple of bucks when you fucked over yours before payday, the guys who covered for you when you were running late to work, and the guys who were the first ones there when tragedy struck your family. These were friendships. Pop kept a Mason jar or old corn whisky in the fridge but that was reserved for his “ace boon coons.” </p>
<p> There was Mr. Clemmons. He was tall slender man who mentored pop a lot after Chrysler upgraded the power door-lock system and pop struggled to grasp it. In fact, he was pop’s go-to guy for everything car related. As Mr. Clemmons aged, he became ill with a Parkinson’s like disease but he still would come over and explain to pop how to fix whatever car issues he was having. Pop had this brown New Yorker that seemed to always have problems. I have vivid memories if Mr. Clemmons shaky index finger guiding pop through car repairs. </p>
<p> Mr. McKinley was a short dark complected kind gentleman with a huge smile. He was a talented painter who brushed portraits of pop, my mother, and my grandmother. His brother was Cadillac Mack. He was the proverbial old guy trying too hard to hold on to his youth. He chased 30 year old women, wore cheap jewelry, and was the kind of guy that would walk into the bar and buy everyone a drink. Pop would say to me, “Don’t be that guy when you get my age.” lol </p>
<p> There was 8-Mile. I don’t know his real name but he lived off of 8-Mile which is why everyone called him “8-Mile.” Chrysler fired him for being a functioning alcoholic. But he was so good at his job they had to hire 2 people to do it; they eventually hired 8-Mile back. Mr. Gerald was a talk brown skin guy with wavy hair going to the back. Pop used to talk about riding around with Gerald in his convertible in their younger years. Gerald’s wife suffered from Alzheimer’s disease and passed away when I was about 10. Less than a year later, he ran into his high school sweet heart and married her. </p>
<p> I didn’t see Mr. Webster a lot but that’s who pop stayed with when he first moved to Detroit from North Carolina. Mr. Webster also is the one that got pop to join the Free Masons. Mr. Steve was a tall heavy tongue speaking guy of Polish decent who lived in Hamtramck. When I was 8 years-old, pop transformed the back porch into an enclosed family room. Mr. Steve was a master carpenter and assisted pop free of charge. He even allowed me and my Fisher Price toolset to help out. </p>
<p> Milton was another one who didn’t stop by a lot. His son had been incarcerated from an involvement with a gang rape. Not sure the role he played in it but pop always used him as an example as why you shouldn’t hang out with certain people. Mr. Mitchell was a church friend (I could write a whole book about his church friendships). He was pop’s confident after my grandmother died in 1992. They talked every day about dealing with grief and moving forward. In a lot of ways I feel he saved pop from falling into a pit of depression. </p>
<p> There was also Mr. Bennet, Mr. Cardwell, Mr. Ernie (who loved some good wine), Mr. Donald and a bunch of others. All these men were from different periods in my grandfather’s life; men who were past their primes physically but not mentally. I remember their faces, their voices, and the love they had for my grandfather. I was an only-child who was home a lot and witnessing these interactions were a tour guide in how friendships should operate and how men don’t abandon each other their later years. It’s contrasting to my currently reality. Social media is my connection to most of my friends and I don’t make enough time to actually “visit” my friends. I’m too busy grinding within all the avenues of income or spending time with my family. I’ve allowed Facebook to take the place of the kind of interactions I grew up admiring, My son’s with have these kind of memoires. Instead, they just see dad hitting “like” on a status, a post, or a pic. </p>
<p>What does that say about me? About us? About the future?</p>
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<p> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/47178372017-05-22T12:18:57-04:002017-05-22T12:54:30-04:00Drake, Curry, The 90s, and Displaced Urban Masculinity<p> </p>
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<p><span class="font_regular"> The barbershop discussion sounded the same as others I’ve heard. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular"><em>“Isiah Thomas would have D’ed Curry up and dropped 40 on him. “ </em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular"><em>“Steph too soft to play in the 90s.” </em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">A few weeks later I walked into a similar conversation at a social gathering. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular"><em>“I just don’t see why people fuck with Drake, soft ass niggah.” </em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular"><em>“I don’t see it either” </em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular"><em>“A niggah like that wouldn’t have survived the 90s.” </em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular"> And there you have it. Add this to the list of Generation-X men criticizing tight jeans, corny hip-hop, touch fouls, 3-pointers, singing rappers, diva athletes, gay rappers/athletes, and every damn thing else they feel wasn’t born in the overly romanticized and extremely masculine universe known as the “1990s.” I’ve found myself in these discussions in person and online often and I see them as a form of displaced urban masculinity. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular"> Yeah I know; that sounds like I’m digging to deep and doing the most here (which I probably am) but displaced urban masculinity is real. When I hear the vigor and confidence in which my peers talk about walking in da’ club with Timbs and mean mugs, about backyard b-ball fouls and fights, and how these new kids are too soft for all that – what they’re really saying is, “In the 90s real men were hard and hostile!” And I just have to ask; why are so many 40 year-olds intent on defining urban masculinity this way? Why does the lack of aggression in sports and certain popular hip-hop artists bother us so much (Yong Thug anyone)? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular"> Maybe it’s an envy issue? Watching Steph put up 3 after 3 without being touched or knocked on his back feels fraudulent to some. Watching Drake; a rapper who has sung his way into millions of “downloads” feels like it’s bad for the culture (and wasn’t Drake supposed to suffer the same fate as Ja Rule by now?). I’ve watched plenty of fellow AAU basketball dads yell at their sons (with the Odel Beckham” hairstyles) from the sidelines: “Man up!” “Be a man out there!” and “Quit playing soft!” Hell; I’ve even said it! </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular"> To be perfectly honest; I was never the toughest teen on the block and I was easily the least likely to be seen standing over kid with bloody fist screaming, “Niggah what!” I was a skinny grand ma’s boy who dressed in the armor of an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans. The extra layers of that denim girth along with Dr. Dre/Wu Tang tough talk helped me achieve the masculinity I wanted to be defined as (at least on the exterior). Of course I had my grandfather as a great example of manhood but I was not mature enough to model myself after him. He was a responsible family man who knew how to prioritize his life. He was inviting and influential; but not intimidating. He used candor and an open heart to get his point across rather than vulgarities and a clinched fist. He gave respect was given respect without their being any sort of aggressive tone. But my grandfather was never a teenager growing up in Detroit during the 90s. The wanna be alpha males called themselves “real niggahs” and the further you feel from that tree- the less masculine you were perceived to be. In some situations getting bumped in a high-school hallway or getting your sneakers stepped on were considered declarations of war against your manhood. In fact I feel black folks in general have this oversensitive tension about being respected (another essay for another day though). </span></p>
<p><br><span class="font_regular"> It’s all fear? Everyday there is another think piece written on the “War against Masculinity” and maybe the debates on Steph and Drake are really just the hood’s voice weighing in on the discussion? I don’t know; I’ll leave it for you to decide. But I’m sure when I go to get lined-up in the shop this Friday- ole soft ass Steph Curry will once again find his way into the discussion.</span></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/45502902017-01-14T14:50:30-05:002022-06-01T21:16:46-04:00 Meeting Redman and Method Man And The Day My Rap Career Officially Died. <p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/d39bbe8a21ff6385bbdca4b28cff77ec587ebaa8/medium/red1.jpg?1484423221" class="size_m justify_none border_none" alt="" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/3b2d108c6c95071d11b34e45d8669c791d62ac4e/medium/red3.jpg?1484423222" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/d689d65f9a93a4603c1115c151cb65bfa6dbd89c/medium/red5.jpg?1484423223" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/0a176df3bb748be626426c19c1549881488f05df/medium/red99.jpg?1484423223" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /> It was late November 1994 and Redman and Method Man had just busted into BuyRite music on Detroit’s West 7 Mile to promote their separate Def Jam releases (Redman’s <em>Dare Iz a Darkside</em> dropped on 11/22 and Method Man’s <em>Tical</em> dropped on 11/15). They were doing what was called an “In Store” where music artists would go to different record shops around the country and promote their albums any time they had performances. <br> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/5e395a7885923b92df4d6a3900a249dfb17c1cec/medium/red888.jpg?1484423223" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /> Red and Meth were cool as hell. There was no big entourage, Red played a few cuts at the DJ booth, Meth danced, people took photos, and girls asked for hugs. There were no more than ten people there including the folks that worked at the record store. I stood in amazement. I was 18 years-old and this was the closest I had been to an national hip-hop act. <br> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/66f36bfdcc594bd52ff78495dcba551c30f9a30d/medium/red9.jpg?1484423222" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" />As I continued to stand and observe in amazement; a dude to the right of me started rap. Meth walked over and he started to rap and next thing I knew; I’m in a straight up cipher! Now I personally wasn’t a true rapper but I did have notebooks on top of notebooks full of raps. The year before I had even recorded some stuff with my boy Mario and his cousin Olie in a studio. But I never thought the stuff was that good. I was just a hip-hop fan that loved the culture; BUT……..well, I figured if you get a chance to be in a cipher with Red and Meth; you better rap!!! Then as different dudes dropped their bars I started going over rhymes in my head. I knew I had some. I loved to write and you only live once you know? Then it happened, dude to the left of me finished and it was my turn. <br> I looked up at shook my head “no” and the cipher went on without me. I choked. I was too damn scared. Lol. That was the last time I even considered “rapping;” I threw myself in to spoken word and other forms of writing but that was still one of my best hip-hop experiences. Both Meth and Red signed my posters (which I still have) and I hung out at the record shop till they left for their next destination.<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/aecd8c0d61b5ed44b66dc1c46f3faa47cce087fc/medium/red6.jpg?1484423223" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/2d4be4170d1ea0eb59c91ce724091370c7ebb547/medium/red555.jpg?1484423407" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/45397762017-01-06T10:34:02-05:002017-08-03T15:52:06-04:00Why Love Jones Was the Most Important and Unique Black Movie of the 90s<p> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/21231b6921559522e3c373c3a8a3c8b85e95f8a9/small/lovejonesmovie.jpg?1483716815" class="size_s justify_left border_none" alt="" /><span class="font_large">Many African American movies of the early 90s gave us insightful looks into the culture of violence that resided within the black community. Sometimes the movies really hit close to realty and other times they were just entertaining. None were bad movies but all them took used their creative approach in different ways. <br> <em>New Jack City</em> (1991) was mostly entertaining and the portrayals of drug dealers, crack heads were exaggerated. <em>Boyz in the hood</em> (1991) hit home in a way that made you think about the movie the next morning after you saw it. <em>Juice </em>(1992), was a good movies but lacked a message. <em> Sugar Hill</em> (1993), was a drama that won because of the performance of the actors not the script. <em>Menace To Society</em> (1993) was the most violent of them all. Although parts were humorous and based on reality; it was mostly exaggerated. <em>South Central</em> (1992) hit home. <em>Poetic Justice</em> (1993) was all over the place, and <em>Jason Lyric’s</em> (1994) had an equal amount of violence and sex. <em>Above the Rim</em> (1994), was just for entertainment and <em>Dead Presidents</em> (1995), was violent but had a lot of strong sub layers regarding 1970s/post war black struggles in American. Spike Lee was the only director of the 1990s that brought a variety of black films to the big screen but there was still something missing. <br><br> And then there was <em>Love Jones </em>(1996); a film that went in the complete opposite direction of every other black movie of the 90s. The screenplay wasn’t amazing but pretty consistent to it’s white/mainstream counterparts (in a Sleepless in Seattle kind of way). The power of the movie lies within what the characters were and what they weren’t. Now for many other folks; <em>Love Jones</em> resonated because of the romantic poetry overtones and the Ebony magazineish story line. But for me; it was deeper. <br><br><br>1. The word “nigga” was only used twice. This was huge for me because I saw this movie at a time when using the “n-word” was a regular part of my vocabulary. When Bernadette Speakes character called Bill Bellamy and Leonard Robert’s characters “Niggas;” they responded, “Why we gotta’ be niggas?” It was one scene, one exchange; but it was a heavy statement. “Why we gotta’ be niggas?” Essentially the whole movie is about black folks who aren’t “niggas.” <br>2. No one was killed and no violence was shown or mentioned. They hung out in the city (not the burbs) of Chicago and simply chilled out. I know Chicago has gang and crime problems like crazy but many folks do live there and thrive doing so. I’m from Detroit and I can relate. Some folks act like living in Detroit is like living in a worn torn part of the Middle East. Me and many of my friends grew up in Detroit and didn’t have to wear bullet proof vests. <br>3. Folks had “real people jobs” (teacher, writer, photographer, store clerk). I know the term “real jobs” sounds kind of dumb, but it’s the truth. All black folks aren’t drug dealers or ball players as in the movies of the early 90s and we aren’t all lawyers and doctors like in the movies of the late 90s. Many of us are in the middle (like most of America) as were these characters. <br>4. There was no buffonary or over-the-top comedy. The humor was subtle and popped up in natural conversation between the characters. Basically nobody had to make an ass out of themselves to earn a laugh. <br>5. They talked about regular things and they were kind of like the friends I wish I had. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> Now let’s continue see how much of a contrast <em>Love Jones</em> was to the 90s; let’s look at the movies that were released after it. <em> Soul Food </em>(1997) Players Club (1998) <em>How to Be A Player</em> (1997) <em>Slam </em>(1998) <em>The Wood</em> (1999) <em>The Best Man</em> (1999)<em> The Brothers</em> (2001) <em>Two Can Play at That Game</em> (2001) just to name a few. <em>Soul Food</em> was a classic, <em>Players Club</em> good but hood, and while <em>Slam </em>was inspiring; it was still about a young man facing jail time. The rest of the movies featured a bunch of grown up Theo Huxtables trying to figure out how to live responsibility and be honest with women. None of the movies were truly bad, but all of them featured too many shallow characters defined by their suburban lifestyles. It almost felt like it was a knee jerk reaction to all the hood movies of the early 90s. Black folks found their inner bourgeoisness and it seemed every movie were Boomerang wannabes. <br><br> Now I do consider that a tough love critique but I’m not complaining. Black folks have always been concerned about our portrayals on TV and Film. If you’re too slapstick funny then we (unfairly at times) say you’re “stepin’ & fetching”. If you’re too “hood,” then we say you’re stereotypical. If you’re too “upper-class/suburban” than we say you’re trying to be white. A movie like<em> Soul Food</em> won because the characters weren’t caricatures of people we know but truly resembled people we know. The same can be said for <em>Love Jones</em>. We want to see characters that resonate, that remind of us of folks we grew up with, that remind us of classmates and coworkers. <em> Love Jones</em> embodied that in the 1990s while mostly everyone else was doing something different. The only question is why director and writer Theodore Witcher never made another movie?</span></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/45346762017-01-03T00:10:14-05:002022-05-24T07:31:22-04:00#FaSho90sBox “My Personal Journey Through Urban Fashion”<p>#FaShow90sBox is my story and my journey through urban fashion. I went from being a kid that just wanted to dress like his grandfather to being a kid what wanted to dress like his favorite rapper. Because my grandparents were so rigid with money; the allure of the clothes the cool kids wore only intensified. The memory of what you “wanted” can be just as vivid as the memories of the stuff you had. <br> <br>So I decided to add my collection of vintage and retro clothes with me and my wife’s childhood photos to create a photo essay of this journey. <br> <br>Enjoy</p><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/c0e854930a5eefb316b31decb698fb9801e07470/original/fashsho01.jpg?1483416280" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>1. The 70s Brown Leather Coat. This was my first memory of my grandfather having a piece a clothing that I wanted. He would wear a coat like this to church, his Mason meetings, or out on dates with my grandmother. Every now and then I would go in the closet and try it on.<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/5501fa78db8e09be9ee30872923165f1ff16d452/original/fashsho02.jpg?1483416282" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>2. 2 years ago I finally found one on Ebay for about 70 bucks. My 8 year-old says I look good! lol</p><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/d7115b951961c20005d2c3170b863b91076dbe8c/original/fashsho03.jpg?1483416282" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>3.The first brand I ever desired was Adidas. This mostly came from Run Dmc’s classic hit “My Adidas”. I was 10 years-old when it dropped and that was probably the year hip-hop started to influence me. The velour tracksuits, Kangols, and shelltoes were such a classic look.</p><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/613c3ebc71ca0c78cc00d803b930536b1ff43164/original/fashsho04.jpg?1483416285" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>4.<em>Breakin</em>’ came out in 1984 but I didn’t see until it came on TV in 1986/1987. My grand ma made an agreement with me; if I didn’t get any Ds in school, and I saved my allowance for 5 weeks – then she would pay the rest for my Adidas on my birthday. The t-shirt was an added bonus.</p><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/9bafc5a12a257bde55876a2ab3526fb8ffc2e2f6/original/fashsho05.jpg?1483416284" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>5.I am convinced that my grand ma didn’t let me where Pony’s because of the Detroit drug gang “Pony Down.” Here we have a couple of retro tracksuit tops, Kangols of course, with the famous Pony M-100s and the not so famous Pony City Wings Cosmo series.<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/0311743ec5dadcfd9ab6bae05d276dd65f08f1e1/original/fashsho06.jpg?1483416285" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>6.Now I did have a tracksuit. But….it was a Wilson. Lol To the far right is my wife with one of her best friends. They were a little fresher than me. Our beautiful daughter in the middle wearing that Adidas suit with all the swagger in the world. Lol<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/ab7172160ceb4255e3ae1febb84084642a1e7e9e/original/fashsho07.jpg?1483416285" class="size_l justify_center border_" />7. True story. My grand ma bought a pair of Puma Roma’s on clearance for 25 bucks when I was in 6th grade. I made the mistake in leaving one in the locker-room after gym class. The next day somebody had put it in the toilet and I was heartbroken. Name brands were hard to get my household and I had a b-boy original. I still love Puma though. I tried to talk my 13-year old into getting a pair but he wasn’t feeling them.</p><br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/08c8d66481efbf0e700841d5a5a2b8434954eeb3/original/fashsho08.jpg?1483416286" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>8. Basically I would go to the mall with my grandparents. We would go to a store called “Merry Go Round” and I come out with a rayon shirt and a pair of Damage jeans. Also, I was one of those kids that carried around a pager that wasn’t on. Lol<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/37dbace4dc7703fccba82ed7defaed55dabda382/original/fashsho09.jpg?1483416289" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>9. My awesome wife to the right. This is how all the cute girls in 8th grade dressed wearing a Triple Fat Goose. Me to the right dressed like the boys who always got the cute girls. The furry Kango, Cazals, and the parka coat.</p><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/dd82a3ebd9a6269148c9741e14aff0b845789d94/original/fashsho10.jpg?1483416288" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>10. Another Merry Go Round staple. Get Use by Elle denim skirt with those team shirts that were on every street corner and mall sneaker store in the 90s (the University of Miami ones were especially popular).<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/168313fcf201429c650ba8bf86b0d424a45f5a51/original/fashsho11.jpg?1483416290" class="size_l justify_center border_" />11. Le coq sportif was one of those brands that I think I wanted for maybe one summer. From I understand some Philly cats got it popping.<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/6453652e0fab0439e80d324a549efa03c5f01428/original/fashsho12.jpg?1483416290" class="size_l justify_center border_" />12.I wanted Sergio Tacchini bad. Again my grand ma refused because of the price. The slightly older kids in the neighborhood used to wear stuff like this. I knew if they were wearing it; it HAD to be cool! Lol<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/3c70d2e53fcde5e485a458296293c00a9d6d0350/original/fashsho13.jpg?1483416290" class="size_l justify_center border_" />13. Honestly; I bought that African Medallion at the gas station for five bucks. This was during the X-Clan, Native Tongue movement in hip-hop. But to be honest; the sense of culture of history resonated with me and now I have a wide assortment of beads and medallions. <br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/c914bed817c4742ba37ebf034c0b4804b555c27a/original/fashsho14.jpg?1483416291" class="size_l justify_center border_" />14. My 13 year-old and my 18-year old reenacting a DJ Jazzy Jeff and Fresh Prince photo.<br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/ea4497f236d87cd0f3e2fdbeac92891794699786/original/fashsho15.jpg?1483416293" class="size_l justify_center border_" />15. My 18 year-old reenacting a famous LL Cool J photo.<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/d9cda08e2587731df9822e8bab93df3359df390f/original/fashsho16.jpg?1483416295" class="size_l justify_center border_" />16. The Fila’s you just hadddd to have. I mean some of the coldest shoes ever. My grandfather bought me some in high-school.<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/bd5772c25cdb1a99c10a0646e857dd13f466ff1a/original/fashsho17.jpg?1483416294" class="size_l justify_center border_" />17. Ellese; another one of those brands I wanted for a summer. That track suit top is vintage Bob Marley endorsed and I know the Wu Tang snapback is form a different era but it matches to good not to add it in! lol </p><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/5715bc8ce2a551a9b7d73e7e7f8e08a1d27e2b2a/original/fashsho18.jpg?1483416295" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>18. Nike had a lot of cool stuff. Here we have a pair of retro Airmax 87s with a vintage track suit top. </p><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/71c2a05541525042f64a7b0551a6850a787c89dc/original/fashsho19.jpg?1483416295" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>19. Everything about Cross Colours was dope. How they spelled it, the Afrocentric and Kente patterns they used, and most importantly; they were baggy!<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/4c13f75f740dce4066126c32249ced8b6e3320be/original/fashsho20.jpg?1483416297" class="size_l justify_center border_" />20. My wife in the background wearing her Cross Colours back in the 90s while my 13 year-old has on some of my vintage and retro gear.<br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/9e37076f7ccc1ba1e785b634379df34269269436/original/fashsho21.jpg?1483416297" class="size_l justify_center border_" />21. The only, only reason I knew about Stussy was hip-hop legend and producer J. Dilla. I truly only bought shirts because he was rocking them. Stussy should be where Supreme is in urban fashion lore but that’s a different topic.<br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/6da99f1daf1c6388c68a45fa991c5df4e488d4e3/original/fashsho22.jpg?1483416298" class="size_l justify_center border_" />22. 1991; my grand ma’s last Christmas. After much begging she bought me the Notre Dame Starter coat. This was a crazy time. Folks were getting shot over a damn $100 coat! The midwest teams were easy to find but if you had a team like Duke, San Francisco, or North Carolina – you probably avoided walking home from school. </p><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/fd1de7b2d3b17bdcbf894337002dce968aa6a7cf/original/fashsho23.jpg?1483416299" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>23. My wife and daughter rocking the fly tennis skirts of the 90s.<br><br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/3650367ece43511844ef4979c5c43e32374dbfc8/original/fashsho24.jpg?1483416300" class="size_l justify_center border_" />24. My wife thought she was so fly but my 8 year-old inherited her good looks.</p><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/f4ebfbcb0bc57f28c6050ba8880d2a6c8e18bfb7/original/fashsho25.jpg?1483416301" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>25. A striped Ralph Lauren button-up and some guess jeans. This makes me want to jump Marty McFly like back to the 90s.<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/08f34a252f0c288caae37771ea28905375c7a0e3/original/fashsho26.jpg?1483416302" class="size_l justify_center border_" />26. My 13-year with the brownish colored Guess jeans and the Polo turtle neck. Now that Polo shirt I’m wearing in the faded picture could tell some major stories. We used to call that the “neighborhood polo” meaning that everyone in the neighborhood had worn it. Lol All of us went to different high-schools so we actually swapped gear frequently but the “neighborhood polo” would get swapped every day for a week sometimes. The shirt matched everything and none of us had ever seen a shirt like it!<br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/8ebfff36eb700a36fd67530e5ab57c240984b390/original/fashsho27.jpg?1483416303" class="size_l justify_center border_" />27. Everybody loves the Grant Hill 96 version but the 95s were the first and my favs. They dropped a year after I graduated high-school. Grant Hill was the man back then. Fila put mural of him on the side of a building in downtown Detroit. Also this is around the time bandannas had found their way from gang stapes and into urban fashion.<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/2f3e2b766ab51c0dc9b6b5b5311a1b591a0bb1e2/original/fashsho28.jpg?1483416303" class="size_l justify_center border_" />28. My 13 year-old rocking the exact same shirt I had. The Nike shirts of the 90s were the best. This was before they went to the goofy slogans and they just let the images and artwork do the talking.<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/4efed32927f306c5329dd2021e49a040a999de75/original/fashsho29.jpg?1483416305" class="size_l justify_center border_" />29. Marithe Francois Girbaud made some of the coolest stitched jeans and denim sets. It’s a shame they went out of business.</p><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/315f9e5f9b5712b9ab5342fa2b1af73a75ef6b42/original/fashsho30.jpg?1483416306" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>30. One of my senior pics taken by Motown Photography. I had those Girbauds looking right! Lol<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/eb3378710b1bbf4bba7502142e3322deb1a0def6/original/fashsho31.jpg?1483416306" class="size_l justify_center border_" />31. Now we rocked with Eddie Bauer but not too much. Now my boy Mario had the yellow version of the Perry Ellis jacket to the right. That jacket is epic. It always topped off an outfit just right.<br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/2e6f1edc49b350e3b09100c9a10e0953b090ce9f/original/fashsho32.jpg?1483416308" class="size_l justify_center border_" />32. High School photos of my wife and I wearing our Tommy shirts. Now I probably wore that white Tommy 5 times tops. It was one of those shirts that you just couldn’t wear a lot because folks would think you’re wearing the same shirt all the time. Lol<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/4381dfde9c6e69b758cefeb4a0c7ba07201909cb/original/fashsho33.jpg?1483416309" class="size_l justify_center border_" />33. But you couldn’t avoid Tommy. This styles and colors were bold and in your face and plus every damn rapper had it on!</p><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/f477724f43deaf613f4fe5049cc442b57c530e4c/original/fashsho34.jpg?1483416309" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>34. Before Lil Uzi Vert brought Nautica back to life; it was a 90s staple. It always seemed laid back. As you can see my wife and I had similar taste in clothes and colors.<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/3871601119a02e07abf80c23b1dc2e1993516b69/original/fashsho35.jpg?1483416310" class="size_l justify_center border_" />35. Was it just me or did Nautica Competition seem like their answer to Polo Sport. Lol<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/df7906a384fc97dbc259c9990955d5f1270ec210/original/fashsho36.jpg?1483416311" class="size_l justify_center border_" />36. When it came to super baggy; nobody could outdo Karl Kani. I wore Karl Kani well into mid 2000s. His clothes fit great and looked great- all starting form that first edition. <br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/bb1fab2102577bdd2c70d60a5d945f1293ec6cd5/original/fashsho37.jpg?1483416311" class="size_l justify_center border_" />37. Now I could write a 30 page article on Maurice Malone. When he wasn’t pushing his super dope clothing brand; was financially carrying the Detroit hip-hop scene on his back in the 90s. The Hip-Hop Shop changed lives for many Detroit artists. #RIPBigProof<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/a941ed066b171fc238711410a4632b0dbcd09a99/original/fashsho38.jpg?1483416312" class="size_l justify_center border_" />38. My wife and I on each end and our 18 year-old in the middle. Last time I wore a Coogi was 1999. I was at Coco’s House of Comedy and the comedian Foolish clowned me for wearing a sweater on in the summertime (it was actually spring though lol).<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/45e77e86910549f869b0cb28e0a414544e8f77df/original/fashsho39.jpg?1483416313" class="size_l justify_center border_" />39. Don’t front. It was For Us By Us and we allllll wore it. I know I did!! I had a whole bunch of this stuff!<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/c5563ca3181075169c11a635b8a1129044d18745/original/fashsho40.jpg?1483416314" class="size_l justify_center border_" />40. My 8 year-old rocking a couple of Biggie poses in her girl’s Coogi. Swagger on a million.<br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/3cc1e3b323533bd607385a0ef1acb35a0db0d627/original/fashsho41.jpg?1483416315" class="size_l justify_center border_" />41. Didn’t matter if it was Carhartt or Dickies. Workwear was/is the easiest stuff to wear. Most of it is camo or a solid color and you just throw it on and mob out. Those are a very underrated pair of Rockport boots in the upper left hand corner. Rockport was big in Detroit; not sure about everywhere else.<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/a3cf885560a0ed1b44e650707d0da834dceefb8d/original/fashsho42.jpg?1483416316" class="size_l justify_center border_" />42. A few relics from Mossimo back before they were Target mainstays. Those are a pair of not-so-old Huff hi-tops next to them. Different eras but they match. Lol <br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/85270a260f3abc39267317834a14a350bc1df960/original/fashsho43.jpg?1483416316" class="size_l justify_center border_" />43. Why exactly did we wear our jogging pants like this?<br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/033ef5c4d90734faad8533128460ff29999c41a6/original/fashsho44.jpg?1483416317" class="size_l justify_center border_" />44. I’ve never been a fan of hockey but when hockey jerseys found their way into urban fashion; I went out and got one!! Lol Now my boy Randy to the left was actually a hockey fan! Lol </p><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/2d42776dd53cf3f88f4ff7e1cb0e32b183738e7f/original/fashsho45.jpg?1483416318" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>45. As my memory serves me correct; Iceberg was the first one to the cartoon characters Lol (FUBU later followed)! True story. My boy Randy’s brother sold boosted Iceberg gear to everybody in the hood. One day we all met at the bar for karaoke night and we all had on the same Iceberg sweatshirt! Lol <br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/a4d526874324929cce9bc3ae0099320c00808094/original/fashsho46.jpg?1483416318" class="size_l justify_center border_" />46. Like I said; I wore Karl Kani well into the 200s. Nothing is or will ever be as fly as velour tracksuit. And proof that you can wear Tims with anything! Lol<br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/5a07cfbcdbe42627586b0896798bdaf2fbb327c2/original/fashsho47.jpg?1483416319" class="size_l justify_center border_" />47. The internet changed how all of us dressed. About 5 years ago I was in the airport with my wife and I noticed this dude across from us with this this green jacket (orange and green are two of my favorite colors). I googled the jacket; (Express), bought it from EBay for 15 bucks because I knew I had some green and orange Pro-Keds to go with it.<br><br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/9469365fc1d2a14a10482a5c100b9006c8be3a42/original/eboni.jpg?1483421925" class="size_l justify_center border_" />47. 90s photoshoot I did last year. The varsity jacket, the stone washed jeans - this girl nailed it<br><br><br><br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/77750812ad2ec3046ec3f739da0f5e44cb16e61a/original/fashsho48.jpg?1483416320" class="size_l justify_center border_" />48. Soon I started creating whatever I couldn’t find in stores. I wanted a hip-hop camo jacket so I went to the army surplus store, bought one, and created it. I wanted a Bob Marley/Jimi Hendrix military jacket; so a found generic ones, patches, and created them. </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/45105332016-12-14T11:36:29-05:002016-12-14T13:04:42-05:00Why Kayne West Is Not Hard to Understand<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/7e15f09f3644a6c7ce409f9fd3c857c88640e830/original/kayne-west.jpg?1481733235" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>Writer and blogger Jessica Ann Mitchell says Kayne has a “Frantz Fannon complex,” and his social and racial rants have more to do with him not getting a “seat at the table” rather than him actually caring about social and racial issues. Another blogger attributes Kayne’s blond hair and recent political affiliations to his mental health crisis. <br><br>Well; that all could be true but there is another layer. <br><br>Kayne has shown he’s the kind of cat that feels he can remake, redefine, and reevaluate any damn thing he wants too. I once heard Will Smith say (and I’m paraphrasing), “The world says 2 + 2 = 4 but you have to be willing to believe that you make 2+2 = anything you want it too.” That’s the world Kayne lives in and he’s shown it time and time again. <br><br>*We called Kim K. a talentless rich girl who got famous off a porn vid; Kayne called her a style icon, a trendsetter, and marries her. <br><br>*We called his clothes “zombie apparel” and he says “my shit is hot and I’m redefining fashion” while folks line up for 6 hours awaiting the opening of his pop-up<br>stores and the rest of pack get the H&M knock off versions. <br><br>* We considered the auto tuned filled <em>Yeezus </em>“weird;” while he called it a masterpiece and the millennials lined up like crazy for his concerts. <br><br>*So now he goes and sends Donald Trump a FB request (in person). Donald Trump has fosted some of the most racial divisive rhetoric ever but Kayne says he wanted to “discuss multicultural issues”; he says he wants to have a, “direct line of communication with the future president.” Lol. Ok dude whatever. But I don’t think it’s a front and I think he actually believes that because he always believes in something the rest of us don’t. I don’t think he’s cooning, been bought out, or cloned. This is the same cat that wined like a baby because his best-buds won’t let their daughter go on playdates his daughter. He brought his other best-bud on stage straight out the rehab clinic to give him a hug. He went off on his ex-lover’s baby daddy over a misinterpreted tweet. This dude has always been a cry baby and awkwardly sincere at the same time. He’s always been this odd transparent symphony of non-stop contradictions, mistimed rants, inaccurate statements, and good music. Allllllll of this shit is “Kayne being Kayne.” <br><br>But hell; what do I know. Maybe he’s just cozying up to Trump because Obama called him a “jackass” years ago. Either way; it’s all a part of this crazy unbelievable, historic year of 2016.</p>
<div> </div>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/38180692015-08-13T13:29:58-04:002017-01-11T08:20:33-05:00The N.W.A. Complex, Why Many of us have it <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/03615a25889cd7789be7d925830938d19eee83ab/small/cd.jpg?1439486979" class="size_s justify_left border_" />I know it feels kind of awkward. The N.W.A. movie is coming out and you have mixed guilt and feelings about wanting to see it. Let me guess; you’re my age (39). You grew in the prime of the gangsta’ rap era. “Boyz in da Hood” made you feel rebellious and “Bitches and shit but hoes and tricks” was a mainstay on your Sony Walkman. You bought your Raiders cap from the gas station for 5 bucks, yo’ mamma cussed you out for answering the phone by saying, “Who dis?” and every chance you got- you answered a question by saying, “Theseeee nuts.” You talked a 20 something year-old cat at the store into buying you a 40oz of beer, you started drinking Gin & Juice, you taught yourself how to roll a blunt, you used your allowance money to get a subscription to “Low-rider” magazine, you even grew O-Dog braids and started wearing sunglasses (Locs) inside the mall.<br> It’s not your fault. We were all just victims and lovers of pop culture. We didn’t ask for N.W.A. and the rest of gangsta rap but it was given to us and we loved it. It sounded good, it was produced well, you had to sneak and buy it and at times stay up late to see the good stuff. It was the background music to our world. It had bass, it was edgy, it was nasty and it was “ours.” Didn’t matter the content or the topic – it was ours. Our parents and grandparents had their own music and we had OURS. That music got us through break-ups, started fights, helped us avoid fights, made us say “fuck school, “ and made us stay in school. We cruised, we flossed, we got numbers, hell; we had a damn good time! lol<br> Fast-forward 20 years later and the relationship is mixed. Gangsta’ rap has become the ex-girlfriend that got you though your childhood but deep down; she had issues you just didn’t see. We’re parents now, we’re scholars, we’re husbands, educators, and we’re “saved”. Women aren’t bitches, they aren’t hoes, and they aren’t tricks. It’s not cool or justifiable to beat a woman’s ass or smack her around. Women are God’s gift to us they have borne our children and held us down when shit got tight. There is more to life than pussy, more to life than spending 40 hours’ worth of pay on a set of over –priced rims, and we’re tired of niggas killing other niggas in every other rap song.<br> And THENNNNNNNN COMES this N.W.A. movie. It feels good and nostalgic but we have to admit- the lyrics weren’t the most positive Lol I’m going to go see it. I’ll take my sons actually. At this point in my life I can assess things better. I’m more analytical. I’ll watch it, critique it, possibly enjoy it and explain it to my sons in its proper perspective. Yes; I’ll nod my head when they I hear “Dopeman” and might even get out my seat when “Boyz in da Hood” comes on. But I won’t be buying Raiders hat and I won’t be singing “Fuck the Police” in the shower. Nope, I’m going to take the movie and store it my Kahn’s history, hip-hop’s history, where it deserves to be. <br>For better or worse. Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/38165052015-08-12T11:53:22-04:002017-01-11T08:20:33-05:00“Beauty & The Box” (Revisited) The Reason for the Madness<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/faf3b40cfc38f17e164f944141684064ac46cd40/large/b1.jpg?1439394503" class="size_l justify_left border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/dd72d7ddfb99de94533892c6661a0c80e19b406d/large/b2.jpg?1439394506" class="size_l justify_left border_" />It usually starts like this- an early morning drive, 24 ounces of coffee, and a random text to my assistant Paula Styer about the wackiest photo idea ever. I’ll give her credit, she never responds by saying, “Kahn, you’re crazy,” or” Kahn, it’s too fucking early for this nonsense.” No; she says, “Sounds groovy, when do we shoot?!” <br><br>That’s how 90 percent of my creative projects are born and that’s how last year’s “Beauty & The Box” was spawned. From the outset; it does sound irrational – “Let’s get some ballerinas, some boomboxes, and put them in front of Detroit’s most notable buildings.”<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/4177834d0e46cc1d3b84abe4a55dc26540a613b6/large/b5.jpg?1439394505" class="size_l justify_left border_" />But in reality the project was driven by the things that I love – hip-hop, art/architecture and Detroit. I felt it would be very symbolic for a city that has defined itself by its music culture and that is constantly redefining itself with its art culture. The architecture was main piece for me. People come from all over the world to see the buildings that have already been decayed or partially torn down but seem to act the buildings that are still standing aren’t work praise. <br>So, “Yes!” I’m crazy enough to believe that the menage-e-trois of ballerinas, boomboxes, and architecture makes perfectly good sense and helps define Detroit’s history, present, and future.<br> <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/53a9f81fbc430dc3674f2c6dd60a77a0bea4a7b1/large/b7.jpg?1439394508" class="size_l justify_left border_" /><br> <br><br> <br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="HPxwEGFCcrc" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/HPxwEGFCcrc/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HPxwEGFCcrc?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/38078102015-08-07T10:50:29-04:002017-01-11T08:20:33-05:00Detroit: City of God (Reprise) The series of photos known as “Detroit: City of God” actually started one day in 2003 while I was visiting a friend’s church. It was a rainy day and there were several leaks, the carpet had a bad stench to it, and the fabric on the pews was peeling. But you know what? Nobody cared. The church was small, quaint, and quiet. People were there to pray thanks, understand, and asked for forgiveness (like any other church I guess)<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/afb91c4482e1fa1262d6e0bb1ff0e3ed4983675f/medium/image2.png?1438958710" class="size_m justify_left border_" /><br><br><br><br><br><br>I left that day with allllllll kinds of thoughts. Like; does God care how big your church is or how big your heart is? Does your entrance into the afterlife have anything at all to do with the reputation of the church you attend? Do people spend too much time and effort worried about the brick and mortar of the building instead of the love and sincerity in their souls? <br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/3c4528bfb4c932f9d08c8bdaaff114846de957e3/medium/image4.png?1438958712" class="size_m justify_left border_" /><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/6a7a21517fdbd78d37fbd8884260a5c0a9c76e6d/medium/image5.png?1438958717" class="size_m justify_left border_" /><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>I’m extremely analytical and I don’t mind letting “anything” inspire me. So these are photographs of the churches, the ones you wouldn’t step foot in, the ones homeless people sleep in front of, the ones where the “building fund” is not overly talked about (I assume), and duck tape is used to fix all issues. Some had been closed for a while, some had just reopen, and some I don't know. All these photographs are at least 10 years old. Some of the churches have upgraded, some have moved, and some look the same. It's on my perspective on Detroit, religion, and being human.<br><br>To see the rest click <a contents="City of God Photos" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.ksantori.com/site3/#!/3/featured/Detroit:_City_of_God/1">City of God Photos</a><br><br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="yht2Ov9l4RQ" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/yht2Ov9l4RQ/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yht2Ov9l4RQ?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe> Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/38029202015-08-04T14:06:27-04:002023-10-16T10:45:00-04:00Writing Poems about My Grand Parents and Why <p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/72789f9ef265dc755ae09dcaa600ab12e9fa7ae5/small/coteal.jpg?1438711422" class="size_s justify_left border_" /></p>
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<p><br> When I chose to write the poems Gardenias (for my grandfather) and Impatiens (for my grandmother); there were many intentional thought processes at work. I grew up adoring the way my grandmother loved flowers. I mean this woman LOVED flowers! She nursed them daily and effortlessly. She was capable of growing anything she desired. Trips to Eastern Market and Franks Nursery were routine and flowers were watered in the morning and night.<br> In those poems; the Impatiens and Gardenias represent life. I treat my stories and poems about my grandparents the same way she treated her flowers. I want them to keep growing and I want them to keep living. I’m big in to “symbols.” I believe it’s been therapeutic and creatively enhancing to remember them as wise leafs of nature.<br><br><br><br><strong>Impatiens</strong><br>For Coteal Smith<br><br><em>The last Saturday in April<br>grand ma beat the sun to the flower bed,<br>water-hose in one hand, trowel in the other.<br>She loosened up the winter-hardened dirt,<br>making seventy-two teacup sized holes filled<br>slightly with water. Her pink palms -<br>moist and chilled from the morning due <br>held each flower the same way a child holds <br>a baby chicken after it’s egg has hatched.<br>Come here baby, help grand ma plant the Impatiens.<br>My five-year old eyes widened to the size of halogen bulbs, <br>as grand ma placed one in my hand.<br>Be careful and do what I do baby.<br>the soil around the neck just like she did Vicks <br>when my sinuses were stopped up.<br>I did the same. She smiled. <br>Four weeks to that day,<br>the seasoned bed was bustling with pinks, <br>purples, reds and whites.<br>Grand ma pulled me close to her arthritic knees.<br>Soil is like the hands of God. You put something in it,<br>and it will grow. <br>When the melanoma began to ascend <br>taller than her Impatiens could have ever grown,<br>I imagined them a bouquet of pinks, purples, reds <br>and whites spreading beautifully over grandma’s <br>defenseless body. I remember her casket being <br>lowered into the cooled soil, and wanting to help<br>the two men with shovels fill it up. <br><br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="ygA68684j6c" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/ygA68684j6c/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ygA68684j6c?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="FfbqfU5r1xM" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/FfbqfU5r1xM/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FfbqfU5r1xM?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe></em></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/37712752015-07-09T09:16:05-04:002022-03-03T14:50:26-05:00KAHN'S HIP-HOP TOY BOX<div>What is "Kahn's hip-hop toy box?" Well it's urban, pop toys, hip-hop action figures and vinyl figures that I decided to put in funny, political, and interesting situations. Its really nothing more than toy photography with a hip-hop and urban twist. Big up to my man's Valid for letting me use track "Validation" and "This Music" of your <em>Reach High</em> album.<br><br><a contents="Hip-Hop Toy Box Facebook page" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/Kahns-Hip-Hop-Toy-Box-1021969664509168/?notif_t=page_fan">Hip-Hop Toy Box Facebook page</a><br><br><br><br>Also, to check out the rest of photography from Kahn Santori - go to www.ksantori.com<br><a contents="Instagram Page" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://instagram.com/kahnsantori/">Instagram Page</a><br><a contents="More Kahn Santori Photography" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.ksantori.com">More Kahn Santori Photography</a><br><br><br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="jgeFhJyzA0o" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/jgeFhJyzA0o/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jgeFhJyzA0o?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/523baa632fea34146144a23c8b6d5dee641ba573/original/2015-07-22-9-36-27.jpg?1437572504" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/ab3af9a2fde8f272a9e3222851a04d588e454a97/original/2015-07-22-9-34-07.jpg?1437572500" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/936faab010fedb86cd9929dae055a2598586209b/original/2015-07-22-9-36-59.jpg?1437572508" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/5967416df48628b99dfc09e39a0a7a8df4b70488/original/fullsizerender.jpg?1437398445" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/1ed3819af35e1de9218b8fc991cff0d771bd0ac6/original/fullsizerender2.jpg?1437398445" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><br><img 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src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/5df3e41a7669b51c9479d8fec6a80a00184b797c/original/day-i47.jpg?1436445395" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/5838efa408e646fc09ef463f8f63757934724bc0/original/day-j50.jpg?1436445411" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/569434fca4cf86798c2bddc91f01759829894caa/original/day-j49.jpg?1436445394" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/7ff3a7f5f0cfae3587d91370c86db7dbd7415edd/original/day-j51.jpg?1436445391" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/926ff5fc1924b9f1bf9ac70b9ffe78e08ff5e6a0/original/day-j53.jpg?1436445386" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/0294ecae6a940ac2b8398f7c2b021ff0ba34b2fb/original/day-j52.jpg?1436445382" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img 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src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/030c8497b1783ffe4bbf9b3de55775563aa8b1c7/original/day-l60.jpg?1436445362" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/a550b40d6fec83021458e1111990166c08d458d4/original/day-l62.jpg?1436445359" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/182593dd79d2291f1ca793a120c45f1a432483a8/original/day-l64.jpg?1436445333" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/758e2c5970c34d872d997a14d9a68e7de2812194/original/day-m65.jpg?1436445329" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/ef273bd04f577baab25cb568837c62801d85b9cc/original/day-m66.jpg?1436445323" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/17f602bbd4bf10781a52fa55ef02c0d93a34b35d/original/day-n68.jpg?1436445312" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/b95b11dde9f52afdbd8e0de774c8f885b8772672/original/day-n69.jpg?1436445309" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/a49385e20d4ec5fcdc7e4ab0348913910748578f/original/day-n70.jpg?1436445304" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/5b990b65856930dbe1aa3b286d983ccfa2db58c4/original/day-n71.jpg?1436445303" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/7375c547042dada1311c43833866b2b665a5bbe6/original/day-n72.jpg?1436445297" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/db97485d6f853cb8d4adf9f064bf15b58792dea8/original/day-o73.jpg?1436445294" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/305375fc5f522e13937d852c9daf033a6350f268/original/day-o75.jpg?1436445290" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/2d91ce9abf0024a48d3996e50db378479a722f48/original/day-o74.jpg?1436445303" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/ca01f3a6d4dc80cf46a2d00e61a8febc5e6f3949/original/day-o76.jpg?1436445287" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/53beaeca6fc825a18102df4f3f3cf443d1874694/original/day-o77.jpg?1436445290" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/37189982015-05-28T10:58:47-04:002017-01-11T08:20:33-05:00Parenting to your Strengths<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/932e3179ecf9f623e5728d7c6e3893431c8df4df/medium/parent.jpg?1432825075" class="size_m justify_left border_" /><br>My grandfather had story for every situation & obstacle in life. He constantly used his past experiences to help me (try to) avoid mistakes and guide me. My grandmother never shared many personal stories. Most of her parenting was through the muse of prayer and bible study. My grandfather on the other hand rarely used religious teachings to get his point across to me. For the most part he was a pretty proud Christian, but was also at his best when he used his own familiarities to relate to me. Essentially my grandparents were “parenting to their own individual strengths.” <br> My grandmother acknowledged every little moment and milestone while my grandfather stayed quiet. My grandfather shook, “No,” just as many times as my grandmother smiled, “Yes.” My grandmother constantly preached book sense and my grandfather was more about common sense. They never crossed lanes or mixed messages and I’m pretty sure none of this was planned out – but more of them just parenting and being the people they were.<br> I bring this up because we are in an era where we’re constantly spoon feed articles, sermons, and videos of how to be a better parent this way, how to teach children that way, and how to raise your children this other way. Nothing is wrong with that because being parent is easily the most challenging and sometimes dumbfounding job ever! There is nothing wrong with implementing new ideas and methods. But there is a way to slightly simplify things. There is something to be said by relying on your own personal strengths to raise your kids. There are times when you can just let the “regular you” lead the way instead of implementing traits that don’t come natural.<br> I know for a fact that I’m more my grandfather than my grandmother. As my children have entered the challenges of their teen years; I’ve used my own personal stories, my grandfather’s personal stories, and the stories of others I’ve mentally collected over the years to prove certain points. I feel I’m at my best when I’m challenging them and not pacifying them. They also see a man every day that works hard, that has built a business, that’s not afraid to creatively express himself, and loves their mother dearly. I understand my sarcasm is irritating, my patience isn’t the greatest, and I’m sometimes vague when I shouldn’t and I go on tangents when there is no need. But as I’ve learned our strengths and our weaknesses carry equal value because if you take away some of the weaknesses – you may lose some of the strengths. <br> So don’t be a slave to every new wave parenting advice that comes across your news feed. Sometimes being the best version of you- is good enough.<br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br> <div> </div>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/36091702015-03-18T10:18:05-04:002017-01-11T08:20:33-05:00Entrepreneurship, Damon Dash, Guilt, and Understanding Your Personality <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/584a5305efdd5327f3f18ab512338bdce4663e7a/small/eentrepreneurship.jpg?1426687149" class="size_s justify_left border_" /><br>Damon Dash made quite a buzz on the Breakfast Club when he challenged everyone to be their own boss. Most of what he said was on point but it deeper than just, “not wanting to call another man boss.”<br><br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="iQkhpw5FZac" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/iQkhpw5FZac/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/iQkhpw5FZac?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe><br><br>There are 3 big things I would like everyone to think about here.<br><br>1. Don’t’ feel “guilty” if you aren’t the type to start and run your own business. It doesn’t make you less of a man or a bad example for your children. Millions of people have the mental stamina to push themselves through undergrad, post grad, and PHD programs just to make sure they can reach the highest levels in their preferred careers. That’s something to be proud of. What you can do is make sure you “invest smartly” in local/national businesses and real-estate. “Smart investing” can lead to assets that can be passed down to your children and your children’s children.<br>2. You really have to “know your personality” before you just jump out there into entrepreneur land. For example: I learned very early that I was the kind of person that couldn’t just do things for money not matter how much money it was. <br>I started a photography biz because I was passionate about photography. I Kickstarted a t-shirt line because I was passionate about the message I was trying to convey. However- we are all not the same. I know folks who will take on any business opportunity as long as the profit margin is there. On the other hand I’ve known a few men who’ve started landscaping businesses only to find out they hate landscaping; thus the business failed. You have to know yourself.<br>3. You can do both! I know some super successful entrepreneurs that still contract themselves out to various firms. I know mildly successful entrepreneurs that hold on to part-time jobs and I know full time folks who make more from the business than the day job. It’s “your world” and you can structure in how you want it. Hec; Magic Johnson has millions and millions but still takes time to be a commentator on TNT.<br>4. Lastly- it’s not a damn thing wrong with being a blue collar man/woman. I come from a city (Detroit) where our parents and grandparents worked 30 plus years for the auto motive manufactures. They bought cars, houses, stocks, paid for weddings, college tuitions, and family vacations with their earnings and savings. Some folks started side businesses or jump started businesses for their children. There is still, and will always be a lot of “pride” in that. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/31221702014-08-05T14:09:45-04:002017-01-11T08:20:33-05:00A Glimpse at My Grandparents Marriage <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/f030e904dd575f86277177bc35a51367534de642/medium/scan-103.jpeg?1407262030" class="size_m justify_left border_" />I remember vividly my pop’s words to a friend who tried to console him at my grandmother’s funeral, “It hurt bad having to burry my daughter but losing my wife is different. I’ve never went through anything like this.” <br>Growing up I had the pleasure to see the mechanics of their marriage but I greatly underappreciated how special it was. It was a mixed bag of traditional roles and things that worked uniquely for them.<br>*Pop paid all the bills except for grand ma’s credit cards and the telephone bill.<br>*Grand ma did most of the cleaning except for vacuuming, cleaning the carpet, and hardcore outdoor work.<br>*Grand ma didn’t drive, pop didn’t have to cook, they woke up together, drank coffee together in the a.m. but watched TV separately in the p.m.<br>*There were separate bank accounts, joint bank accounts, and money hidden around the house that they didn’t even tell each other about.<br>* Grand ma made all the decisions when it came to me – and that’s just how it was –lol.<br> <br>I have enough photos to know that the early years of their marriage (40s and 50s) were full of nights spent at jazz clubs, dinner parties, and weekends were spent at parks & family outings. I have photos of the comings & goings to home, work, school, and church.<br> <br>I’m sure they bonded hard after my mother’s murder in 1977. I’m sure the sadness was shared as they leaned on each other for support. I never saw pop buy her roses in a vase but he would bring home a hanging basket of impatiens. Grand ma knew pop was the biggest fan of her cooking and she never let him down. I never heard them argue or disagree on much (in front of me anyways) and I saw pop kiss her at least once day. Their personalities were much more opposite than most people know but they still complimented each other extremely well. Grand ma took her time a lot- when getting ready to go places, when shopping, conversing, and when cooking. That meant Pop had to be the definition of “patience.”<br><br>That was one of the biggest things about marriage I learned from pop. How to have "patience," to always pick your "battles" wisley, and to love a woman for what she is when you married her; not for what you think you can mold her into. He taught me how to love a woman consistently, with not strings attached. How growing old with a woman was a blessing not a jail sentence. How you open a car door for your wife (when she gets out & in), take off you hat when a woman gets on the elevator, and take her wherever she needs to go (lol).<br> <br>One of the saddest things was how pop had to watch her die. He blamed himself for years. He felt he could have done a better job taking care of her during her last days but there was no way; the cancer was just too strong. He loved her so much. Her last words to him were, "Take care of Kahn."<br><br>He did.<br><br> Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/31219252014-08-04T13:15:17-04:002017-01-11T08:20:33-05:00 My Grandfather, Athletes, and Me <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/ce797099543c2c95fe24265cf5aa1b53110446dc/medium/scan-156.jpeg?1407172268" class="size_m justify_left border_" /> To say I wasn’t quite that athletic as a kid is like saying an elephant isn’t quite that big. I wasn’t fast, didn’t have the best coordination, bad hands, and a little on the clumsy side. But hey; I had a lot of heart! Lol My grandfather knew this which is why my participation in sports was viewed as a recreational outlet at best. <br> Fast forward 20 years and now I’m an AAU dad whose 15 year-old and 11 year-old sons have more athletic ability than I could have ever dreamed of. I talk to the dads of the top-tier athletes a well as the dads of the end-of-the-bench kids. Many of the conversations are the same. I hear about hired personal trainers, hired strength & condition coaches, private agility & speed training, and a never ending array of skills camps, leagues, and videos. I always walk away from the conversations thinking the same thing- “Damn, I’m happy my grandfather never invested this kind of money and time in my athletic aspirations!” <br> I’m sure if I would have shown any natural skill at any sport my grandfather would have tried to push it along. But I didn’t; so the emphasis was school. But what if my grandfather wasn’t like that? What if he was one of those dads determined to make their awkward sons into a college bound athletes? What if he spent the thousands of dollars saved for me to go to college on football personal trainers? What if my hours spent with math tutors were traded for speed and agility classes? What if he was more “coach” than “dad?” <br> Nothing he could have done would have changed the outcome of my life (which I’m happy with). But it could have strained our relationship or limited our financial flexibility. I’m not saying that any of those are dads are wrong; I’m saying there’s a lot to take into consideration because “heart” & “will” can only get you so far. Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/30614942014-07-07T14:55:06-04:002017-01-11T08:20:33-05:00Hip-Hop, Parenting, Grand Ma, 1986 to 2014<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/720a914dcd03b25353e8700eb0bdc8bca3710932/medium/baby-tattoo.jpg?1404759230" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /><br> It’s hard to believe that in 1986 my grandmother found my RUN DMC Raising Hell tape, threw it away, and grounded me. She was a Christian and anything titled <em>Raising Hell</em> haaad to be bad. I remember several months later she walked in on me listening to EPMD and said, “I don’t know what they’re saying, but it all sounds bad.” I was 10 years old then. A time when hip-hop songs only came on the radio weekends after 8pm, a time when I would have a blank cassette paused in my Sanyo boom-box so I could record the songs off the radio, and a time when RUND DMC was considered “hardcore.” Wow how times have changed!<br> Let’s fast-forward 25 years and now I’m the parent. 2 daughters who listen to pop and 15 year-old & 11 year-old sons who love hip-hop. The 15 year-old is like me: his tastes are diverse. He likes Kendrick Lamar, Drake, ASAP Rocky, takes Biggie over ‘Pac, embraces N.W.A., not feeling Lil Wayne anymore, appreciates Em, Dre, but hates Lil John. He can talk beats and rhymes for hours. We allow him to listen to music with profanity & questionable lyrics. He’s smart; he knows the difference between real & fake, he understands hardcore, posturing, and cowardness. There are certain artists he listens to in the a.m. before school and other artists that are reserved for pregame hype music.<br> I trust him and I can’t be a hypocrite. He’s knows I still listen to Mac10 in the weight room and Coltrane in the library. He hears The Roots in the car, but Volume 10 during cardio. We both “understand.”<br> This is not the case with my 11-year old. He’s much more impressionable. He likes what his dad and his brother likes. So I try and keep FM radio off in the car and his brother’s music turned low. He’s still learning what he should and shouldn’t say, that some artists are strictly gansta’ in studio only, and there is no need to jump on the bandwagon of every piece of slang you hear in a rap song. I know he’s still going to hear things because hip-hop songs (good and bad) are the background of several popular video games. We talk about it but he’s an 11 year-old being an 11 year-old. <br> I’m not my grandmother and this isn’t 1986. The more maturity my children show towards how they can interpret the complexities of life – the more room/freedom I give them to make their own choices. Music is a thousand times more accessible now than it ever was and more "understating” will go further than constant “policing.”<br> <br> Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/30443142014-06-27T14:06:53-04:002017-01-11T08:20:33-05:00Saying, “No Thank You,” Grand Ma, and Integrity<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/22a9205edc6a290eeeab828a64359e6c16825e8f/medium/scan-105.jpeg?1403892378" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>Growing up; once a month or so Mr. Martin would come by and check on his house and children next door to us. He owned the 3 bedroom colonial but allowed his adult children to stay there. He would pull up in his long Cadillac, visit all the neighbors, stop the ice-cream truck, and buy ice-cream for every kid who happened to be outside; except for me. My grandparents never allowed me to accept ice-cream from Mr. Martin (though they did like him a lot). <br>As I got a little older (11 years-old maybe), I would get invited to movies, birthday parties, and other outings. My grandmother always gave me my own money for the outing and if I was to be offered anything outside or over the money I was given- I was to say, “Thank you but, no thank you ma’am/sir.” And she was serious about this. <br>1. We weren’t poor. <br>2. She/we had a lot of pride.<br> <br>And most importantly: she never, ever, wanted me to get comfortable accepting handouts. She wanted me to understand that just because something is offered – doesn’t mean you have to accept it. She never, ever, wanted me to get content asking other people’s parents for things that she could buy me herself and that I wasn’t needy. She never wanted to me obtain a sense of entitlement; just because someone else was getting something that I wasn’t. She wanted me to appreciate things and people. She wanted me to learn that it takes manners and humility to turn down things sometimes. She wanted to convey that “gifts” were for birthdays and holidays. She wanted me to understand you can appreciate the generosity of someone else while still turning down what they are offering. Lastly; she wanted me to understand when living a life full of integrity and honor – you will turn down much more than you will allow yourself to receive.<br> <br>I’m writing and dwelling on this one because I’m having a tough time implementing this mind-state to my own children. I never questioned my grandmother; I just did what she said. My children aren’t quite like that. Lol But these are values I sincerely believe more of our youth need to understand and I’m making it a point to start in my own home first.<br><br> Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/30402762014-06-25T16:21:06-04:002017-01-11T08:20:32-05:00African-American Nutrition and Disease - Where is the Leadership?<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/04077a925ec47606ff7f49c6d0baacbf4e5a886b/medium/black-doctor.jpg?1403727422" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br> The June 23, 2014 Time cover story says “Eat Butter”- Scientists labeled fat the enemy. Why they were wrong.” Though this is being presented as a new concept; it’s actually been discussed, lectured and written about by cardiologist Dr. William Davis, journalist Gary Taubes, Peter Attia, radio show host Carl Lenore, and a host of other rouge & underground nutritionists and homeopathic doctors. The premise is simple to explain: America’s reliance on carbohydrates, wheat, and sugar while blaming fat as the culprit was 100 percent wrong. The Native American population figured this our years ago.<br><br> During the 1830s and 1840s; Native American tribes were relocated to reservations under the Indian Removal Act and treaty. In 1890, the American government disallowed Native Americas to hunt or gather on their usual grounds. In substitute –they were introduced to the Western diet: grains, processed meats, high sugar, omega 6 fats, and very little of the nutrients they were used too.<br> <br> Fast forward 100 years later and the result is horrific<br>* American Indian and Alaska Native adults are 1.6 times more likely to be obese than whites, (Office of Minority Health.)<br>* Almost 33 percent of all American Indians and Alaskan Natives are overweight, (Office of Minority Health.)<br>*16.1 percent of Native Americans and Alaskan Natives suffer from Type II diabetes, (American Diabetes Association).<br> <br> The question here is simple. Where is the African American medical professional leadership in regards to this issue? It’s become more and more of a possibility that the Western diet is not suited for Africans Americans? Dr. Ben Carson likes speaking on socials issues. How does he feel about this? What about Dr. Charles Modlin who founded a Minority Men’s Health Center? What are his views? There are many great and prominent African American professionals that who’ve done great work in the community and in their profession. However; we’re still dying to disease faster than our Caucasian counterparts (the numbers are below).<br> <br> My mission is not to start a blame game. My goal is to stir the pot, invoke conversation, and ultimately come up with some answers.<br><em> -Before age 50, African-American's heart failure rate is 20 times higher than that of whites (New England Journal of Medicine 2005)</em><br><em>-63 percent of African-American men and 77 percent of African-American women are overweight or obese. (American Heart Association 2013)</em><br><em>-African-Americans are nearly twice as likely to have diabetes than whites. (American Heart association 2013).</em><br><em>-Lung cancer was 36 percent more common in African American men than in Caucasian men. (Centers for Disease Control 2001-2005)</em><br><em>-Colorectal cancer is 20% higher and mortality rates are about 45% higher in African-americans.(American Caner Society 2011-2013)</em><br><em>-Prostate cancer rates are two-thirds higher in African-american men than whites. (National Caner institute)</em><br><em>-African American adults are twice as likely than non-Hispanic white adults to have been diagnosed with diabetes by a physician. (Office of Minority Health 2013)</em><br><em>-African American adults are 1.6 times as likely than their White adult counterparts to have a stroke (Office of Minority Health).</em><br><em>-African-Americans have a slightly higher risk of Alzheimer's disease than people of largely European ancestry. (The Journal of American Medical Association 2013) </em><br><br><br><br><br> Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/28227622014-03-27T11:09:20-04:002017-01-11T08:20:32-05:00Growing up in Detroit Pt. 1 Middle Eastern, Black, Hispanic, White, and Understanding Race Through Experiences <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/a6b3ab95ff073fcddb37385c4302b9a30dfd9f7c/medium/hastac-forum-pic.jpg?1395932769" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br> To say I grew up “sheltered” would be like saying an elephant is just a “little’ heavy. My first 17 years on earth featured 10 grades of Catholic School, no riding my bike past the corner, streetlight curfews, more home cooked meals than B. King crowns, and a community of neighbors and friends to make sure I stayed in my lane. It was understandable; my parents had died and my safety and future was taken very seriously. <br> I was also sheltered as it related to my interactions with non-blacks. From kindergarten through high school the only white people I knew were teachers and the only other nationality I saw on a regular basis were the Middle Eastern decent men that owned liquor stores, gas stations and coney islands in Detroit. I’m not saying this as if it were good or bad – just the reality of my up-bringing.<br> Enter 1995; I was 19 and began working in Dearborn, Michigan. The majority of my managers were white but most of my coworkers were black, Middle Eastern and Hispanic. This was the first time I was actually able to engage in daily communication with other minorities.<br>The first thing that shocked me was how many shared interests I had the Middle Eastern cats my age. We all liked hip-hop music, fast cars, and girls with big asses. We smoked Black & Milds, talked sports, money, and car audio. These men were not the same as their grandfathers that followed me around the gas station in search for a peach Faygo. They weren’t the same as their uncles that told me, “No reading the magazines in the store!” as I browsed the pages of a <em>Word Up</em> magazine. No; these cats were way different. I was introduced to humus, shawarmas, and falafels. I learned that not all Middle Eastern people were Muslims and every Middle Eastern person is not from Iraq. Within a short period of time most of the stereotypes I learned were corrected and my understanding of Middle Eastern folks and human beings in general had been enhanced.<br> This was also the same time period when I made my only attempt to court a girl outside of my race. She was Mexican and again; she showed me Hispanic culture was deeper than Taco Bell, <em>Colors</em>, and Cinco De Mayo. Our dates were typical; movies, parks, and burgers. In many ways we were just 2 young people experimenting but there were issues. First she made it very clear that it would not be a good idea for me to be seen picking her up or taking her home. She told me her parents believed every negative stereotype about black dudes and it would take her a while to smooth this over with them. So I usually picked her up from a friend’s house and dropped her off a few houses away from her house. The next awkward situation came when we decided to go to the mall together. She was babysitting her 8 month old niece and she went with us as well. This proved to be a very uncomfortable experience for both of us. As we walked through the mall, people blatantly stared at us. They obviously thought her niece was our baby and we were a family. I’ve never gotten that many mean looks from black women before in my life. I felt like I was walking though the mall holding hands with Paula Dean! A few weeks later we had a heart to heart talk and her exact words were; “What’s the point? This will never be more than what it is so before we get all caught up; let’s just go our separate ways.” I agreed (though I was a bit more optimistic than she was). A few weeks later my grandfather had inquired about her. I told him we weren’t seeing each other anymore and let out an exhale of relief and said, “I’m glad you’re not seeing her anymore because the ese’s were going to kill you!”<br> Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/25141652014-02-03T15:42:15-05:002018-05-22T10:27:40-04:00White Pastor, Mixed Church, Malcom, Martin, & Mixed Results<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/cec8336dbc1de4fcb386e5fb60ab7f25cb2c1a94/medium/church.jpg?1391460017" class="size_m justify_left border_" /><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>I‘m almost certain that when my grandparents went looking for a church home in the late 1950s - it wasn’t a complicated process. They probably visited a couple of churches that were walking distance or a short drive away. I’m sure they took into account the message, warmth of the congregation, and the overall “feel” of the church when it came to making their decision. <br>Fast forward 60 plus years and looking for a church home is more comparable to looking for a new house. There are 100 things you’re looking to feel/see and more you hope you don’t feel or see. Also; you have to take into account that more black folks live in racially diverse neighborhoods or all white neighborhoods and this ultimately adds another layer to the process of picking out a church home. <br><br>The racial element cannot be overstated. For many years in America Sunday was the most segregated day of the week. Black and white Christians worshiping together is a relatively new phenomenon for many of us. So far (for me) the experience at the new church has been fair and insightful but I do get “irked” here and there which prompted the writing of this blog.<br><br>The sermon this past weekend focused on, “Doing/believing what the bible says and not what you want (even if it’s political correct).” This meant a “No” to gay marriage, cohabitation before marriage, and “No” to a few other things. What alarmed me was towards the end of the sermon; the pastor brought up Martin Luther King and Malcom X. The pastor said his daughter was writing a paper on the 2 civil rights icons and she asked him; “Who was right?” He said, “Well one has a holiday named after him and the other one doesn’t” (to answer her question). That got under my skin because I felt it disrespected Martin and Malcom.<br><br>I can guarantee you that if you have unfavorable views towards Malcom X; you probably don‘t know his story cover to cover. It’s 2 million times deeper than his criminal youth. It’s 2 billion times heavier than the “by any means necessary” sound bites recycled in media clips over and over and over again. There is nothing wrong with giving an opinion - but when you’re an orator, a leader over a group of people, or pastor of a congregation: you owe it to them to make sure your opinion is based on the whole history of a man, not partial. The same applies for Martin. He’s much more than a Monday off work and an “I have a dream” speech. Read his writings and speeches that preluded his death. Like Malcom; he was a work in progress. Lastly; it was and is never about Malcom vs. Martin. There was/is never a need to pit them against each other. They agreed on a lot more than most people think they did.<br><br>I understand that a black pastor might have felt the same way and might have even expressed himself the same. I don’t believe the pastor is racist at all but I believe the pastor’s comments were irresponsible and shouldn’t have been said.<br><br>That also wasn’t the first time he got under my skin. The first time was his Independence Day sermon. It was about reclaiming America’s values. The pastor cited and gave credence to the founding fathers of America (starting in 1620) for establishing Christian morals. He stated America needs to look back at that foundation while moving into its future. The sermon went on it to highlight how America has always proclaimed to be a Christina nation, that there are several bible verses on public buildings in D.C. and Pilly. He said America is currently in a moral abyss.<br><br>While I get his point; I have never been a fan of people that overly romanticize America’s history with a broad brush without citing some of its flaws. What may have been wonderful for you and your ancestors might not have been so great for others of different races and genders. Many years went by in this country in which women couldn’t vote. Until the last 40 or so years – a man could beat the hell out of his wife and it was considered “his business.” The plights and massacres of Native Americans and blacks have been well documented. Again; when in a spiritual leadership position – the backgrounds of all people need to be taken into consideration. You can’t treat America like the eulogy at Uncle Harry’s funeral and talk about all the great things he’s done without some of the flaws. It doesn’t work like that. Not when the point of the sermon is that America was a better America 1619-1930 than it is now. I can assure you that you would be hard pressed to find any black person that wants to go back and life in that time period.<br><br>Now I may be overly analytical. Some may say my gripes are meaningless and not race related. Others may say I’m looking too deeply in to things and maybe it’s just me. You could say that the standards I’m holding the pastor to are too high. All that is fair as I’m willing to accept whatever criticism that comes from this blog - negative or positive.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/23982682014-01-14T16:00:50-05:002019-10-08T07:46:09-04:00 Rusty Barbell/Loss/Passing/Fight& Endurance<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/21cbd40b6fae8466cfbda17af65691ca8cb4875b/medium/barbell.jpg?1389733045" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>Sometimes when you run into old acquaintances after a long absence; their appearance tells the story before their words do. Today I ran into Steven. A twentysometing year-old cat I used to share small talk with at the gym. He looked awesome; as if he never missed a day at the gym when in reality he hadn’t been in over a year because of money issues. <br>After the typical hand slaps and greetings were exchanged; he opened up about being separated from his wife, the problems he was having seeing his son, moving out of his house and into an apartment, and the passing of his father. Though you couldn’t tell it by looking at him- Steven had a pretty horrible 2013.<br> <br>When we got on the topic of working- out he told me all he had was one barbell and 4 forty-five pound plates (no bench). The weights were his father’s that he found cleaning out his garage. They were old and rusted. He said he used them every day: arm-curls, deadlifts, bench -press off the floor, squats, barbell rows, plate raises, farmer walks, weighted lunges, skull crushers, and one arm t-bar rows. He said he never misses a workout and had to learn to love the uncomfortable solitude of working out in a small studio apartment. He said the love for his son and memory of his father drives him. As we parted had told me he wasn’t sure when he would be able to afford his gym membership again but assured me he was blessed and the next time we would run into each other – he was going to be in a better place.<br> <br>There was so much I took away from this encounter. The fact he was going through so much and was making it a “point” to work out. The fact that his father’s barbell was his comfort, his hope, and his fight. Just based on his tone, I assume the barbell is almost the same size of his apartment. I think working out now means more to him than it ever did.<br> <br>If he would have told me he was going to get back in the gym after his life got more stable – I wouldn’t have thought anything of it.<br> <br>What would you have done? If the walls of your life fell down around you and all you had left was a rusted barbell? Would you trip over it? Throw it out? Or lift it?<br> Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/23078062013-12-31T09:20:40-05:002017-01-11T08:20:32-05:00New Creativity, New Venture, New Road-<span class="font_regular">New creativity, new venture, new road.<br><br>Looking back; I remember being 12 years-old writing poems in the back of math notebooks, 14 years -old using a GE Boombox, a Radio Shack mixer, and a cheap turntable to record my on raps. I worked to navigate my way to and through the fields of journalism, stage & page poetics, and wedding photography. and Finally: there was the task of resculpting and reshaping my physique after being overweight for about 7 years , All I have ever wanted to do was create. Thats it. Thats what I live to do.<br><br>Thus a new project is born - www.primalimmortality.com<br><br>Primal Immortality is a T-Shirt company for creative professionals, artists of all genres, fitness enthusiasts, and goal oriented seeking individuals. Its also the hub of my 2 photo series “Got Film?” and “Sonic Boom: A Photographic Study in Old School Hip-Hop Technology. I basically put all the things I love together under one roof. lol <br><br>www.primalimmortality.com<br><br>So click the link, LIKE the FB page, watch the videos, follow me on Twitter and spread <br>the word. Your support is crucial to the success of this venture.<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/d52c08eb4c8a04663439ed98ce106ab6a8e846ea/original/primal-photo-gallery12.jpg?1388457615" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/8c685e27acb36e88736831fd3c928c86373be249/original/primal-photo-gallery2-dup.jpg?1388457587" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/20102502013-11-08T06:52:10-05:002017-01-11T08:20:32-05:00Our Anniversary, Your Birthday, and My Rant.<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/9bfa511d09aeb771fedfd5bb32994cbcd8323114/medium/kahn-and-tash017.jpg?1383872192" class="size_m justify_center border_" /><br><br><span class="font_regular"> Ok wifey, we are here again. Your birthday and our anniversary and I'm left stitching words together hoping they make sense. Hoping that they can somehow justify how I feel. So instead of writing a poem, letter, or something fancy. I'm just going to “rant” it out; and pray you can make sense out some of it.</span>
<p><span class="font_regular"> I don't how it works in other marriages but this husband still daydreams about making love to you as if I've never made love to you before. As if you're making me wait to make sure that I'm the “one” lol. I get excited when I know you're about to get out the shower and freaking insane when we get to schedule one of our Motor City Casino Hotel outings. You are Krazy glue holding together emotional and mental parts of me that I'm sure you didn't know you reached. You are so much more than my backbone- you are my fucking esophagus. You frustrate me like no other. I have to love you because if I didn't; I wouldn't give a damn that you frustrate me. I hate your opinion; mostly because you're right. You're right very often and that frustrates me. I'm your husband. I only want you to be right when you are agreeing with me. Lol But the times you are right, are the times that I need you to be right and that shit is priceless. I love you for that. I know a good wife is supposed to be her husband's rock, but this is ridiculous. You are my boulder. I almost feel guilty as if I'm getting too much out the deal and not giving enough (notice I said almost-lol). I wouldn't be the parent I am without you. I wouldn’t be the man I am without you. You support me when you don't even understand me half the time. You look after me even when you want to kill me half the time. You are my hot-n-ready. If its one second left on the shot clock– you're taking my last shot. If its fourth and goal – you're my Calvin Johnson. I don't even count years any more; I just know I want them to keep coming. I just know I want us to keep going. Where I'm at is where I want to be. Despite what I say in the mist of a argument – I want you to stay who you are. You are my favorite record, my best friend, my creatine, my pack of fudge striped cookies all rolled up into one. My blanket, my grand ma's Inpatients, my super fluffy pillow, the tattoo on the inside, the drizzle I lick off my lips, the ultimate body glove, wine and symphony, Hennessy and sonnets – you are the novel I always wanted to write but never could figure out ways to get the words out. I fucking love you Latasha Davison.</span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="font_regular">Okay, this rant is over. I'm not even going to proof read this. Raw, passionate, confusing and all heart – just like us baby. Just like us.</span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="font_regular">Happy anniversary and happy birthday</span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/20061472013-11-07T10:30:54-05:002017-01-11T08:20:32-05:00Bullying, Being Broken, Makes Me Want to Holler<br><br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/5010b87857227e282bfcf2d41cfa5137b782357e/medium/blly-3.jpg?1383838162" class="size_m justify_center border_" /><p> </p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">By now the bullying situation between Jonathan Martin and Richie Incognito of the Miami Dolphins has sparked an endless amount of conversations and debates. But the very first time I heard the story, I thought of a book I read when I was 22 years old. It was Nathan McCall's “Makes me want to Holler.” The book was a memoir of the author's life and one of the main underlying tones of the book was about “being mentally broken/weak.”</p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The author gave several types of examples of individuals that were all mentally broken down over time.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">-There was a big strong inmate named Tooty; that the author was locked up in prison with. He was taunted, harassed over a period of weeks and months until he became somebody's boy-toy. They basically catcalled him, called him a bitch, called him a girl 'till he stopped seeing himself as a man anymore. Sad but true.</p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">-Then the author told the story of his fellow journalists, Cassandra and Michael. Both were up and coming African-American reporters. Both faced racially motivated double standards from their bosses that resulted in both questioned their talent level at their careers. Both individuals ended up quitting.</p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">More times than not – just trying to make it though life itself will make you question many things.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Am I a good enough worker?</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Am I a good enough husband?</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Am I a good enough father?</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Am I trying hard enough?</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Maybe I'm just not good enough.</p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Now if you add a coworker, a boss, a teammate, or a spouse constantly telling you “you're not good enough” - it can make overcoming those mental challenges a lot more harder. If you have a history of depression, anxiety etc.. than this will also make overcoming those mental challenges harder.</p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Like the saying goes; “If you tell someone they ain't shit enough times: they just might start to believe you.”</p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Luckily for me I learned very early in life that the only thing that mattered to me was “passion.” I knew at certain jobs I wasn't doing good because I didn't give a damn and it didn't matter how much my boss or manger dogged me. I have also had limited success in various things that I've had a passion for but never hung my head about “not being that good” because I promised myself that if i'm doing what I want to do – there is no way and no one that I will let ruin it for me.</p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I have just as my doubts in my personal life as anyone else. I see more faults in the mirror than assets. I have had just as many naysayers and haters as the next man.</p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I also understand that its okay to bend. Its tough not to break. And if you do break-it doesn't mean you have to stay that way.</p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Now I could be wrong at how I think this relates to Martin/Incognito situation. But I honestly feel that Martin was breaking. He held up the facade for as long as he could but in end. He was Tooty, he was Cassandra, he was Michael.</p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I'm not judging him and neither should you.</p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/18552192013-10-15T09:49:06-04:002017-01-11T08:20:32-05:00Domestic Violence in Review and Perspective<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/15e84eb6e0f293d19a59b54da79c536dbc72038c/original/domestic-violence-hurts-everyone.png?1381839417" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><br>If you know me or have read any of my earlier blog posts than you already know domestic violence has affected my life. I lost both parents to a domestic violence situation that has never been officially comprehended. But this not solely about me - lets look a layer deeper into domestic violence in this society. <br>Historical Perspective<br> <br>For hundreds of years in western culture; most cities/states and law makers refused to properly acknowledge domestic violence. You could start as recent as 1920 through the 1960s and domestic violence didn’t have a real face or movement. Though there has always been assault & battery laws; how a man conducted his business with his wife in his household was largely considered “his business.” I remember Chris Gardner’s “The Pursuit of Happyness” biography (the book the Will Smith movie was based off of). He wrote in detail how his step-father beat his mother, and would chase her around town beating her all the way back home. No one called police, a social worker, or reached out to her; it just wasn’t in the culture back then. A lot of us have elder family members who grew up in these types of environments.<br> <br>I’m not bringing this up to justify anything. I’m bringing this up to get people to understand that domestic violence is not “new.” It’s something that’s been stitched into the dna of our culture many times over. It’s not solely about reversing the actions of a few men or women with anger management issues. It’s not about being “Bipolar.” It’s about defining and redefining our roles as men and women, our labels as husbands and wives. It’s more to do with the expectations and perspective society has created for us versus the expectations and introspection that we can find within ourselves. It’s about some of us who have a need for power and a desire to control. And some of us who don’t understand or can’t find a way to break out from being overpowered or mentally controlled.<br> <br>We are all made up like a huge beautiful lawn full of potential. We have areas that need new sod, areas that need more water, areas that need more sun, and areas that can get by with a little grass patch. But if you never acknowledge who you are, what you are, what can make you better, and what you want to become - than you will never grow. And without growth – you will stay being defined by your weakest link. Whether you are a perpetrator of violence (domestic or otherwise) or a victim. <br> <br>You have to rise above.<br> <br> Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/18159312013-10-09T08:39:12-04:002017-01-11T08:20:32-05:00Goal Setting, October, and Keep Going<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/195f68fe3d3f772abfd7bc514dd05bca02adfbff/original/url.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><br>It’s October! The month of “Indian Summer,” burnt orange leaves, apple cider, hay rides, pumpkins, costumes, haunted houses, and candy corn. It’s also the 10th month of the year; which means you have 3 months to complete your 2013 goals. <br> <br>Did you attain them already? Have you even started yet? How far are you? Did you get frustrated and walk away? Chalk it up as a loss? Do you even remember what your 2013 goals were?<br> If you really don’t want to answer any of the above – then don’t. Who cares anyway! The most beautiful thing about goals is they aren’t as time conscious as you think. You don’t have wait until next year to start working towards your goal: you can start right now! If you’ve become stagnate and it’s obvious you won’t reach your finish line by the end of the year – that’s fine; just keep progressing. So what you told yourself you would lose 20 pounds this year. So what the business is not up and running yet. Who cares if there is still one more class needed for the degree? None of this means you’re a failure; it just means you have to keep going.<br><br> Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not here to encourage procrastination or downplay deadlines. Some people “need” the fire of a deadline up under them to keep them going. However; others will completely throw in the towel is the goal is not attained by the projected deadline. That’s usually when I hear lines like; “Oh well, I’ll try it again next year,” and “I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”<br><br> <br>This blog post is not here to dog anybody – but here to build everyone back up. If you have an ambition you’re waiting to embark on next year – than start right now. If you’ve given up on the goals you set in January – well pick it back up. Don’t let the parameters of “time” suffocate you. Do let loose your confidence. Don’t overly question yourself. Don’t give up.<br> Most of the goals that I’ve never completed didn’t get finished because I was rushing to complete them. Moving a crazy speeds as if I had only been given a year to live. I’ve often had to spend a lot of time cleaning up the mistakes I’ve made in accomplishing my goals rather than celebrating the actual “completion” of the goal.<br><br> So this is just a reminder to let go and live. Enjoy the progress and don’t be a prisoner of a self-imposed deadline. All you have to do is “keep going.”<br> Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/14908842013-08-27T06:11:05-04:002017-01-11T08:20:32-05:00Why African-Americans Should Care about The War Against GMO Food<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/7a4e968253b0a965793406c0daaed81a5d019b11/original/gmo1-3.jpeg?1377524068" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="168" width="300" /><br><br><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>I’m going to keep this simple and short.</b></i></span>
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The problem:</b> GMO Foods</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>What are GMO Foods:</b> foods produced from genetically modified organisms. They have had specific changes introduced into their DNA via chemical, radiation, and mutation engineering techniques. </span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>In Layman’s terms</b>- its corn, wheat, veggies and fruit (etc..) that have been zapped or injected with weird shit to make it grow faster, more abundant, and look good. However nothing good happens when you mess with Mother Nature. God made everything perfect. When food is genetically changed- it’s not the same. If you have a glass of water and put a Kool-aid packet in it; it’s not water anymore right? When you take corns seeds and zap them with radiation – it’s not the same either!</span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Why should you care?</b></span><b></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>-Before age 50, African-American's heart failure rate is 20 times higher than that of whites (New England Journal of Medicine 2005)</i></span><i></i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>-63 percent of African-American men and 77 percent of African-American women are overweight or obese. (American Heart Association 2013)</i></span><i></i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>-African-Americans are nearly twice as likely to have diabetes than whites. (American Heart association 2013).</i></span><i></i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>-Lung cancer was 36 percent more common in African American men than in Caucasian men. (Centers for Disease Control 2001-2005)</i></span><i></i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>-Colorectal cancer is 20% higher and mortality rates are about 45% higher in African-Americans.(American Caner Society 2011-2013)</i></span><i></i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>-Prostate cancer rates are two-thirds higher in African-American men than whites. (National Caner institute)</i></span><i></i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>-African American adults are twice as likely than non-Hispanic white adults to have been diagnosed with diabetes by a physician. (Office of Minority Health 2013)</i></span><i></i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>-African American adults are 1.6 times as likely than their White adult counterparts to have a stroke (Office of Minority Health).</i></span><i></i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>-African-Americans have a slightly higher risk of Alzheimer's disease than people of largely European ancestry. (The Journal of American Medical Association 2013) </i></span><i></i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i> </i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i> </i></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The Problem and the Solution</b> is the same thing: FOOD. It’s not poverty, it’s not the health care system- it’s the food, food, food. You put the right things in your body – and your body will respond the right way. You put food in your body that has been freaked out in a lab – your body won’t react correctly. You may not grow horns and a tail but you will become more susceptible to Cancer, viruses, and an array of other ailments.</span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>What can you do</b>? Support “Anti-GMO” causes and when shopping – look for “NO GMO” labeled foods. </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Love your life<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/38ccc7899719af0bc4495c1a7f0634d6c9ad13e7/thumb/gmo-3.jpeg?1377524068" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="90" width="125" /><br><br><br></span></b></i></u></p><p></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/14029342013-08-14T06:59:44-04:002017-01-11T08:20:31-05:00Rejection, Book Deals, Photography, and Dreams Deferred <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/cb3d1e0f00103df6abc8a2916dd48a18cb4def78/original/reject.jpg?1376500258" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="176" width="258" /><br>
<br><p class="MsoNormal">On August 15,2008; I saw the email pop up in my inbox, closed my eyes, said a little prayer, then clicked the open button and it went all downhill from there.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>“Dear Kahn,</i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>After all this time, I'm afraid that I am writing with the disappointing news that we have decided to pass on your poetry collection. Ultimately, poetry is a hard sell in the marketplace and this feels too limited in its audience to really break out commercially. You have been more than patient with us and I'm truly sorry that I can't reward that patience at> this time. I wish you every success with the project. </i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Regrets and best wishes”</i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My first thought? “Them jokers held onto my manuscript for 2 years and came back with that bullshit!” lol Because sometimes; rejection can pierce the soul. It can feel like 20 thousand toothpicks being jammed into your gut. Like a staple gun to the back of the neck. I’ve been turned down by prospective clients and other possible ventures but nothing has ever stung like that email.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Starting in 1995; my self-identity, interest, and entrepreneurial aspirations were all “writer” driven. I had aced every Comp/English class in college, I had self-published 3 books (sold maybe 100 copies of each out my car), traveled and competed in poetry slams, freelanced for a few local papers/magazines, taught poetry and creative writing workshops, threw essays and poetry contest for kids, put out 2 poetry CDs, spoke at colleges, and published essays and poems in various journals. None of these were “over-the-top” accomplishments but rather a trail of progress. Every poem, story, article, class, and lecture was a tiny footprint in my journey as a writer. The publication on my manuscript would have served as an apex at that point.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The rug was pulled from up under me that day in August. I put my manuscript in a folder, put down my pen, and threw myself into my other love – photography. Now I can tell you that wound up being great for my business, and I can bullshit you and say I turned a negative into a positive because after all; 2008 and beyond I saw my photo biz double and triple. Now that’s great and all but “writing” was the rack I hung my hat and coat on. “Writing” is something I have always felt I was born to do and it came natural to me whereas photography was more organic; it didn’t come natural, and it was a much harder craft for me to learn.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It took two years for me to write another poem, look at that manuscript, and start another manuscript. As a friend of mine said, <i>“Kahn; before I left town you were the writer who took pictures, now it seems that most people don’t even know you write!”</i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The point here is that I let “rejection,” I let that email throw water on my fire to write. I let that email take away a lot of my drive; and because I had another passion – it made it easier. If I was going to pursue photography more than writing; I would have rather done it on my own terms.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m no different than the person that didn’t get the promotion so he stops applying himself. The kid who didn’t’ win a starting roster spot so his effort falls off. The bodybuilder who loses a competition and never walks into a gym again. The man who’s girlfriend declines his proposal and he never proposes to another woman again. The college student who changes majors after 1 bad grade. The entrepreneur who gave up trying to start his business because he got turned down for 1 loan. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And that’s the point here. We all have been there and some of us are still there. Some of us have let go passions because of rejection. Yesterday’s blog post was about not progressing because you are too comfortable with your situation – but his is not moving forward because you never got over the sting of refutation. If you’re going to defer your dreams; do it own your own-lol. Don’t give someone or something that much control/credit.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I remember I used to go to BoMac’s Jazz lounge (now closed). One Thursday there was an old guy there tearing the keys up! He was a retired mail carrier and he said he hadn’t touched a piano in 35 years until that night. Said he auditioned for Motown back in the 60s, wanted to be in the rhythm section, one of the Funk Brothers. They turned him down. He walked away from the piano cold turkey.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What could have been? What could have been? What could have been?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love Your Life</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/13935432013-08-13T07:15:49-04:002017-01-11T08:20:31-05:00Rental Houses, Comforts, Vices, & Letting go to Pursue <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/915f74aac51ff55976e3dad4aee122e7c3b781c8/thumb/house.jpg?1376408676" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="106" width="125" /><br><br>
Back in 2005 my wife and I decided to jump into the wonderful and stressful world of owning rental property. Our first property: a 2-family flat with no work needed and already occupied with tenants seemed like a decent/conservative investment for our first time out.
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The tenant on the bottom flat was named Dianne. She lived there with her 3 children, husband, and her rent was covered by the government’s Section-8 Housing Program. She was nice, sneaky, friendly and conniving all at the same time. Her portion of rent was less than 100 dollars and it seemed there was always a reason, trade-off, or excuse which she felt rent shouldn’t be owed for that month.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In a rare instance of candid conversation she told me that she had been on government assisted housing for over 25 years. All the hours at her job were kept low so it wouldn’t interfere with her Section-8 and her husband (who technically wasn’t supposed to live there) did odd jobs for cash only. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It occurred to me that her whole life (from a financial perspective) was built around keeping her “Section 8”going. “What a handicapped way to live?” I thought.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Over the years we’ve rented to some with the exact same mind state as Dianne as well as those with the opposite. I’m not writing this to make fun of Dianne or contrast to her myself but; I would like to “compare” her to all of us. All of us have “vices” that masquerade themselves as “comforts” that we refuse to let go of and find ourselves building our lives around. That’s what Section 8 was to Dianne – it was a vice, it was comfort. Her rent was paid every month and that was too comfortable to let go of even if it meant not pursing a better way of life. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It also could be a person that is dieting to loose weight but has built her whole diet around keeping ice-cream in the diet because that’s her “comfort” food when in reality the ice-cream is what’s hindering her weight loss goals.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The unhappy spouse who refuses to leave her partner/mate/live-in because that person is taking care of them financially and they don’t want to have that burden. Thus the spouse plays the same role as “Section 8” did with Dianne.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The man who is sitting on million dollar dreams but is afraid to cash them in because he’s terrified of quitting his job and starting all over.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The neighborhood kid who doesn’t want to go away to college because he wants to be close to his old friends from the “neighborhood.”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I remember not wanting to move out my house in the city because I had been there my whole life and it was my ultimate security/comfort blanket. It was so comfortable that I was blinded by how moving into a bigger house and nicer area would be good for business and family until I actually DID IT!</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That sense of comfort is strong. The sense of “just not having to worry about certain things” can be hard to walk away from. But you gotta’ have dreams? Are your dreams worthy of leaving a sense of comfort and consistency (at least temporarily)? </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I remember going on a date with a very smart and cute young woman when I was about 21. She lived on a poor side of town in a 4 family flat, and had a small 13 inch TV on a 3 legged stool in her living room. She worked 2 jobs, had no kids, and drove a car that was single handily destroying the ozone layer (lol). It wasn’t her living conditions that disturbed me but how happy she was with them that did.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> I remember Dianne’s oldest daughter was in high school, she was very intelligent. She had gotten accepted into various colleges, and won opportunities to travel . I’ve always wondered what drove her? Did Dianne push her to be better than herself? Was she actually able to see outside the bubble that her mother never did? Was it just wanting more out of life than she currently had?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Again; “Comforts” can be mental prisons, painted sun glasses dead weight at best anchoring all of us down for too, too long.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love your life</p><p></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/13196792013-08-02T07:59:37-04:002013-08-02T22:49:39-04:00Piano Lessons, Jealously, and Fighting For Your Goals <p class="MsoNormal">I remember sitting in front of my mother’s maroon piano. Seconds seem like hours and hours seem like days. “Practice,” yelled my grandmother from the other room. Thus, I commenced to play Schubert, Chopin and Mozart. Wishing I was outside at the same time.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The experience; to sum it up – I hated it!</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t like the piano, I didn’t like practicing the piano, and I had stopped wanting to learn after the first month I got started. Piano lessons were like quarter machine gum: after a few chews, the sugar was out and I just wanted to throw the shit away. But week after week I was whisked to my lessons until my grandfather finally gave up.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Yahhhhhhh” lol</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But I’ll tell you what I hated the most: I couldn’t play music “by ear.” By the time I was fifteen, I knew other kids that were musically inclined. Kids who never had real lessons, could hear a song on the radio and just start playing. I hated that – I wanted that to be me.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">However, this proved to be a valuable precursor to many of my life’s experiences.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I struggled at math and could not understand how someone could be “naturally” be good at math! When I got to college, I found myself “naturally” good at writing. Other classmates in comp class found my knack for being a wordsmith amazing! </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Let’s fast-forward a little more. When I worked at Enterprise Rent-A-Car; I had coworkers that could naturally “sell” and those who couldn’t. When I started my photo biz, I met photographers who obtained the photography skills part easily, but could not get a good grasp on the business part. I met other photographers who were master business gurus; but struggled to learn the camera.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And of course, this leads me to health and fitness. All of us know people who have to do very little in the gym to maintain a good physique. We also know people who work their asses off and have to fight for every ounce of muscle gained and fat lost. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And this is the point. You shouldn’t ever, ever, ever concern yourself with the progress or qualities of someone else. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yeah, you have to work harder in the gym than the person holding the barbell next to you. So what? How is that benefiting or hindering you?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How cares if your associate’s parents gave him start-up money for his business and you had to use credit cards to finance yours. So what? How is that benefiting or hindering you?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All this means is that you’re going to have to work. Work harder in the classroom, the gym, and everywhere else.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Don’t get me wrong – it’s nothing wrong with “paying attention” to what the other person is doing. However, spending valuable brainpower on hatting on that person’s genetics, or natural gifts in the shared field will keep you mentally and physically trapped in the basement of your mind.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/12561912013-07-23T14:59:37-04:002018-05-22T10:27:52-04:00Love Letter to Black Women about Health and Obesity<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/663c49e8d0ff84f2d3c9ed2b60bde91b9343faa1/medium/120911-health-weight-obesity-diet.jpg?1374788092" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="169" width="300" /><br><br>
</p>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">Over the past few weeks I’ve come across various statistical reports which say that half of African American women in this country are obese (49.5 percent to be exact), diabetic, or both.</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">Initially ladies; I discounted this as nothing but inaccurate statistics. Ballooned up numbers trying to make black women look bad and feel worse. But then I started paying attention and asking questions like -</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-Why when I visit my aunt in the nursing home there are more of you than me?</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-When I go to church on Sunday; there are more of you on canes, wheel chairs, and walkers than me?</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-Why does my friend who runs a kidney dialysis transportation business tell\ me that there are more of you then me.</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">Now I’m not here to showboat, to scare you, or to make you feel bad. I’m writing this because I love you. I love your strength, your character, your history, the way you can make something out of nothing, the way you multi-task, the way you go to school, work 2 jobs and raise children at the same time. I love the no-nonsense tenacity you direct towards the men in your lives, I love your smile, the way you look after your parents, and the way you love your significant others. I love your education, your wit, your loyalty, your heart, and your alternative perspective. This is coming from me - your brother, uncle, father, son, best friend and husband.</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">However I don’t love your diet. I hate it when I see you pull into the McDonalds drive thru, when I see you at the gas station needing an extra hand because of all the chips and pop your holding. I hate hearing the stories from personal trainer friends who say you complain about not wanting to work out hard because you don't want to sweat your hair out. The stories about how many of you are more concerned with not loosing your butt, than trying to loosing your gut.</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">I swear I don't mean to offend. In fact I'm not even trying to inspire. This is an attempt to provoke you to change your life so you can save your life. Now I can go into allllll kinds of statistics, but I'd rather just “keep it real.”</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">And that means understanding whatever cancer and diseases that's susceptible to whites is even more susceptible to blacks. Whatever illness and conditions that kills whites – will kill you a lot faster. So the bad carbs, high amounts of sugar, and unhealthy fats that comfort you when you're depressed. That keep you going through long days at work. The crispy fried chicken wings you live for, the pizza at the kid's birthday parties, the cheesecake you can't turn down, the ice-cream that calls you in the middle of the night, the jelly, toast and bagels that wakes you up, and the fast food you eat because you don't make time to cook is all killing you.</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">And some of you are smacking ya' lips saying, “Who does he think he is?” or “Just because you got yourself together doesn't make you an expert!” or “He got some nerve trying to tell me what to do.” etc....</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">No I'm not an expert. I don't have to be to care and “yes” I have nerve..... and a WHOLE lot of audacity. So I'm challenging you, all of you to throw some of that audacity back at me. Throw it up in my face. Let me see you at the gym more than the club (the weight side not just the aerobic classes!) Let me see you at the farmer's market more than the drive-thru.</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">And hopefully, God wiling, when we're old – we won't be trading prescription stories and health insurance horror tales. But we'll be talking about how good are knees and hearts feel, how great it is to be able to travel, work, play with grand kids without the use of a walker, wheel chair, or cane.</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">Challenge issued ladies. Do you accept?</span></div>
<div> </div>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/10728982013-07-05T07:01:14-04:002017-01-11T08:20:31-05:00African-Americans, Disease, Solutions, Lifestyle and Death- Part 2. Native Americans and Africans<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/62832cb62d88df15ce0b9f38861ceb0648ceb1e8/original/imgres-1.jpeg?1372592496" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="168" width="299" /> <br><br><p class="MsoNormal">Genetics is one of the cornerstones of treating and understanding disease and cancer. Knowing what cells and diseases your parents and grandparents had helps immensely in determining what an individual may be predisposed too. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But; what if learning what you're predisposed to goes back further than just grand ma and gran pa? What if your entire ancestry could tell you what you should and should not be eating? What if all the answers were in the historical development of your ethnicity?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><b>-The Native American Example-</b></u></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p><u><b> </b></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The early Native American diet and hunter/gatherer lifestyle can be considered the epitome of efficiency. Buffalo, fish, berries, and vegetables were hunted, gathered and eaten for hundreds of years. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">During the 1830s and 1840s; Native American tribes were relocated to reservations under the Indian Removal Act and treaty. In 1890, the American government disallowed Native Americas to hunt or gather on their usual grounds. In substitute –they were introduced to the Western diet: grains, processed meats, high sugar, omega 6 fats, and very little of the nutrients they were used too.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Fast forward 100 years later and the result is horrific</i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p><i> </i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>* American Indian and Alaska Native adults are 1.6 times more likely to be obese than whites, (Office of Minority Health.)</i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>* Almost 33 percent of all American Indians and Alaskan Natives are overweight, (Office of Minority Health.)</i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>*16.1 percent of Native Americans and Alaskan Natives suffer from Type II diabetes, (American Diabetes Association).</i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All these problems were rare (if seen at all) prior to their adaptation to the Western Diet. Thus; a large push is being driven by nutritional activists and dietitians within the Native America community to return to their traditional way of eating.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><b>-How this Affects African Americans-</b></u></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Prior to slavery the Western African diet consisted of fish, chicken, lamb, yams, cocoyams, cassava, greens, millet, and sorghum, (of course there was more). When slavery began in 1619, the most common diet was pork and cornmeal. If they were lucky; (though I hate to use that word), they “might” have had the opportunity to fish/trap and grow vegetables. But on some plantations –that was about as common as eating with the master. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Due to the slave’s 54-hour workweek, and small portions of food given – it’s impossible to see the immediate negative effects of diet as it was with Native Americans. Slaves were commonly sick and malnourished. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">However, one must evaluate African American’s rate of disease as it relates to the rest of America’s population. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">2 main points here-</p><p></p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="1" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal">As food has become more processed and built around “grains & sugars” – caner, obesity, diabetes, stroke, and heart disease have all risen tremendously. <p></p>
</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">Whatever conditions and diseases afflict white America- they afflict black America harder with a higher mortality rate.<p></p>
</li>
</ol><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Solutions & Answers</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Again; news reports will you tell African Americans are more susceptible to cancer and disease because of poverty and poor access to proper healthcare. This is partially true. However, what about the food? What if we’re eating food we’re not supposed to eat based on our genetic make-up. What if we’re not supposed to eat macaroni, spaghetti, crackers, wheat bread, boxed cereal, or cornbread? What if the fast food, chips, Twinkies and cookies are doing just as much damage as cigarettes and alcohol? If the breaded catfish fried in vegetable oil was killing you; could you give it up? Could you opt for grill or baked chicken on a consistent basis?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">DNA and genetics go way past grannies and grand dads. The actions needed to avoid sickness and disease may have more to do with your ancestry than your healthcare provider.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Think about it.</b></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/10473962013-07-01T04:45:00-04:002017-01-11T08:20:31-05:00African-Americans, Disease, Solutions, Lifestyle and Death- Part 1. Fast Food<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/0cbaa9566474777d43ae4d0301f0bc30c885c74d/original/imgres.jpeg?1372591777" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="240" width="180" /><br><br><br><span style="font-size: medium;"><br><div><i>This is the first installment of an ongoing series addressing the health concerns within African-american community and the diet and lifestyle changes needed to correct those concerns.</i></div>
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<div><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></b></div>
<div><b><span style="font-size: large;">First – The Facts.</span></b></div>
<div><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br></i></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: small;"><i>-Before age 50, African-American's heart failure rate is 20 times higher than that of whites (New England Journal of Medicine 2005)</i></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: small;"><i>-63 percent of African-American men and 77 percent of African-American women are overweight or obese. (American Heart Association 2013)</i></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: small;"><i>-African-Americans are nearly twice as likely to have diabetes than whites. (American Heart association 2013).</i></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: small;"><i>-Lung cancer was 36 percent more common in African American men than in Caucasian men. (Centers for Disease Control 2001-2005)</i></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: small;"><i>-Colorectal cancer is 20% higher and mortality rates are about 45% higher in African-americans.(American Caner Society 2011-2013)</i></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: small;"><i>-Prostate cancer rates are two-thirds higher in African-american men than whites. (National Caner institute)</i></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: small;"><i>-African American adults are twice as likely than non-Hispanic white adults to have been diagnosed with diabetes by a physician. (Office of Minority Health 2013)</i></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: small;"><i>-African American adults are 1.6 times as likely than their White adult counterparts to have a stroke (Office of Minority Health).</i></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: small;"><i>-African-Americans have a slightly higher risk of Alzheimer's disease than people of largely European ancestry. (The Journal of American Medical Association 2013) </i></span></div>
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<div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>“The PROBLEM & SOULTION are the same thing: FOOD!” Rod Finley</b></span></div>
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<div><span style="font-size: medium;">Those that have known me for a while remember the 5 year stretch in which I was a vegetarian. Some might even remember prior to that when I could be found eating cheese sticks, chili fries, and a club sandwich on a daily basis. Yes; that was my tri-fecta! I also recall always having stomach aches, acid reflux, and flatulence. I got tired of feeling crappy, and decided to do a complete overhaul of my diet. Though I understand now becoming a vegetarian was not the wisest choice; at least I tired.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">I was</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> 24 then. I'm 37 now; I eat a high protein, medium fat, and low carbohydrate diet and I rarely have a stomach ache. When I go the doctor for blood work and physicals- I get treated like a 4.0 student. But I know plenty of folks who still eat like I ate when I was 21. I know folks who eat fast-food everyday and happily wash it down with a Pepsi! I know people that eat so many Better Made chips that they should own stock in the company. I know folks that were borderline suicidal when they stopped making Twinkies. Some of these people have grown to be obese, others have always been obese, and some are naturally lean. I hear complaints about their weight, failed exercise attempts, and various medical problems. </span>
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<div><span style="font-size: medium;">2 things the folks listed about have in common is that they're all black and they're all doing their bodies a great injustice.</span></div>
<div><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></b></div>
<div><b><span style="font-size: large;">The PROBLEM & SOULTION are the same thing: FOOD!</span></b></div>
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<div><span style="font-size: medium;">This blog post is not about going organic or grass feed. This post is not about supplementation or exercise. All that stuff will get written about future posts. This is about lifestyle changes and the easiest one to start with is limiting fast food. This is simply about cooking your own patties instead of going through the drive-thru, making the chicken salad instead of buying fried chicken fingers, drinking a glass of water instead of grabbing a Coke, adding broccoli & carrots with your meal instead of fries and onion rings. The discussion has to start with buying your own groceries, cooking your own food 5 times a week, and making healthier choices. </span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">In some way or another – we are all slaves to convenience. Remote controls, microwaves, cell phones, cubicle jobs, the internet, and fast-food has vice-grips on all us. Its easier to make cereal for breakfast than steel cut oatmeal and eggs. Most times you will drive past 10 fast-food restaurants on the way to the grocery store.</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br></b></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The PROBLEM & SOULTION are the same thing: FOOD!</b></span></div>
<div> </div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">My grandmother didn't always practice the most optimal diet but certain things made a lot of sense.</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-Fast food was a once a week experience (no matter how much I begged for a Big Mac).</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-Cod Liver oil was given to me every night (“This will make you smart,” she said).</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-Fish & rice, beef stew & peas, chicken & green beans, salmon pattie and potatoes, were some of her combinations.</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-We didn't own a microwave or buyh frozen meals until she passed and my grandfather and I were forced to fend for ourselves. Lol</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">I listed a series of diseases above and the problem has been laid out- now lets look at solutions</span></div>
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<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-The same thing that causes Alzheimer's is the same thing that causes diabetes. Too much damn sugar. There is sugar in bread, sugar in cereal, sugar in breakfast bars, sugar in low-fat food, etc..... Alzheimer’s is like diabetes of the brain. Since we all have I-Phones/Smart phones – when you go shopping look up how much sugar you're buying either on the label or in your phone (i'm sure there is an app for that-lol)</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-Bad fats and bad carbohydrates lead to Heart disease and strokes. This means limiting foods fried in vegetable or canola oil (when those oils get heated – they become toxic). Here's another secret – you don't have to put flour on wings to make them taste good! lol If upgrading to Coconut or Macedonia nut oil is too costly – then just bake your chicken!</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">- a reduction in colon issues and other intestinal concerns can be aided by proper fiber consumption. Kale, spinach, Romain lettuce, and mix nuts are all excellent sources of fiber that should be consumed on a a regular basis. Aslo, saurkrout and cabbage has great probiotics in them to keep your gut healthy!</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-The longer men live, the more likely they are to get prostate issues. But that doesn't mean they should die from them. A decrease in processed carbohydrates and daily ejaculations will reduce possibly problems. </span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: medium;">-Eating bacon, chicken and steak won't take you to obesity land; but eating toast, jelly, corn, and cookies will.</span></div>
<div><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></b></div>
<div><b><span style="font-size: large;">The PROBLEM & SOULTION are the same thing: FOOD!</span></b></div>
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<div><span style="font-size: medium;">These are just a handful or choices to think about but doing all those doesn't mean you won't live forever or you won't get sick. But I'm all about stacking the odds in my favor, and lets me honest – do you really want to be on 30 different medications instead of just changing your eating habits? Do it before its too late, the damn clock is ticking.</span></div>
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<div><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Again: I am not a doctor, personal trainer, health guru, nutrientalist, dietician, sociologist, or mastermind. In the grand scheme of things – I’m a nobody; a regular guy who figured out what works for me and maybe it will work for you. We are all made different with different metabolisms, genders, birth dates, different genetics/medical histories, and different body types. You have to make/learn what works for you.</span></i></div>
<div> </div>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/10101542013-06-25T08:53:46-04:002017-01-11T08:20:31-05:00Happiness, love, Careers, and Sports <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/d19ff62d13629bc129f07e4ab8fd5a9db26b4703/thumb/what-if.jpg?1372180095" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="116" width="125" /> <br><br><p class="MsoNormal">You can look at any of my participation in organized sports from middle school to high school and I guarantee you that I was far from an “impact player.” Without going into too much embarrassing detail – I really can’t think of any major contribution during my stint of high school football.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">However I can assure you that none of this ever bothered me. Why? Honestly; I loved the game (football) and that was the only reason I played. I could watch the game for hours, not matter who would be playing. I didn’t play for attention, girls, or to be “accepted” or “known” for something. Of course I wanted to succeed, be in the game, crack the starting line-up, and make big plays but I loved the game so much – participating and knowing I was doing my best held a certain degree of satisfaction for me. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t know it then but I was learning a lot about myself.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My first year at Oakland University, one of my Communication teachers; Gene Foggle told me; “Do what you love and the money will come.” I’ll never forgot those words. At that time, it seemed that I was slowly becoming a “career” college student because I simply didn’t know what I wanted to do with myself. I had changed majors several times, and really I just wanted a “good job” when I graduated and make a lot of money-lol. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But Mr. Foogle’s words really stuck with me. It took me back to playing high school football. Again, I played because I loved the game. So I decided at that it was time to start doing what made me happy and that was writing and taking pictures. I also decided that even if I couldn’t support myself doing those things- I would define myself by those 2 things and never stop doing them.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was off and running and the rest is history. There have been other interest, hobbies, money making opportunities that have came about – but none that I love as much as writing and photographer. However in in my observations and experiences- most people haven’t grasped this. I even tell my own children when they’re participating in sports – “you gotta’ love the game.” If you love the game – it won’t be a chore to work hard, get to practice early, stay late, etc… If you love your career – it won’t be a chore to work hard at it. If your love your business – it won’t be a chore to do what it takes to make it become what you envisioned it to be.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I know a lot of you have heard this and I know a lot of you have heard this but still aren’t implementing it-lol. Now I’m not telling you to quit your job and become a short-order cook because you love cooking so much. Lol I’m just saying – make time, make it priority to do to things you love to do (weather you are getting paid a lot for those things or not).</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Because when you really, really think about it- you don’t want your life be a kaleidoscope of colors where none are your favorite.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love your life</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/10016592013-06-24T04:53:19-04:002017-01-11T08:20:31-05:00Restraint, Self-Justifications, Dessert, Hats, & Shoes<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/af2540bdee1bb9d868e72f8e54ae8b0cd597b704/medium/sweets.jpeg?1377795552" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="225" width="300" /> <br><br><p class="MsoNormal">You decided to join friends/co-workers for lunch today. It’s a Monday and you’re super proud of yourself. You hit the gym hard all weekend, avoided the bad fats, unhealthy carbs, and ate mostly lean protein and veggies. Consistency is the main thing that’s been hindering your health and weight loss goals and it seems you have found it. After a lunch of chicken breast and steamed broccoli, your friends decided to order dessert. When the waiter ask if you are ordering any dessert for yourself- you display a proud defiant smile followed by a, “No thank you.”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But then you decided to browsed through the dessert section on the menu. And that’s when your eyes and tongue start to plot against your brain, and all of a sudden these start strange rationales and justifications start popping up.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, I did work-out this morning so my body can handle a little sugar.”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“The Apple Pie and ice cream says no added sugar. How bad could it be?”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“If I get on the treadmill when I get off work – I can undo any damage.”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">AND THEN MY FAVORITE –</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I’ve been doing so good at the gym and with my diet that I OWE IT TO MYSELF!”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m sure if you’re reading this – this scenario applies to you. I know it applies to me. I call it “Self-Manipulation” or “Self-Justification.”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Here’s a big secret about myself- I get super addicted to lots of things.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I was 16, I had 27 baseball hats. I just had to have more hats. Didn’t know how to stop myself even though I only had one head to wear these hats! When I was 25 I fell in love with Pumas – went on to by about 10 pair within 6 months. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Certain kinds of addictions I’ve learned to nip in the bud before I get too carried away (my love for Cuban style shirts, Fedora hats, Flat Caps, weight equipment, and Under Armor gear). Other addictions I decided to let them manifest (working out, photography, and poetry).</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My point is – with any unnecessary addiction- there was always a mind-state I was fighting off. I would be on-line, see a new Goorin Bros hat that I had no money to buy and start the same rationale with myself as the person eating lunch in the scenario.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t need any more hats.”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“But I do need a hat to go with my brown slacks.”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I did book 2 extra weddings this year, so I do have the money coming .”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I’ve been saving money – I OWE IT MYSLEF TO BUY THIS HAT.” LOL</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Will power is like a muscle. The more you exercise it – the stronger it gets. The same part of your brain that stops you from spending extra at the mall is the same part that tells you not to order dessert. The same part of the brain that convinces you to click the mouse to order the new pair of shoes of Macy’s website is the same part of the brain that makes you grab the spoon and dive into the ice-cream.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now I know in the grand scheme of things these are very “light” addictions. These aren’t alcohol, gambling or drug addictions. Those are more extreme. These addictions are much lighter but these are the kind that we’re faced with every day and multiple times a day.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And the only way to truly, truly fight off the self-justification is to tap into the other part of your brain where the will power is. Hec, even talk out loud! You will find that it becomes easier when you apply it to all parts of your life. When you apply great mental restraint towards your spending, it will help you apply it towards your diet, which will help you apply it toward sour spiritual goals, and so on and so on.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Try it.</p><p></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/8646592013-06-03T05:51:54-04:002017-01-11T08:20:30-05:00Marriage, weight loss, your way, my way, nuggets and absolutes <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/426cc13504d7c185bc9a9ebf702a1c555d60c682/thumb/images-1.jpeg?1377795552" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="125" width="121" /><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I know happy marriages where one spouse practices a differently religion than the other, some where one spouse doesn’t practice a religion at all, and others where couples are opposite in weight, height, color, income, careers, interests, or health. I know happy marriages that have survived addiction, incarceration, inconsistency, and infidelity. I don’t use the word “happy” loosely. These are not observations but actual details shared with me during conversations with folks who have been married for 15 to 50 years. Random dialogue with old coworkers, neighbors, and others who decided to “let me in.”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I knew a gentleman who told me his wife dogged him and disrespected him for 10 years because he went from a millionaire to being broke (twice). I asked why he stayed with her and he said, “God wanted me to and now our marriage is better than ever!”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Another woman, who was an extremely faithful churchgoer; but her husband never joined her. Seemed odd but she would quickly say; “He may not be a church man but he’s a good man.”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The point? Well; there is no such thing as a “model” marriage. Every marriage works by way of both parties willing to sacrifice, commit, and put up with. What works for one couple is not guaranteed to work for another. That’s not to say it’s nothing to learn! No; there is plenty to learn. But “learning” comes in the form of nuggets, sentences, ideas, and quotes that leave an impact - not a guidebook. We all make up our own guidebooks as we go along.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I first started going to the gym and getting engulfed in the fitness culture – I noticed several things. There were women who could lose weight while still eating fruit (where as I couldn’t), there were men that had big arms but never did any isolated arm movements, there were men in single digit body fat that never did cardio, there were folks that had great legs but claimed they never squatted, and I can go on and on.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Just like marriage, I never looked at any of these individuals as the “ideal” way to work-out or eat – but just observed and talked to them to gain information that would help me on my own personal fitness journey. I always site my good friend Julian Palm as the person who really gave me the tools to get in shape. Though he’s a personal trainer – I was never one of his clients. One of his most valuable assets to me was introducing me to the newsletters, magazines, websites, books, online radio shows, and doctor’s blogs where I could obtained all the information I wanted/needed in regards to health, weight training, and nutrition. I dove right in collecting quotes, tearing out articles, printing out paragraphs, and storing random but potent sentences in the back of my head. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Again – collecting nuggets of information to help guide my journey. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is important because everyone wants to sell us the “Best” way to do something. The best way to start a business, the best way to get rich, the best to loose weight, the best way to be a parent and etc…</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">No such thing. Life has very few “absolutes.” Ask any successful businessman what “book” did he read when he was starting his business and I’m sure he’ll name several.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I remember when I used to hit the gym at midnight because at the time – it fit my schedule the best. I knew women who would not have let their husbands weight train at that time on a regular basis and men who hated working out that late. My wife never had a problem with it and I liked being in the gym late with no one there.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It worked for me and it worked for us.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Your challenge? Find out what works for you and yours……..</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Live Happy</p><p></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/7872612013-05-21T09:01:41-04:002013-05-21T09:01:41-04:00Consistency VS. Transformations <b>Question 1#</b>
<p class="MsoNormal">What’s more inspirational; the woman that gains 150 pounds and then loses it and looks better than ever? OR the woman that never gained 150 pounds in the first place because she has always done everything right?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Question 2#</b></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What’s more impressive? The son that started his own real-estate business from scratch and is now a millionaire? OR the son that inherited his father’s real-estate business and took it from a million dollar business to a billion dollar business? </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Question 3#</b></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What’s more motivational? The kid from the hood that got locked up, got out, went to school, turned his life around, mentors kids, and has a bestselling book? OR the kid from the hood that became a doctor and has a bestselling book?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">By now you get my point. But let me preface this blog entry by saying this; I absolutely love a good transformation story. “Change” and “Come Up” stories are sexy. They appeal to the possibilities. They tell you, “just because you’re not there; doesn’t mean you can’t get there.” The challenge of completely altering the various parts of our lives (or our lives as a whole) is the biggest challenge and risk you can take on. As Drake would say; “Started form the bottom now we’re here.” Weather its movies or music – a “change” or rags to riches story is a novel that gets written over and over and over again. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">However; where does that leave the folks who have always done it, were destined to do it, who define the words consistency and stability? The folks who have always met expectations?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Consistency holds its only form of inspiration</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">-The older woman at the gym who’s been at it since her early 20s is motivational. She incorporated fitness and diet in her lifestyle and never wavered.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">-The senior citizen that amassed his retirement nest by saving 25 percent of his income since his first paycheck is inspiring. I mean I’m still trying to do that.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">-The daughter who cherished her father’s comic book stand so much that she turned it into a store with multiple locations. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">-Your co-worker who hasn’t missed a day of work in 30 years.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">-The father who has never missed any of his kid’s games, competitions, or ceremonies. Do you know how hard that is?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">-The couple that wed right out of high school and has been married for 50 years.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Consistency holds its only form of motivation. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Just because there wasn’t a “struggle” to get there doesn’t mean it wasn’t a “struggle” to stay there. There’s something worthy of holding onto in everyone’s story.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love Life Folks</p><p></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/7384032013-05-14T06:03:32-04:002017-01-11T08:20:30-05:00Whoudda, couldda, shoulda, what ifs, and wishes and having a short memory<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/426cc13504d7c185bc9a9ebf702a1c555d60c682/thumb/images-1.jpeg?1377795552" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="125" width="121" /> <br><br><p class="MsoNormal">I wish I had taken that internship at the radio station when I was in college. If I had it to do all over again, I wouldn’t have sold all my stocks 10 years ago. I really wish I could have finished filming that movie. I shoulda’ sold my old camera equipment earlier when it carried more value. I whoudda’ got that shot if the dummy with the Ipad hadn’t got in my way. I couldda’ saved so much more money when I was younger.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If you are haunted by questions and thoughts such as these than you are making it very hard on yourself to reach you goals.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sports provides the best analogy. When pitcher misfires a pitch or has a bad outing – he lets it go and gets ready for the next start/next pitch. A star basketball player misses a game wining shot – he lets it go and gets ready for the next game. A quarterback can throw three interceptions in the first half and three touchdowns in the next.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Short Memory for Long Term Goals</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Most times one of the aspects of reaching goals and having a successful life includes remembering experiences. Being able to “remember” and “learn” from good and bad, being able to “reflect” and “evaluate” on strategic actions and sudden moves. You have to learn from bad decisions in order to grow past them. You have to be able to reproduce your thought pattern in the heat of the moment in order ridicule it. This is what business plans are made of. This is how we set goals? This is also how we constantly upgrade and gage ourselves. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But there is a difference between learning from mistakes and being haunted/hindered by them. This is nothing new. Phrases like “don’t beat yourself up about it,” or “Let it go,” are commonly used in these types of situations. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Letting our mistakes “haunt” us makes us scared. You cannot be scared in striving for goals. Being scared means you won’t’ take risk, being scared means you’ll overthink and over talk yourself out of good decision and great opportunities. It can be hard to recognize being scared. Most times you just think you’re doing your due diligence in trying to avoid another pitfall when in reality you avoided the pitfall and the opportunity on the other side of the pitfall at the same time.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I can tell you about the Direct Mail campaign that I spent 2500 bucks on that barely brought in 2 clients, or my Mall Ad that only netted 3 clients but coast me 900 bucks. I can go on and on, and you can bet yo’ bottom dollar that I never stopped, never got overly frustrated, and I never got scared!</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Lesson here- Bad mistakes and horrible luck are a part of life. When you let the bad luck bugs and bad decisions worry you; you get scared, and when you get scared – progress stops.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As P-Diddy used to say, “I thought I told you that we don’t stop!” lol</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/5181882013-04-12T09:19:04-04:002013-04-12T09:19:04-04:00Go for the PASSION not the HUSTLE <a class="rg_l" href="http://www.google.com/imgres?um=1&sa=N&biw=852&bih=421&hl=en&tbm=isch&tbnid=vZ3p1pmwqrlmQM:&imgrefurl=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Hustle_title_card2-640.jpg&docid=_2fiMNzbUhmSlM&imgurl=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/d/d0/Hustle_title_card2-640.jpg&w=441&h=231&ei=BE5oUa6IGJP7yAGo8oCYAQ&zoom=1&iact=rc&dur=284&page=2&tbnh=132&tbnw=231&start=8&ndsp=12&ved=1t:429,r:11,s:0,i:184&tx=126&ty=74" style="width: 231px; height: 132px; left: 0px;"><span style="left: 0px;"><img src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSV84ysz9PREpDNhNzzTo3aktkWDXQ4DOHYgWI2mtRqaX-dhGk2" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" name="vZ3p1pmwqrlmQM:" style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; WIDTH: 253px; HEIGHT: 132px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px" /></span><br></a>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="width: 231px; height: 132px; left: 0px;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Every so often I’ll receive a request to take “party photographs.” You know – Tupac/Rolls Royce/Mansion air brushed background type photos. I’ll very politely decline the offer. I don’t decline because I’m booked or because I think I’m “too good” for that type of photography. Trust me; I know several photographers who make 2 or 3 thousand shooting events like that. I turn those gigs down because I’m not passionate about that form of photography and I look at it as more of a “hustle” than an “art form.” </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Over the years I’ve been offered and have turned down a wide assortment of “hustle opportunities.” There was one dude who wanted me to be a bail bondsman. There were offers to sell bogus healthcare supplements, coupon books, pharmaceuticals, weed, etc…. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But I learned when I was 23 – I wasn’t really a hustler- I just knew how to hustle the things I’m passionate about. This made my short “career” working at Enterprise-Rent-A-Care a little rough. It was a very high stress, high octane sales environment. A real “sink or swim” type of place where you had to grind every day. But to me – it was just a job! Lol, either way; a year and a half was all I could take. My passion was too wrapped around writing and photography to try and share it with rental cars! Lol </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I used to host/throw Spoken Word Poetry Shows – the goal was never to see big profits; but just to throw the dopest show possible! Sometimes this meant taking a loss and other times it meant breaking even. Even now, I’m a much better photographer than businessman. Even though I understand that the business side it just as important – I’m wayyyyyy more passionate about being behind the lens of a camera and communicating with my client and going over marketing budgets and sending payment request. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Point here is that following your passion may not make you rich. You may have to get a job to finance your passion. There may be money in your passion; but it may take years to get to it. Your passion may not be able to support the life you want to live. It’s about doing what makes you happy, doing what fulfills you the most, and learning what you can live without. I have 4 children and a wife – I “have” to make money. My passion has to make my money. This is part of the reason why I had to focus more on photography than writing (but that’s for another blog post). </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> But one thing I can’t do – and that’s pick up a random “hustle” and try to turn it into a passion. I’m sure if I tried to open a cleaners it would fail because I could care less about “opening a cleaners.” I know a guy that makes a killing shining shoes. He loves it, doesn’t take days off, and relishes ever opportunity he gets to make the leather look new again on a pair of Florsheims or Kenneth Cole’s. Sounds weird but that’s his passion.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Your job is to find yours and don’t worry about if it makes money or not. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love your life.</p><p></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/5083262013-04-11T03:31:20-04:002017-01-11T08:20:30-05:00Weight Loss, Surgery, Depression, & Your Journey<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/9047614cce98fd770e899b450c1e97e4862bee4a/original/imgres-2.jpeg?1377795552" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="183" width="276" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/426cc13504d7c185bc9a9ebf702a1c555d60c682/original/images-1.jpeg?1377795552" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="228" width="221" /> <br><br><p class="MsoNormal">A few weeks ago, a story was posted on various internet news outlets about a woman who lost over a hundred pounds but found herself no happier than when she was fat. The woman had received Gastric Bypass Surgery and when it was over – she still had the same depression issues that she had before she lost the weight.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">2 Angles here I want too explore-</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The first is “depression.” It’s so ingrained in our culture to want to fix the “outside” first when the problem is actually in the “inside”. Because the woman thought that losing weight would solve all her problems, I’m led to believe that she didn’t know herself or understand herself. This doesn’t just go for weight loss, but this also applies to breast augmentation, butt implants, expensive hair<b> </b>styles, and clothing shopping sprees. You can throw money and surgery at depression all you want but in the end you’ll still be a depressed person with big boobs, big booty, a banging hair style, and a new outfit.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Honestly- seek therapy, prayer, and mediation. If you lose weight; do it for your health. Don’t do it thinking you’re going to “fix” something you never explored. It’s almost like winning the lottery and thinking the windfall of money will change your own “personal” issues within. A person who had depression issues before his lottery winnings will still have them after. The only difference is that he/she will throw away hundreds of thousands of dollars at material things in search of happiness.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The other angle is as I read this, I couldn’t help but wonder if she would have lost her weight the “old fashion way,” (you know; diet, exercise, rest maybe) – would she still be depressed?</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There is no way to answer this question 100 percent but I do have to believe (based on myself and other’s experiences) that she would have felt a more sense of fulfillment and would have had higher self-esteem if she had put in the hard work it takes to accomplish such a task. I am not dogging surgery as a means to lose weight. Life is about choices – I made mine and you can make yours. But I can say from personal experience that I’m just as proud of my journey as I am the result. Getting up at 4 a.m. to hit the gym, the strict diet, the will power to say “no” and the drive to keep going (even when progress greatly slowed) are all things I’m extremely proud of. I learned a lot about myself, I learned I had more inside myself than I ever thought. Thus; I hang my hat on this. It’s a badge I wear proudly and I encourage others to do the same. Believe in yourself, take time to be proud of yourself, and take pride in your journey.</p><p></p>
<br><br type="_moz">Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/4612112013-04-03T05:00:30-04:002017-01-11T08:20:30-05:00Cookies, Booty Calls, Cinnabons, Muscles, Fats, & Understanding Insulin<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/af2540bdee1bb9d868e72f8e54ae8b0cd597b704/medium/sweets.jpeg?1377795552" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="225" width="300" /> <br><br><br><p class="MsoNormal">Once a week, you can catch me nose deep in a pile of cookies, cinnabon, or a few slices of pizza. “Most” times I have just finished my workout and it’s probably late evening. This is my official Cheat Meal and it’s treated like a college booty-call; in &out with not feelings or attachments - just instant gratification (lol). And it’s extremely important for a number of reasons.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">First let’s get the science out the way first and explain insulin.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Insulin is a hormone that enables your body to void glucose from your blood and store it as glycogen in your liver and muscles. The glycogen is used as an energy source for your body and keeps the body from using stored fat for energy. If the glycogen is not used; it’s stored as fat. This is why low-carb diets are encouraged. When you dramatically reduce sugar/carbs – your body is forced to use stored fat for energy. Also this is the core of why so many adults get diagnosed with diabetes – they eat so many carbs meal after meal, year after year - that their bodies get tired of producing insulin and eventfully stop. even if they have managed to stay slim).</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Ok that was your human biology lesson for the day: back to the real world facets of all this.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My weekly nighttime cheat meal actually serves a more valuable purpose than just satisfying my cravings. Because my weight loss strategy was/is based on reducing my sugar/carb intake – that means my insulin level stays low (super low) all week. This is not bad but staying low to “too long” and you screw up your thyroid (and if your thyroid is slow/broke – it will be extremely hard for you to keep losing weight). The 200 grams of carbs in my cheat meal refuels my glycogen stores/cells and gives my metabolism/thyroid a swift kick in the ass. It’s almost like hitting the “reset” button on your body!</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So why am I eating bad carbs instead of sweet potatoes, oatmeal and brown rice? Because those foods give me a slow and steady insulin response as they are digested. But after you weight train – you want don’t want “slow and steady;” you want “bang and pow!” Like I implied earlier - sweet potatoes, oatmeal and brown rice are girlfriends/wives. Sweets are booty-calls. lol</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The other important thing is that my cheat meal supports muscle growth. Why/how do you ask? After you weight train your insulin levels are low, your body is exhausted and hungry. When you eat a sugary carbs meal (and protein) – it gobbles it right up, sends all the food to the cells/muscles that you tore apart lifting weights and starts to repair/recover. Which means most times – very little of your post work-out meal will be stored as fat. In fact you will burn more fuel thought the day. That’s why I love working out in the morning on an empty stomach; it puts my body into a state where it wants to burn, burn, burn all the food it gets. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>CARBS IN THE A.M.- THE GREAT DEBATE</b></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If you’re like me and work-out in the morning almost ALL THE TIME – the bad part of having your cheat meal in the a.m. is that you will be hungrier than you usually are the rest of the day. Insulin is powerful; once you hit it with some sugar – it will want more and more sugar. That’s why some folks can eat a whole Hot’N’ Ready or a whole box of Dunkin Donuts! When was the last time you saw someone eat 5 New York strip steaks? </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is also the reason you should let go of your everyday oatmeal and fruit breakfast. Though oatmeal is a pretty good/safe carb source. If you are trying to lose weight, you will still be hungry as hell by lunch time. Just keep it simple and eat bacon and eggs. You will feel fuller throughout the day.<br><br><br></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>CARBS IN THE P.M.- THE GREAT DEBATE</b></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If I tell you to eat cookies once a week after your p.m. workout you might say; “Kahn, that’s counterproductive” or instantly get visions of sitting in front of Cosby Show reruns eating Oreos & ice-cream. Get all that out of your mind.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">One of the most efficient things you can do is hit the gym hard at night, go home, eat protein and cookies and go straight to sleep. Just once a week (lol). Because while you’re sleep, that insulin spike will die down and your body will go back into fat burning mode and that’s fine because you have already pumped food/glycogen into the cells and muscle. The advantage of being sleep is that it’s your “prime” recovery period and you won’t get hungry again because you’re sleep from the heavy work-out.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Again: I am not a doctor, personal trainer, health guru, nutrientalist, dietician, or mastermind. In the grand scheme of things – I’m a nobody; a regular guy who figured out what works for me and maybe it will work for you. We are all made different with different metabolisms, genders, birth dates, different genetics/medical histories, and different body types. You have to make/learn what works for you.</i></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<br><br type="_moz">Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/4564892013-04-02T10:33:41-04:002022-02-26T09:19:04-05:00Things the 37-year old Kahn would tell the 18-year old Kahn
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="1" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal">
<b>Stop investing money in things that yield you little like clothes, cars, jewelry, & people.</b><p></p>
</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">
<b>Listen to your grandfather now, he’s always right. This will save you money & mistakes in the near future.</b><p></p>
</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">
<b>You’re going to start falling in love with miscellaneous goals and pursing them sloppily. STOP and think things through.</b><p></p>
</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">
<b>In about 5 years you’re going to buy your first camera. Learn how to use it and don’t buy anything else until you do (because you’ll be selling all that stuff on EBAY later). </b><p></p>
</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">
<b>You eat Coney Island 3 times a day. STOP!</b><p></p>
</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">
<b>Don’t get so many tattoos. There will be more meaningful ones that you will want later on in life.</b><p></p>
</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">
<b>Here’s a secret – you already know your future wife (and I’m not telling you who she is –lol).</b><p></p>
</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">
<b>You have a friend that you need to ditch right now!</b><p></p>
</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">
<b>Buy stock in Microsoft, Compuware & Home Depot. Sell in a five years.</b><p></p>
</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">
<b>Learn how to swim, ski, fish, hunt, & hike. If you don’t now, you never will. </b><p></p>
</li>
</ol><p class="MsoNormal"><b> </b></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/4055492013-03-25T07:01:45-04:002022-05-14T02:12:50-04:00Suicide, Rape, Victims, Sharing, & Dark Secrets<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/3d7bd865d7b39f19fdfca44c815e4a190944379d/medium/Depressed-woman1.jpg?1377795552" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="236" width="300" /><br><br>
Between the ages of 16 and 23, I can honestly say I’ve had at least 20 conversations with various young ladies who revealed in me that they were raped or sexual abused by a family member, family friend, or ex-boyfriend. Most of them were acquaintances, friends, classmates, or co-workers who confided in me during in-depth dialogue. <br><br>
Also between the ages of 23 and 30, I’ve had at least 20 conversations with young men and women who confessed they either “attempted” suicide or seriously “contemplated” suicide at least once due to depression.<br><br>
What do these 2 things have in common? Well in both cases – they were “secrets.” In all of those conversations I was usually the first or second person those stories were divulged too. Most of those individuals never shared or sought help because were they embarrassed, hurt, and confused. It’s a reason a large amount of rapes go unreported and the reason a hefty quantity of depressions and suicides go untreated.<br><br>
At times the human experience will make victims out of all of us. Nobody ever wants to be seen as a “victim.” A lot of times society considers “victims” weaklings, defenseless, and mentally frail. Victims get beat up by their boyfriends, jumped at parties, raped, bullied at school, and found dead after they’ve hung themselves. Being victim is embarrassing. <br><br>
Like I said in my video, my grandparents didn’t want me seen as a “victim” after my parents died. They didn’t want life’s bar of expectations lowered since I had the poor misfortune of being the kid whose dad killed his mom and himself. Thus – my parent’s death became a “secret.” I agree with what they did but as adults; it’s okay to come mirror to mirror with your secrets or they will haunt you forever.<br><br>
Most of the people that shared their experience with me did so because I shared the story of my parent’s death/suicide with them. I shared something traumatic, something that was close enough to their experiences that they felt comfortable enough to share something back. And that’s how we all grow. That’s why I’ve always shared my parent’s story in poems and spoken word – I knew I would be reaching and touching someone in a very dark secret place.<br><br>
“Sharing” is the one thing God/The Universe has given us as an easy tool to inspire others and ourselves. Just when you think life has victimized you. Just when you think you have the worst story ever told, that you were dealt the worst hand ever, that you had to be the “only” one who ever thought about ending your life: you meet someone, share your story, they share back – and you discover we’re all not that much different.<br><br>
Live happy folks<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3938492013-03-22T04:48:58-04:002013-03-22T04:48:58-04:00Embarrassing Ambitions, Barry Sanders, Rock Gods, & Loving Life <img src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTqT9atJEG0C6q91k0iV-KAD--ALFZ-fBY_X0n457AWafY_AmpjcA" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" /><br><br><p class="MsoNormal">I remember being 13, football tucked firmly between forearm and chest, and running through the house like Barry Sanders. A fake against the loveseat in the living room, a spin move off the dining room table, and a dive into the couch in the den – TOUCHDOWN. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>Though I had nowhere near the physical gifts of Barry Sanders: there was soooooo much fun in pretending I did. There was an extreme amount of joy in those unrealistic daydreams.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>Fast forward 24 year and I can embarrassingly admit that I still have those kinds of day dreams.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In my next life – I want to be a Rock Star. Yes, I said it. I want to be a rock star, a guitar god, a technician on the strings, a dude who walks around with his shirt open and a Gibson strapped to his back. – that’s what I daydream about.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I air-guitar in the car to Jimi Hendrix at stop lights, I nod my head in rhythm to Gary Clark Jr. as I edit photos, and I might even pull out the air guitar at the gym while listening to the White Stripes. This embarrassing ambition actually drove me to buy a guitar and amp that I still have no idea how to play.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>Of all the things on my “bucket list” – being a master rock ’n’ roll guitarist is at the top of the list. The thing is: there is not time to invest in this dream. Not necessarily to be a “star” but to really, really learn how to play that guitar. There is just too much on my plate to try to add that in and commit to it. I mean you only can chase to man dreams at once or none of them will come to fruition. <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now I know you’re asking, “Isn’t this childish?” “How is this mentally helpful?”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>Well I’m not quite sure how to answer that but there is something inspiring about my crimson and gold colored guitar sitting in the corner of my office. I always get an insanely weird feeling of “youth” and “hope” when I’m pretending that’s me playing “Voodoo Child.” My rock star dreams aren’t money driven or fame drive. It’s just an desire to be the master of my favorite instrument. It just intrigues me and inspires me so much that I can love something that I have no idea how to do. It’s a mental escape, relief, and my own little world. I think we all need something like this in our lives.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>So I stare at the guitar in my office and tell her, “One day baby, I’m gonna’ make you cry so good, so damn good…” <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3914642013-03-21T10:30:00-04:002022-02-26T15:56:09-05:00Role Models, Examples, Giving, and Hard Work <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/7701c7a5fb25dc23d47406262d670ed5bab81acd/medium/kahn-and-ny.jpg?1377795552" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="339" width="300" /><br><br>
I’m far from a perfect father and I don’t claim to know everything about parenthood or raising children. But I do understand the importance of setting “examples.” I understand because my grandparents were awesome examples. The main constant with both of them is that they always treated everyone with a lot of respect, dignity, and class. Now that’s not to say everyone deserved that respect-lol! My grand ma had to be the most “giving” person ever invented. It seemed that during the holidays every one of her friends was worthy of a pound cake or a sweet potato pie and she must have had at least 90 God children.
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My grandfather never took anything personal as long as it wasn’t meant to be personal. He always got along with the neighbor or church member that nobody else could seem to get along with. Because of his nature – he was often asked to take leadership positions within the various organizations he was involved in. I observed this behavior year after year. I even told my grand my one day that she was wayyyyyyyy too nice to people.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There were plenty more but I’ll stop there………</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So here I am, 36 years old, man of the house, father to my 4 children, and trying to move carefully to set the proper examples. I make it a known fact that I work hard and that I’ve worked hard to build my photography business. They are pretty used to seeing me shoot, have consultations, and basically “take care of business.” They see/know that I love their mother. She consistently gets a lion’s share of flowers, edible arrangements, and cards weather it’s the holiday or not. She gets hugged and kissed before I leave and when I come home. Though; like other marriages we do have “our moments” – they’ve never seen/heard me called her a profane name or hit her in any way. I try to make sure my children see me as a strong black man who is responsible, caring and again "hard working."</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">They also know/see that I hit the gym regularly and take my fitness and nutrition very seriously. They know I make all my meals for the week and when mom orders pizza; they see dad take his slice(s) and put them in the freezer for the next cheat day-lol!</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I guess basically I’ve always wanted my children to see me as a hard worker. Whether it’s a day job, photographer, journalist, poet, or the gym – they know dad likes to work hard. They know dad has a strong commitment to determination and meeting his goals. I know they may not actually comprehend allllll these things right now but hopefully when they face their own challenges and struggles as they get older – they can reflect on dad’s work ethic, and maybe even get a little inspiration from it the same way I get inspired thinking about my grandparents.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There are other things I do to set example but “determined” is the one I want them to remember and see the most the same way the main thing I remember about my grandparents is how nice and giving they were to people</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not sure what the future holds for the next generation. I don’t know what the best business to start will be, the best careers to go into, or the best degrees to get. But regardless, an extreme amount of self-determination and hard work will be needed to navigate through it.</p><p></p>
<br><br type="_moz">Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3627362013-03-12T07:52:51-04:002023-05-31T15:00:13-04:00Walk, Sprint, Just Don’t Run……..<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/7e29ba9545357446990d28b949d20b9b123cbe92/original/running2.jpeg?1377795551" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="224" width="220" /><br><br>
I remember the brief period 12 years ago or so when I got great enjoyment out of distance running. I would get off work, drive downtown to Belle Isle and start jogging. Its 5.2 miles all the way around and I’ve been able to go around twice. My goal was too eventually to work my way up to 20-30 miles and run a marathon. I loved the solace and meditative aspects of it. I got a lot of thinking done on those long runs. And if this is the reason why you run? – Than it should be the ONLY reason! <br><br>
Do I still run for distance? Hell no!<br><br>
Why? Because I was more concerned about body composition this time around rather than just “losing weight.” So I do 2 things: I walk and I sprint.<br><br>
1. Sprinting was a no brainer for me. I mean just watch the male/female sprinters at any Olympics- they look awesome. In sprinting; you’re running 60 or 100 yards at your maximum capacity. You’re going all out. You’re making fast twitch muscle fibers pop, your nervous system is being tested, and your heart and entire cardiovascular system is being challenged. Sprinting is a staple of High Intensity Cardio. A few rounds of sprinting and you’ll burn fuel all day.<br>
2. I wasn’t a believer in “walking” until I starting doing it. Setting the treadmill at 3.5 in front of the TV worked miracles for me. The beauty of walking is that it doesn’t burn muscle, and it’s easy. Your body can/will get used to it; but that’s when you can switch it up by holding weights or using the incline.<br>
3. Why not long distance running? Well the main reason is that I didn’t want to look like a long distance runner. Long distance running is also extremely stressful on joints, ligaments, and your heart. And when it comes to weight loss – the more you do it: the more your body gets used to it and it becomes harder shed body fat and preserve muscle. Like I said – I’ve never seen a physique on a marathon runner that I admired or wanted.<br><br>
Notes and Tid-Bits<br><br>
-Don’t Sprint on an empty stomach.<br>
-Try maybe 6 rounds of sprinting one of two days a week with a 2 minute rest in between sprints (never back to back days).<br>
-Best time to “walk” is in the am before you eat.<br>
-I always sleep better if I do 30 minutes of walking late evening.<br>
-You can also walk for 30 minutes after a meal <br>
-For optimal results – do some heave hex-bar deadlifts or heavy barbell squats followed immediately by sprints. <br>
-If you’re limiting your carbs – than be careful doing multiple sets of sprint<br>
-Always try to fit at least 30 minutes of walking after weight training.<br>
-If you walk at a track – try to keep your pace consistent.<br><br>
Again, no scientific studies and exercise logs. You can hit me up privately if you need details that specific. I am not a doctor, personal trainer, health guru, nutrientalist, dietician, or mastermind. In the grand scheme of things – I’m a nobody; a regular guy who figured out what works for me and maybe it will work for you. We are all made different with different metabolisms, genders, birth dates, different genetic/medical histories, and different body types. You have to make/learn what works for you.<br><br>
Just Live……..<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/26f15260a489ceee946a4a8dfeaa626d6d827448/medium/running1.jpg?1377795551" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="408" width="300" />Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3524292013-03-08T04:25:00-05:002013-03-08T04:25:00-05:00Mother, Death, What Ifs, & Purpose<p class="MsoNormal"><img src="https://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/58206_428046612186_3585385_n.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" /><br><br>
I can’t tell you what my mother’s voice sounded like. I can’t tell you what her hugs, kisses, or affection felt like. I was too young to remember the love in the whispers that exhaled through her lungs. I don’t remember any of her bad habits, her slang, her corniness, or her perspectives. Everything that I know about her are composed of stories told to me repeatedly by family, and the various letters, pictures, and objects that were all hers. She is make-believe to me; an imaginary person given birth to in my thoughts. I also can’t tell you that any of this ever bothered me growing up.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I cringe every time I hear about a child’s parents being killed. I often say a prayer for the child and those that will care for that child. Any one that has heard my testimony of my parents deaths usually say/ask things like, “How did you get through all of that?” or “You’re so strong.”</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Honestly; they’re “deaths” never really bothered me until I reached my 20s and was really able to comprehend how much different my life could have been. My grandparents had done such a good job of being “parents” that it wasn’t until my grandfather died when I was 23 that I really felt “alone” for the first time and truly understood that the main people who loved me (parents & grandparents) were now gone and there was no one else to place the “mom & dad” hat on.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For the last 15 years there hasn’t been one day I haven’t thought about my mother. I’ve imagined us talking, role-played conversations, and wondered what kind of advice she would have given me. I’ve considered seeing a physic to help me communicate with her on the other side (seriously), I’ve stared at her photos for hours, wondered what characteristics in the gene pool my children inherited from her, and “What ifed” myself to no end. All things I rarely did throughout my adolescence. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>The point here? Well it’s about how we all deal with death, the unknown, and its longevity. Would my mother have raised me different my grandparents? Would I have still ended up being a writer and photographer? Would her and my father have stayed together? Does she think I’m being a good father? Would her and my wife get along? Why didn’t I die? Have I found my sense of purpose? Why did God spare me? Is she proud of me?<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I understand that it’s impossible to answer these questions. I realize that I’m driving myself crazy looking for answers that can’t be found. But I also understand that these questions, my parents death – all make me - “Me.” I understand that most of my ambition, my drive, the way I turned hobbies to careers and goals to obsessions are all the result of those unanswered questions. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And to be honest; I’m still searching.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3494322013-03-07T05:25:00-05:002017-01-11T08:20:30-05:00Crying Son, Sacrificing life, business, Identify, and Being Happy<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/c22098f434884176880b350f43444dd38357124e/original/clip_image001.jpg?1372176965" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="282" width="425" /> <br><br><br><br>
I remember the day I went through my youngest son’s book bag when he 6 years-old. I found the usual - crayons, books, toys, and crumbs. As I looked through his school project folder I ran across a school assignment. It was a small stapled construction paper booklet in which he drew pictures of his emotions. When I turned to the page that read, “What makes me sad,” there was a drawn picture of him playing and crying while I was at my computer working. Talk about a guilt trip.<br>
That year was 2009 and I was knee deep in the busiest year ever for my photo biz. I had a person that would come over and do some retouching, a person that I contracted to photograph parties, showers, and formal business events. I photographed 55 weddings that year. I had Thursday weddings, Monday weddings, and Friday, Saturday and Sunday weddings. All that along with my steady supply of maternity sessions, seniors, consultations, and family sessions. Till this day that whole year is a big blur for me – all I remember is sitting at a computer or looking into a view finder.<br><br>
At the time; I thought I had made it. I figured that this is what I had always wanted. I wanted the phone to ring non-stop, I wanted retouchers and photographers working for me, and I wanted to make as much money as possible. At the expense of seeing my wife and kids – I was doing all of those things.<br><br>
It goes back to a Tony Robbins quote/question, “Are you sacrificing too much of your life to be who you want to be?”<br><br>
I was. And it took 3 years for me to really, really/fully realize it. 2010 and 2011 came and went. I wasn’t as busy but still did good. Though I had more time to spend with the family; I was also racking my brain to figure out how to get back what I had in 2009. Thennnn 2012 came and I was basically like “What the fuck just happened?!” Though my portraits sessions were wayyyyyy up – my weddings were wayyyyy down.<br><br>
Best thing that ever happened to me. I was actually able to see almost all of my oldest son’s AAU basketball games, was able to attend a lot my kids school functions, and just had more time to spend helping my wife run the household. I actually got to SEE what I had been missing.<br><br>
“Are you sacrificing too much of your life to be who you want to be?”<br><br>
So where am I now? Well, I refined/reevaluated my business plan and purpose. I redid my health goals and family goals. I’m happy where I’m at. I’ve found “balance.” Though my 2013 will be busier than 2012 I am 100 percent certain my youngest daughter (who will be 5 this year) will not be drawing a picture of herself crying because I won’t play with her. I can guarantee you that.<br><br><br><br type="_moz">Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3333962013-02-28T05:17:25-05:002013-02-28T05:17:25-05:00Hip-Hop, Fatherhood, Communication, & UnderstandingI could feel each and every eyeball analyzing me, reading me, trying to figure me out. I was at a LifeSkills school to talk and share poetry with the students. They all had “extreme” backgrounds – gangs, guns, drugs, and violence. And here I was – hoping one or two of the syllables that would spill from my mouth would be enough to make a difference. But did have a few things going for me - I looked like them. They had tattoos: I had tattoos. They listened to Dr. Dre, Jay Z, Snoop etc: I did too. They wore Roc-a-wear, Sean John etc: I did too. They’re parents or guardians passed away or weren’t around: me too.<br><br>
That was 8 years ago; I connected with them that day, ended up going back a couple of more times and did similar work at other community centers in the Detroit area. The lessons I learned all have stayed with me though parenthood.<br><br>
When I was 16 years old; I can’t say I had much in common with anyone that was twice my age. Older men didn’t listen to hip-hop nor did they dress like they listened to hop-hop lol. The men at LifeSkills understood that as well which is why they had me come in. I was only 29/30 years old – I could relate. <br><br>
Being a part of Generation X has changed things. My oldest son is 14; we listen to a lot of the same music and wear some of the same brands of clothing. We’re able to talk about DJing, emceeing, rapping, and life. We talk sports, history, and politics as well but it’s “Hip-hop” that has created the bridge between our ages and has helped enhance our bond. It’s normal to hear him reciting verses from Biggie’s “Ready to die” album (which came out when I was 17 years old). It’s actually pretty fun to explain/show him how hip-hop has progress and in some ways gone backwards over the years. But more importantly – it’s nice just to be able to “talk” to him. My grandfather told me stories of his youth. We talked sports, a little history, and current events. He was 56 years older than me – there weren’t many mutual mediums for us to explore together. We were from 2 different worlds – so my grandfather didn’t have the luxury I do now. It was yearssssssss before many of the lessons my grandfather taught me started to make sense. I’m hoping my children will listen to me a lot sooner, maybe avoid many of my mistakes.<br><br><br>
For years I wondered how could I best “change the world.” I’ve learned that influencing, communicating, and building my children might be the most revolutionary and influential thing I can do. <br><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3290342013-02-26T03:01:16-05:002017-01-11T08:20:29-05:00How It All Started Pt. 5 Weight Loss, Intermittent Fasting, The 8 Hour diet<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/a4ab6006f2e6ec0654ced15b670c6c91f5f7efac/original/paleo4.jpeg?1377795551" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="198" width="255" /><br><br><b>How It All Started Pt. 5 Weight Loss, Intermittent Fasting, The 8 Hour diet<br></b><br><b>What is it</b>- Intermittent Fasting is basically eating all of your meals inside of an 8-hour window. So ideally you would skip breakfast, eat your first meal at 12pm, eat again at some point, work out in the afternoon/evening and eat again at 8. Thus your body is fasting for 16 hours.<br><br><b>Why?</b> – According to studies and real life examples your body handles food much more efficiently when you don’t start eating till the middle of the day. Fasting throughout the morning (supposedly) keeps your body in more of a “fat-burning” zone. It’s not about cutting calories, so whatever you eat on a daily basis – you will still eat that same amount of food (just inside of an 8 hour window)<br><br><b>My Experience -</b> I was extremely skeptical about this because typically “not eating” is “not good for you.” The usual “Starvation” diet usually leads to muscle loss and expedited weight gain once you go back to eating like “normal.” But this was different. I played with eating windows – I did 10-6, 11-7, and 12-8. I did it every day for a week, sometimes 3 times a week, sometimes once a week. I was really trying to see did it make sense to do this.<br><b><br>
The Positives-</b> Yes it works. Specifically on my non-weightlifting days where I just do cardio in the morning. Typically I would get up at 6, do an hour “walking” on the treadmill, I would get a hunger pain around 11, but I would hold off eating the first meal ‘till 12. It seems doing to cardio “fasted” and skipping breakfast really forces your body to pull from that stored fat for energy. What I liked about skipping breakfast was that once I ate my first meal at 12 – I really was never extremely hungry through the rest of the day. I wasn’t hurting for food-lol<br><br><b>The Negatives</b> – When I tried 10-6 or 11-7; I usually sleep terrible. Either I was going to the bathroom too much (not enough “recent” food intake to hold on to the water in my body) or I just kept waking up (though I didn’t feel hungry, my body was looking for food, this is a common side effect.) So for that reason I always ate my last meal at 8 or even 9pm. Also, it didn’t seem to make sense to do this after my morning weightlifting sessions. Because I work out pretty hard – my body “needs” food as soon as I finish. Waiting till 12 was not optimal.<br><br><b>Summary</b> – This is not something you should do every day and it’s not something you should do if you’re looking to build muscle. But if you can stand to skip breakfast a few times a week and make lunch your first meal; than go ahead give it a shot.<br><br><i>Again: I am not a doctor, personal trainer, health guru, nutrientalist, dietician, or mastermind. In the grand scheme of things – I’m a nobody; a regular guy who figured out what works for me and maybe it will work for you. We are all made different with different metabolisms, genders, birth dates, different genetic/medical histories, and different body types. You have to make/learn what works for you.<br></i><br><b>Eat to live not live to eat folks<br></b><br>
K<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3273372013-02-25T05:44:07-05:002017-01-11T08:20:29-05:00How It All Started Pt. 4 Weight Loss, My 5 Years Spent as a Vegetarian <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/528d104cd2e7e86783677cc36d595342453eddca/original/paleo5.jpeg?1377795551" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="183" width="275" /><br><br><br>
From the end of 1999 through 2005 I was pretty strict Vegetarian. Like a lot of things in my life I was kind of going through a transition. I had found a new church home, became a lot less materialistic, stopped using profanity (that didn’t last long-lol), started to really go through a spiritual cleansing, and turning into a vegetarian seemed to fit.<br><br><b>Why did it seem to fit?<br></b><br>
Because I was applying a false train of thought. I was trying to “cleanse” myself and I “figured” meat was dirty, it was processed in dirty factories, its full of chemicals, and it rotted in your body. I was not fat, wasn’t into lifting weights (just some mild distance running) so I didn’t have any physique goals. I wasn’t trying to understand protein to fat to carb ratios. I wasn’t concerned about building muscle, manipulating insulin, or just trying to get stronger. My daily food intake was all veggies pasta dishes, fruits, salads, Boca burgers, and veggie pita dishes. I thought I was being “healthy.”<br><b><br>
What happened?<br></b><br>
Well I started to gain weight. Lol Though that wasn’t the only reason, it was just a part of a series of actions. I had stopped doing all physical activities or exercise, my lifestyle was extremely sedentary, and I was eating tons and tons of carbs every day. The only reason I stopped was because I got tired of being the only person in the household who didn’t eat meat.<br><br><b>What do I think now?<br></b><br>
While I had good intentions – I was pretty stupid and immature in my decisions. I only read 1 or 2 books about being a vegetarian and considered myself an expert. I now understand the importance of the amino acids that come from animal proteins, how animal protein is extremely superior to plant proteins, how soy is bad for you, animal fat is not bad for you, and the importance of wild caught fish, free range chickens, and grass feed cows. <br><br>
I researched the digestive system in humans and other animals. How humans, lions etc. were made to “eat/digest” meat and how if lions had to live on cellulose (grass and veggies) –they would starve. How cows have a “ruminant” digestive systems and were made to eat grass. I’ve researched the diets of the caveman, paleo-man, and whatever else man you can show me-lol. They all ate meat. There are certain animals that will always need to be eaten by other animals and other animals that will always need to eat other animals. This is life, the food-chain, the eco-system, the story of herbivores and carnivores and a cycle that humans are involved in just as much as the animals.<br><b><br>
In Summary<br></b><br><br>
I just look at it as a maturity. Back then at 23 years-old I understood food/health/diet a certain kind of way. Now that I’m older – I understand it a differently now, more better, no assumptions in my approach; just well researched facts. <br><br>
This time around – my goals were different. I wanted to burn body-fat, build muscle and get healthy. There is no way I could have done that without eating meat. I mean I “guess” you could be a vegetarian and rely on protein shakes for your protein intake. But I can’t/couldn’t. Like anything else – it all comes down to what your goals are.<br><br><br><b>Eat to live not live to Eat folks<br><br></b><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3213762013-02-21T03:37:04-05:002017-01-11T08:20:29-05:00How It All Started Pt. 3 Weight Loss, Low Fat diets, and how Fat won’t make you Fat<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/09e95921f9d33d491ee1e352134acead30a69114/original/paleo2.jpeg?1377795551" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="239" width="211" /><br><br>
It was an everyday ritual; a memory embedded in the cement of my childhood memories. Every night after dinner, my grandmother would pull out the slippery/slimy bottle of Cod Liver Oil, pour it in a tablespoon, hold it slightly over the sink, and call my name. I reluctantly would get up, slowly walk to the spoon oozing thick and smelling like fish, and take one big gulp. YUK! <br><br>
My grand ma had one phrase – “<i>This will make you smart.”<br></i><br>
My grandmother cooked every day and almost the same things every week or so. Thursdays were always fish days - Fried White Bass, Perch, Cod, or homemade Salmon patties (my least favorite). Some Thursdays I was in the mood for fish and some I weren’t. But getting up from the table without leaving an empty plate was not an option.<br><i><br>
“Finish that plate Santo (my grand ma’s nickname for me), this will make you smart.”<br></i><br>
I’m sure some of you have similar stories and guess what- Our Grandmothers Were Right! Lolol<br><br>
Now before I go on I want everyone to stand up and say this statement 25 times<br><br><u><b>-FATS WON’T MAKE ME FAT-<br></b></u><br><b>History</b>: For whatever reason the US government decided that “fat” was the main problem with our diets and the consumption of “fat” will lead to obesity and all the aliments that come with being obese. Thus “Fat-Free” foods are a billion dollar a year industry.<br><br><b>Why They Were Wrong –</b> The human body actually “needs” fat. 60 percent of your brain is made up of Fats. They are essential to your brain function. You need fats to build muscle, you need fats to lose weight, you need fats to focus/concentrate, and you need fats for energy. Like I said in a previous post – when the caveman/Paleo man went hunting for food – they didn’t throw away the skin and the fat. They ate the whole damn animal.<br><br><u><b>-FATS WON’T MAKE ME FAT-<br></b></u><br><b>How They Were Right</b> – Every year you will always hear or a new study saying that egg yolks or red meat is bad for you and will lead to cancer. The problem with the meat industry in this country is that animals are feed all the wrong things (along with the drugs they are given to grow fast). Cows eat grass, chickens eat bugs, and fish eat other fish. It’s as simple as that. Cows and chicken are routinely given corn/grains for food. They eat, they grow, and they get slaughtered, and processed. The problem is that when you give an animal food it’s not supposed to eat – it changes the fat composition. This is why we have the term Omega-6 fats. When cows eat grass they produce Omega-3 fats (which are good for you). When they eat corn/grain they produce Omega-6 fats (which should be avoided or limited). This is also the reason fish-oil supplements are still recommended – it’s to balance out the Omega-6 to Omega-3 ratio. If all you eat is grass feed cows, fish, and cage free chickens – then you don’t need fish-oil pills (in my opinion of course). I could get into Trans, Monounsaturated, and Polyunsaturated fats but that’s for another (and much longer) blog post. The point here is to eat healthy fats whenever possible<br><br><b>-FATS WON’T MAKE ME FAT-<br></b><br><b>Why Avoid Fat-Free Foods?</b> - Next time you’re at the market look at the ingredients of low-fat cheese. You might see “corn-syrup dried” or “corn-syrup solids.” This is the problem – companies take the “fat” out and put a “sugar” in. If your choice is “Fat” or “Sugar” – always go for the fat. This means pork/turkey skins instead of chips. Beef Jerky instead of donuts – see where I’m going with this?????????<br><br>
-<u><b>FATS WON’T MAKE ME FAT-<br></b></u><br><b>What I Did </b>- First thing I did was I started thinking “grams not calories.” I try to take in .5 grams of fat per every pound of body weight. So for me it’s usually 100 grams of fat. It’s not hard to obtain because fats are wayyyyyyyyyy more dense then carbs (they add up quick!) So I usually have 1 fatty meal a day (chicken with skin on it, or a beef) and the rest of my fats are from coconut oil (marinade), olive oil salad dressing, nuts, and avocado oil. Sometimes I go lower than 100 grams and sometimes I go higher – all depends if it’s a work-out day or not.<br><br><b>Notes and Tid-bits<br></b><br>
-Notice I didn’t say you can’t lose weights cutting fats out – it’s just a lot harder and very unhealthy. After all – you are taking a way a valuable fuel source for the body.<br>
-Unless you plan on getting on stage for a bodybuilding or physique show – there is no real reason to cut fat too low.<br>
-Again always look at every label before you buy food. Look at the ingredients first and the grams of carbs, protein, and fats second. Don’t worry about the calories.<br>
-Fats will make you full. If you want – eat your fatty meat as the last meal of the day. You won’t get hungry later on.<br>
-If you’re out and fast-food is your only option – just order a burger or grilled chicken sandwich without the bun. The sugars, gluten, and carbs in the bun are wayyyyyyyyyy worse than the omega-6 fats and chemicals in the meat. (in my opinion of course)<br><br><b>Again</b>: I am not a doctor, personal trainer, health guru, nutrientalist, dietician, or mastermind. In the grand scheme of things – I’m a nobody; a regular guy who figured out what works for me and maybe it will work for you. We are all made different with different metabolisms, genders, birth dates, different genetic/medical histories, and different body types. You have to make things work for you.<br><br><b>Eat to live not live to eat folks<br><br></b>K<br><br><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3198482013-02-20T07:30:00-05:002017-01-11T08:20:29-05:00How It All Started Pt. 2 Weight Loss, Keto, Paleo, & Everything in Between<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/0938b079cf844f448a19466fc51a687a402f194a/original/Unknown.jpeg?1377795551" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" /><br><b><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(53, 53, 53); ">Preface</span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(53, 53, 53); ">: I am not a doctor, personal trainer, health guru, nutrientalist, dietician, or mastermind.In the grand scheme of things – I’m a nobody; a regular guy who figured out what works for me.</span>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">You can all it a Ketogenic diet, a Paleo Diet and some think it’s the Atkins diet but it generally means one thing- Cut the Damn Carbs and don’t be afraid of fat.</font></font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><b><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">The HISTORY</font></font></b><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">- Cavemen (Paleolithic) had very few carbs a million years ago. They hunted and gathered all day and ate in the evening. This was the time before grains when the main sources of carbs were nuts, vegetables, and fruits. This meant the primary source of nutrition was protein and animal fats. Since there were no ways to store meat- it had to be eaten ALL (and the fur cold be used for fabric). Whole Grains and the need to put sugar in EVERYTHING would come along later in mankind and be the anchor of obesity in the western culture.</font></font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><b><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">WHAT I DID-</font></font></b><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif"> First remember this mantra - “Cut Down then Cut Out.”</font></font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">I started lightly. First I cut all pop, junk, and high calorie bread (dropped 10 pounds in the first month. However I was still eating low calorie bread, pasta, oatmeal, apples, rice and baked potatoes. Once weight loss slowed: I cut down and cut more out. I even cut out carrots and tomatoes because of the sugar content. I cut out all fruit. I cut, cut, and cut ‘till all my carbs were coming from just spinach, kale, broccoli, green peppers, green beans, and nuts. All the other stuff I saved/save for cheat meals or cheat days.</font></font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><b><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">WHY</font></font></b><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif"> – Carbs and sugar spike insulin and insulin tells your body to store fat. This is the most basic reason to incorporate this diet. I could go on and on about further health benefits but thats for a later day.</font></font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><u><b><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Notes/Tidbits</font></font></b></u><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif"> </font></font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif"> -There are essential proteins and fats but not carbs. You don't just “have” to have them in an abundance amount.</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">I can see how some folks would say I went to an extreme on this diet; however I wanted/want extreme results. I'm sure many of you will be able to get away eating an apple a day or blueberries and oatmeal. Me- I couldn't do it.</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Cheat days are important because one of the negative aspects of eating like this is that your metabolism will eventually slow down. A good cheat meal/cheat day will speed it up!!</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Always plan a cheat day after your workout</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Drink a lot of water.</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"> <font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Don't worry about sodium/salt intake because with no carbs – your body can't hold on to salt/sodium anyway (thus why you should keep water intake high).</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">When you first start - you will crave carbs and sugar badly. FIGHT IT. Lol</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Your body has 2 sources of energy – stored fats and carbs. But cutting your carb intake you are forcing your body to pull from stored fats for energy. Thus you should get cleaner.</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Eat wild caught fish and grass feed beef. You want FATS! Just the good kind (Omega 3) and not the bad kind (Omega 6s)</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Ok thats it – I'm probably starting to bore you.</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><font color="#353535"><font face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Take care and eat to live not live to eat</font></font></p>
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Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3175452013-02-19T05:20:00-05:002017-07-27T18:30:46-04:00How It All Started Pt. 1 Weight Loss, Brain Dump, Clean Slate, & Poetry.<p>I<span class="font_large"> remember the days leading up to my first poetry workshop with my mentor Vievee Francis. All I could think about was the mandate she gave me. “Kahn; you’re going to have to forget everything you know and everything you’ve learned about poetry for this to work.” I didn’t understand then, but it makes sense now. I was going to her to learn and grow –not to play point/counterpoint, to disagree, or to give unnecessary opinions. I emptied out my brain, turned it into an unfilled sponge and absorbed every lesson, every workshop, and criticism with vigor.<br><br>7 years later I found myself approaching my good friend and bodybuilding guru Julian Palm about getting serious about losing weight. It was deja vu as he basically told me the exact same thing Vievee Francis had told me years earlier – I would have to empty out my brain of everything I had ever learned about nutrition and exercise.<br><br>I would have to understand that the “Food Pyramid” was bullshit, a doctor and a dietician are 2 different people, low-fat diets do more harm than good, fruit can work against you more than it can work for you, weights are just as important as cardio equipment, long walks can be better than long runs for overall body composition, abs are created in the kitchen-not the gym, sugar was the devil, and wheat/white bread is the devil’s wife (lol).<br><br>Again, I let everything go. I didn’t hold on to any previous knowledge. I let my brain start from scratch. Now, I also didn’t just follow advice blindly. I started doing my own reading and my own research – thus; greatly improving my own foundation of nutrition and fitness knowledge. I basically learned “WHY” I was doing everything I was doing. This is important because I know plenty of women who do everything their personal trainer tells them to do without trying to acquire any knowledge themselves. I did the opposite -Julian wasn’t personal training me; he was more of an advisor that I bugged the shit out of every single day(Lol). He showed me where to find the bricks and mortar and I built the house. But again; this wouldn’t have been possible if I had not realized that I had no idea how to build a house.<br><br>Even now: every month my bookshelf adds another book or two, everyday there is another nutritional or fitness article added to my files. What started as just a study into carbs, fats and protein has become an education in nutrient portioning, hormone optimization, fasting, food timing, genetic influences, insulin sensitivity & etc…<br><br>Overall it’s about recognizing goals and situations where you have to take off your “know-it-all-cap.” A lot of times having “experience” is an attribute. But there are other times when you have to let the baggage go and be a clean slate in order to grow.</span><br><br> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3129702013-02-15T07:40:00-05:002013-02-15T07:40:00-05:00Marriage, Perfection, Requirements, Faults and Getting BetterThough I love my wife, I do forget to tell her on an everyday basis. Not because I’m negligent, but more because I take it for granted that we will see each other the next day. I leave my shoes in the middle of the floor sometimes. I forget to cut off the lights in the basement. I hide food. Some days I just don’t/won’t clean up. When I “put things up” – I usually end up forgetting where I put them. Some days I get so caught up in ambition that my wife may not get a decent dose of quality time from me. Some nights I fall asleep on the couch. Other nights I fall asleep while she’s talking to me. I’m not a “bad” husband, I’m just not perfect. And thank God my wife doesn’t require me to be.<br><br>
Now she does complain about these things and I’ve become a hell of a lot better at than when we were first married. But at this point in our marriage – all of our faults are known and have been acknowledged. I could easily run down a list of all my positive attributes but this blog post is not about patting myself on the back, it’s about always trying to be better.<br><br>
There is no such thing as a “perfect” marriage. However you can still work towards “perfection.” I will always have my faults. I will always do things that will make my wife question my common sense and my sanity and my wife will always have certain pet-peeves of mine as well. We both expect such. But; at the same time – we both appreciate the work that we both have had to summoned from within ourselves to keep growing as a couple.<br><br>
That’s why stagnation in marriage is a bad thing. It means you’re standing still and not progressing. <br><br>
I guess the main point I want you guys to take from this is that you can still be appreciated without being perfect and you have to have the mind-state that you’re going to “work towards perfection” even though you won’t necessarily become perfect.<br><br>
My marriage is not perfect. It’s not required to be, but I dare you to find a married man as happy as me or works as hard as me.<br><br><br><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3110932013-02-14T05:10:00-05:002013-02-14T05:10:00-05:00Daughters, Daddy, Valentine’s Day, Communication, and Relationships<p>I have four children – 2 boys and 2 girls. I love them all and have been doing/trying to build/maintain strong communication and relationships with them both. I’ll be honest – It’s much easier with boys than girls-lol.<br><br>
Boys haven’t changed too much over the years. We like sports, video games, music, cars and girls. Though my sons are into things much earlier than I was; I still have had the same experiences. I can relate to them and have sturdy relationships with them both.<br><br>
My daughters are harder. I was never a girl-lol. I never played with dolls, kitchen sets, or make-ups kits. I never switched up my wardrobe 3 times while getting ready for school or had to worry about my hair. Girls are from a totally different planet which means trying to communicate in a genuine manner is a bit trickier. I watch TV with them, play with toys, cook with them but rarely have deep moments of reflection and introspection the same way I do with my boys. While I can bond with the boys over the NBA finals it’s not quite the same with the Disney channel. They’re young (4 & 11) so I have plenty of time and I “know” I will develop great relationships with them because I’m committed to doing so.<br><br>
But right now – I get to be “daddy,” I get to be their hero. So I constantly focus on setting a good example. They see their mother get kissed when I get home every day, they see doors opened for their mother, and flowers/candy delivered weather it’s a holiday or not. Their mother is my queen and both of them are princesses.<br><br>
So today – they will get spoiled with candy, gift cards, hallmark cards, other treats and a personal love letter from Dad. My standard of how a man should treat a woman is set and will continue to be maintained. No little boyfriend with bad habits, a deep voice, and a fancy car will ever take my place. They won’t impress easy and completely understand what “love” is because they will see it in action every single day.<br>
</p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3095832013-02-13T05:20:00-05:002013-02-13T05:20:00-05:00Effort and Results are Two Different Things.There’s a man around the same age as me that works out at the gym the same hours I do (early a.m.). He hits every machine in the gym twice, he sweats non-stop, he drinks his water, he does his cardio, his ab work, he’s friendly, and extremely dedicated. The problem is that he does pretty much everything wrong. Most mornings I try to avoid watching him for fear of laughing at him or for fear that will eventually kill himself. I’ve tried to offer a little advice but he just shrugs it off.<br><br>
Effort and Results are Two Different Things.<br><br>
While I was attending community college trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grow up, I met a cat named Gary. Gary was a math and engineering major but dropped out because he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps to be a car mechanic. Now this guy absolutely loved cars. Give him 10 minutes with your car and he could point out all the negatives and positives. He had subscriptions to every car magazine on the planet and his backyard was full of “projects.” In fact he was the guy that you take to the auto-parts store because he usually knew more than the guys that worked there. The problem was that Gary was terrible with his hands and had no coordination. <br><br>
Though Gary could tell you how to install a muffler, brakes, transmission, and drop an engine- him actually doing it was not a pretty sight. He constantly tripped over his tool box, used the wrong tools, and just took too long. It was like his hands could not understand what his brain was telling them to do! I love the guy to death and he was extremely knowledgeable but I always feared that he was wasting that knowledge chasing something he was not cut out to do. I tried to hint around about him returning to school but he was so passionate about opening his “garage.”<br><br>
Effort and results are two different things.<br><br>
I’m not throwing these two individuals under the spotlight to make a mockery of them. I just wanted to use them as an example that just because you’re “working hard” doesn’t mean you’re actually working towards your goals. There comes a point where you just have to examine your goals and say to yourself; “Am I good at this?” “Will I ever be good at this?” and “What will it take to get great at this?” <br><br>
I always advocate living your life with PASSION! But that passion can’t be blind. If you keep making the same mistakes, if you keep coming across the same bumps in the road – there comes a time in which you have to make sure you’re on the “right road.” If not, you’ll keep wasting good effort on dreams unfulfilled. And when dreams go unfulfilled for long periods of time – it’s usually hard to figure out "why" when you get to looking back on things.<br><br>
Don’t be a prisoner of hope. Don’t let blind passion shield you from the most important thing. <br><br>
Results.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/3077942013-02-12T04:50:00-05:002013-02-12T04:50:00-05:00You’re Starting point, Photography, DJing, Weight Loss, and BusinessI remember when I first decided I wanted to make photography more business than pastime. I tore through articles in various trade magazines and ran up a high credit card bill ordering software and miscellaneous photo equipment that I “thought” I needed.<br><br>
I also had a friend who started a DJ business around the same time and spent all his paychecks on lighting equipment and multiple speakers to go along with the basic stuff he already had. After his first few paid gigs – he learned he didn’t need half the stuff he bought and it was too much hassle to bring along anyway. Additionally, I know a videographer that has a several items on EBAY that he bought when he first started out.<br><br>
All of us shared the same issue – we didn’t understand our starting point. Or; as the older folks say; we put the “carriage before the horse.”<br><br>
Knowing how to do something and actually “knowing”…….how to do something to make money are two different things. When I started my photo biz; I felt I was pretty camera savvy. Well I wasn’t, because if I was – I wouldn’t have purchased 5 grand worth of equipment that I didn’t need. Now it wasn’t that they weren’t useful items, but they were items that I need “yet” at that point in my businesses or just items that weren’t necessary at all.<br>
Part of mastering your craft is knowing how to do it with “just the basics”. It’s an architect who just needs graph paper and a ruler, a cook who can walk in any kitchen and make a 5 star dish, or an artist who just needs a pencil and construction paper. <br><br>
You have to know your starting point.<br><br><br>
The exact same can be said for weight-loss. A person who is carrying 25 percent body-fat with an unhealthy diet will drop 10-15 pounds quickly once they cut out pop and fast-food. But a person who is at 15 percent body-fat and drinks/eats pop and fast-food occasionally will not see the same kind of results if they drop it. Both individuals have 2 different starting points.<br><br>
When I began my weight loss quest – I cut things slowly, over months and months. Pop was the first thing to go, high gluten bread was the next, 35 calorie bread was the next, processed meats was the next, cereal bars was the next, and etc………. I was not mature enough in my understanding of nutrition to just cut “everything” – so as I learned more, I cut more.<br><br>
I recognized my starting point.<br><br>
But recognizing your starting point in business caries a lot of weight because it can cost you thousands and thousands of dollars. I put myself in a lot of debt and burned through a lot of savings because I was too “eager.” I wanted my love for photography to go from “hobby” to “profession” in 7 days. I could fill up 30 spiral notebooks with all the mistakes I’ve made in my photo business as well as my poetry/writing career. Almost all of them were because I kept jumping the gun and just didn’t recognize my “starting point.”<br><br>
Again, I’m not a know-it-all. Just somebody who has made a ton of mistakes and wants to share so others won’t do the same.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2999252013-02-06T04:25:00-05:002019-10-22T07:50:05-04:00Parenting, Repetition, Lectures, & TalkingWhile telling my oldest son a random story from my past with a notable moral “point” at the end – he gave me the best response ever.<br><br>
“Dad, you’ve told me this story 100 times.”<br><br>
That was wonderful because it meant he was paying attention. I can recite word for word at least 12 stories my grandfather told me during the 22 years I was blessed to have him in my life. I will be honest – I know most of those stories because he kept retelling them, not because I was actually paying attention. It’s kind of like reading the same book of short stories everyday but not paying attention to the moral points of the book.<br><br>
It wasn’t until my grandfather died in 1999 that I actually started “listening” to those stories. As I was trying to figure out life in my 20s – it was those tales of hardship, trials, and error that provided a lot of guidance. <br><br>
There was the story about when power door locks were introduced at the factory and he couldn’t figure out how to install them. Lesson: It took weeks and months but he never gave up until he was the best power door lock installer in the plant.<br><br>
There was another one about being 13 years-old and avoiding the white lady’s granddaughter he was washing dishes for: Lesson –Some women are trouble!<br><br>
There was the one about being laid off from the plant and barely getting a temporary job at the post office: Lesson – Life will always find a way to kick you down, it’s up to you to get back up.<br><br>
So here I am; 36 years-young telling and retelling my son tales of missed opportunities, mistakes I learned from, and goals I achieved. I don’t bother to try to and make sure he’s listening. I figure if I tell him these stories enough times, get them ingrained in his head, – maybe one day he’ll come across a situation where he’ll need to apply one of dad’s stories.<br><br>
Kind of like I did.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2931942013-01-30T01:55:00-05:002014-06-25T22:07:35-04:00Smoking, Eating, My Grandfather, Cruises, and all things addictive<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">It was never fun going to the doctor's office with my grandfather but there was always the joke I waited for -</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Doc -”Mr. Smith have you ever smoked?<br>
”Granddad - “Yes.”<br>
Doc -”When did you quit Mr. Smith?”<br>
Granddad - “When they raised cigarettes to 49 cents a pack!”</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">And the doctor would drop the pen and we would all laugh. No matter which doctor – it was always a funny/fun moment.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The truth was my grandfather had actually caught phenomena in his 40s or 50s, couldn't smoke because of coughing, and didn't go back once he was better. Now this was a man that smoked since he was a teenager and had just “quit” in 7 days time.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Why can't everything be that easy? LOL</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I thought about him as I was on the Disney Cruise-ship serving myself pumpkin pie, ice cream strawberry cheesecake. It reminded me how addictive bad eating can be. But the difference between “eating” and “smoking” is that you “have” to eat. It means you constantly have to keep making the same good choices over and over and over again. You don't have to smoke. All you have to do is sustain the will power to keep from buying a pack of Kools with your diet Coke from the gas-station. But eating is a different beast – you have to eat every single day and you have to have self-control with every single meal. This means avoiding the bad stuff and not overeating the good stuff. Its tough!</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I once read about a man that was so addicted to sex that he would have sex with cracked out hookers and pull to the side of the road to masturbate. We all have heard tales of dugs addicts stealing from family and selling their bodies for drugs and others have let alcohol abuse ruin their lives.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I don't have any answers here; just observations. I've smoked and drank regularly but I never considered myself “addicted.” The one thing about smoking is that it was something I would turn too when I got extremely angry or sad. I had to replace that with the gym. I was addicted to bad eating because it was convenient and I was in a mind-state where my health and diet were not priorities.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">So bombarding myself with all the bad/sugary foods the cruise-ship had to offer reminded me of how easy it would be to undo all the progress I have made; how easy it is to eat “whatever you want.”</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Maybe one day, 30 years from now, the Doctor will ask me; “Mr. Davison – when was the last time you ate McDonalds?”</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">And I can say; “When Big Mac meals were 6 bucks!”</p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2867572013-01-23T04:15:00-05:002017-01-11T08:20:29-05:00Weight Loss Pt. 2 Routines, Cardio, Strength Training & Tid-Bits<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/1316c175f87f3c21db3d9509f19702681bed70c9/large/DSC_5358.JPG?1377795551" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="371" width="600" /><br><br>
Ok (this is going to be a long one), after many request; I am going to attempt to empty my brain out in this blog post of any and every relevant thing I know about diet, strength training, and cardiovascular conditioning. I am not by any means any kind of guru or personal trainer. Through a lot of research, I discovered what worked for “me.” So I’m sharing.<br><br>
First; a few tad and tid-bits…………..<br><br>
-If all you want to do is diet down for a cruise or a vacation – stop reading now.<br>
-If you think you can just workout for a few months, look good for facebook photos and stop- you’re wrong.<br>
-This is about doing an overhaul on how you live. This is about sipping on a diet coke while everyone else has beers and vodka (because the body metabolizes alcohol into a sugar and sugar is the enemy) at the bar.<br>
-This about drinking nothing but water every day and all day.<br>
-Have you ever seen the movie “Ground Hog Day?” I hope you have because it will become your life- the same foods everyday over and over and over again. The more consistent you become – the better your body will respond.<br><br><br><u><b>WORKOUT ROUTINE: <br></b></u><br>
I basically work each body part once a week, 3 exercises a body part (sometimes more). Arms, Back, Chest, Shoulders, and Legs each get at least 3 exercises dedicated to them on a weekly basis. I’m not going to get into particular exercises. There are enough youtube videos and magazines for that. Just be sure you never, ever, ever skip a workout and always hit the weights before cardio. For guys; this is a no brainer. For ladies: well I’ve noticed that some ladies don’t think it’s necessary to lift weights. This could not be further from the truth.<br><br>
A. Strength training is the best way to keep your kids from putting you in a nursing home when you become 69. A little bit of muscle goes a long way. I heard a radio show host say that, “Muscle is metabolic currency.” Meaning you want to save/gain muscle the same way you should save/gain money.<br>
B. Again, ladies; do not worry about putting on too much muscle. Lol If you were to see me with clothes on; all you would say is, “Kahn, you’re skinny.” Lol I’ve been hitting the gym hard hell and don’t have too much muscle or size to show for it. Lol It takes a 250lb bodybuilder years and TONS of food to get that size. Ladies” don’t worry about it.<br><br>
Next thing, change your routine up every 3 months – example <br><br><i>Jan/Feb/March <br></i><br>
Mon – Rest <br>
Tuesday-Chest<br>
Wed- rest <br>
Thurs-Legs<br>
Fri-Arms/shoulder<br>
Sat-<br>
Sun-Back<br><br><br><i>April/May/June<br></i><br>
Mon – Rest <br>
Tuesday-Chest/Back<br>
Wed- rest<br>
Thurs-Legs<br>
Fri-Arms<br>
Sat-<br>
Sun-Shoulder<br><br><i>Last couple of things:<br></i><br>
- don’t get caught up a bunch of ab workouts. Great abs are created in the kitchen, not the gym. I hit the crunch machine once every few weeks but my core work comes more from squatting and deadlifting.<br>
-Join the gym that fits your lifestyle. I belong to 2 gyms- Anytime Fitness because I need a gym that’s open 24 hours and it’s close to where some of my kids’ activities are. I also go to LA Fitness because it has more weight equipment and it’s also close to where my kids other activities are. If I miss a morning workout -I can drop my youngest son off at basketball practice, hit the gym, and come back and pick him up. See what I mean? You have to make it work. <br><br><br><u><b>CARDIO VASCULAR WORK<br></b></u><br>
This is more about lifestyle than what works. I’ve sprinted, pulled the sled, jumped rope, hit the boxing bag, threw the medicine ball against the gym wall, and pounded the medicine ball in the ground, etc…. All that was effective but it never really, really fit my lifestyle. I’m a “walking on the treadmill” guy. I’m not a walk around the track person. I don’t to classes, and I don’t do bikes. I’m not a fan of long distance running (anymore at least). I’m a treadmill walker, mostly because it fits my lifestyle. Let me explain.<br><br>
Every morning I wake my oldest son up at 6 am to get ready for school. While he’s getting ready – I’m on the treadmill for 60 minutes. I hope off at 7 and take him to school and I’m back home by 7:15 to finish my day. If I light weights, I go to the gym beforehand and I’m back home by 6 to wake him up. Every single day I walk that hour on the treadmill. It fits my lifestyle and it’s easy to manage. This is important because it was the last piece of the puzzle for me. While I had been doing cardio – I was never consistent with it. I would do all those things I listed above very sporadically. Walking that one hour on the treadmill is the one thing I knew I could make a mainstay in my schedule.<br><br><br><u><b>DIET</b></u><br><br>
Ok here we go. I believe in a low-carb approach to eating. 4-6 meals a day, high protein, medium fat, and low carb. I didn’t invent it, but I swear by it. If you google Paleo Diet or Keto Diet – you will get a better understanding. Wayyyyy better than I can explain.<br><br>
-If you are not a big meat eater, you will have a hard time adjusting to this. I understand, I was once a vegetarian. Even now, 90 percent of all the meat I buy comes from Michigan Farmers. All my beef is “grass feed,” all my fish is “wild caught” and all my chicken is “free range.” <br>
-Beef is not bad. The problem is that when you buy meat from a regular grocercey store- its cows that are feed grains. Cows should eat grass. When cows eat grains their omega 3 fats become omega 6 fats. If I’ve lost you, just look it up. Lol<br>
-Don’t try to cut everything all at once! I don’t hardly ever, ever heat bread now but that wasn’t the case in the early stages. I went from regular bread to low calorie bread and then cut bread out altogether. I went from pop to diet Snapple and then cut all juices out altogether. As you plateau – you will have to go over your diet and cut the stuff you don’t need.<br>
-I do occasionally snack. I usually got for Pork skins or Turkey peperoni. You won’t lose weight eating pork skins but you won’t gain weight either. Remember – Fat does not make you fat – bad carbs make you fat. <br>
-I only eat 3 forms of carbs – Sweet potatoes, Brown Rice, and Oatmeal (steel cut oats) <br>
-Have a cheat day every week, same day. It will keep you sane! I usually go for PIZZA. <br>
Just be sure to work out first!!!<br>
-Every Sunday I cook my meals for the entire week. I put a few bag in the fridge and the rest I put in the freezer (I use a Foodsaver). Remember: consistency is the key. Not missing cardio, not missing a workout, and eating the same foods is get you there.<br><br>
_______________________________________________________________________<br><u><b><br>
FOODS I EAT<br></b></u><br><u>6 oz Chicken Brest 1oz Almonds<br></u>180 Calories 170 Calories <br>
36 Grams of protein 15 grams of fat<br>
0 grams of fat 5 Grams of carbs <br><br><u>6 oz beef Egg<br></u>366 calories 6 grams of protein<br>
31 grams of protein 4 grams of fat <br>
25 grams of fat 70 Calories<br><br><u>Quest Bar Chicken Wing<br></u>200 Calories 74 Calories <br>
20 grams of protein 7 grams of protein <br>
22 grams of carbs 5 grams of fat<br>
9 grams of fat<br><br><u>Hormel Turkey Peperoni 1oz Chicken Thigh<br></u>34 slices 65 Calories <br>
160 calories 4 grams of fat<br>
18 grams of protein 6 grams of protein<br>
8 grams of fat<br><br><u>Cheese Slice Meijer Chicken Sausage<br></u>70 Calories 110 Calories<br>
4 grams of protein 1 grams carbs<br>
5 grams of fat 18 grams of protein<br>
5 grams of fat<br><br><u>Shake Isolyze/almd milk Trader Joes Turkey Bacon<br></u>140 Calories 30 Calories<br>
28 grams of protein 6 grams of Protein <br>
1 carbs 1.5 grams of Fat<br>
2.5 grams of Fat<br><br><u>Kroger Carbmaster Yogurt<br></u>60 Calories<br>
1.5 Grams of fat<br>
4 Carbs<br>
8 Grams of protein<br><br><u>Oatmeal<br></u>307 Calories<br>
44 Grams of Fat<br>
56 Grams of Carbs<br>
1 Grams of Sugar<br>
11 Grams of Protein<br><br><br><u>Sweet Potato<br></u>103 Calories<br>
1 Gram of fat<br>
24 Grams of Carbs <br>
7 Grams of sugar<br>
2 grams of protein<br><br><br><br><u><b>MY DAILY DIET MOST DAYS<br></b></u><br>
Pre work out 4:00/5:00 am<br>
Shake Isolyze/almd milk <br>
140 Calories <br>
28 grams of protein <br>
1 carbs <br>
2.5 grams of Fat<br><br><br><b>Post Work out- Meal 1 7:00/8:00 am<br></b>Kroger Carbmaster Yogurt<br>
60 Calories<br>
1.5 Grams of fat<br>
4 Carbs<br>
8 Grams of protein<br><br>
Shake Isolyze/almd milk <br>
140 Calories <br>
28 grams of protein <br>
1 carbs <br>
2.5 grams of Fat<br><br><b>Meal 2 10:00<br></b>6 oz Chicken Brest <br>
180 Calories <br>
36 Grams of protein <br>
0 grams of fat <br><br>
1oz Almonds<br>
170 Calories <br>
15 grams of fat<br>
5 Grams of carbs <br><br><b>Meal 3 1:00pm<br></b>6 oz beef (Or 6 Eggs) <br>
366 calories <br>
31 grams of protein <br>
25 grams of fat<br><br><b>Meal 4 4:00pm<br></b>6 oz Chicken Brest (Add mixed green salad) <br>
180 Calories <br>
36 Grams of protein <br>
0 grams of fat <br><br><b>Meal 5 7:00<br></b>Kroger Carbmaster Yogurt<br>
60 Calories<br>
1.5 Grams of fat<br>
4 Carbs<br>
8 Grams of protein<br><br>
Shake Isolyze/almd milk <br>
140 Calories <br>
28 grams of protein <br>
1 carbs <br>
2.5 grams of Fat <br><br><u><i><b>Macro-Nutrients breakdown<br>
254 Grams of protein<br>
55 grams of fat<br>
30 Grams of carbs<br>
2000 calories <br></b></i></u><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2859892013-01-22T07:15:00-05:002017-07-27T18:32:06-04:00Weight loss, Entrepreneurship, Creating, Mind Over Body, and Changing Goals<p> <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/58062/acbefe8114a85d00bce742a059ca056c99f512a0/large/DSC_4658.JPG?1377795551" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" /><br><br><br><span class="font_large">This blog post is not about low-fat diets, low-carb diets, insanity, cross-fit, work-out routines, or strength & conditioning training. That’s for a later date. This blog post is about consistency and basically making your mind up that you’re going to do something. Beginning in 2003; I gained 10 pounds a year for 7 years reaching my heaviest weight of 265/270 lbs. It wasn’t because my wife was cooking good for me (though she was), it wasn’t because I was lazy – it was because I was chasing other goals.<br><br>2003 was a year of new beginnings. I started growing dreadlocks, I was featured in a play, I was working on a movie script, I had just started writing for the Metro Times, I was traveling around the country participating in spoken work shows & slams, and my photography business was starting to climb out of its infant stages. My mind state could be summed up in one word: “create.” For the next 7 years that’s I wanted to do – “create, create, create.” Thus; most of my goals came to fruition (except for that damn movie script-lol)<br><br>The one thing I neglected was my health. I could have cared less about eating right or working-out because I was too damn busy “creating.” By early 2010 my focus left from “creating” to “how to make more money of my creations!” Half-way through the year I knew something had to change. My waist size was 42 inches; I snored loudly, had high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and was just flat out fat. I tired working out for a few months, loss ten pounds, stopped working out, and gained 15 pounds back in return.<br><br>2011 was the year it all changed. I consulted my good friend (who is a personal trainer) Julian Palm for guidance. I didn’t need him to actually train me; I just needed him to point me in the right direction and he did. I then decided it was time to go back to “creating.” Except this time, I would be creating a new me. Now let me say that never in any period of my life have I had what would be considered an admirable physique. I went form skinny, to flabby, to fat-lol. I’m not some high-school or college athlete that just tapped into my genetic God given body-lol. I’ve also lived several lives. I’ve been a vegetarian, a smoker, a drinker, and a chili fries & cheese sticks every night person.<br><br>Slowly but surely, day after day, I read, I hit the gym and I ate right. When I would plateau – I would refine my workout routine, read more, and refine my diet. I never, ever, ever, missed a workout. Not when the family went to Florida for vacation, not when the wife and I went to Mexico, never, ever, ever. Doesn’t matter if I had/have to get up at 4 am – I never miss workouts. I was determined to build myself the same way I had built my photography business.<br><br>I wanted to create.<br><br>The goal went from losing weight to trying to create an ascetically pleasing physique. If my goal would have stayed just “losing weight” – I could slowed down months ago. But that’s how goals work right? At first you just want to write a story and get it published, and they you want to turn the story into a novel and you want a big book deal! You may start off just going back to school to get a B.A., but soon realize that you won’t be satisfied until you get a P.H.D.<br><br>In order to see progress, you know only have to stick to your goals, but you have to change them. Also, in order to progress you have to establish balance. I know plenty of work-a-holic entrepreneurs who live off of caffeine and fast-food. Tunnel vision can work for you or against you.<br><br>Like I said, I love creating. And it’s never too late to create a new you. <br><br> </span></p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/589732013-01-18T05:15:00-05:002013-01-18T05:15:00-05:00The O.J. Truck, Snow Removal, Youth, and Eddie BauerI was 19 and had my sights dead set on an Eddie Bauer Ford Explorer. There was just one problem – I couldn’t afford one. I still figured I could use my hooptie as a down payment and figure out the rest later. <br><br>
While most car salesmen were quick to shoot down my dream – there was one that tried to persuade me into another option. I can’t remember the guy’s name, but he was a typical salesman: shite shirt, grey pants, and overly friendly. He called me, and told me he had sometime better than a Explorer but I had to come in. I showed up excited; he walked me out to the lot past the a few Explorers, Suburbans, and Mustangs to a White Ford Bronco with a snow plow attached to it.<br><br>
I didn’t know whether to vomit or burst out into insane laughter. There was no way I was going back to the neighborhood with a truck that had a snow plow attached to it. I would be the laughing stock of all my friends. Though the salesman pulled out all of his best antics – I would not budge. There was no way I was buying this truck (no matter how good of a deal it was). He basically told me that it was the only truck on the lot that he could get me in. I left frustrated, mad, and disappointed.<br><br>
A few weeks later I bought a Chevy Cavalier (and immediately pimped it out with rims, sounds, and a paint job). The winter that followed was one of the worst ever. I had quite a hard time puttering around in my little 4 cylinder car with the fancy rims. The Cavalier was totaled one hanging out downtown the next summer.<br><br>
I have never stopped thinking about that white Ford Bronco. Every harsh winter that goes by, I always think about how much money I could have made. Although the car salesman that day was just trying to get rid of that truck; he basically was also trying to “give” me a new business and I was too young to see that. <br><br>
So YES- I should have bought that truck! Started Kahn Santori Snow Removal (sounds great doesn’t it?) Though my friends would have laughed at me; I would have been laughing at end with all the money I would have mad. I could have started with one truck, than bought 4 more trucks and hired drivers. I would have given jobs to all my friends that didn’t laugh at me, and expanding my business to Ohio and Illinois. I could have made a killing. Oh well, that’s water under the bridge (as my grandfather used to say.) Too many new opportunities to be discovered, so no sense in beating this old story any more……<br><br><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2834462013-01-18T04:35:00-05:002013-01-18T04:35:00-05:00Regrets, Parenting, and High SchoolAs parents we always try to make sure our children avoid the miscues and mishaps that we made. A few days ago; I encouraged my oldest son not to “leave anything on the table”<br>
regarding high school. I told him to work as hard as possible in the classroom, to hustle beyond his potential on the court, and be a good friend and make valuable relationships. All things I weren’t good at.<br><br>
For four years of high school all I had to show was a 2.0 grade point average. That’s it. I gave a 2.0 effort and that’s what I was rewarded with. I was your typical “C” student. I also played football, but was far from a regular contributor. Though I’m happy overall with how my life turned out – I do wish I would have worked harder.<br><br>
Regrets.<br><br>
We all have them. Maybe you wish you would have tried harder in a relationship, maybe you slacked off in college, or you missed out on a promotion because you never worked hard enough for it. Of all the various types of “Woulda’, coulda’, shouldas’” – the ones that didn’t materialize because you didn’t give the best effort are the ones that will haunt you the most.<br><br>
I also told my son that on graduation day he wants to be one of the kids that has all the “prefixes” before his name is called such as National Honors Society, Class President, Class Valedictorian, or Graduated at the Top Half of his Class. I told him he wants to have options when he graduates: University of Michigan, Michigan State, etc…. All things I never had. My choices were all community colleges. I mean, where else do you go with a 2.0 GPA?<br><br>
Regrets.<br><br>
But as a whole; the lacklusterness of my early years proved to be tough love lessons for me. Maybe I work harder now because I know can’t afford to make the same mistakes? All parents see certain elements of themselves in our children. All of us hope and pray that our children will inherit all of our assets and none of our faults. All of us want our children to listen to us, avoid the bad wrong routes and dead ends and find their own personal version of the American Dream as mistake free as possible. But in reality – those are all unreal scenarios. So we consistently talk, preach, lecture and pray – and when our children stumble, we or our words will be there to lift them back up as our parents did us.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/790512013-01-15T05:20:00-05:002013-01-15T05:20:00-05:00Old business, New business, Photography, and Loving your Customers An old acquaintance of mine has been in the graphic design business since the 90s. He started in his mother’s basement; designing party flyers, and hustling. These days he has a standalone shop, office space, and his business is nationwide. I ran into him at Sam’s Club a while back and he made an interesting statement –<br><br>
“You know Kahn, back when I started my business; I had the whole thing on lock because I was the only one that knew how to do it. These days, most people can learn how to do whatever they want to do online.”<br><br>
In 2 sentences he summed up one of the biggest assets and challenges to starting a business now vs. starting a business 20 years ago. Back in the day one of the hardest parts of starting a business was acquiring information. The library would help but establishing connections with peers and finding mentorship was the best case scenario. And it was never easy to trying the “who’s who” and getting him/them to help you. You still have to do these things today but the internet is faster than the library, and peers and mentorship can be sought online within any organization that represents whatever field you’re looking to get started in (and doesn’t it seem like Youtube shows you how to do everything!!?).<br><br>
So now what you ask….<br><br>
The accessibility of information breeds more competition. This places all the importance on personality, quality, and passion. There are thousands of photographers cheaper than me, and another thousand photographers that are just as good as me. I obtain and retain clients because they like me, they trust me, and they know I will work my butt off. I have to do that day in and day out. I have to do that for every client that books me. I have to have passion to remain to keep doing it. My wife used to ask why I spend too much time just “talking” to clients; I would simply respond “because I love them and they love me.” lol<br>
<br>
Now I can also go in to marketing, being unique, standing out from the crowd and consistency. But that’s for a different blog post. You don’t have to have passion for that stuff; you just need to find what works for you. “Customer Service” – you have to have passion for. The same rule applies for any business you’re trying to get into. People will continue to support as long as they know/feel you are keeping their best interest at heart. So if you’re trying to start a business that customer service based; open up yourself, show your clients who you are, and be passionate. The days of being “the only shop” in town are over.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2808552013-01-15T03:25:00-05:002013-01-15T03:25:00-05:00Personal Quote“Going through the motions” is for your day job. Not for the gym, your significant other, or anything else you consider yourself passionate about.<br>
-KSD<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2808542013-01-15T03:25:00-05:002013-01-15T03:25:00-05:00Random experiencesAs I picked up the frozen Toll House cookie dough, put it into my cart – a woman a short distance away, twice my age, opposite my color: gave me a “1 dollar-off coupon.” So my faith in humanity has momentarily been restored.Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2785602013-01-11T05:25:00-05:002013-01-11T05:25:00-05:00Life is not a Math ProblemAs you can see from reading the previous blog post; I used to be very inconsistent with my goals. I worked my butt off‘till I found the taste of something newer and sweeter. Every “goal” I would say – “Ok, Kahn; this is it – you’re going to follow through on this one.” But I wouldn’t. “Not being able to follow thorough” was a fault of mine that I thought I could fix like a math problem. I was wrong.<br><br>
My grandfather smoked for more than 30 years (all before I was born). As the story goes – he caught a bad cold, couldn’t smoke, and decided not to go back to smoking when the cold passed. He quit cold turkey. He didn’t cut down to two cigarettes a day, he didn’t transition to nicotine gum – he just quit a bad habit. However, this same approach did not work when it came to saving money and building a future for his family (as mentioned in the previous blog post). He had to take baby steps to find the consistency needed to reach his financial and lifestyle goals. <br><br>
This is where the math problem analogy comes into play. A bad habit and a personality flaw are slightly different. Breaking bad habits are more about sustaining will power and resisting temptations. With personality flaws – you actually have to work through them, pick yourself apart, find out the “why,” discover the “how,” and put yourself back together again slowly.<br><br>
Because I was an “only child,” because I never had much family within the state, because I was a loner – sharing space, sharing time, and being unselfish with my wife were things I had to develop. It’s a process I still have to regulate because the “loner” aspect of my personality was/is so strong.<br><br>
I knew a young lady years ago with extreme jealous and resentment problems. Her anger thermometer would go from 60 to 120 degrees in less than 15 seconds! She knew this was an issue and had ruined many friendships because of this. After many failed attempts to “fix” herself cold turkey, she finally changed her approach and spent many years to understand, find, and successfully reinvent herself. She was able to partition all her “fight” just to her career goals without letting it carryover to her personal relationships. It’s something she still has to monitor.<br><br>
So many people don’t fulfill the ultimate transition within themselves because they try to make the “drastic change.” It could be anger management issues, excessive spending, overeating, etc.. It could even be something like “over working” – that could breed positively results monetary wise but bad results with it comes to relationships and family time organization.<br><br>
You can’t solve a personality flaw like a math problem. You can’t just “minus” a bad attribute away from your personality. You have to change classes; understand that restructuring personality flaws are more like essays that you need to continue and continue to write and edit.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2768862013-01-08T10:55:00-05:002013-01-08T10:55:00-05:00Following Through, Movies, Books, and CD’sMy grandfather always encouraged me to make as many mistakes as I could. “Go ahead and make all your mistakes now Kahn, because the only thing worse than a fool is an old fool,” he constantly told me. He also spoke how he never got a good grasp on life until he turned 40. That’s when he effectively began to save money, bought a new house, and sat up the way he would put his children through college. My grandfather had learned how to “follow through.”<br><br>
I changed majors about 25 times in college. Business, psychology, sociology, computer information systems, english, etc… I also discovered the joy of writing in college. By the time I graduated in 2001, I had written 2 chapbooks and maybe sold 100 copies combined. I should have sold more but the fun part was writing them – not selling them. I would drop books off on consignment at stores and never call or check to see if they were selling.<br><br><b>No follow through.<br><br></b>I then decided to write a 200 page short story book. Again, I took great pleasure staying up late and waking up early writing the stories. I hired an editor for corrections, graphic designer for the cover, and had 500 copies made, sold maybe 100 and the other 200 are still in my garage-lol.<br><br><b>No follow through.<br></b><br>
I also once wrote a movie script. It started off at 15 pages and grew to 115 pages. I had money set aside to film it, did a casting call, hired actors, hired a director, but after a few scenes were shot – the project disbanded.<br><br><b>No follow through.<br></b><br>
Why no “follow through” on those projects? Half of it were the success of other projects I was doing simultaneously (poetry CD’s and photography) and the other half was I had lost the “drive” to complete those ventures. <br><br>
Now years later I have learned the proverbial lesson about “following through.” I try to apply it to parenthood and being a husband as well. Like a lot of parents; my grandfather wanted me to understand things early in life so I wouldn’t make the same mistakes he made late in life. Not sure if I have accomplished this but his speeches and lectures never went in vain.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2761422013-01-07T07:30:00-05:002013-01-07T07:30:00-05:004 Boys, Statistics, Prison, Change, and PoetryThe four black boys sitting around the Dell weren’t different than any other boys. All around 10 or 11, the same height, outfitted in uniform blues, and each colored a different but beautiful shade of brown. Shirt-tales out, shoes untied, they looked around to see if anyone was watching as each one took turns at the key board. I took a quick glance at the screen and heard one say, “That’s my dad right there.” <br><br>
Then it hit me- they were looking up their fathers on Michigan’s offender search website.<br><br>
You know statistics are weird. Most times they’re just numbers you never see until you actually SEE them and you think, “Damn.” We always hear “numbers” of how bad cigarettes are for you but the numbers don’t mean much until we see someone dying of lung cancer carrying an oxygen tank. <br><br>
That’s how I felt watching those boys. I had always heard the numbers: #% black men in jail, #% black boys have fathers who are in prison or dead, #% man black boys will be arrested before age 21. <br><br>
But that day back in 2009, as I prepared for a poetry class I was teaching in the library – those numbers were kicking me in the face. I’m sure each dad had a story. Needed money, a failed hoop dream turn drug dealer, quick car-jacking to get some cash, a fight that turned into a homicide or maybe just got caught with some weed one too many times. Either way; they, along with their son’s all became statistics. I wanted to invite them over to my poetry class, let them talk life out; hear what they had to say, see what kind of words they could put their thoughts into. But it wasn’t my place. As my high-schoolers arrived, I began my lesson, and let up a silent prayer for the 4 boys behind me.<br><br>
My oldest son is as tall as me now. He’s smart, inquisitive, and very aware. I’ve spent many evenings trying to get him to understand that the way he lives is not the norm for other boys. His life of AAU teams, family trips, tutoring, cell phones, headphones, and home cooked meals is not a life a lot of kids get to live. The word “thankful” comes to mind here. He understands. He may not understand with the perspective I do, but he does understand.<br><br>
I’ve never forgotten about those 4 boys in the library that day. Thankful my son wasn’t one of them and feeling guilty for thinking that. In my early 20s, I spent a lot time working in the community and participating in dialogue to help boys like that. However I’ve learned as a father of 4, one of the best ways I can bring about change now is to focus on the 2 sons and 2 daughters that are living under my roof and care. Maybe one day – they will care as much and do. <br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2750262013-01-04T07:45:00-05:002013-01-04T07:45:00-05:00London, Dancing, Colored Hair and your BirthdayIn 2005 I visited London for 10 days doing poetry performances/readings. My fourth day, I performed at an “Exhibition” with other visual artist, dancers, and actors. It was held at a factory turned art gallery full of about 90 people of all shapes, colors, and sizes. The performances were so diverse – I could easily spend another 10 days writing about them. During a break in the action I noticed a tall woman, early 40s, green, pink, red streaks running through her blond hair dancing and smiling as if no one was watching. I tried not to stare, but she was obviously the most jovial and energetic person there. <br><br>
She walked towards me, shook my hand, asked was I the poet from Detroit, introduced me to her husband, brother, and a few other artists. She then asked,<br>
“Why aren’t you dancing?” (Now mind you she was the only one dancing-lol.)<br>
“I’m not really the dancing type,” I said jokingly. “I usually just dance on my birthday.” <br>
“Well Mr. Poet from Detroit; how come every day can’t be your birthday?”<br><br>
There was a pause. She went on to talk about how she changed her hair color every week, she never had bad days, and makes it a point to discover something or someone new an interesting every day. She said her attitude was sprouted in a childhood full of depression. The performances started back up and the conversation ended, but her words lingered my head for the rest of the trip.<br><br>
“How come every day can’t be your birthday?”<br><br>
Her point was simple really. I’m sure she lives every day as if it’s her last and never, ever avoids an opportunity to have fun. I think a lot of us do the opposite. We make “fun” wait for the weekends, holidays, or vacations. We want to feel as though we’ve “earned” the fun when there is joy to be found on a daily basis. We goal seekers and setters are guiltiest! At times we feel that if we’re not using our mental capacity to obtain our goals or further our ambitions: than we are wasting time. Other get so caught up in schedules, depressing jobs and bills – we may even thing life is not supposed to be enjoyable! <br><br>
“How come every day can’t be your birthday?”<br><br>
While I haven’t started coloring my hair nor dancing randomly at random music; I do try to leave enough parts of myself open to “get” the joke, read the funny email, or laugh at the prank. I try to smile as much as possible and give my mind a break from all things considered “serious.” <br><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2744102013-01-03T04:45:00-05:002013-01-03T04:45:00-05:00Holding on, Holding you back, Pinehurst, and TearsOctober 8, 2008 was emotional; it was the day we moved. I know for some– moving is a yearly thing-lol. Me; the only address I’d ever known since I was 15 months-old was Pinehurst. I was raised there and my mother was raised there. I knew every creek in the floor, the trick to unlock the back door, the problem with the basement bathroom, and all the best hiding spots. But it was time: our youngest daughter was due any day, we needed more space, and I needed a legitimate home office/studio.<br><br>
Knowing all of this didn’t make moving any less painful. When this house was bought in 1964, it was my grandfather’s “I’m moving on up” moment. He worked the overtime at the plant, he saved the money, he made the down payment, and he paid off the house. Now here I was, staring my family off in the exact same house. His legacy became my pride. <br><br>
But at times; “holding on” can “hold you back.” I was clinging on to a sense of comfort, a part of my world that even in marriage still made my wife feel like a visitor. That house represented the cocoon my grandparent’s built around me after my parents died. It was my retreat away from the world. <br><br>
5 years earlier I had struck up a conversation with a stranger. He was about 40, bald head, and business savvy. He was in the rental property game and also a law school student. He sized me up as if I was on a job interview; we talked education, work, and entrepreneurship. He asked why I was still on Pinehurst. He told me to move out, get a condo and make Pinehurst rental property. I laughed his words off without a rebuttal. He stared at my laugh said, “One day you’re going to look around and all the reasons you’re staying there won’t matter because everyone else will have moved on with their lives.”<br><br>
“holding on” can “hold you back.” <br><br>
Though I still didn’t agree: I did feel the weight of his words. This applies to a lot of things right? Relationships, jobs, and even dreams in some cases. <br><br><br>
“holding on” can “hold you back.” <br><br>
It took us about 4 days to move, slowly but surely, one box after another. The last day I walked around the empty house trying to pocket as many memories as I could - the empty space that belonged to my mother’s piano, a closet shelf once staked with grand ma’s hats and the vacant living room that served as my first studio. I sat on the floor one last time and cried.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2738992013-01-02T04:50:00-05:002013-01-02T04:50:00-05:00Struggling, Trying to Make it, Positivity, and Getting Sent Home50 percent of my friends or acquaintances I see daily exchange these phrases: “Struggling,” “Another day, another dolla’,” “Same shit, different toilet,” “Trying to make it do what it do,” “Just taking it one day at a time,” “Trying to be like you man; you got the best hand,” and “Just trying to hold on and make it happen.” <br><br>
The funny thing is a lot of the times – there is no truth in these statements (at least from my end). Somewhere in adulthood talking about your “successes” became mildly “unpopular.” Now let me reiterate- I don’t mean the folks you catch up with once a year, but the neighbors and co-workers you see on a daily basis. For example:<br><br>
“Kahn; how ya’ doing man?” “Awesome. Business is good, my daughter got an A on her spelling test and my son is up for an award in his science class. I’m feeling fantastic!”<br><br>
You just don’t hear many responses like that. Is it because we feel like we’re bragging? Does it make us uncomfortable to be positive? Do we take our lives for granted? We feel like don’t deserve these daily successes? Is it because we always want “more” that we can’t be thankful for what we already have? Does the bad always outweigh the good? I believe it’s a little bit of all of these. A lot of us have certain people we can call and share our success with because we feel our core friends/peers just don’t want to hear any good news! Some of us have even ended friendships with certain people because they were too negative.<br><br>
I once had a job that if any member of management asked how you were doing; you better answer “outstanding” or “excellent.” If you didn’t – you would get sent home (with no pay)! The company believed that the mood and energy of the staff carried over into how we treated the clients. So management never wanted to hear about your domestic issues, car problems, money problems, etc…. They wanted your eyes wide open and your attitude firing on all cylinders! And to be honest – it worked. Whatever morning funk I was in – I would make myself snap out of it before I got to work. Everybody spoke to everyone with good energy and earnest. Can you imagine if everyone if your circle was like that?<br><br>
I’m sure if we greeted more of our peers with positivity it would carry over and eventually – the awkwardness go away. But this is just my perspective- I actually still don’t have the heart to reply to the “Struggling, trying to make it” line with anything but the exact same response. I guess deep down I feel that my friends with baby-mamma drama and dead end jobs don’t want to hear about my life. I think it would make it look like I’m throwing things up in their face. So I keep my mouth shut and only share my goals and success with like-minded friends.<br><br>
Doesn’t make it right though…………doesn’t make it right<br><br><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2735852013-01-01T03:15:00-05:002013-01-01T03:15:00-05:00Finding yourself, self-evaluation, and growing<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">One of the most commonly known phrases of self- evaluation is; “I have to find myself.” While all of us at different points in life began to seek deeper understandings of our souls – what we don't understand is that it's not a “one-time thing.” Finding yourself never stops.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">When I was 22 I re-found myself spiritually. Through self-evaluation I realized that I was going to church out of tradition and ritual rather than going to seek spiritual enlightenment. Through another self-evaluation process at age 24 – I realized that I had a tendency to define myself though material things and I was concerned with trying to obtain all the “haves” of the world.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Most recently I discovered that I could never just do “one thing” with my life. I had several periods where I thought I only wanted to be a poet, I only wanted to be a journalist, or that I solely wanted to be a photographer. Well I learned that I don't want to “solely” do anything! I get much more enjoyment and fulfillment pursuing all my interest (business or hobby.)</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">All should be able to recognize that we mature and we grow as we get older. All of us should seek to mature and grow. This applies to relationships as well. If I ask you were you in love with whomever you were dating in high-school or college; what would you say? You probably look back and say, “I didn't love that person.” But if I asked you at the time you were with that person– you would have said, “Hec yeah, I love him/her!” How we define “love” changes. What we think love is at 19 or 20 years-old is not how we define love at 30 years old.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Honestly this is one of the most beautiful things about the human experience. As long as you're open and seeking growth – you will grow. Finding yourself is not a single event – its something that happens over and over and over and over again. And when you stop finding yourself – it doesn't mean you've “found yourself.” It just means that life is still evolving and you stopped evolving with it.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> </p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2727122012-12-29T08:30:00-05:002012-12-29T08:30:00-05:00Jimi Says...<span style="line-height: 24px; background-color: rgb(249,247,234); font-family: 'Open Sans', Geneva, Helvetica, serif; color: rgb(99,71,75); font-size: 16px">"The reflection of the world is blues, that’s where that part of the music is at." <br>
-Jimi Hendrix</span>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2723192012-12-28T05:35:00-05:002012-12-28T05:35:00-05:00Nursing Homes, Love, Family Portraits and MarriageA week ago I was hired to photograph a family session. The shoot took place at an assisted living home where my client’s mother resided. My client was the youngest of 9, it had been years since a family photograph was taken, and her mother’s age and health made an updated family portrait a priority. After a quick survey of the facility we decided the most appropriate place would be in the main dining hall in front of the Christmas tree.<br><br>
As I set up, I noticed an elderly couple cuddled in the back. I didn’t see a coat so I assumed both of them were residents. The gentleman (probably in his mid-70s or 80s) was sitting upright gazing at the passerby’s and visitors. His wife (who looked to be the same age) was sleep, her head firmly resting on her husband’s chest as their two opposite hands were interlocked firmly. It was beautiful; a peaceful and relaxing site.<br><br>
The entire time I did my shoot, I couldn’t help but to keep glancing their way. They looked so serene, so in love. I even started to imagine what their backstory was. Did they meet in high-school? College maybe? Better yet I bet he was in the army, met her at a diner one winter when he was in town and she wrote him every day after ‘till he came home. I wondered how long they’d been married. 40 years? 50 years? 60 years? Did they have children? How did they celebrate their anniversaries? When did the dementia start? When did she become nonambulatory? How hard was it on them to move to assisted living?<br><br>
But ultimately I was wondering, “Is this me and my wife in 40 years?” Will I hold her as warmly and tightly as this man? Will I stay with her through nursing homes, assisted living, etc? Will I still comfort and love her with the same passion and determination that I do today?<br><br>
“Of course I will,” I say to myself. That is; if I’m blessed with the opportunity to do so.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2718822012-12-27T05:05:00-05:002012-12-27T05:05:00-05:00Enterprise, Shoveling Shit, Identity, and the MilitaryI worked at Enterprise Rent-A-Car from 2001 to 2003. We were encouraged to be friendly and make personal connections with the customers via small talk. I remember a customer who needed a vehicle due to car repair. Can’t remember his name but he was a black dude, about 35, dressed in Carhartt overalls. We talked sports, city life, and high school. He told me he graduated from Osborne High School, worked for BFI Waste Services, and a couple of friends were trying to talk him into going to the upcoming class reunion. Then he made this statement –<br><br>
“All them motherfuckers want to do is talk about their stocks, careers, 401ks and shit. Well, I shovel shit all day: let’s talk about that dammit.”<br><br>
He paused, said a few more words, I offered what encouragement I could muster up, and put him in his rental.<br><br>
His frustration stayed with me. He was mad that the best life had given him: was a job “shoveling shit.” He was mad that “shoveling shit” was the only thing in his life he had to hang his hat on and the last thing he wanted was to bring his “shoveling shit” identity to a space where others had and were proud of having so much more. The tone of his voice told all - not sure if he felt he let himself down or if “life” let him down more.<br><br>
I hate he felt like that because I bet he probably had some very tangible skills. I bet he could draw, I bet he probably had a musical background that he never explored. I bet if I had talked to him long enough he would have told me about this entrepreneurial dream he had, a dream he gave up on because he couldn’t finance it or maybe just stopped believing in it. Even with that- if all he saw himself as was a “shit shoveler” and that’s all he will ever be. I promised myself I would never look in the mirror and feel like that.<br><br>
About six months later I had another customer: black guy, late 20s, athletic looking who talked a lot about his time in the military. He told me –<br><br>
“I’m not like you man, I’m gonna’ have to go back in the service because I don’t have the mind to be no business man, I just can’t understand all that shirt and tie stuff like you guys.”<br><br>
I responded, “I can’t understand all the shirt and tie stuff either; I just work here to pay a few bills. I like to write poems and take pictures – that’s what my life is about.”<br><br>
He gave me a perplexed look, might have even thought I was joking, didn’t respond and went about his way.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2714572012-12-26T05:15:00-05:002012-12-26T05:15:00-05:00Sambo, Jews, Detroit, My Grandfather and StitchesDetroit. 1969. My grandfather: Robert Smith: 5, 8” - one hundred and sixty pounds of deep south, blue collars, coffee kernel skin, and good religion hit his head on his garage door while closing it. He knows right away it’s nothing peroxide and a band-aid can take care of, so he gets a couple of rags, holds them to his head, and drives his Chrysler to the hospital.<br><br>
He gets there and his suspicions are confirmed – he needs stitches. A doctor of Jewish decent (can’t remember his name) begins to perform the procedure. The doctor is chatty. He talks cars, riots, and Tigers. However; one thing concerns my grandfather – he keeps referring to him as Sam. By the third time he says it my grandfather is certain he’s using this as a racial epithet. My grandfather thinks it’s because he’s short and dark that the doctor is calling him “Sam” (short for “Little Black Sambo,” an old children’s book from 1899; the name of the book has since been changed). And what’s infuriating my grandfather is that he can’t say anything to the doctor because he’s putting stiches in his head! By the time he has finished, the doctor has probably said “Sam” 7 or 8 more times. My grandfather says nothing to him, just signs his paperwork, and storms out.<br><br>
Back at the home, he walks thourgh the door, his temper still hotter than burning oil, tells my grandmother the whole story, and she immediately burst into laughter. <br><br>
My grandfather yells at her, “What is so funny?”<br>
“Robert; go look in the mirror.” She replies while still cracking up.<br>
My grandfather goes to the mirror, and sees the name “Sam” stitched on the top left hand corner of his overalls. He burst out laughing with my grandmother.<br><br>
Is there a moral to this story? Probably, but I don’t care to explore it. Of the many stories my grandfather told (over and over again) – this was easily my favorite.<br><br><br><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2711502012-12-25T01:50:00-05:002012-12-25T01:50:00-05:00Pass along a blessing...<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">While I'm sure a lot of us are up with our children opening gifts, putting together toys, and charging electronic gifts. Don't forget to reach out to a friend, coworker or neighbor who may be alone and without any family. While the holiday season is a festive time for gift-giving; its also ranks very high in suicides and suicide attempts. If you consider yourself “blessed” in any way – please pass it on.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> </p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">You may save a life.</p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2707692012-12-24T02:30:00-05:002012-12-24T02:30:00-05:00Jimi Says "Knowledge speaks, but wisdom listens"<br>
-Jimi HenrixKahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/696112012-12-23T07:20:00-05:002012-12-23T07:20:00-05:00Christmas, Nintendo, and Free PassesIt was the Christmas of 1986, like a lot of kids, I was anticipating my Nintendo Entertainment System. My grandparents hadn't “assured” me I was getting one but I knew them well enough to know that they just wanted to keep me guessing (and wanted to keep my behavior good.) About 4 days before Christmas they told me they had to go to a luncheon and would be gone for about 2 hours. The standard rules applied: don't answer the door for nobody, and don't try to cook any food.
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The minute the door closed, I went right to the basement, opened the door to a rarely used pantry, dug around for a minute and then- “Jackpot!” A brand new Nintendo Entertainment System with a few random games. I grabbed the box, took it upstairs, carefully took it out the box, hooked it up, and started playing Super Mario Brothers. I figured I had at least 1 hour of playing time before I would put everything back in the box and back in the pantry. I was having a good ole' time. Smiling, thumbs going to work, volume on full blast, and then I heard the front door open.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">It was my grandparents; back 45 minutes sooner than they said. There was absolutely nothing I could do. I was caught. There wasn't enough time to unhook the system, wrap the chords, and put the console back in the box. I was flat-out busted. When my grandfather came into my room – I just lowered my head and got mentally prepared for the belt whopping that awaited me. However, after a good talking to and some fussing – they decided not to punishment me at all. Not spanking, I wasn't grounded – just nothing. They didn't explain why and I didn't ask.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">In retrospect I understand it now. I hadn't been a bad kid, I was having a decent school year, and they basically gave me a free pass. As a parent I've learned a “free pass” is something you have to strategically use. It's - “I know what you did, and you know what you did, but I'm won't say nothing this time.” Its when you actually show your son/daughter that you have a compassionate and forgiving side. Its when you show them you aren't a hard-ass allllllll the time And plus you get to bring it back up when they do something else to get in trouble.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Like when a cop pulls you over for going 15 miles over the speed limit and all he says is, “Buckle up and slow down.” When your manager watches you check-in 3 minutes past your start time and casually mentions it 4 hours later with no further reprimand.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I remember almost every single whopping my grandparents gave me and still cringe when I remember the way those belts and switches tore my rear end up. But I also remember those “free passes,” and thinking about those makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.</p>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2702972012-12-22T09:15:00-05:002012-12-22T09:15:00-05:00Jimi Says<span style="border-bottom: 0px; text-align: left; border-left: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; background-color: rgb(230,230,230); margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 24pt; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" class="grand">I used to live in a room full of mirrors; all I could see was me. I take my spirit and I crash my mirrors, now the whole world is here for me to see.</span><span style="text-align: left; background-color: rgb(230,230,230); font-size: 16px"> <br></span><span style="border-bottom: 0px; text-align: left; border-left: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; background-color: rgb(230,230,230); margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; font-size: 16px; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px"><br><br>
-Jimi Hendrix</span>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2698332012-12-21T07:40:00-05:002012-12-21T07:40:00-05:00My mother, Expectations, Parenting, and SuccessIf you know me, you know I usually speak with great reverence about my grandparents. They did everything in their power to “set me up to win” and I appreciate them more and more every day. However there was one miscalculation in which I’ve made it a point not to repeat as a parent. They expected me to live up to the standards my mother had set before me.<br><br>
This may not sound like a big deal but let me tell you about my mother. Wanda Yvonne Davison was a consistent 4.0 student. She was clever, bright and intitutive. She graduated high school and college with honors (getting her degree in music). She loved kids, taught music at Leslie Elementary School, and was the choir director of the youth choir at her church. Though I never met her – her angelic presence was alive in our household as you can probably imagine.<br><br>
The problem was this – I was different. I was never a great student. I never saw a 3.0 ‘till college. I took piano lesson from 8 to 17 years of age and hated every second of it. I didn’t particularly like singing in the children’s choir nor did I have any desire to play the piano for the choir. My grandparents felt I wasn’t applying myself 100 percent and I always felt like an underachiever. After all: I was Wanda’s son; and I was supposed to be smart like her, and play piano like her.<br><br>
I remember trying to avoid applying for the one thousand dollar scholarship my church gave out every year. My mother had grown up in the same church and I was too embarrassed to show anyone my high school transcripts. I graduated with a 2.0 overall.<br><br>
College was the turnaround. I learned I was good at writing, I was good a public speaking, I was good at organizing people, and I was extremely creative. I was encouraged to explore the job opportunities in all these areas by my college professors. But what dumfounded me – was why all these things were never seen or encouraged by my grandparents or my high school teachers. <br><br>
The point here is that my children are raised to be themselves. None have my first name and I don’t expect any of them to take an interest to photography, public speaking, poetry, or writing. If they do- great! But there are no pre-existing expectations other than trying your best and not being closed minded to new things. They have been exposed to everything (theatre, dance, all sports, music, drawing, etc..) because my wife and I have no idea what they will like, what they will be good at, what will come natural to them. Even if they pick up something like drawing (for example); it may not develop into a career but they will have an outlet, a creative way to express themselves, a plesant hobby, a way to make side money maybe and the list goes on and on.<br><br>
You know I don’t blame my grandparents for anything. My mother was the adult they wanted me to grow up to be. My mother had died and I was the only piece of her left. How could they not see me in her? How could they not want me to succeed in the same ways she succeeded? It’s understandable. I was raised in a positive and enriching environment. But as a parent now – I understand that if I want to put my children in the best position to win: there are some things I must do different than my grandparents.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2691512012-12-20T04:45:00-05:002012-12-20T04:45:00-05:00Children, Sacrifice, Goals, and ParentingIf the “Parent of the year” award was based on sacrifice – my wife would win hands down. I have no problem admitting this because it’s the truth. When I was up late submitting applications to writing workshops and writing articles for The Metro Times – she was giving baths and reading goodnight stories. When I first started my photography business and was glued to my seat developing marketing and business plans – she was planning activities for the kids. When it was time to move; she was researching school districts and sub-divisions while I was editing photos and submitting teaching proposals to community centers.<br><br>
I’ll be frank – I don’t have many “gifts.” My gift is my drive. I set a goal and won’t eat, or sleep until that goal is complete. And THEN: I’ll set a completely different goal (that has nothing to do with the previous goal) and follow the same process. Not sure why I’m wired like this but I just am. I don’t know how to function any other way. <br><br>
I’ve had to work hard to learn “balance -” to listen, to contribute to family conversations, and to pay attention at family events. It’s not just about “being around my wife and kids” but mentally being engaged inside the household and with them individually. That’s why I always ask my peers the question: “Are you sacrificing too much of your life to be who you want to be?”<br><br>
My wife does not have this problem, her goals are the kids. She spends countless hours a week planning activities, trips, and their futures. Though she makes me look selfish in comparison – I envy her. She thrives on their four heartbeats and their unlimited potential excites her to no end. Every other thing in her life takes a backseat to them and it’s obvious that this is more preference than burden. While I struggle just to “balance” – she cancels personal appointments, classes, work, meetings, and dates with no hesitation if it conflicts with anything in the kid’s (extensive) schedules.<br><br>
Maybe the contrast is part of what makes our marriage work or maybe we’re just used to each other? Either way – her 24/7 sacrifice inspires me every day. And even though she doesn’t know – it quietly pushes me to be a better father and husband.<br><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2685642012-12-19T03:40:00-05:002012-12-19T03:40:00-05:00Observations and Thankfulness A young girl, no older than 8, wrapped in berets, uniform blues, and goodness - crossing a hectic road in a not-so-safe part of town on her way to school. I asked God to watch over her travels and thanked Him in the next breath that my daughter never has to worry about such. I also tried to imagine that little 8 year-olds back story: Is mom at work, working 2 jobs? Is dad around, is he alive? Is she happy? Does she get good grades? Can she recognize the bad guys, how to sidestep danger, how to run like FloJo if she needs too……<br><br>
At Meijer’s, about 12am, a young woman, 25 wearing 45 badly, dressed in a hairnet, jogging pants, and an old Piston’s championship shirt. This woman; who looks more like she needs to be in bed rather than the grocery store has 3 small children with her, begging for everything their little eyes see. Her cart is full – milk, cereal, cheese, crackers, cookies, lunch meat etc. My common sense tells me that these kids should not be out this late and these kids should be getting sleep for tomorrow school’s day because that’s where my kids are. Again – I’m thankful that this is not a reality that my wife has to deal with.<br><br>
I know it’s not polite or kind to look at other’s and say, “Glad that’s not me.” But there is nothing wrong with understanding that there are a lot of children and adults that have unfortunate realties that others don’t. A lot of times – I find myself frustrated with reaching my goals, not having enough money, or maybe my photo business is not where is should be. Sometimes I’m so hard on myself that I get depressed. But then I look at my quality of life. I look at my children who have the opportunity to be just “children.” They carry no burdens, no extra responsibility above their age, no extra stress – they get to be just “children.” I look at my wife – who gets to be a mother without having to do it all by herself. Whose main concern is the wellness of our children and not how pay the bills are going to be paid. This is comforting to me and makes my life full of happiness and thankfulness even when I’m finding flaws in so much else. <br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2680802012-12-18T04:45:00-05:002012-12-18T04:45:00-05:00My parents, Jovan Belcher, Murder, Suicide,…….where are we?I’m not a statistician, or a crime reports enthusiast but I’m sure when my father murdered my mother in 1977 – it was considered a rare crime. Till’ this day I still wonder what the back story was. What was my father going through? What was on his mind? What kind of demons did he have? Was there a psychiatric issue? All unanswered questions that pop up in my head from time to time.<br><br>
To be honest; these are unwanted thoughts. I’d rather not think about such but I can’t stop because it seems every month I’m reading about another murder/suicide in the paper or on the internet. And ultimately there are going to be children like me – with more questions than answers.<br><br>
But the most basic of all questions is “When and Why?”<br><br>
When did we (as a society) get to this point where murder and suicide is perceived as an option? What circumstances get so bad where a person feels that murdering their spouse and killing themselves is the only choice? This is what truly haunts me. Has mankind acquired more cowardly ways? Can’t bear the pain of going through rough waters anymore? Does the rise in murder and suicides coincide with the rise of divorces? If times are that bad than how did all those marriages make it through the Great Depression? Since when did we become too weak to hold on?<br><br>
These are questions I’m still waiting for ansers for. My mother died from a hit to the back of the head. Could have been a mistake, could have been on purpose. My father shot himself in the chest 2 days later. No answers, just questions.<br><br>
I quiver a bit when I read about a spousal murder/suicide. Feels like a sucker punch to the gut. I always think about the kids. Who will raise them? Who will teach them? What will they become?<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2677042012-12-17T09:05:00-05:002012-12-17T09:05:00-05:00The Hood, Suburbs, Good Kids, Bad Kids and ParentingI grew up at 17385 Pinehurst on Detroit’s west-side in the 80s and 90s. It was more “neighborhood than “hood” but nonetheless – it still had its challenges. My grandfather was savvy to the threats surrounding me/us. There was always: “Don’t go near That House”, “Stay away from Those Kids,” “Stay away from That Corner,” or “You can’t be friends with That Kid.” (For the record – he was always right.) And honestly I feel his job was easier as a parent than mine is now because the bad kids actually looked like “bad kids.” In fact; there were only a few molds of boys – there were athletic boys, smart boys, boys who got all the girls, boys who smoked weed and drank, boys who sold drugs and started fights, and regular kids like me. My grandfather could spot trouble a block away with his glasses off.<br><br>
Fast forward to 2008 – my wife and I were still living in that same house as I grew up in and preparing to move. Like any other couple – we wanted a safe neighborhood, spacious house, safe schools, and good city services. For the most part; I thought we had succeeded. There was one thing that I noticed when we moved and I’m still trying to understand – everybody and every house looks the same. Out here; there is no “that house” or “that kid.” In fact there are more different kinds of kids. There are skate board kids, emo kids, goth kids, kids who abuse their parent’s pharmaceuticals, debate team kids, and the list goes and on. The challenging thing as a parent is that all these kids look alike. There is no creepy house where a child molester stays. If there’s a child molester here – he stays in a house like mines! A kid they may look “smart” to me is actually a weed head. A kid that looks like a week head may be a straight A student!<br><br>
The important thing is that we have great communication with our kids and most of the time – they are the ones informing us of who the bad kids are and what they’re doing! I’m bringing this up in light of what happened in Connecticut this past weekend. I’m bringing this up because I’m sure all of those parents choose their residences with the same thought process we had when we moved in 2008. But in this day and age: the bad guys/kids are among us. Sometimes the bad guys/kids don’t even have a history of being bad.<br><br>
We moved because we didn’t want our kids to catch a random bullet from an afterschool fight, we moved because we didn’t want them to be offered drugs, we didn’t want them to be peer pressured to join a gang. But as we are unfortunately finding out: danger resides in every zip code. All you can do is be the best parent you can be and leave the rest to whoever your preferred Savior is.<br><br>
Those parents in Connecticut aren’t guilty of anything. It could have easily happened at my kids school or any of our children’s school. My grandfather didn’t have to worry about guys like that when I was growing up. When I was kid – a mentally challenged 20 year old probably just stayed in his grand ma’s basement playing video games and only came out the house to help her with groceries. He didn’t go to elementary schools and kill kids!<br><br>
It’s a different day. Pray. Be well.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2663982012-12-14T03:50:00-05:002012-12-14T03:50:00-05:00The Importance of People One of the most important things we can do with our lives is to connect with people that have the potential to help us. This doesn’t mean you have to necessarily be what’s called a “People Person” but you have to recognize when a person has the potential to help further your goals and at least try to reach out to that person. A few examples:<br><br>
-In 1994 (my first year of community college) I found myself in a basic composition class. After about 1 week and 2 assignments, my teacher (Dr. Willey) suggested that I had a “knack” for writing and I should take it more seriously and possibly work it into my career goals. – <i>I did.<br></i><br>
-In 1999, I asked longtime owner of a local photo studio and family Friend (Johnny Burns) to show me a few things about photography. He accepted my offer and did me one better by making me his wedding assistant. – <i>That was the genesis of my venture in the photo business</i>. <br><br>
-In 2004, after a few stints writing for small circulation newspapers The Michigan Citizen and The Gazette, a fellow writer (Khary Turner) asked would I consider joining the staff of the Michigan Metro Times (a much bigger circulated paper). - <i>I did</i>.<br><br>
-In 2005 I was looking to take my poetry from “stage” to more literary “page” style work. Right at the time I was thinking this, local and nationally published poet (Vievee Francis) had approached me, felt I should be doing just that and offered to mentor and assist me. <i>As a result I’ve been published in various journals, accepted to a variety of workshops and taught classes.<br><br></i>-In 2007 I was looking to take my photography to the “next level” marketing and business wise. I met another photographer (Marco Antiono) at a local bridal show who exposed me to the national and local organizations I should join, effective and non-effective business strategies, and must have marketing plans. <i>As a result I made even further connections and raised the profits of my business. <br><br></i>-In May of 2011, I was completely out of shape. I was 265 lbs. and depressed about it. I talked to my buddy (Julian Palm) and he without hesitation mentored me on every single thing regarding diet, cardio, and resistance training. <i>As of today I’m 205 lbs., eating good and feeling good.<br><br></i>I could go on and on but my point in all of this is that in all my goals- I either reached out or accepted an offer from another individual who could help me. There is nothing wrong with “asking” or “accepting” support. Most times if a person knows or sees you are serious- they will reach out to you or at least try to help you out if asked. It’s for that reason this website site exist and I try to reach out to as many as people. You have to pass it down and around so we all will grow.<br><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2658232012-12-13T04:50:00-05:002012-12-13T04:50:00-05:00The World we Live inAt this point in parenthood I absolutely understand the looks of concern and hope my grandfather gave me on a daily basis because I give my children the exact same looks. The world is an ever evolving sphere with way more bobby traps and challenges than I ever had at their ages. Now I see why my grand ma made me memorize Psalm 23.Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2652632012-12-12T05:15:00-05:002012-12-12T05:15:00-05:00Please & Thank youIt’s easy and common to pray to your preferred savior when you’re ambitious and reaching for your goals. But when you get there: do you pray and “say thanks” as passionately as you “asked please?”Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2646532012-12-11T03:35:00-05:002012-12-11T03:35:00-05:00Every Day in Every Way........“Every day in every way, I am getting better and better”<br><br><br>
It’s amazing where you can find tid-bits of motivation. It was my first time watching HBO’s Boardwalk Empire this morning. A pretty violent and graphic series but low and behold – this nugget of inspiration was uttered in a random scene that had nothing to do with the overall plot of the show. This is the equivalent of just pulling into the store and seeing a parking space in the front. Remember – motivation is all around you – you just have to be receptive to it. <br><br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2642722012-12-10T07:55:00-05:002012-12-10T07:55:00-05:00Just LiveWhen you’re young, “Consistency” seems a lot less desirable than “Spontaneity.” That changes when you get older, settled down, and really start navigating through life. However, part of staying “young” is embracing some sort of “Spontaneity.”<br><br>
Lesson here: Don’t let everyday be “Ground Hog Day” but don’t let everyday be “Hangover Pt. 1” either. Just live.<br>Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2635702012-12-08T10:50:00-05:002012-12-08T10:50:00-05:00Consistency There was a point in time where I hated “consistency.” But not anymore. There is something very wonderful about waking up to the same woman, hitting the gym, making breakfast for the kids, taking them to karate, gymnastics or basketball practice. I'm 36 going on 37. My days of constantly seeking “action” or trying to define the beauty in a unplanned day is over. And its nothing wrong with that. My kids are beautiful, growing, loving and I'm enjoying everyday of it. Kahn Santori Davison tag:kahnd.com,2005:Post/2631552012-12-07T08:05:00-05:002012-12-07T08:05:00-05:00Favorite Quote“You see things; you say, 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say 'Why not?” <br>
― George Bernard Shaw<br><br><br>
This is the quote I have lived my life around for the last 10 years.<br>Kahn Santori Davison