October 30, 2006

Another Moment in Growing Up

So I was listening to the boPod in the office when Mya’s “Best of Me” remix came on.  I’m a big fan of that song, purely because of the Jigga verses.  I could go on all day long about those verses, but this was the first time in a few years I’d actually paid much attention that what Mya was saying.  You’ll have to forgive me, but she rarely has anything to say that I find worth listening to.

But I digress.

Should you be unfamiliar with the song–or just don’t remember it that well–the whole premise is that she doesn’t know what to do because she’s got a man, but she’s met a dude that’s really captivated her.  If I’m interpreting the song right, he also kisses her on the neck a few times.

Her internal question?

“Should I stay?  Should I go?  I don’t know.”

Uhhh, yes you do, moron.  Take your stupid ass home. 

But you know what?  She may as well stay.  She’s already done enough to get sent packing by her man.  Maybe she should have asked the question sooner.

For purposes of intellectual exploration, though, let’s assume that she asked the question sooner.

It’s one of those queries with only one right answer.  You know what you should do.  It’s just a matter of whether you’ll actually do it.  And, in this case, it was too late.

It kinda made me think about part of the reason I’m not particularly enamored with contemporary music.  It’s not that things ain’t like they were in my golden youth or anything.  It’s because pop music is littered with themes that i find to be either stale or just plain stupid.

This song is just plain stupid.  You can’t pose this one as though it’s really a quandary.  Were the song about the guilt she was feeling, then I’d look at it differently.  But this “I don’t know what to do” bullshit is met from me with nothing but a cocked brow and a great big, “g’head wit dat dere.”

But when I was 19 or so, I really may have listened to that song and said, “you gotta be in that situation to understand what she’s talking about.”  Now, I’m 26.  I’ve been in that situation before.  I’ve messed up in that situation, too.  But not for a minute did I pretend like it was some moral dilemma.  It was a battle between what I wanted to do right then and what I knew I was supposed to do.

You don’t need to fetch Nietschze for that one.  There’s nothing deep about balancing whether something will be fun with whether that fun thing will be harmful.  If that balance were so tough to navigate, I’d probably be a heroin addict.

But it ain’t.  So I’m not.

Anyway, this is what I find in all kinds of stuff I listen to.  I listen a lot less hip hop than I used to because it’s starting to feel like I’ve heard it all before.  That isn’t to say what’s out now is worse than what was out when I was in high school.  It’s just that I’ve been listening to much of the same stuff since I was in high school.

And I’m bored.

Nostalgia makes it possible for me to go back and listen to stuff from the younger days.  And there are some classics that will bang forever, no matter how cliche they are (for example, check Young Jeezy’s Let’s Get It: Thug Motivation 101).  But it ain’t so easy for me to listen to a new jack hit me with this stuff and get me interested.

I find now that I’m deepening my familiarity with the classics.  I also spend a bit of time charting the progressions of my favorite artists.  But it’s very, very rare I hear something new that really invigorates me.

I just need something new.  Or maybe I need to be younger.  Not sure which.

October 26, 2006

Lie to Me!

Business…here’s why I think it was okay for Doc Rivers to lie through his teeth about Sebastian Telfair.

I greet you today from scenic Belle Vernon, PA.  I’m here to interview Calvin Brock, who’s fighting Wladimir Klitschko next month for the IBF title.  Tonight, I’ll get to watch him spar and do an interview over breakfast tomorrow.  Should be pretty cool.

But goodness gracious, I better make sure I’m full at 10pm.  Cuz this ain’t no 24 hour sort of place.  I’m in the boondocks, baby.

But no joke, this area is really beautiful this time of year.  It’s not witch-tit cold, and the leaves are making a smooth transition from green to orange, with a lovely stop at yellow.  And when you look off the freeway, all you see is trees.  It’s really cool.

Unless you’re looking for a gas station.

The way they keep this place so gorgeous is by moving those obtrusive signs of modernity a few miles off the freeway.  That might be a fair trade if you’re from this place, but not if you’re coming in for a day from North Carolina.  Man, if I was getting gas instead of gum, I might have broken down looking for a BP.  You’ll see the gas station from the freeway, the big towering sign, and then you’ll get off the highway and think you lost your mind.  That was a bit of a hassle.

As were all the dead deer on my hour drive from the airport in Pittsburgh to my room in Belle Vernon.  Unofficial count–four.  And that’s not counting the possums.

Anyway, off to eat.  I think I’ll check out this Eat ‘N Park place Josie keeps talking about.  Or I’ll be a walking stereotype and hit up the Colonel.  New stuff is cool, but I haven’t had one of those biscuits in a while.  That’s good eatin’ right there.

October 25, 2006

How’d You Miss Him?

You gotta feel bad for this guy.  First, it’s gotta suck to be falsely accused of having kiddie porn.  I would argue that this crime is the most frowned upon in this society.  And I ain’t mad at that.

Plus, they must have pulled out the big guns on him.

I say that because the only way I don’t notice that Shaq is in the room is if I’m preoccupied by the barrel of a gun.  Even if I’m handcuffed with a foot in my back, I’m gonna wonder, “man, who’s that Shaq lookin nigga in the corner?”

You can’t put a 7-footer in a room and think it won’t get noticed.  The reason is that it’s more than likely that any 7-footer you see on the street is one you’ve seen on TV.  I’ve never been around or heard of anyone that tall that didn’t play ball.  Save for that big boxer that’s out right now, that is.

But if you’re that tall, you can get a tryout on just about any level.  I don’t there’s a D-1 school that wouldn’t let you hang out on the bench for four seasons.

So if there’s a flash of a 7-footer out the corner of my eye, I don’t think I’ll be able to withhold the urge to think, “who did he play for?”

Plus, it’s Shaq.  Shaq’s pretty famous.  High Q rating and all that.

October 24, 2006

We Go Back

So I’ve had an unusually emotional 24 hours or so.  Nothing crazy, but just on of them weeks.

Either way, had one of those moments that couldn’t do anything but make me smile.

Called my boy Will, my oldest friend.  I’ve known Will since I was 7 years old, and we’ve rolled tight ever since.  Only thing is we don’t get to talk that much on the phone.  Since I graduated from HS before the cell phone boom, we never got each other in the regular calling rotation like that.  Plus, I’m not sure the last time we could keep a phone conversation within three hours.

But I was riding today and Tribe’s “Check the Rhime” came on.  That prompted me to shoot Will a text.

“You on point, Will?”

Now, this was about noon on a work day (when you work at home, you can send random texts in the afternoon).  I don’t think we’ve talked in weeks.  And this song wasn’t a reference to anything we talked about all the time or anything.  But, like clockwork…

“All the time, Bo.”

There’s always something to be said to having one person that always knows what you’re talking about, yanno?

October 20, 2006

Gettin’ In Touch With My Kuntree Side

Went with my girlfriend to the North Carolina State Fair last night. I haven’t been to a fair in at least ten years, but I was made to feel right back at home when I saw some of the same rides that were at the Waller County Fair back in the day. And when I say the same rides, I mean the same rides. I’m willing to bet there’s a piece of gum stuck to walls of the Zipper that I left back in ‘89.

That said, I had a lot of interesting realizations while I was there. First, I need to call and thank my parents for my childhood. Me and my girl made a day of it–movies, got my feet done (more on that later, but just know it was necessary to the point where I’m pretty sure I went down a half size no each shoe getting all that gunk off my feet; the woman asked me if something she did tickled, completely unable to tell that those powerful callouses meant I haven’t felt anything on the bottom of my feet in about eight years), and capped off by going to the fair and coming back to the Estate to watch the second half of the Carolina/Virgina “game.”

Anyway, since she paid for the movies and bought the canned goods that got us into the fair, I decided I’d cover everything at the fair. So I hit the ATM and pulled out a note. Figured that would leave plenty for the rest of the weekend and beginning of next week.

According to my wallet, I spent $55 at that thing. And we ain’t even do that much!

Damn turkey legs cost $7.50! They woulda cost $7, but we figured the dude charging $7 was trying to gouge people. Maybe he was, but he was cuttin’ folks a bargain. That friends, is supply/demand equilibrium at work.

BTW, here’s a picture of the leg…and the turkey holding it.

(If you take econ from me at Elon, we’re going to talk about those turkey legs.)
Riding the ferris wheel? $4.50 per person.

Apple dumpling and a piece of apple pie? $6 total.

Water? $2 a bottle.

And some other stuff I can’t remember.

How’s this relate to the parents? I used to go to stuff like this with my parents, and I never remember them saying I couldn’t get on a ride or something because of money. Man, let that have been me holding the wallet…the kids wouldn’t have been ridin’ shit. Not a lick. Stuff was ’spensive, man!

But my parents did those things to make sure I had a good time. For that, I love them. And other stuff, too, but that’s why I love them today.

Also this joint was a heart attack waiting to happen. Lemme show you just how many things in this world can be deep fried.

There was also a stand that had deep friend Oreos.  Another with fried cheeseburgers, which is like pouring rubbing alcohol into a bottle of Everclear.
Who got the bright idea to do all this stuff? Why not just kick yourself in the chest to move all that stuff through your heart? Goodness, man. Not everything is meant to be fried. Most stuff, but not everything. They probably would have had fried whiskey, but that would burn away all the alcohol.

Overall–good time. And not to pick on nobody, but there were times I was in a large group and couldn’t help but thing that she and I were the only two people in that posse that had ever been on an airplane before.

And the jokes Carolina folks make about State fans began to make a lot more sense.

Also saw a blacksmith there. The sign said “Heritage Forge” on it. Got the two of us to thinking–you ever notice how uncomfortable black people get when white people use the word “heritage” in reference to a business or organization? And you ever notice how uncomfortable white people get when black folks do the same? Ahh, the dangers of revisionist history.

I think I’m starting to ramble now. Big news to share soon. And next week, I think I’m going to start doing picks of NFL games or something. Need a new feature since I’ve been too busy to keep up the ones I started before.

October 19, 2006

When Keepin’ It Real Went Wrong…

Business…let’s all laugh at Lamar Thomas’ monologue on TV, shall we?

Further, here’s a glimpse at how I became the sorta guy I am today.  I sent my brother a copy of the draft of this piece a couple of days ago.  I do that from time to time because his job is has blocked espn.com.  Anyway, he then responded with his own Lamar moment, this being based on the hilarious mollywoppin Jerry Stackhouse gave Jeff Hornacek in 1995 or 1996.  I can’t find a clip online, so just ask someone about it if you haven’t seen it.  Anyway, Mumba J. drops the following pearl.

I don’t know why y’all trippin.  That was pure comedy son.   Hornacek ran up on my man with no plan.  Buddy looked like he thought he was gonna have a close up conversation.  Stack was like,  just what I needed., Tak, tak, Bow!!  Just like justifiable homicide, free shots.  You can’t turn that down just cause the cat runnin’ up on you ain’t really gon throw.  Free shots man.  Hard to come by at the U, cause everybody is down to throw dog.  Everybody. 

And yes, I am such a typical little brother.  How did you know?

Right fast, something interesting’s going on here in rap music.  Fabolous got locked up the other day on a weapons’ charge.  The reports on that have listed his age as 28.

Interestingly, no one’s made a peep about this.  I say that because his people have kinda been careful about making sure people didn’t realize he was too damn old to be rappin’ like that.  I’m friends with one of this cousins, and I once asked her how old he was.  Her response was that she’s signed paperwork that precludes her from sharing that.  I doubt she actually signed something, but that’s nothing you can tell a writer.  Understood there.  But she did give it a way when she talked about what a Big Daddy Kane fan he was, which isn’t something you hear too often about someone from the age range he’s been kinda purported as being.

Now, when Lil Wayne got locked up not too long ago, we found out that he was much older than previously thought.  The word was that he was 16 when he did stuff on 400 Degreez.  That would have made him a couple of years older than me.  I don’t remember exactly what the numbers were, but he’s actually older than me.

And no one cared.

It’s actually a pretty big deal with Weezy because much of the hook with him has been precociousness.  We compare him with Tip because they’re supposedly the young guns in this rap thing, the two cats that’ll take the South into the future.  But uhhhh, Weezy ain’t that young, really.

But really, no one cared a lick about either.  I’m not sure what to make of that, but I found it to be rather interesting.  All that care was taken to misrepresent these dudes ages…and they ain’t even have to do all that.

October 17, 2006

What’s your favorite Law and Order?

Business…here’s a look between the lines of Denny Green’s meltdown last night.  Funnnnn-y stuff that was.

I intended to take today off after a hellish last five or six days–btw, I never made it to Vermont, and that was the least of the twubbles.  So today, I’m getting a haircut, cleaning my house, and chillin’ out.  Talk amongst yourselves about anything.

Here’s a suggestion.  Pick your favorite Law and Order–the original, SVU, or CI.  Right now, I go with SVU.

October 16, 2006

She Get It From Her Mama…

Flavor of Love is done.  If the Celebreality gods are kind, they’re done for good.  There’s no room to break this out again.  And, to be honest, I wouldn’t want to see it again.  There’s only so many times I can watch a bunch of B-actresses try to get their breaks.

But if this is the end, did they or did they not go out with a BANG?

I ain’t got time to summarize it, but here’s what the lesson for everyone to learn–your mama can kill things in your relationship just by being who she is.

If your mama is crazy, chances are you’ve got some loco in you–yes, you–too.  That’s just how it goes.  Crazy people tend to raise crazy kids.  More importantly, the way your parents interact is very likely to affect the way you interact with your mate.  That’s just how it goes.

Of course, Flav was gonna cut New York off because of her crazy mama.  Flav’s in his mid-40s.  He’s lived long enough to know that crazy people tend to raise crazy kids.  I know that, and he’s got me beat by at least 20 years.  Anybody with any game knows that you don’t make a serious decision about a (wo)man unless you’ve got a good handle on what kinds of people her parents are and what the dynamics of the parental relationship is.

We all saw that New York’s mama was mad dramatic, and her father seemed resigned just to watch it happen and laugh in the background…but definitely laughing quietly.  And Flav, assuming you buy into any notion of realism on this show, wasn’t trying to live like that.  Gotta respect that.

So she’s gone and Deelishis won.  Good for her.  I’m not sure what to make of this, but she seems to really be concerned for Flavor Flav.  She must dig him because she let that dude cut her dress with a knife when her zipper wouldn’t work.  If a woman’s willing to destroy her threads to give you some lovin’, you got a keeper.  Especially when you’re Flavor Flav, good gracious.
My advice–if you’ve got crazy parents, you’ve got to acknowledge that and try to counteract effects of being exposed to that insanity.  The crazy mama can limit your pool of potential applicats to other crazy people, and that ain’t no good.

October 13, 2006

25 Dope Remixes

Business…here’s my welcoming letter for college hoops season in the ACC. It’s pretty fun.

Moving on, been a while since I’ve been able to do a list. Having a real job has really cut into the blogging time. Either way, I’m back.

Now let’s go…

Shut ‘Em Down, Public Enemy. Possibly the gold standard.

Player’s Anthem, Junior M.A.F.I.A. Of course because for Biggie’s verse. “That’s OK, she was old anyway…”

All About the Benjamins, Puff Daddy and the Family. I’m hesitant to add this because the remix is the version that’s most commonly known. However, it’s too dope not to put on any list when given the opportunity.

One More Chance, Notorious B.I.G.  I think I’m done adding Biggie stuff, I promise. But it’s amazing how something as raw and, quite honestly, vulgar as the album version of “One More Chance” could be turned into something as smooth as the remix.

Freek’n You, Jodeci.  When Ghost and Rae seemed like they had the best chemistry outside of Run DMC.

Re-Akshon, Killer Mike. Really, Mike’s criminally underrated. As is this cut, which has the best non-”Murder” verse from Bun-B.
Hell Yeah, dead prez. I’ll be honest–this song is pretty friggin’ ignorant at points. The idea that robbing the pizza man is an act of revolution is preposterous. However, the song’s doep, the track’s incredible, and Jigga is Jigga.

PSA II, Jay-Z.  Is this one better than the original? I believe so.

Feelin On Yo’ Booty, R. Kelly. Yeah, I said it. And I’ll swear by it.

Anything, SWV. O-o-o-oooo-ol’…

Scenario, A Tribe Called Quest.  I still haven’t gotten tired of this one.

Dead Wrong, Notorious B.I.G.  Okay, one more with Biggie, but just because the Eminem verse is absolutely incredible.

Take You Out, Luther Vandross. This isn’t next-level dope, but putting that song over Snoop’s “Lay Low” was a great move.

Get By, Talib Kweli. I point specifically to the one with Mos, Jigga, Kanye and Busta. For this was the moment I realized that Kanye was going to pull of a serious solo career. Even with his awkward flow and, at that time, dreadful breath control, he outshines that all-star cast.

I Got 5 On It, Luniz. I think everybody in Oakland but Bobby Seale and Short were on this cut.

Love No Limit, Mary J. Blige. Mary’s one of the few people to put out a remix album that I actually liked. And from that record, this is my favorite one.

Pick a Song, God’s Stepson. I’m not as big a Little Brother fan as I was before, but 9th shows his ass on every track here.

All I Need, Method Man. I’m referring to the Razor Sharp remix, not the Puff Daddy joint. The Razor Sharp version might be the most improbably Top 5 Pop single ever, even more surprising than “When Doves Cry.”

Ladies Night, Lil Kim and every female rapper working at the time. I’m not wild about the cheesy Kool and the Gang sample, but the ladies handle bidness on this one.

How High, Redman and Method Man. Help me out here–was the version on The Show the remix? That’s the one I’m going with here. But to be honest, the other version’s pretty dope, too.

Simon Says, Pharoah Monch. Redman, baby. “Respect me like the Fonz, you see the collar up.” Reggie’s so incredible to me.

I’m Serious, T.I. This was the height of Lil Jon’s powers, 2001. This was the best of that era of his beats, which were designed to completely fill the club with sounds. Filled more of all registers than the stuff he does now.

Nappy Headz, Fugees. The only reason they were even allowed to make the second record that made them stars…and enemies.

So Fresh, So Clean, OutKast. This was one of those cuts that reminds you why Snoop is dope. Just because he’s Snoop. He’s nowhere near the lyricist either Big Boi or Andre is, but he hangs with no problems because he’s just the coolest cat on the track. And that’s sayin somethin when you’re on a track with Big Boi.

Crossroads, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony. Because radio beat this song to death, it’s taken me ten years to remember how incredible this song was the first time I heard it. Bonus points for a boss video.

Have a good weekend.  Gonna be outta touch a few days, for I’m going to give a talk early next week at the University of Vermont.

October 10, 2006

Searching for Moral Outrage

While I understand that the transgressions of public figures will always be bigger news than those of private citizens, I think this is a more frightening story than the Mark Foley controversy.