Manhood: How to Be a Better Man-or Just Live with One (28 page)

I couldn’t figure it out.

I always had plenty to say when Rebecca did something I wasn’t happy with, though. For example, my wife could not cook a great meal due to how picky I was about whatever she did. Because I was that critical of myself, I picked her apart, instead of just appreciating the fact that she’d made a hot meal for my family and me. Whatever she did, I always gave her a grade, and I felt fine with that. As far as I was concerned, hey, I get graded at work, and so she had to get graded at home. Instead of having the mentality that we were a team that was working together to make a home and raise our family, I acted as if I was her boss.

It was the same way with my oldest daughters, now that they were teenagers. I always wondered why I was having problems with my family during those years. We could finally stop worrying about money and stress and just relax and enjoy everything, but somehow, we fought more than ever.

One day, Naomi finally faced me. “You can’t control me, Dad,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” I said. “Nobody’s trying to control you. I’m providing for you. That’s just what this is. You’re living in my house.”

It led to a big rift. We were always arguing about something, and she’d finally left home when she was just fifteen years old. At that moment, I didn’t have the clarity to be the adult in that situation, and I was just done with our relationship.

Of course, I was hardest of all on myself. I was incredibly controlling, and it created a tremendous amount of anxiety within me because I was often trying to rule aspects of life that were beyond my control. I tried to bend the world to my will, tried to make things happen, tried to make people like me. If the weather was gray, I wanted to turn it into sunshine. Now I can see that this went back to the lack of control I experienced when I was a kid. But at the time, I didn’t understand anything, and all I knew was how anxious I felt, all of the time, even at moments like this when my life was actually going incredibly well. Even when my agent, and my directors, and my costars reassured me again and again that I was doing a good job, and my career was going well, I couldn’t believe them. When people told me they loved my performance, I didn’t believe they were telling me the truth. Because I was always trying to control others, I believed they were also trying to control me, and their compliments were attempts to manipulate me.

My paranoia warped everything. Even while I was doing
Everybody Hates Chris
, which was by all accounts a very successful show, I became dissatisfied with my own performances. I didn’t feel good about what I was doing or how it was being received. I should have been having the time of my life. I loved working with Chris and Reginald. I’d also been unexpectedly reunited with another old friend when Devon Shepard was hired as a staff writer. It had been years since he wrote for
The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air
, and I was an NFL player, and we marveled at our life paths.

“Can you believe I’m writing for a show you’re starring in?” he asked.

“I know!” I said.

At the same time, I had a head-on-collision with the show’s cocreator and producer, Ali LeRoi. He believed the world revolved
around him. And I believed the same about myself at the time, even though I felt like I was able to keep it off of the set. Let’s just say that when these two viewpoints collided, it didn’t work. Because it was his world, and he’d created it, everything had to go down the way he chose, and this led to many problems.

I often had my lines memorized and all worked out, and then at the last second, Ali changed everything. I tried to reframe my experience and understand that being forced to think on my toes would make me a better actor, but it was exhausting. And then the creative tensions on the set flared up to the point during the second season where Devon left the show, and that really hurt me.

“Man, I wish I could stick it out here for you, brother,” he said. “Can’t do it.”

I knew it was nothing personal between Devon and me, but that was my heart, and his departure made it impossible for me to respect Ali. At the time, if a person did me wrong, even once, that was it, we were done. Given the childhood I’d had, trust was something I hadn’t had the luxury of developing. The same was true of standing up for myself, which I’d always felt there was no point in doing when I knew the other person wasn’t going to listen to me anyhow.

Instead, what I had mastered was the art of avoiding and moving on from many people who’d been very close to me, rather than simply telling them that they’d done something I didn’t like. I was ready to make that move with Ali, and I was ready to do it with the show. But then something remarkable happened.

Realizing the show’s future was in jeopardy, the producers spoke to Ali, and he asked me to sit down with him in the commissary. I did not have high hopes for that conversation. But he
spoke simply and from the heart, and he vowed to change. And then he did. That was huge for me. It made me realize that people can change. Maybe he only made the shift for business purposes, but I didn’t really care, as long as I felt respected. I’d needed to start giving people a second chance, and Ali was the first time I did so in my life. The fact that the results were so positive made me think that maybe I could do it again. The last two years of
Everybody Hates Chris
went well.

That was an amazing time for me. I was invited over to Eddie Murphy’s house by a friend to watch a boxing match. I couldn’t believe it. Eddie Murphy was a megastar, one of those guys who changed entertainment forever, and I was going to his house! My friend picked me up, and we drove to a gated neighborhood in Beverly Hills. I was incredibly nervous when the guard looked at me like he wasn’t going to let me through. But then, a few seconds later, we were on the other side.

It was like rolling through the gates of heaven. Giant sculptured lampposts adorned the streets. Every home we passed was so grand and tasteful that each could probably fit five or six McMansions inside. We pulled up to his house and encountered another huge gate, where my friend stated his name into the intercom on the driver’s side.

The gates opened inward, and I was shocked to see that we were driving over a stone bridge straddling an actual stream that was connected to a waterfall that mysteriously emanated from the house. We parked in the driveway, and I gaped at the Mercedes, Lamborghinis, and Bentleys that sat in full view.

The closer we drew to the house, the more nervous I became. Eddie’s assistant greeted us. He was as cool as could be, and he invited us in and asked if we wanted something to drink. I could hardly close my mouth because the house looked like the interior of a grand mall, with a living room roof that could open
wide on a sunny day. I followed the guys into the kitchen, where champion boxer Sugar Ray Leonard was sitting and talking to MLB all-star Barry Bonds. Arsenio Hall was there and gave me one of the warmest greetings I’ve ever received from a celebrity. The house was full of people who were accustomed to being there, and who clearly made themselves at home, but I was too nervous.

Someone grabbed a remote, and a flat-screen television rose out of a cabinet with every movie known to man listed on the display, and this was in the days before Netflix. The chatter was fairly boisterous until, all of a sudden, Eddie himself stood at the top of the staircase that led down to the kitchen.
Oh my God, there he is
, I thought. Silence from everyone. They must have been thinking the same thing.

Eddie wore a white Muhammad Ali Adidas tracksuit and slippers, and he scanned the crowd as he descended the stairs. After shaking hands with several people, he looked over at me with an inquisitive look on his face. All I could think was:
Uh-oh, maybe he doesn’t want me here
.

Then he made a beeline for me, and now I was certain my assumption was correct. But when he finally stood in front of me, he cracked a slight smile.

“My brother Charlie and I are writing a movie. We’ve got a part we are writing with you in mind. You wanna be in this movie with us?”

I smiled from ear to ear.

“I sure would! I’d be honored to work with you, brother!”

“I’ll get you the script when it’s finished,” he said, smiling at me again.

I can’t believe my life
, I thought.

I hung out there for the rest of the day, and Eddie himself
gave me a tour of his home. There was an actual movie theater with a poster showing the times when several first-run movies would be showing. In his house. Wine cellar, bowling alley, school classrooms for the kids, it was all so incredible. He took us up to the roof, where we could see the Los Angeles skyline. The whole time, I told myself:
Nod and don’t say anything, so you don’t say anything stupid
. We stood overlooking the homes of Samuel L. Jackson, Rod Stewart, and Magic Johnson. I asked him with a neighborhood full of the world’s richest, most distinguished people, if their families ever got together. He laughed.

“We have barbecues and try to act normal, but everybody here can only act normal for so long,” he said with more laughter. “Then you’re reminded that some of these guys haven’t flipped a burger in twenty-five years.”

Then he naturally did his guttural Eddie Murphy laugh, the one that’s entertained millions. I got goose bumps. It was a day I’ll never forget.

The film Eddie and Charlie were writing was
Norbit
, and playing that role was one of the most enjoyable experiences to ever happen to me. I played Big Black Jack, brother to a beast of a woman, Rasputia, played by Eddie. Watching him become another person was a marvel, and I still believe the world has not seen a better actor and comedian. Career-wise, I felt like: Wow, this was
that
major moment for me.

At the same time, Rebecca was struggling with how my newfound celebrity had changed my behavior. I started dressing better. I was into my look, and always in front of the mirror. She came up behind me before we went out.

“Is my skin okay?” I asked.

“What are you talking about?” she said.

And then, I turned it on her, and what she was wearing.

“No, no, no, those glasses are not the right kind of glasses,” I said. “You’ve got to wear this other brand instead.”

“Stop already,” she said.

One day, before a party, I changed three times and the outfit I ended up in was very form-fitting. She looked at me and shook her head in disbelief.

“So you’re trying to be all actorly and Mr. Whatever now?”

“Well, yeah,” I said. “You know, yeah, I am.”

We went to the party, and I actually walked around wearing my sunglasses inside, with this swagger, smoking one of these cigars they were giving out, thinking to myself:
I’m going to act like a star
. When someone talked to me, I blew my smoke right at them and didn’t listen to a word they said, thinking the whole time about what I was going to say and how fabulous and hilarious it was going to be.

Rebecca slid away from me. When I found her, I reached for her hand.

“You know what?” she said, pulling away. “You just go and walk around. I’m going to stay right here. Whatever show you’re doing, you do it over there.”

And I did, I walked around like an idiot—only, at the time, I thought I was Mr. Cool.

When we were in the car driving home, she broke it down for me.

“Honey, I don’t know what that was, but I’m not going out with that again.”

“Why? What? I’m Hollywood now. See, I’m doing it.”

“No, Boo Boo,” she said, which she’s always loved to do. “That’s not how it’s done. You gonna be that, I’m at home. Forget that.”

I was so lucky to have her. As soon as I played that night back in my head I knew it was fake. And I was embarrassed.
I’m telling you, I’m embarrassed to this day. So I vowed, never again. From then on, I knew I always needed to just be me.

There was one change that I wasn’t about to give up, though, because it was actually about becoming the real me I’d always wanted to be but had never been able to finance before then. I could afford to not wear sweats all of the time, and so I made a huge push to finally revamp my wardrobe. I was introduced to a man named Nana Boateng, and Nana changed my life. He’s one of the best menswear designers in the world, and one of my good friends. We sit and talk about clothes and fashion for hours.

At first Rebecca had a problem with my new fashion consciousness, because she looked at it as a threat and a sign that I might be looking to step out on our marriage. Otherwise, she couldn’t figure out why I was turning into this fashion plate when she hadn’t seen me care about this stuff before.

“My thing was always that the kids had what they need,” I said, “and you had what you need, but now that we have a little extra, I’m changing my wardrobe.”

Even when I explained myself, she didn’t like it. She couldn’t shake the feeling that I wanted to attract women or was trying to be this Hollywood guy. Honestly, that was not on my mind at all. For me, when it came to fashion, I’d always experienced the same frustration as when I’d painted a picture that did not match the image in my head. So what I decided during
Everybody Hates Chris
was, now that I had a little more money, I was going to dress how I saw myself in my head.

My grand fashion unveiling happened in 2008 at the premiere for
Get Smart
, which I’d acted in along with Steve Carell, Anne Hathaway, Dwayne Johnson, and Alan Arkin. Going into the opening night, Nana let me know he had something special planned. I was excited but also nervous. The thing about fashion,
especially because I was just getting a name for myself, was that I’d seen how mistakes stayed with a star forever. But I knew if I didn’t do anything, I was missing a great opportunity.

“Okay, Nana, I’m going to get ignored at the premiere,” I said. “We have to do something amazing to make sure I’m seen, and I get my turn on the red carpet.”

“I’ve got just the plan,” he said.

He made me a three-piece salmon suit that looked pink. Now, this was avant-garde, as far as the color went, but the cut was very European, very classy. It fit wonderfully, and it was just this beautiful suit. But it was pink. I’m an artist, but even I was like:
Wow, can I do this? I don’t want people saying I look like a fool
.