They start out when you are young and appeal to a deep down primitive part of your mind that seeks it out to for the pleasure, reassurance and safety.
But society has deemed such habits as poor form, not to be done in private let alone in public were it can shock the sensibilities of the decent people of the world.
Things like sucking your thumb, picking your nose, click of the tongue.
I too am afraid have been shackled by such bad behavior.
Brace yourself readers.
For what I am about to reveal to you may shake you to your very core.
I pray that you all do not think less of me for what I am about to reveal to you.
Here it is.
You are reading the blog of the undisputed champion of the self grab.
There I said it, have I blown your mind?
Have I stunned you?
Understand that I am in a elite class of self checkers.
None of this exaggerated for comedy purposes grabs, looking like an idiot.
Nope not the young kid "I don't know what to do with myself but I am sure as hell happy I got one of these joints boy" grabs.
I am talking old school, on the corner, cup it under and lift it up and drop it with the authority of a world leader, grabs.
The first time I saw this I was little kid on the basketball court and one of the local street philosophers was waxing smooth about the mysteries of the black man's life in this country and every time he made a valid point, a high light in his griot like story telling, or punchline he would scoop himself up and drop it.
That was it.
That's all it took for me to see, to adapt the habits of a street delinquent.
But that's how it is with the self check.
All it takes is one bold mutha to check his and next thing you know every dude is checking his before he knows what he is doing.
I have seen a preacher on the pulpit check his and next thing you know half the male congregation is holding the bible in their right hand and the "holy staff" in the other.
I did it every where, I thought some one with no authority over me was looking.
Especially in front of girls, right up close while in conversation about something.
Some would pretend they didn't see me, some would call me out "why you so nasty?!", but the tough ones always had a witty response like "whats up, you got some gold down there you trying to protect?", or my favorite "did you find it?".
I always was knocked down a few pegs by the tough ones but like a good horror movie they kept me coming back for more.
I remember when my mom caught me, I was walking around the house and she said something to me and I smarted off, but that's not what stopped her in her tracks it was exclamation point scoop that I use when I want the final word.
Her eyes locked in as I lifted, following my little crotch to the highest peak and her eyes followed it down as is crashed down getting bigger as if she heard a door slam unexpectedly.
I knew I was toast before my little joint had settled in.
And I knew in that split second that there was no correcting this with out a beating.
But I wasn't going to go quietly, no that's what smart kids do.
I was going to try my luck.
The question was who was going to be quicker me to the room and locking the door or her foot to my butt.
I made my move ducking low and booking through the living room.
That damn women jumped over the couch to get my ass.
She landed with one hand on the back of my neck while the other slapped me up and down senseless.
I didn't even hear what she was saying I was in total shock that she moved that fast.
But alas that did not break my habit, the next time I saw some one do it, BAM!
I was all over my own joint.
As I got older I slowed down and finally stopped, but I would be lying to you if I said I didn't miss my public self checking.
So one last time with style.
