When I was a kid, Good Times was one of my favorite shows. JJ Evans had me cracking up every episode with his wild expressions and crazy catchphrases. Florida reminded me of my grandmother — strong, spiritual, and stubborn in the best way. Thelma reminded me of my annoying sisters — always loud, always right, and always in your business. And James — that man reminded me of my father, and all the men I grew up under. Hard men. Men who didn’t make excuses, who led with their hands, their hearts, and their grit.
Even Michael, the young activist, inspired me back then. He made me think, made me believe in fighting for something bigger than myself. Back when activism was real. When it meant responsibility, not victimhood. When it meant standing for principles, not hashtags.
But as a grown man, Good Times hits different. I find it hard to watch now. Maybe it’s because the older I get, the harder it is to stomach seeing Black folks trapped in those same cycles — poverty, struggle, and systemic dependency — portrayed like its destiny. The man I’ve become refuses to accept that image as our ceiling.
Still, there’s one episode that always gets me — the one where JJ gets shot. I’ll never forget how that hit me. I was ready for James to handle business — to put in that work like any father would if his son got gunned down by some street punk. But what happened instead? We saw what real manhood looks like.
When James confronted Mad Dog — the teenager who shot JJ — you could feel the rage boiling under his skin. Every muscle in his face said, “I could end you right now.” But he didn’t. He looked past the crime and saw the broken boy behind it.
And the moment that changed everything came just before that. Mad Dog’s mother showed up. She looked at her son and told him she was ashamed of him — said she wished he’d never been born. Then she said, “If your father were here…” and before she could finish, Mad Dog snapped back, “He’d be a wino in the gutter!” She slapped him across the face and stormed out.
That’s when Mad Dog broke. He yelled after her, “He ran out, didn’t he? Where was he when we needed him, Momma? I don’t need him! I don’t need nobody!” Then he punched the wall, stared at it, and turned to James. “You wanna hit me too?” he said.
James just looked at him and said, “No.” That’s when it all clicked. James realized Mad Dog wasn’t just some thug — he was a broken kid who’d never been taught how to be a man. He was angry at the world because the world never gave him structure, guidance, or love.
And right there, in that moment, James Evans taught a lesson most men today don’t even understand. He showed that real strength isn’t just in the fists you throw — it’s in the control you keep. He had every reason to destroy that boy, but he chose to rise above it.
How do you find empathy for someone who shot your son? You do it when you’re a man who understands pain — not as an excuse, but as a truth. That episode didn’t just show us who James Evans was — it showed us what we’re supposed to be. Watching it now, I respect James more than ever. He wasn’t just a TV dad — he was a symbol of the discipline, pride, and integrity that once defined the men in our community. Men who didn’t need to be superheroes — they just needed to be present.
Maybe that’s why Good Times feels harder to watch now. Because what was once a reflection of our struggle has become a reminder of how far we’ve drifted from those values.
The Angryman
When “Good Times” Hit Different as a Grown Man
When I was a kid, Good Times was one of my favorite shows. JJ Evans had me cracking up every episode with his wild expressions and crazy catchphrases. Florida reminded me of my grandmother — strong, spiritual, and stubborn in the best way. Thelma reminded me of my annoying sisters — always loud, always right, and always in your business. And James — that man reminded me of my father, and all the men I grew up under. Hard men. Men who didn’t make excuses, who led with their hands, their hearts, and their grit.
Even Michael, the young activist, inspired me back then. He made me think, made me believe in fighting for something bigger than myself. Back when activism was real. When it meant responsibility, not victimhood. When it meant standing for principles, not hashtags.
But as a grown man, Good Times hits different. I find it hard to watch now. Maybe it’s because the older I get, the harder it is to stomach seeing Black folks trapped in those same cycles — poverty, struggle, and systemic dependency — portrayed like its destiny. The man I’ve become refuses to accept that image as our ceiling.
Still, there’s one episode that always gets me — the one where JJ gets shot. I’ll never forget how that hit me. I was ready for James to handle business — to put in that work like any father would if his son got gunned down by some street punk. But what happened instead? We saw what real manhood looks like.
When James confronted Mad Dog — the teenager who shot JJ — you could feel the rage boiling under his skin. Every muscle in his face said, “I could end you right now.” But he didn’t. He looked past the crime and saw the broken boy behind it.
And the moment that changed everything came just before that. Mad Dog’s mother showed up. She looked at her son and told him she was ashamed of him — said she wished he’d never been born. Then she said, “If your father were here…” and before she could finish, Mad Dog snapped back, “He’d be a wino in the gutter!” She slapped him across the face and stormed out.
That’s when Mad Dog broke. He yelled after her, “He ran out, didn’t he? Where was he when we needed him, Momma? I don’t need him! I don’t need nobody!” Then he punched the wall, stared at it, and turned to James. “You wanna hit me too?” he said.
James just looked at him and said, “No.”
That’s when it all clicked. James realized Mad Dog wasn’t just some thug — he was a broken kid who’d never been taught how to be a man. He was angry at the world because the world never gave him structure, guidance, or love.
And right there, in that moment, James Evans taught a lesson most men today don’t even understand. He showed that real strength isn’t just in the fists you throw — it’s in the control you keep. He had every reason to destroy that boy, but he chose to rise above it.
How do you find empathy for someone who shot your son? You do it when you’re a man who understands pain — not as an excuse, but as a truth. That episode didn’t just show us who James Evans was — it showed us what we’re supposed to be.
Watching it now, I respect James more than ever. He wasn’t just a TV dad — he was a symbol of the discipline, pride, and integrity that once defined the men in our community. Men who didn’t need to be superheroes — they just needed to be present.
Maybe that’s why Good Times feels harder to watch now. Because what was once a reflection of our struggle has become a reminder of how far we’ve drifted from those values.
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