Finding Hiphop, Looking for Jazz: Thoughts of a Modern Male Divorcé

By Kristopher Darnell

Kristophers inspirational story is filled with every life experience imaginable.

Kristopher paired honesty and revealing personal stories with reflective

questions that are asked by most men. He was able to walk thru SHAME and Pain

with Grace. Putting his children first as he resolved Inter-Child issues.

Providing building blocks of wisdom, Kristopher guides you toward re-building

a life and achieving The Goal of Trust and Happiness again.

Kristopher takes you on his journey showing how he got out of his own way

while encouraging you to do the same.

Insightful, funny, inspiring, and full of positive energy; This is not just a book for

men but a must read for women. Women will have an opportunity to see divorce

from the eyes of a very loving father.

Finding HIP-HOP, Looking for Jazz. This book will help you re-program your

thinking. You will never look at a Single Father the Same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9781479766307

Kristopher Darnell

Kristopher Willis is an author, entrepreneur, Navy veteran, model, and a degreed engineer raised in the Houston Metroplex Area. His free time is spent with his children Kyrie and Kristopher. When not writing, negotiating deals, or travelling he enjoys reading, concerts, and sporting events. Kristopher’s interests include enlightenment, empowerment, and continued education. As well, he is active in the RefreshRemix Christian Movement; living by the verse that “…all things are possible through Christ who strengthens ME!”

Book preview

Finding Hip-hop,

Looking For Jazz

Thoughts of A Modern Male Divorcé

Volume 1

16043.jpg

Kristopher Darnell

Cover Art by Charles Johnson

Interior Sketches by Frederick Ross

Copyright © 2013 by Kristopher Darnell.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 03/08/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

120296

Chapters

DOCTOR ANNETTA VAUGN’S PROLOGUE

PREFACE

1.NO MATTER THE SITUATION, FOCUS ON YOU. IT’S OKAY TO BE SELFISH AFTER A DIVORCE

2.SO I LANDED TODAY… . STALLING PATTERNS

3.I’M NOT ONLY AN EX-HUSBAND… BUT NOW I’M A BABY DADDY… . WITH A BABY MOMMA

4.LOSING YOUR CHEERING SECTION

5.AVOID BEING THE CONTROLLING GUY

6.SO YOU’RE A KID IN A CANDY STORE. THE ONLY PROBLEM IS THAT THE CANDY HAS BEEN FONDLED, UNWRAPPED, STUCK TO OTHER PIECES, LICKED, PASSED OVER, AGED, ETC. , ETC

7.DON’T ENTER ANOTHER RELATIONSHIP, UNTIL YOU ARE PREPARED FOR A BREAK-UP, AND WHATEVER IT MAY ENTAIL

8.REPARING FOR YOUR NEXT RELATIONSHIP

9.BECOMING A SOCIAL MOTH

10.FINDING HIP HOP… . LOOKING FOR JAZZ

11.QUOTABLES

12.SUGGESTED READING

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

13.QUESTIONS FOR CONVERSATION

DOCTOR ANNETTA VAUGN’S PROLOGUE

F INDING HIP HOP Looking for JAZZ

Kristopher’s inspirational story is filled with every life experience imaginable.

Kristopher paired honesty and revealing personal stories with reflective questions that are asked by most men. He was able to walk thru SHAME and Pain with Grace. Putting his children first as he resolved Inter-Child issues.

Providing building blocks of wisdom, Kristopher guides you toward re-building a life and achieving The Goal of Trust and Happiness again.

Kristopher takes you on his journey showing how he got out of his own way while encouraging you to do the same.

Insightful, funny, inspiring, and full of positive energy; This is not just a book for men but a must read for women. Women will have an opportunity to see divorce from the eyes of a very loving father.

Finding HIP-HOP, Looking for Jazz. This book will help you re-program your thinking. You will never look at a Single Father the Same.

PREFACE

I T’S THE HOLIDAY season and I’m attending a family function. Good times are being had by all. I’ve shown my savvy in spades and proven my prowess in dominoes. While playing dominoes and discussing sports, politics, and current events with my family, I’m quick to notice a gentleman who is earning himself the title of a buffoon.

I have a very large family. Assuming he is a distant cousin, I begin to inquire as to exactly how this guy is related to me. Most of the men in my family have a cool, calm demeanor about themselves and this guy wasn’t fitting the bill. Maybe he married into the family. Everyone laughed at how I was so intent to get an answer. Then one finally replied, He isn’t related to us. That’s Dell from up the street!

My first reaction was relief. It was good to know the family tree didn’t have such an odd branch. The night rolled on and Dell managed to drink everything that could be poured. Dark liquor, clear liquor, beer, margaritas; he may have been in the restroom taking shots of Scope or Listerine at the rate he was going. He was becoming an embarrassment to himself and whomever he came with. The man of the house eventually told Dell to sit down and assigned him the task of being the scorekeeper for the domino game, a role not to be taken lightly at a house party.

As previously stated, I tend to make the domino table my place of rest at most gatherings and this one was no different. Points were being called. People were debating whose football team was best. Then, suddenly the deafening volume of the crowd, television, glasses, and slamming dominoes was replaced with quieted murmurs and minimal movement. Everyone seemed to be frozen and looking in my direction. So, I did the normal thing. I perused my person and found nothing out of the ordinary. I looked to my left — nothing — then to my right. At that moment, I realized what caught everyone’s attention.

The crowd erupted in laughter. Dell was crying his eyes out. He had gone from the jovial jackass to the six-foot-four inch, balling brute in a matter of seconds. I personally found the situation quite intense. I was the person seated closest to Dell. I’m no psychologist, but common sense told me, that based on his emotional swing from happy to sad in a matter of seconds, I didn’t want to be the closest person to him if his next emotional swing was from sad to angry. I went outside to get a little air and decided to let the situation diffuse itself. Others followed.

While outside, I began to ask more about Dell. I gestured to the woman in the doorway and probed, Why doesn’t his wife take him home when he gets like this? That question was met by light chuckles. Another friend of the family replied, That’s not Dell’s wife. That’s my wife. He went on to say, That fool’s wife left him this time last year, almost to the day. My heart skipped a beat. This was Thanksgiving. I went from feeling no commonness with such a clown to feeling he was a brother from another mother. It turned out that I was in his exact position one year ago.

I spent my first holiday season without my wife and kids. I didn’t know the circumstances that led to Dell’s wife leaving him. He could have been a tyrant, beyond measure, and she could have left for her and her children’s safety. He may have been a poor man’s Tiger Woods with some sort of sex addiction. All that seemed irrelevant. What I did know was the pain he was experiencing at that exact moment. I longed to tell this man my testimony; knowing that the path, we both found ourselves on, was similar. The current difference being that his future was my recent past.

I was Dell, not in the sense of embarrassing myself in public, but based on the emotional state that he now found himself in. I saw Dell’s predicament as a confirmation that there are more men like me. Had it not been for his breakdown, I would have long thought that the emotional rollercoaster I was on was a ride to be ridden alone. Based on my experience, and the statistics, I realized there were enough men like me, and Dell, to fill an amusement park. There is a society of men, living in secret, dealing with the trials and tribulations of divorce.

After the jokes died down, we decided to continue with the festivities. When we went back in, Dell was gone. He must have slipped out through the side or back door. The embarrassment was too much for him.

I never got to speak to Dell, and I often wonder how his situation turned out. I felt a sense of responsibility for not assisting a man down. I felt as though I had the tools needed to repair his emotions, and be a beacon of light at the end of his tunnel, yet I sat silent. Instead of immediately asking what had him in such despair, I treated him like a leper. I decided I would not miss an opportunity to help another.

*     *     *

Months later, I was talking to a friend at a local coffee house. The initial purpose of our meeting was to discuss a potential joint venture. As expected, it went well. The business meeting quickly turned into dialogue between old friends. We hadn’t spoken in person, since sitting in 12th grade English. We dished on who was where, doing what, and with whom they were doing it. I would throw out random names of people from our neighborhood to get the scoop, and she would do the same. We laughed and reflected on old times; how far we had come, and where we hoped our lives would go.

One of the people I inquired about was her cousin, Henry. He lived around the block and was about four years older than us, which seemed like a big difference as teenagers. From the initial look on her face, I thought he had died an untimely death. He’s in prison, she said with resignation in her voice. I felt relief that he wasn’t dead. Many people from my neighborhood have gone on to achieve great things; some are business owners, athletes, rappers, teachers, and members of the armed forces. Others from my neighborhood have been incarcerated. My friend was from the same neighborhood I grew up in and was aware that our environment bred the good, bad, and the ugly. The somber look that came across her face had not yet gone away. I went on to ask how long his sentence was. Her look turned from gloom to doom.

Life, no parole, she said.

Damn! How much dope was he sellin’?! I asked in complete and utter shock.

There was no immediate response. Drug related charges were my first thought, simply because my neighborhood traditionally raised hustlers, some legit, some not. The true severity of the situation began to sink in. Henry would never be a free man. I didn’t know Henry to be an individual with terroristic or anti-government ideologies. With that said, there remained one other such crime that would warrant a life sentence with no parole — murder. About the same time my mind had processed the facts given, she went on to explain.

He was convicted for killing his estranged wife, she muttered.

I saw this subject made my friend feel uncomfortable and quickly changed the subject. My mind remained on Henry for some time.

*     *     *

So here it is. I’m now annotating all of my experience, knowledge, and wisdom to help the other individuals going through situations similar to my own. What is my situation you ask? Divorce. Not the kinds of divorces you see on television that are action packed and full of drama, though I would like to think there is even something for individuals who have experienced more drama than Arnold, Eddie, Tom, Martin, Ocho, etc. Not necessarily a divorce involving infidelity, abuse, and the like. I’m talking about the kind of divorce where life just happens.