November 9, 2006

They Really Are Born Like That!

Business…here’s a quick primer on the college hoops season.

So my buddy JR got married last weekend. One time for black love.

One of the coolest things about any affair involving his fam is hanging out with his five year-old niece (going on six, actually).

Isn’t she adorable?

Anyway, I asked her after the ceremony if it would be okay if I sat next to her at the reception. Kid makes good conversation.

A few minutes passed, and the walked up to me, took my hand, and told me we needed to talk. She led me about five steps away from everyone and then asked a question.

“What made you ask me out?”

Again, she’s 5.

That leads me to believe one thing–the bizarre self-doubt that makes women such interesting creatures to try and date really isn’t learned. It’s friggin’ innate! There’s no way for her to have the life experience to make such a question legitimate. And she said it with nothing but sincerity.

So fellas, if your lady gets a lil’ shaky about, I dunno, everything, just know that she came about it honest. Apparrently, it comes part and parcel with the second X chromosome.

Random–am I the only person that thinks that Steele cat in Maryland may have won had Mike Tyson not been seen with his “Steele ‘06″ t-shirt? Tyson’s got some sorta kin-in-law relationship with Steele, but still. If Mike Tyson was a registered Republican, could you imagine how awkward it would for those guys whose jobs are just to kiss ass if Tyson ever became financially solvent and made a massive donation, one so large it couldn’t go unacknowledged?

November 6, 2006

Maybe You Can’t Go Home Again…

Been gone a while.  Sorry about that.  Well, assuming you missed me.  Which I don’t.  But I’m apologizing.  That doesn’t make any sense.

Was in a good friend’s wedding this weekend, and that was quite an experience.  Beautiful ceremony and great stories that I’ll relay a little later.  Clap your hands one time for black love.

But before going to Savannah for the service, I stopped in Atlanta.  Some of you may recall that, about a year ago, I was ready to move back to the A.  The place just feels really natural to me.  Anyway, I decided not to make that move because I wouldn’t be able to sell my house and all that.

Now, I just ain’t tryin’ to make that move.  Something feels different.

First, the traffic is so much more absurd than when I lived there.  I always thought the talk about Atlanta’s traffic was a wee bit overhyped, but I ain’t talkin’ that jazz no more.  The gridlock I hit when I got to downtown at 2pm on Thursday was friggin’ ridiculous.  So, I decided to get off 75/85 and take the streets to the SWATS.  That meant taking a spin past Atlantic Station, the newly gentrified area of Midtown.  It was really nice, and it was kinda cool to see what they’re doing.  However, that gentrification didn’t feel like Atlanta to me.  It would probably be really cool to me if I didn’t know the city, but I just couldn’t appreciate it.

But maybe that was because it messed up the route I was used to taking home.  Not quite sure, to be honest.

But after spinning past Atlantic Station, I got down Northside Drive to the area close to the AUC.  And man, the poverty seemed more abject than ever.  It just felt dreary, and it never felt like that to me.  That’s not to say that it was a vibrant area before.  I mean, we risked our lives every time we spun down that way to go to the liquor store (the dude down there didn’t ID).  But it wasn’t like this.

Then, I decided to go down Simpson Road to get to 20.  Now, Simpson Road’s always been a hellhole.  It’s one of those streets that has absolutely nothing good going on.  Been like that most of my life.  Basically, it fits a rule–if T.I. shouts it out, chances are you ain’t got no reason to be there.

Dude, I didn’t feel good about stopping at red lights.  In broad daylight.

Again, this was never a wonderful area.  But I don’t remember it being like this.

I dunno, man.  It just got a overwhelmed by just how much richer the rich in the city are than the poor.  I’m not feeling nearly as good about that Black Mecca talk because there seem to be more poor-as-shit black people in the city than ever.  It just didn’t feel like a place I’d want to live.

But if I’m using that as a criterion for determining where to live, I need to move out of this country, ha?