Rosebudd the American Pimp Pt 2

2

Chapter One

AFTER PIMP LIFE

My name is John Samuel Dickson. A lot of people know me as Rosebudd the PimP and as of recently, some of you might know of me as a genuine student, in pursuit of as much education as I can possibly attain. I recently earned a Masters Degree, in Teaching and Learning with Technology, with a 4.0 gpa. This will be a good compliment to my Bachelors Degree, in Sociology with and Education Concentration, with a 3.87 gpa.

As of 2-11-2014, I will be pursuing another Masters in the field of Psychology. My formal title is, Education Specialist. I’ll also be qualified to counsel and mediate disagreements of all situations of minors and adults, also. I was, on the road to becoming a teacher, a lifelong goal I have had. I’ve had this as a goal as far back as when I first went to Sonoma State College, back in ‘72.

I’m fortunate to have lived a long and very fruitful life. I also realize my golden years are quickly approaching. When I was younger I thought about if I should work and wait for retirement to travel and see the country, maybe the world, or should I travel while youthful and dedicate my golden years to working. I decided that I’d rather travel while I was young and work when I got older, the opposite of the way most people think. For me, traveling while I was a young man is what made these years I have left golden.

This was no accident; the remaining years I have left were made golden by my being a man of great character, integrity, a topflight street player and a gracious human-being. I’ve grown to be a person willing to learn whatever it takes to make progress in my life and I promised myself to adhere to the notion, ‘each one, teach one’.

None of my being a top flight anything is important to you, per say, but by my being Rosebudd the PimP and you with the knowledge that I’ve retired, is of interest to many. What makes it interesting is the ‘why’ of it all. ‘Why’, has had an allure to it since the beginning of time. Scholarly men and women have always seen it as a topic to discuss and theorize about.

My speaking of how good of a person I am, or the changes I’ve made, most likely means nothing to you … but I’ll bet my last dollar, that a lot of you want to know why I retired. Most of you cannot accept that it’s true and I’m sure a lot of that is because I am constantly on Face Book, on someone’s case about PimPin, or in most cases, mis-PimPin.

Here in this book, I’m going to reveal to you a few things that are quite personal. In the end, we’ll add them up and together we’ll discover why I left the Game. I have learned in life there are a series of changes you will go through, whether you want to go through them or not. There is an enormous number of changes one goes through during their lives, but of that number, only a few major changes people share alike as they go through life.

There is the change we all undertake when becoming a young boy, or girl who understands language. No matter what language you speak, it’s the same wonderment for all children. Learning to communicate is one of, if not the most important change in life that we make. Once that happens, a new world opens to us, and we become very inquisitive about things we once only noticed. This is the stage of our lives where we began to wonder, ‘Why’. Think about how much a child asks, ‘why’.

Then there is the change of becoming a teenager. This change is the signal that your life is progressing to one day your being an adult. It’s at this point you start to show individualism in your changes. You are about to join the real world and will make decisions that you’re not prepared to make, but you will have to make them to prepare yourself for the life you are going to have.

The next important change is becoming 18, which signals becoming grown and responsible for your own life. These are important changes for any person; but I’m more concerned with the changes after, or slightly before that 18-year-old change, that we all experience.

It’s these changes, the changes between 18 and 21 years old, that molds the most significant years of our lives. These are the years we’re in control or, should be getting control of our destinies. When you recognize that you’re about to become the controller of your life, a different kind of feeling of uncertainty comes with that realization … an uncertainty you are completely unfamiliar with.

The difference with the uncertainty you feel now is, you

will have to deal with it on your own. You must manage

with the knowledge you have gained in life, thus far. The reason this is scary is, up until now the only thing you have done on your own is take out the trash or, use the bathroom. I’m being facetious here, but I’m sure you know what I mean.

Right before you’re 18, you begin to dream about being on your own, but you don’t really consider how much of that ‘being on your own’, includes your parents’ help. After you move out, it will take another 2 to 4 years to master, being able to live on your own. It takes everyone a few years of trial and error, before they have a grasp on what it takes to be on your own.

After 18, the changes take on a different meaning to us and the importance of accepting these changes are magnified. The big thing about these new changes are they will alter your destination just enough for you to feel a comfort zone developing, then, those very changes will show you the same path you were on in the first place. A great percentage of the population ends up doing what they planned, all along.

What I mean is, from my earliest memories, for some reason I’ve always wanted to be important. For me, being the center of attention was not enough. I had to be ‘special’ in my own way. I don’t mean I wanted treatment any other than I deserved; because I knew I would deserve ‘special’. I have always been a standout in sports and in just about anything I pursued, I was in the higher echelon of it.

I grew up competing and losing to all my brothers and through it all I really wanted to be a well-known person. I did not especially want to be an entertainer, but that would have worked. I certainly did not want to be any kind of a political figure, or any leader. But … I did have a great thirst to be an important person. I don’t really know where that thirst began, but if anyone influenced me in that direction, it was my father.

Clinton Dickson, Sr. was quite well known in the city of Vallejo, Ca. He had a lot to do with how the city survived, but he was not a politician. He chaired a lot of our city’s committees and he was always having meeting of some kind, at our house concerning the wellbeing of our community, but that wasn’t his job. He was an electronic, today he’d be one of those dudes who works on computer boards.

He never ran for any office, but the major players of the city; from the Mayor, to the Police Chief, down to the city Councilman, all would seek out Mr. Dickson’s advice on things concerning the citizens, or politics of Vallejo. My father was kind of a voice for the community, representing the voiceless black citizens.

He was always in the background of the event but, was always called upon to speak. He was the first black, Chevron service station owner in Vallejo, a 36th degree Mason and a truly great father. He was a low key, type of person, but if someone had an idea for the community’s improvement, they came to my father and if the idea was sound, he would do all he could to help, and it would happen.

When my father passed, the Masons stood guard over his body for 72 straight hours. He was buried with many honors from that group of men, because his respect was earned the hard way, the old-fashioned way. He worked for it. He set a lot of precedents for a black man at the time in Vallejo and he and my mother were and still are the role models for my entire family.

What I got from that, was my father was important and didn’t make a big deal of it. His importance didn’t make him ‘act’ like he was important. It surely didn’t make him any money, but the way he carried himself, people looked up to him. I’m sure he got pleasure from being the one with the answers for his friends and their families; and his children got the prestige of being, ‘one of the Dicksons’.

One thing I know is, my dad was proud of me. He knew what I did, but I am a respectful son in all aspects to

my parents and would never floss, or acknowledge I was a PimP, to either of them. I remember when I bought my Rolls Royce. I rode to Vallejo and went to my parent’s home to pay them a quick visit.

My pops was in his normal attire; blue overalls and a twisted little hat he wore, working in the front yard. I never fronted with my hoes, but this time I had 4 white girls with me. So, I ran up to pops and shook his hand and went in to kiss moms. When I came back out, I was smiling and told pops of my accomplishment in buying cash, a Rolls Royce.

My pops put his foot on the shovel and said, Boy, you really think you doing something, don’t you?

I reached in my back pocket and pulled the pink slip out of my wallet, to emphasize I had cashed out a RR. I showed it to my father and he chuckled as he walked towards the backyard and looked at me. I walked over to my pops and he told me something that let me see just why I was such a hoe magnet.

Boy, I seen a time when it took me thirty days of one month and fifteen days of the next month, just for me to see all of my women, and he walked further into the backyard.

He stopped, turned, and started to walk me back towards my car. As he did, he was smiling and looking at my rings. He grabbed my hand, examining them as we walked and when I got to the car, I introduced my father to my broads. Afterwards, I hopped in and backed out. When I put my car in drive, my father gave me his approval for one of the few times in my life and I was stoked when he did.

As I drove off, I heard my father say, Do it, boy!

All of us would do just about anything to hear either of our parents give us a compliment. My father hardly ever did, but my mother would compliment us on the Christian things we did and sometime she would compliment me on how ‘apt’ I was. Neither of them was really big on paying compliments to kids, especially when it was something that children should know to do.

Always knowing we need their approval, no matter what we were doing, is what made us so well respected whenever someone found out we were a Dickson. All of my brothers and sisters were well respected all over Vallejo, because of our parents … my mother’s faith and my father’s savvy.

I’m telling you, my father would have all kinds of men to our home … all seeking some kind of advice. It also could have been because of my mother’s gracious ways and her cookies and cakes she’d bake for snacks. She was known for her baking skills throughout the city.

My dad was a pillar of the community and most every adult male in the hoods had a story about how ‘Bro Dick’ helped them. Many personally, but mostly my father did something for their families when they were in some kind of need. That was another significant thing passed on to us by our parents, ‘family first’, after God.

We didn’t know it then, but every single one of us were proud of our father, even though we didn’t actually know where he fit in; because he was not a politician, he was not a minister, but for some reason people came to him for advice. My father’s door was open to all who needed some kind of help, all hours of the day or night.

My father in reality was the common man, but with a twist-he knew everything, about everything and he raised us all to be that way. Unintentionally, I took this life lesson with me throughout my search for who I would become. I have five brothers older than me and one younger and they are all the Casanova type brothers. A trait we all got from our father. This put a lot of pressure on me to have a lot of women coming up.

At the time, I didn’t think I was cutting the mustard and it ‘worked on my head’ a little. It was a combination of things that use to bother me and after a while it culminated in me becoming a young man with a definite, particular outlook on life. I wanted it all, no matter what I had to do, I wanted it and no one was going to stop me from getting it.

I wanted what I saw my father as having-prestige; and I wanted what my brothers had-women. All of my brothers also had nicknames and I didn’t. I really don’t think that’s a big deal-but when you are a kid-and it’s cool to have a nickname-and all of your brothers have one-and you don’t, you feel out of it, or at least I did.

I didn’t let it develop into personality problem, it was quite the opposite. It made me very competitive. I competed with my younger and older brothers in all the different categories of growing up and mostly I lost. The only things I didn’t lose in was track and school work. I was fast as hell and just as smart. My younger brother, Steve had waaaay more women than I did and my older brother Gip, was off the chains in that category.

There