June 13, 2006

Old School–Life After Death

I’ll be traveling later this week, so I wanna do an old school record today and try to get a list in tomorrow. Let’s see if i actually pull it off, ha?

I chose Biggie’s Life After Death because it generates a polarity of emotions from hip hop enthusiasts. All would admit that it’s a good record. Only a fool wouldn’t admit that it’s got some spectacular moments. But it’s polarizing because The Source deemed it to be a 5 mic classic when it dropped in ‘97, probably the most controversial rating in the magazine’s history. Some would argue that giving Lil Kim’s The Naked Truth 5 mics was more controversial, but i wouldn’t. We all know that wasn’t no damn 5 mic album, and most of us know why it got that rating (it is a pretty good record, though it’s littered with biting and ghostwriting).

So almost ten years later, how does Life After Death hold up?
Continue reading Old School–Life After Death…

June 12, 2006

Graduation Season

That’s right, folks are walking the stage all over the place. And Baba was there with a camera, training to be come the new millennium version of my Uncle Walter.

So earlier, we went to Mississippi, partied at the pen and watched my amazing niece walk the stage. She’s heading to Alabama A&M in the fall.

Unfortunately, most of my photos are of disturbing things. First, it seems my daddy has taken to wearing straw hats.

It also seems my nephew has taken to wearing bowties. I told him not to go to that damn school.

And the niece, set to conquer the world.

Here’s the other niece, who told me she was too cool to take a picture with me. So I had to pose to keep up with all her cool, ya dig?

These guys are now known the Dutch Graduates. That’s Aden with me and them.

And thank goodness, Sneaky Pete graduated. At least I think he did. He peeled out of his gear, so who knows. He waved to me and Aden in the upper deck after someone that looks like him crossed the stage, but he got out of his cap and gown like the shit was on fire.

But here was the touching moment–I was walking through the Dean Dome (the kids graduated there) and was stopped by a gentleman asking if I was Bomani. I generally fear such things, but I identified myself. He said he was Sneaky Pete’s old man and really appreciated the input Aden and I had on the kid. I must say that warmed my heart.

The later that day, Pete played us some beats he’d been working on. Sneaky Pete’s got beats, jack. Know dat.

Another strange moment–a kid at the niece’s graduation called me “sir.” Holy shit, I’m really at that age now.

And I’m gone. Work calls. I think I’ll write again before too long. Definitely look out next Monday for a package Scoop Jackson and I have worked on commemorating the 20th anniversary of Len Bias’ death.

June 8, 2006

Old School Record of the Week

Well, I feel like I need to add a new feature to Virtual Bomaniland, so I’m going to discuss an old school “classic” every Thursday. Some will be albums I love that everyone loves. Some will be those that were once considered part of the canon but now have been forgotten. Others will be classics that were never that damn good in the first place.

No fancy title. Just the Old School Record of the Week.

This week–Digital Underground’s Sex Packets.
Continue reading Old School Record of the Week…

June 7, 2006

Is It Just a Game?

Mail call coming later, but I wanted to do something quickly on the responses to the piece on Eric Gregg.

Many have come forth and told me I was courageous for admitting my mistakes in a public forum. Interestingly, I don’t see it that way. I’m fucked up like everyone’s fucked up. The world would be a better place if people weren’t so proud about pretending not to be fucked up.

But there was a small minority that hit me up telling me how sick I am and how these are just games. First, it’s pretty clear those people didn’t read the piece. I already said that stuff, folks. Thanks for telling me things I not only knew, but told you I knew. Way to waste your boss’s bandwidth.

I’m not so sold these are just games, though. I’ve followed the Braves for the better part of the last 20 years. My first love wasn’t my girl in high school or college. It was the Atlanta Braves.

And I have no shame in saying that.

Sports teams have a way of generating emotions. I’m really not sure why. Perhaps it’s because the importance of sports has been socialized for so long that I take it as given, but I really don’t think anything is wrong with me ridin’ and dyin’ for the Braves, Heels, Falcons, ‘Horns or anyone else. They stoke my passion and I ride with that.

My problem with myself as it related to Gregg was the indifference I felt when he took ill. That was inhumane, and I was wrong for that. But that’s what happens when love’s involved in something. You take leave of what’s rational and do and feel things that aren’t always right.

But this is not just a game to me. Not just because this is what I do for a living, but because this has been what I’ve done with my life for as long as I can remember. I love my teams and don’t apologize for it.

And neither should anyone else. We should just take note of what that love makes us do.

June 6, 2006

The Dumbest Thing I’ve Ever Heard

Business…today, I’ve got a piece on coming to peace with the late Eric Gregg. No hard feelings.

(And no, the piece isn’t the dumbest thing ever. At least not to me.)

Moving on, I must admit I feel kind of bad about this post. I really don’t think it’s fair to laugh at people for shortcomings beyond their control. So instead of laughing at this story’s protagonist, chastise the system that contributed to him. After you laugh, of course.

So my man Bobo sends me a text yesterday.

“Somebody asked me dead serious what part of Texas Puerto Rico was in.”

Now there was no way this was a true story, so I had to call him and find out the story.

It seems that he was telling a friend of his that he was going to Puerto Rico for a few days. The dude said something positive about him taking this trip…to Texas.

So he said, again, that he was going to Puerto Rico.

“That’s on the other side of Texas, right? What part of Texas is that in?”

So my buddy’s nice enough and deft enough that he was able to provide the dude with an out that wouldn’t embarrass him. He told him that he was talking about the Puerto Rico in the Caribbean.

“That’s over there by Africa, right?”

Public schools. They’re failing. Bad.

But real talk–most people I know are dreadful with geography. Not that bad, but pretty damn bad. We gotta work on that for real. As Big Walt would say, we gotta do it for the bebbies.

June 5, 2006

MySpace Makes Me Feel Old

So a few months ago, I put up one of those MySpace pages. I really ain’t into MySpace like most people. I have a page and that’s it. I’ll scroll through others from time to time, but I’m no vested in it like those people that add songs, create layouts, include every bit of personal information they can, and upload enough photos to get dates, modeling contracts, and show love to their children all at one time.

But since I have a page, folks hit me up from time to time. Since I’ve got my undergrad and high school stuff on there, folks from back in the day find me from time to time. It’s cool. Frequently, I’ll hear from people I’ve wanted to talk to for a while, and that’s all right. I’ve always said that the Internet has effectively limited the excuses people have for not staying in touch. For the most part, people will only lose touch with you if they want to. Damn near all of us are one Google search away. Lord knows I am.

But man, we got a problem–we’re getting to the point where I don’t remember half the jokers that hit me. Even crazier are the people that I haven’t talked to since I graduated high school in ‘97–oh goodness, I have a reunion next year–who don’t have their names on their pages and still expect me to be able to identify them from a picture they took last week even though I haven’t seen them since I was 16.

Moral of the story–I’m getting old.

I mean, folks from college will swear to me that I should remember them. They’ll give me explicit details of how we met, places we’ve been, mutual friends we’ve got…all that stuff. And I swear to you I’ve never met them before in my life.

But I guess I must have. Ain’t like I was so popular as to be ubiquitous. People can’t just tell me things about myself without me having told them (or me having dated a close friend of theirs, which is its own discussion in itself). So maybe I do know them.

Riddle me this–am I the only person that used to have an incredible memory for names and faces that just can’t remember folks like that no more? Does MySpace do that to you, too?

Off to…*shudder* work. At…*shudder* Dook. What people do for money.

June 2, 2006

Game of Shadows

Business…here’s a new piece on “Game of Shadows.”

I feel like I’m about to die, so I’m going back to bed. If you know me, don’t call me. Please.