Today, I met Tony...

And what a specimen.
Lots of attitude, lots of testosterone, kinda short on several saving graces. Like communication; for one.

Then again, what he was communicating was raw. It was primal. It was real... He was like a living, breathing characature.
Drama.

Okay, so here's the scenario:
Sacramento's multimillion-dollar courthouse on its acres of grounds - they even constructed a park in its rear, complete with a fountain sprouting out of a man-made lake.
Crime, jails and courts support an entire community here.

I arrive to file custody papers against Glenda Darlene Goodwin, A medical Ob/Gyn doctor who is actively keeping my son from me. I exit the elevator from the lower level parking lot on an otherwise sunny day, still kinda cool for a September morning.

As I turn towards the court house entrance, I see a tall, dark, chocolate-skinned Black man agitatedly stepping up and down on an walkway barrier separating the walkway from the bushes and grass beyond. He stood about six-foot two or so, I'm sure shorter without his shoes... He looked fairly athletic but hid his physique in an over sized, grey, open neck, collared leisure shirt.

When he saw me, he straightened slightly and stepped down. I thought, 'Jeez, here we go.'
Sure enough, as soon as I passed, he began walking three-quarters behind me to the right. Perfect cheap-shot position.

"I'm tony! You must be Greg. (I fought the urge to say, that's grrrrrrreaat!) You hang up on me and call the police on me like a bitch! You're less than a woman to me."
Good thing I don't base my man hood on his scales. I think I could have been insulted.

Okay. Bravado, anger; maybe.
My reflexes awaited the curling swing that never ocurred.
I said nothing to his taunts. When he saw they were not having the desired effect on me, we arrived at the the doors with metal detectors, and several Sheriffs just beyond, he threw an gentle elbow into my upper gut and lower ribcage. The ball player in me thought, "Who is this guy trying to box me out? The Mui-Thai boxer in me said, "grab him by the neck until unconscious." While so many guard duty hours told me there is a time and place for deadly force, and this ain't one.

He must have said something about my mama, cause as we were...
Okay, that was an exaggeration.

He was ahead of me. He placed his things on the X-ray belt, then, still selling woof-tickets, he squared off with me, standing toe-to-toe with me, eyeball to eye ball, vis a vis... Mano-aMano....
can somebody please whistle, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly theme... (Right about five lines ago. It's okay; go back and start there.

So there we stood, in front of three armed sheriffs, more in the dark-glassed booth to our left and the most peculiar thing happened for me.
I looked into his eyes; brown, a bout an inch lower than mine. He looked back into mine. I had no energy for him. I was waiting for his first, okay maybe second or third stupid move. It never came. He told me I knew where he was sleeping. Yes, with my ex. So.
But, she is not married to Anthony Mangram. He lives there with her. She is sending my son to a Christian school, but is and has been living with this... Gentleman for two years, according to my 10-year-old son's report. According to Tony's admission.

"Yeah! You know where I'm sleeping - I'm sleeping with Glenda. Don't ask your son's going on in that house, ask me.
He's not legally in my family or my son so he has no rights to interfere. Not to mention...

Anyway, after seeing no real fire in his eyes, I told him not to get between me and my son.
He blathers on, to which I reiterated several times, "Don't get between me and my son. To which he eventually said, "Well, you're going to come to me to pick up your son."

I looked at him and thought, 'hmm, that's what restraining orders are for.'

I went to the room I was instructed to report to and began filling out the last lines of the custody paperwork.
He paced, he hovered, he approached and began taunting me for a third time-a.
At that point an armed Sheriff came out and confronted him. She said, that he had started and had been antagonistic toward me. Glenda sat on a steel chair, silent.

The Sheriffs took reports, I considered filing charges. An officer asked me if I was injured. Recommended I drop the charges because he would counter charge me... Welcome to some stupid, California laws. But recommended I file a restraining order.

So, the Jedi mind trick worked and I spent the next few hours filling out and filing restraining order papers. I'll find out if the judge grants it Monday.

Meanwhile, the judge ordered a hearing for October about getting better visitation without the drama. I was wondering if she knew how all this madness is affecting him. I was hoping to take MAX to a camping trip later this month.
So much for that.

After court, I made a bee-line for church and shot video of gospel legends Shirley Ceasar and Yolanda Adams for the next nine hours.

God is Good.

La, la, la...