Jason Toney

the bear & the turtle

"Stand Up, Its all right, I feel it!" - Nuyorican Soul

its been a long time, I shouldn't have left you: 3 days without a post? Yeah, I'm still alive...there's just been nothing going on that's got my ire up or that's struck me as especially funny in the past 72 hours. I went home from work early on Tuesday because my back was killing me. I'm supposed to be switching offices this week but they won't give me an exact time so I sit here anxiously staring out into the hallway hoping that Bart will come with the PA's and some boxes and tell me its time to go...yeah, still no. I have some stuff rumbling in my head regarding politics and the goings on amongst black folks and the oscars this week...but I think I'm going to let those marinate for a while. I'm not in the mood to pontificate today. Rather, I give you this little allegory that popped in my head this morning:

The Bear and The Turtle

On a blustery morning, the turtle decided that it was time for an adventure. She wanted to know what was in the forest that began at the edge of her pond. She had never left the pond before and didn't know much about survival but that big forest was there and it just begged to be conquered. So she collected her things, put them in her shell and left cool water. Slowly but surely she made her way up through the mud and to the dirt trail that parted the trees.

When she got to the trail, she found herself face to face with a bear sitting and playing with a stick. Not knowing much about the world, the turtle had no idea that she should be afraid of such a vicious creature and went up and introduced herself. Now, truth be told, this wasn't a very vicious bear at all. In fact, he wasn't much bigger than a cub and wasn't into very bear-like things. He didn't hunt, he didn't snore loudly when he hibernated, he didn't even like scaring other animals. That's probably why he sat alone at the edge of the forest. Its pretty hard to have bear friends when you don't want to do bear things.

The bear examined this little turtle who had taken the time to meet him and admired her hard shell. They talked for awhile and realized they had much in common despite being completely different animals. The turtle explained about her adventure and the bear listened with great interest. He wasn't much for adventures but he liked talking with the turtle and could see that she was going to need help. She couldn't just go around talking to every bear she saw, he figured, it was lucky that she had just happened to run into him. Luck or fate, it didn't much matter to him.

The bear asked if he might join the turtle on her journey. The turtle was shocked to find herself so excited by the offer. She hadn't realized until the bear had said those words how much she wanted, maybe even needed, a companion on this trip. She quickly accepted him as her travel partner. The bear slowly got up and dusted himself off. He saw that the turtle's shell was dusty as well and wiped her clean. They smiled at each other for a moment and then walked side by side into the forest.

The trek was slow since turtles don't move very fast but the bear didn't mind. He didn't have any place to get to in a hurry anyway and the conversations they were having were wonderful. They found they liked the same butterflies. They both couldn't stand ladybugs. She was allergic to ants, he was addicted to honey. They walked and talked and marveled at the same things in the forest. They were the best of friends and while neither would say, they certainly loved each other. They were like a match made in heaven.

The forest was much larger than they expected. Often they came to points where they would have to choose a direction. Left or right? Over or under? The bear never wanted to make those decisions. This was the turtle's adventure after all. She should be the one deciding where they went. So she did. They went left when she felt the need. They went under when she was too tired to go over. The turtle liked guiding their journey. Except for when she didn't. The bear didn't mind always following her lead. Except for when he did.

The bear had been right about the turtle needing his help. She was small and slow and often found herself in trouble. He was always there to pull her out of the sink holes and to chase away the bees and to carry her away from the scary eyes that peered at them at night. He grabbed the apples and berries that were too high for her to get. He found the cool watering holes for her to drink and relax. The turtle was very grateful for all his help. Even though sometimes he helped when she didn't need it. The bear was happy to do for the turtle. Even though sometimes he really wanted her to maybe do things for him.

As time passed, the turtle and the bear continued to walk together but they didn't talk as much. The bear looked to his left and watched the butterflies flutter and dance but he didn't tell the turtle about the amazing sight. The turtle looked to her right and saw a pocket of honey pouring from a fallen bee's nest but didn't tell the bear it was there. Once, the turtle fell into a sinkhole and the bear didn't notice. He kept walking along. Eventually he realized the turtle wasn't beside him and rushed back quickly to save her. It was a close call. The bear was happy that he was there to save the turtle again. The turtle was thankful the bear still cared. But they both knew things were different.

The turtle and the bear came upon a sign in the forest. "MIDDLE OF THE ROAD" it read. The trail parted sharply here.

"I want to go left," the bear said.

"I think I'm going right," the turtle replied.

They looked at each other for a moment and considered what this meant.

"You can't make it on your own," the bear said.

"I can," the turtle replied. "You won't finish the journey."

"I will," the bear replied.

They looked away from each other for a moment and considered what this meant.

"We won't see each other again," the turtle said.

"We might yet," the bear replied. "Separate trails often cross again further down the road."

"They do?" she asked.

"They might," he answered.

They looked at each other again for awhile and then turned and walked away from each other.

Both hoping that their paths crossed again sooner rather than later.

the pimpification of our children

"She's truly glamorous and it shows, she don't like your new clothes or your whack ass player pose..." - Guru

when the weekend comes and the weekend comes: quite simply, my friends rule. To addie, anna, beth, carrie, chiyu, courtney, felicia, jenny, moraya, penna, shannon, tracy and tiffany (and the mysterious benefactor) thank you for a lovely evening. I love my quincy jones - an autobiography, my mix CD, my gundam toy (who now sits at my desk after 2 hours of building him yesterday), my superman dvd box set (digitally remastered to visual perfection), willow on dvd, and impending gifts to come. I so didn't expect gifts...thanks much. E.T. was outstanding. The Grove is like a miniature disneyland/las vegas something...it works, sort of. The theatre was really nice though...good seats, people in suits taking care of us. The actor who played a boy named Sue in Swingers was there.

Anna had this to say about my friends: "They are stylish and funny." So True.

Sunday was breakfast and records (I bought a UK Import of The Blackbyrds - Flying Start just so I could have a picture of my dad jumping in the air in an African style shirt) and gundam and superman and HBO east coast and champagne and soul food at my parents house because black people rule the academy. Can we just talk about how Halle Barry is the most beautiful woman on the planet for a moment. And how scary her crying is? How the veins popped out of her shoulders like she needed heroin in the worst way? How I really wanted to know if Eric Benet was wearing shoes with his tux (I was screaming "Pan Down Pan Down!" at the cameraman)? The oscars are really good when you only watch the last 90 minutes. Let's break it down for real though about what was significant about last night:

Denzel Washington makes $20 million a picture. Halle gets paid an extra million to show her breasts in a movie. They didn't need approval from the academy. We as black people didn't need to be thrown a bone. In the 50 years since Sidney Poitier had to fight and scratch his way into well paying roles, we have moved to a time when the finest actors in the craft, no matter what their skin color get paid and paid well for being excellent at what they do and for doing what they are supposed to do - make other people money. The bootstrapping that Poitier, Cosby, Diahann Carroll, etc. etc. did allows for us today to not have to worry about whether or not we're getting shafted in hollywood. Racism has fallen away for profits. Spike Lee can make any movie he wants because he turns a profit, Denzel can get the same deals as Tom Cruise and Tom Hanks. Wesley and Will can rule the action film. And race is relevant in entertainment but not necessarily meaningful in any kind of jarring statement on society.

And somewhere, John Singleton is writing a story about a young black person that can't make it out the ghetto. Again. Except this time its a female lead. Its called Shaft's Hoodrat: Baby Girl 'N the Hood.

damn.

the pimpification of our children: You know 10 years or so ago, I was really rocking that Another Bad Creation CD. I loved that "Iesha Iesha..so nice to meet ya." but something always bugged me about that video. These little 8-12 year olds were running around dressed like little versions of Michael Bivins. No shirts on under their overalls. Rocking pagers and stuff in the video. Why does a 10 year old need a beeper and to show off his non-chest hair? Yeah, I know the Britney response to that - "that's just how we dress where I'm from." Bullshit. I've been all over this fair land. Most little kids are rocking osh kosh b'gosh and shit from mervyn's and target and bugle boy. There are only a few select children that look like this:

We don't need baby pimps! Let a kid be a kid. I don't need a 5 year old coming out in sean john. Its like the kids wearing Nike's at 3 years old. Why? Put the child in some keds. Let him wear his underoos with pride. These 2 kids in this picture are on their way to their baptism. Damn. I'm not a religious man but I'm sure the lord doesn't really need to see a kid that can't spell his name rocking a bowler hat and matching tie.

Have you seen 106 & Park lately? Lil Bow Wow? B2K? Talented kids for sure. And let's be clear that I'm not chastising these little rugrats, they don't know any better. When somebody is writing lyrics for you that have you saying "I rock an iced out Mickey Mouse around my neck" you don't have a chance at having any sense. At 12, the only ice you should care about are the cubes in your soft drink while you get twice baked potato boats in the lunch line.

But Lil Bow Wow is up there in his video at 14/15 with grown ass women in varying stages of undress chasing after him like he is a man. So all the little boys are at home going damn, I need some ice and a perm and an all white outfit in order to get a girlfriend. The girls are going...wow to get a true player you need to show that thong and shake that ass and wear high heels and be a video ho.

That's not what I want my sister to look at as her blueprint for life.

And maybe I have a vendetta against these young men as one of my sister's friends parents thought it would be a good birthday present to let these 4 hoodlums take out my sis and her friend to the movies unchaperoned but...

B2K. I hate it. Why must we be 15 with washboard abs singing sexy love songs? I know I'm showing my age and I just don't understand kids these days and what not but New Edition? They wore sweats and sang to Mr. Telephone Man or their Candy Girl.

New Kids? They wanted you to 'please don't go girl' and 'do the new kids' dance. Troop walked girls home from school while they harmonized.

B2K? XXX! I don't even know what they are singing about because I'm too worried that the police are going to come in my house and arrest me for being a pedophile when that video is on. I felt the same way about Britney Spears when she was first out. Let's not do belly shirts and show the big chest and hot nipple action when we should be learning how to draw a perfect circle with a protractor and reading Lord of the Flies.

And let's not have pimp children. Really. Tuffskins, corduroy, and a cute t-shirt with a cartoon character on it is enough to get kids ahead in the game.

Is that too much to ask?

a conversation

"I gotta kick somethin' that means somethin'" - The Pharcyde

Homework for my next post: Consider what Lil Bow Wow, Lil Wayne, Lil Romeo, young Britney Spears and B2K have in common. Consider how they are different from New Edition, New Kids on the Block, Aaron Carter, Sammie (yes, I pulled out Sammie) and the young Brandy. Prepare to discuss.

A Roller Skating Jam called Saturday: Tonight its LaLa's and E.T. at the Grove. New Food, New Theatre, Old Movie, Old Friends. Can't Complain. There's a good 15 of us or so going out tonight so I''ll give a full report tomorrow of all the looniness that ensues but today I just want to present a little one act play entitled:

Conversations in the Toney Home on a Friday Night

Me (upon entering the house): What are you guys watching?

Mom (pointing to America's Funniest Home Videos): White people doing crazy shit.

House Guest #1: Anybody watching the Bernie Mac show?

Me: When I get a chance to, its pretty good.

Mom: I love his house.

House Guest #1: I haven't seen it yet. Did they make the boy gay like he wanted to?

Mom: I love the lighting on that show. Its the best lit show on television.

Me: These days they just call the boy 'soft.'

House Guest #1: Damn, 10 years old and he's typecast already. Gay Black Boy.

Me: He's funny...he'll overcome it or just become Urkel and make all his money now.

Mom: Steve Harvey's making all the money now. They pay him a million dollars for that radio show.

Outcast House Guest #2: I've got a question...is he tall?

(everyone ignores and continues conversation)

House Guest #1: Lionel Richie has a dance hit in the UK

Mom: He looks bad.

House Guest #1: Oooh, Child. I did a concert with him in London, he's tore up. Too skinny, too much work done, black tar in his hair. At least have a little sprinkle of gray. We know you're old, you ain't foolin' nobody.

Mom: Leather pants?

House Guest #1: Of course.

Me: I'm not sure a straight man should ever wear leather pants.

House Guest #1: Mick Jagger can do it.

Me: Okay, Rock Stars and Gay Men can wear leather pants.

Mom: Dorien looks good in leather pants.

Me: What'd I just say?

Mom: That Rock Stars can wear the pants.

Me: And...

Mom: Don't be trying to out my friends at the dinner table.

House Guest #1: I think Bernie Mac could wear Leather Pants

Me: Yeah...I feel like he'd wear the right shirt.

Mom: (Laughs Uncontrollably)

Me: What? Like a nice silk shirt and good shoes. Bernie Mac has got it like that.

(later in the night)

House Guest #1: Oooh, Rick Fox. I'm so glad he cut that hair. I can look at him again.

Mom: He's pretty.

House Guest #1: Too Pretty.

Me: He's been playing well since he cut the hair.

House Guest #1: He was too pretty with that hair. He needed to cut it off so he could just be a little more normal.

Mom: Vanessa didn't want him to cut it off.

House Guest #1: Of course not. She wanted all that extra pretty around so she could get some.

Me: She was Miss America.

House Guest #1: Have you seen her up close without makeup? Whooo...Little Shop of Horrors.

Mom: She tried out for The Josephine Baker Story and your father was a consultant on the auditions. She was so atrocious without makeup on that he stopped the audition to come call me on the phone and tell me about it.

Me and House Guest #1: Damn.

(still later...)

(the discussion has moved to a pop diva whom both house guest #1 and my mother know quite well)

House Guest #1: He made her buy that house in Beverly Hills. She didn't want it. So what'd she do? Bought the smallest one.

Me: Didn't she buy that castle too?

House Guest #1: Yeah for her brother and he turned it into a fag castle.

Mom: How'd he do that?

House Guest #1: You know...Elevator in the house and shit.

Me: Ohhhh...you mean rubber floors and orange lights?

House Guest #1: Exactly.

Me: And when you press the doorbell it does that techno song "doo doo doo doo do do do...do do do....do do do"

House Guest #1: Yes (high five)

Mom: That's a fag castle? OK. Putting that one in the spirit journal right next to Dennis Rodman in a wedding dress.

House Guest #1: You know he's the only man that has ever really had her sprung...had her calling him on the phone and shit.

Me: Damn, he's so ugly. But women love rich and crazy.

Mom (after a few moments): I'm just saying...he's gotta be twenty inches long and twenty inches wide for all that drama. Her and Carmen Electra...what's Up Daddy Long Daddy Strong?!

Me: Yeah...on that note, its time for me to go. I can't be talking penis size with a parent.

a dream journal entry

"does it seem colder in your summertime and hotter in your fall?'" - Erykah Badu

scribblings in my dream journal: So, I've been thinking heavily about a friendship that has pretty much died and wondering if I should make some effort to mend the fence. Be the bigger man and all that shit. But, just like last month when I was having these feelings about someone else, I had a dream last night that let me know I was okay. In the dream, she called me and I was all ready to say 'I'm so glad you called' then she started talking about the same old bullshit that just gets me tired. No Happy Birthdays. No 'How are You's?' No interest in what's going on with me at all. So I hung up the phone, locked it in a safe with her name on it and stored it in a closet. Three new phones appeared with people I love to talk to and I was content...then Bailey appeared on my bed wearing my glasses reading the newspaper. Damn. Dreams creep me out.

reflections on 27: I always have this sense that I'm behind. My mom had me at 17, my sister at 29. I'm 27 and have none. Not that I know whether or not I want kids. I think I'd make a good father but I don't have this great need to create a family. My biological clock isn't ticking. I really rather like my privacy and independence and lack of tangible responsibilities. But I know I will have kids. That's just something that I've always known, never even considered the possibility that it wouldn't be. So, I always figured I'd be married or in a dedicated relationship by now with little rugrats in the picture and doing something I could tolerate even if I didn't necessarily love it. I didn't want to be an old parent. I have friends with parents in their 60's. I have grandparents in their 60's. The two don't jibe with me. And so it kind of bugs me that I'm nearing 30 and the kids that I know I will have, I don't have yet. I'm getting OK with that simply because I have to. I kind of like the concept of growing up with my kids and as each year passes that will be less and less possible. I have a lot of growing to do but a lot less than I had last year. Know what I'm saying?

I spent 6 years with someone. 18-24. My formative years becoming an adult. If you want to know how it ended go here. Even when the passion was gone, we were moving towards marriage. I think she clinged to the idea that if we had the wedding things would be different. I think I clinged to the idea that at some point things would change. And I liked the idea that there was somebody that loved me, that understood me. Most of the time I feel really misunderstood. Maybe I don't understand myself. Nah, that's bullshit. I totally know me. I like myself too much not to know me. I just don't know if there's some ego thing going on that doesn't let other people in that much. I'll make you laugh but I won't let you see me hurt. I'll listen to all your stuff but I rarely offer any of mine. Maybe that's why its so hard for me to find a new love. I'm about you sharing with me but not so much about me sharing with you. I need to work on that.

Its occurred to me since this whole blog thing started that I have no idea what my life's work will be. I'm just so anti-work in general. I had this big discussion this weekend about the concept of leisure and how its such a new thing...only about a 100 years old. I'm the master of it. Everything I enjoy in life is about leisure. I want to sit and read, sit and watch, sit and talk, sit and laugh, sit and eat, sit and sit. Hard work, hard labor is totally lost on me. Why do you want to do that when we could have an arnold palmer and discuss this record or this book or this basketball team that is working so much harder than I have ever worked on anything in my life ever. I'm so passionate about the abstract, let's talk theory, concepts, what ifs. I'm so not passionate about action...let's go build a house, take a walk, hike a mountain, run a marathon. Yeah, no. Let's talk about why someone would run a marathon or hike a mountain...over a coffee at the coffee shop.

I need to find something that I would do even if I wasn't getting paid for it. Maybe its writing. I do this with no aspirations of ever getting paid for it. Maybe its DJing. I'm late in the game but whatever, I love my records, I love my music. Maybe I could love rocking the party, turning this mother out. Maybe not.

Aren't you supposed to know these things at 27? I really thought you were. How does someone too confident in his own mental abilities, too willing to let time pass him by, too smart for his own good but not smart enough to do anything about it, too whatever this is, figure out how to be who he wants to be?

I'm not a something, not yet a something else. Damn.

Britney was right.

birthday notes

"Thank U for lettin' me be myself...again" - Sly and the Family Stone

Happy Birthday to ya...Happy Birthday!: At some point I plan to pontificate on something of relevance this week (I think I'm ready to discuss iced out pimped out children now) but today's my birthday and I just want to give thanks to some folks and relay a few details of the day.

Thank You!

• to Pen, Jen and Tracy for leaving me early morning birthday messages.
• to Stacie, Doreen, Tracy and Courtney for sending me e-cards.
• to Carrie for giving me a day early birthday voicemail.
• to my sister for calling me during PE
• to my mom for very nice birthday words over IM.
• to my grandma for a very beautiful birthday card and a very nice birthday phone call.
• To queen b, erossica, addie and Erica for treating me to California Pizza Kitchen for lunch.
• To CPK for the very good complimentary caramel fudge cheesecake.
• To Penna for great conversations all day.
• To Jen, Tracy and P'lette for a fine birthday dinner and conversation and laughter.
• To Chow Yung Hung for sharing the same birthday as me and coming out of hiatus to do 2 shows this evening.
• To Colin & Jay for late evening birthday wishes.
• To Tracy for the very nice birthday gift.
• To Jenny for the very nice birthday gift on its way.
• Tomonique for happy birthdaying me on her site and all the folks who visited because of it.
• To my biological wherever he may be - "my father knew exactly what he was doing when he made me, tried to get his nut and he got a nut and what."

Random Birthday Notes: I do feel older, I no longer feel stagnant. The world is moving and all of a sudden I feel like I'm moving along with it. That's a good thing. I feel like life, love and work I would love is coming down the pike and I am ready for it. Whenever, wherever, whatever it may be. 2 bad things today...my grandfather has lost nearly all the use of his heart. Its been over 10 years since he went heart attack crazy (3 in 1 year) and we are all amazed he's still with us. He won't be much longer. Let's not live hard, OK people? The cigarettes, the liquor, the fast women, the gambling...let's practice moderation. That old coot drank those big silver bullet cans of beer all day every day and smoked lucky strikes while sleeping with other women and gambling on the dog races. Damn. I'm sure he was happy at the time but this heart stuff is kicking his ass right now. #2 - I hate uppity IT guys. And that's all I'm going to say.

I'm 27. 3 years to 30. I thought I'd be a lot of things by now that I'm not. Hmmm...maybe we'll discuss that this week too. Anyway, I may not be exactly what I thought I would be but I'm happy. I enjoy life. I enjoy the people in my life. I laugh a lot and after 3 years, my dog might very well like me.

Cheers.

sc birthday weekend

There's no mistakin' I'm clearly takin' by the mere thought of you...you're just like Candy. - Cameo

I should be working right now. I arrived in Los Angeles at about 10:44 AM, returned the rental car and got in the office at about 11:02am. 224 e-mail messages later (with only about 20 of them being particularly relavant), 1 impromptu meeting, several quick e-mail responses, a few longer e-mail responses, 2 shows watched, 1 Intern worked to oblivion and 1 lunch with the Queen B just completed and now I'm here with you. I have much to do but I'd rather write this than write for MTV which monique referred to as the devil. Rather than recap the entire weekend, I'll just discuss some of the finer points:

• Friday Drive Time - 5 hours exactly. 2 Convos with Penna. 1 Convo with Tracy. 1 Voicemail from Colin. 1 Stop for gas. Road Trip Soundtrack: Another Late Night 4 by Zero 7, The Truth Hurts by Edo G., Rooty by Basement Jaxx (I was falling asleep on the road, this helped), Naked Music presents Midnight Snack, Classic Nuts Vol. 1 by The Beatnuts.
• Things overheard at Pink Godzilla Sushi - "Step, Step, Step. I'm not hearing you right now. Step." "I've got 5 on It." "It cleans out the pipes." A random case of the giggles by Colin & I.
• How Evil are we? - As Colin makes French Toast (Scrumdiddlyumptious) we call Anna and inform her that we're going to have Ham on Sunday. With Cheesy Potatoes. After Champagne Brunch at the Peachwood Inn. Anna had water and cheez-its for lunch that day. Damn.
• Is it fucked up that I find this funny? - The Honeybaked Ham store in Oakland sits maybe 30 feet from the Jewish Cemetery. I would call it Ironic but it pretty much only fits the Alanis Morrissette definition of that word but I found it damn humorous.
• I broke my promise to myself - I bought records at Amoeba Music Berkeley...less than one week after spending too much money at Amoeba Music Hollywood. But I only spend 13 dollars this time and it was for a Maceo Parker album - Us (featuring his horn over James Brown Instrumentals), Ashford & Simpson - Solid (for some reason I'm in love with 80's R&B right now), and Morris Day and the Time - Fishnet (for obvious reasons).
• Cheesecake good, wine not in wine glass bad - Pasta Pompodoro in Berkeley. Food was good. Service was odd. One waiter was too tall and awkwardly lanky like he had just had a growth spurt that day. The hostess looked like our high school friend Becky Bratley (well, Colin & Jay's friend. They tell me she went to high school with us but I can never picture her there.) They make excellent cheesecake but let's not serve wine in anything else but a wine glass OK? The Pinot Noir didn't sit right with me in the weird shot type glass.
• Who knew? - Am I the only person in the world that didn't know Ian McKellen was gay AND out? He was damn funny on SNL (able to actually save a Horatio Sanz skit from total oblivion) but the Queer as Folkness was totally lost on me until his monologue.
• 27 years, still can't remember the one thing that's important on March 17th - Once again...no green. Crazy waitress at Peachwood Inn pinched me. Jay offended her by talking about bad restaurant service as she served us mimosas. Although, she might not have been able to tell who said it. With her super glasses you could never tell who she was looking at. And wow, middle class white people. I sooo never want to be you. No alligator on the shirt, no wife wearing strange printed flowery dresses that scream J.C. Penney's Catalog. No out of control children. No surprise parties with pictures of people as table decorations. No close talking old relatives who wear only one color just in varying shades. No yellow or peach dress shirts. No marveling at how much food is available. You are at a All you can eat Champagne Brunch. How can you be amazed at the food and selection?
• Jay wins too much - I don't think I have ever played a board game that Jay hasn't won. Come on. Cut us a break one day. Can't even win at Star Wars Monopoly? I was Han Solo damnit.
• Too much Time with the 'puter - I played a lot of starcraft. A lot. I wrote a letter to gramma. And I started a list of all the movies I've ever seen in my life (rule is that I have to remember the key plot point for it to count) - I'm at 350 right now with no end in sight. At first I thought I had seen maybe 2500 flicks. I think its closer to 1000 - 1500 but that's still like whoa. How much time of my life is that? And we haven't even counted television. And then to think about all the bad movies I've seen several times (planet of the apes twice, titanic 3 times...). Oy Vey.
• I've got a lil dough-dough - True Lies was much funnier with the F/X dubbed treatment. Raiders of the Lost Ark is the best action film of all time. Bar None. Ham, Cheesy Potatoes, Green Beans, Rolls, Mango Juice....Colin rules the kitchen. Colin and Jay are the finest hosts ever as well. They take such good care of me. I love them. Always and Forever. (ok...that might be the cheesiest thing I've said in 2002. But its true.)
• Monday Drive Time - 4 hours, 39 minutes. 1 moving violation (although the CHP officer was very pleasant), 1 stop for gas and drink, snowcapped mountains is a very nice way to enter Los Angeles in the morning. Road Trip Soundtrack - Right on Time by Hepcat, Ocean's 11 Original Soundtrack, Jackie Brown Original Soundtrack, AOI: Bionix by De La Soul, The Lost Change Soundtrack by Will.I.Am, Jay-Z Unplugged.

I don't think I found my mind like I was hoping this trip but I am much more relaxed, much more okay with being 27 and not knowing what I want to do with this life and just much more OK in general. Santa Cruz always gets me right. Its therapy of the highest order.

And now I'm back home. Here with You.

i need a girl, pt. 1

"Mama used to say, 'Boy, don't run away from your problems...'" - Hepcat

Coincidincia? No Creo Que No!

If Wesley Snipes had starred in Bowfinger instead of Eddie Murphy, Chuck Sawyer is what he would've looked like. He's like a cross between Afroman and Rodney King. If we could get all three of them together in one place I'm sure we could make a lot of pain and heartache disappear. I'll make sure we don't get caught. I've watched enough Autopsy, Investigative Reports, City Confidential, Law & Order and America Undercover to know how to create the perfect crime. Plus...I'm a Super Genius. Just like Wile E. Coyote. Ooops. Bad Example.

Just because I can't imagine any of you fine, intelligent people doing something so silly as to buy a blackman game I'm going to give you the link to the site so you can see why I still hate. Its right here. Big Ups to Pen for the montage up top there.

I was so inundated today with the sights and sounds 09.11.01, I thought that I should post about it today. Say something profound and meaningful. Speak to the heart of humanity and call to action those feelings and emotions that would bring about activism and revolution. But I gots nothing. Liberty rules, yo. Cherish your right to be who you are. As I'm fond of saying, You be You, I'll worry about me. And I don't know what that has to do with terrorism but I know it has something to do about life.

Anyway, let's talk about something that's really important. My ideal mate...or at least who I think it would be. I'll probably fall in love with an 80 year old blonde who hates black people but is color blind so she can't figure me out. Because my life is like that sometimes.

Okay...let's break Jason's lady down:

1. Dark Haired Vixen. I'm sorry you light haired ladies, I've just never been about it. I like dark and curly or dark and short or something cute in between. Cute haircuts do it. And if you do cute things with it. On a Saturday with jeans, a smart tee shirt and pig tails or pulled back when you usually wear it down or braided. Wow. I'm staring when you're not looking.
2. Meat on the Bones. I'm not a body snob, I like all sizes and shapes. But have some shape. Rail thin is not for me.
3. Art Chick. Now this doesn't mean you have to be a professional artist or some shit but I like people who love creativity, culture and art. Music, Books, Drawing, Photography, painting, sculpture. Something. Care about it. Be passionate about it. School me on ska. Take me to a museum. Tell me I don't know shit about takin' no pictures. Start a book club with me or some shit. I'll love you forever, for real.
4. Sarcasm, Wit, Laughter. I have this theory. I think that the only truly happy people are those who know not to take much in this world too seriously. We can be soulmates if I know that you won't hold it against me if I laugh at something that's just foul and if every once in a while you're the one that told me that fucked up shit. And have a good laugh. I can't be the only one around with the distinctive giggle.
5. Be About Something. I'm Mr. unmotivated, Mr. easily disinterested. The Yin to my Yang, ideally, would have none of that. I need that work 4 jobs girl who volunteers AND knits hot beanie caps for AIDS patients AND pound puppies. Just embarrass my ass with your awesome activity so that a brotha will be motivated to write that great American novel (or at least the great American comedy script) and make a few dollars so I can take care of your perfect self.
6. Let me be a man about it. Can I please pay for dinner and the movie without a fight? I'm all about equality and 'Sisters are doing it for themselves' and all that but I'm a man and I'm a man that wants to take care of things, that wants to feel like he can take care of you even if he doesn't have to. Don't look at the check, don't ask how much that gift cost, don't worry about how I got those 6th row tickets to the band you so want to see. Let me do my thing. It makes me happy and doesn't make you any less of a woman because I took care of it. I didn't have to, I wanted to. If we move in together, you can pay the phone bill OK? But let me take care of this date shit. Let me be that guy.

Is that too demanding? 6 things? Not that hard right? All my friends are pretty much that girl give or take 1 or 2 things on the list. I just need to get one of them to fall under my spell...yeah, I've got my eye out. I'm working on it right now.

I'm thinking about you.

And you're here, thinking about me.

Damn. We're already in love.

Or not.

No matter how hard I try...still not a playa. Still Crushin'. A Lot.

me, hbo and the amoeba

"I wish music would adopt me." - Erick Sermon

Saturday Night with Home Box Office: I could be out tripping the light fantastic right now (and I really need to research the root of that phrase) but HBO has The Laramie Project on and there's Boxing After Dark and maybe I'll watch some Primetime Glick because no matter what Jenny says, Martin Short is a funny man. Ed Grimley and Jiminy Glick are brilliant characters. Why am I attracted to both Janeane Garofalo and Christina Ricci? They both look like they come from the same family of troll (attractive trolls mind you but definitely a tad fairy tale scary; look at the eyes and the bone structure. I wouldn't be shocked at all if they said "not by the hair of my chinny chin chin" or lived under a bridge.) and yet I want to be their personal billy goat gruff. And I'm not ashamed, either. Have I mentioned I'm going to marry HBO? Yeah, if HBO was a real person, I'd be its He-Bitch Man-Whore. Oh and about my obsession with trollish women? Yeah, I'm in love with Fairuza Balk too. I think it must be the attitude they give off. But that's for another rant. Maybe we'll define Jason's Type later this week.

Mecca and the Soul Brother: I was scared when it opened. That's probably why I hadn't gone until today. 6 months its been here and I haven't stepped inside? Come on now...that's so not like me. I should have been there opening day. They should've found me at 3am naked in an aisle giggling with joy. But I was scared. Frightened it wouldn't live up to the hype. Terrified that it would be much more than the hype. So I stayed away. Until today. I walked through the doors of Amoeba Music Hollywood, Sunset and Cahuenga blvd, 2 stories of recorded sound and video. I felt like I was Bobby Brown at a crack house with a dance floor. In Heaven.

I think I heard a chorus when I walked through the doors. My own personal greek choir guiding me through the store. I didn't even have to look at the signs, I could smell the beats, rhymes and life. Amoeba was built with me in mind. The soul and funk records lead to the hip hop records which hide the electronica music which dances with the house music while it lounges with the acid jazz and ska. All in one corner. Maybe 50 feet wide by 50 feet long. Every record, cd, poster, box set, bootleg, white label, promo I could ever want to own. I just stood there for a while, overwhelmed. I looked to my left and there was just vinyl. Marvin Gaye is staring back at me. James Brown, Erykah Badu, The Isley Brothers. There's a card sticking out for the Blackbyrds and I check to see if my dad's music is there...Sold Out! No old school Kevin Toney on vinyl for me. I look to my right and its all used Hip Hop CD's. And not shit music. Not everything I don't want but everything I do. I start grabbing. I've been in the store less than 10 minutes and I have to go find a basket because I can't carry this much stuff. I have to start making decisions about music though. I've budgeted 100 bucks on this trip and I can't shoot my load prematurely.

Before today, I owned one Vinyl LP. Edo G. - On Dogz. Won it from URB magazine 18 months or so ago. I've never listened to it. Know why? I don't own a record player. I have my eye on some Technics decks, the cheap ones, my starter set but I haven't purchased them yet. Right now...I own 15 platters. A lot are promos (how can you not buy a .50 cent record?) and then Queen B hit me with some amazing music when I stopped by her crib. I'm in love with the music on those records and I can't even hear them yet.

I walked in needing to purchase one album. Another Late Night 5 by Zero 7. I left with the following:

• Another Late Night 5 by Zero 7 - if you need to set the mood from 2am - 6am, this is the album
• Soulmates by Nobody - LA music. He's like our own version of DJ Shadow. Medusa drops lyrics...that's enough for me.
• Midnight Shack Vol. One by Naked Music - When have I ever been able to leave a record store without a Naked Music release?
• Classic Nuts Vol. 1 by The Beatnuts - Every hot latin influenced Hip Hop record starts with the beatnuts. Off tha Books, Se Acabo, No Escapin' This? I'm gonna do a salsa version of the running man right now.
• Keep on Movin' by Soul II Soul - I've been rockin' the cassette the past 2 weeks and some mp3s, now I have it on CD.
• Greatest Hits by Earth, Wind & Fire - Its the greatest recorded band of all time. Please Believe It.
• Sister & Brother by Melky Sedeck - I've heard its good and for 3 bucks, I'll try anything.
• So...How's Your Girl? by Handsome Boy Modeling School - Real Hip Hop. Tommy Boy release. Anybody on that label can have my dollars.
• Right on Time by Hepcat - OK, Colin & Jay turned me on to them. I have this and Scientific on tape I believe but I haven't been able to find it on CD. 9 bucks. Amoeba Music. Yeah Doggies.
• Supreme Clientele by Ghostface Killah - Needed to replace the one I scratched to death...5 bucks, can't complain.
• The Return of the Space Cowboy by Jamiroquai - another replacement.
• Bulletproof Wallets by Ghostface Killah - Its always being recommended. I haven't heard a lick but Ghostface is probably tops on my short list of Wu-Tang Members I can stomach.
• On Vinyl: Runaway by Nuyorican Soul featuring India - one of the hardest albums to find on vinyl and I get a single with the full artwork and everything? What? Best find of the day.
• On Vinyl: She's All I Got by Jimmy Cozier
• On Vinyl: Love It by Bilal
• On Vinyl: Anywhere by 112
• On Vinyl: Oops (Oh My) by Tweet
• On Vinyl: Star Wars Original Soundtrack
• On Vinyl: Empire Strikes Back Original Soundtrack
• On Vinyl: Clockwork Orange Original Soundtrack
• On Vinyl: Sound System by Herbie Hancock
• On Vinyl: Hawaiian Album by Ray Conniff
• On Vinyl: Winter into Spring by George Winston
• On Vinyl: Diana Ross and the Supremes Anthology (3 Record Set with the original Flipbook) released 1973

Grand Total: 127.64

Money well spent. But I can't go back there for 2 months. I have to limit myself like that. I could have easily dropped a thousand dollars in there and felt like it was worth it. Amoeba Music...wow.

Oh and I am paying attention to this Laramie movie and its moving and deep and I'm trying to wrap my head around how fucked up some of these people are and how crazed and stupid the news media is but Christina Ricci? Wow, nice rack.

Moving along. In the past week, I've seen every science fiction flick about mars. Ending last night with the Ghosts of Mars while I got ready to go out with Pen and Brigitte. Can there not be a good movie about Mars? Total Recall works in a campy sense but everything else is just horrid. Mission to Mars, Red Planet...ugh. Can't somebody just do a good version of Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles and be done with it? Let's not make Mars movies anymore. Please don't watch Ghosts of Mars. The Worst Dialogue Ever.

If I was still in college, The Laramie Project would have totally been one of my programs. I'd be in the back of the theatre writing down questions using all my diversity training to figure out what could I ask that would get people to express their honest feelings. Damn. I'm so enlightened. I'm so much more diverse than you. You miserable conservative bastards.

Sometimes I'm really a prick when I know I'm right. Smug and bemused and shit.

But I got music. And HBO. And Trollish Women.

Heaven.

me, hbo and the amoeba

"I wish music would adopt me." - Erick Sermon

Saturday Night with Home Box Office: I could be out tripping the light fantastic right now (and I really need to research the root of that phrase) but HBO has The Laramie Project on and there's Boxing After Dark and maybe I'll watch some Primetime Glick because no matter what Jenny says, Martin Short is a funny man. Ed Grimley and Jiminy Glick are brilliant characters. Why am I attracted to both Janeane Garofalo and Christina Ricci? They both look like they come from the same family of troll (attractive trolls mind you but definitely a tad fairy tale scary; look at the eyes and the bone structure. I wouldn't be shocked at all if they said "not by the hair of my chinny chin chin" or lived under a bridge.) and yet I want to be their personal billy goat gruff. And I'm not ashamed, either. Have I mentioned I'm going to marry HBO? Yeah, if HBO was a real person, I'd be its He-Bitch Man-Whore. Oh and about my obsession with trollish women? Yeah, I'm in love with Fairuza Balk too. I think it must be the attitude they give off. But that's for another rant. Maybe we'll define Jason's Type later this week.

Mecca and the Soul Brother: I was scared when it opened. That's probably why I hadn't gone until today. 6 months its been here and I haven't stepped inside? Come on now...that's so not like me. I should have been there opening day. They should've found me at 3am naked in an aisle giggling with joy. But I was scared. Frightened it wouldn't live up to the hype. Terrified that it would be much more than the hype. So I stayed away. Until today. I walked through the doors of Amoeba Music Hollywood, Sunset and Cahuenga blvd, 2 stories of recorded sound and video. I felt like I was Bobby Brown at a crack house with a dance floor. In Heaven.

I think I heard a chorus when I walked through the doors. My own personal greek choir guiding me through the store. I didn't even have to look at the signs, I could smell the beats, rhymes and life. Amoeba was built with me in mind. The soul and funk records lead to the hip hop records which hide the electronica music which dances with the house music while it lounges with the acid jazz and ska. All in one corner. Maybe 50 feet wide by 50 feet long. Every record, cd, poster, box set, bootleg, white label, promo I could ever want to own. I just stood there for a while, overwhelmed. I looked to my left and there was just vinyl. Marvin Gaye is staring back at me. James Brown, Erykah Badu, The Isley Brothers. There's a card sticking out for the Blackbyrds and I check to see if my dad's music is there...Sold Out! No old school Kevin Toney on vinyl for me. I look to my right and its all used Hip Hop CD's. And not shit music. Not everything I don't want but everything I do. I start grabbing. I've been in the store less than 10 minutes and I have to go find a basket because I can't carry this much stuff. I have to start making decisions about music though. I've budgeted 100 bucks on this trip and I can't shoot my load prematurely.

Before today, I owned one Vinyl LP. Edo G. - On Dogz. Won it from URB magazine 18 months or so ago. I've never listened to it. Know why? I don't own a record player. I have my eye on some Technics decks, the cheap ones, my starter set but I haven't purchased them yet. Right now...I own 15 platters. A lot are promos (how can you not buy a .50 cent record?) and then Queen B hit me with some amazing music when I stopped by her crib. I'm in love with the music on those records and I can't even hear them yet.

I walked in needing to purchase one album. Another Late Night 5 by Zero 7. I left with the following:

• Another Late Night 5 by Zero 7 - if you need to set the mood from 2am - 6am, this is the album
• Soulmates by Nobody - LA music. He's like our own version of DJ Shadow. Medusa drops lyrics...that's enough for me.
• Midnight Shack Vol. One by Naked Music - When have I ever been able to leave a record store without a Naked Music release?
• Classic Nuts Vol. 1 by The Beatnuts - Every hot latin influenced Hip Hop record starts with the beatnuts. Off tha Books, Se Acabo, No Escapin' This? I'm gonna do a salsa version of the running man right now.
• Keep on Movin' by Soul II Soul - I've been rockin' the cassette the past 2 weeks and some mp3s, now I have it on CD.
• Greatest Hits by Earth, Wind & Fire - Its the greatest recorded band of all time. Please Believe It.
• Sister & Brother by Melky Sedeck - I've heard its good and for 3 bucks, I'll try anything.
• So...How's Your Girl? by Handsome Boy Modeling School - Real Hip Hop. Tommy Boy release. Anybody on that label can have my dollars.
• Right on Time by Hepcat - OK, Colin & Jay turned me on to them. I have this and Scientific on tape I believe but I haven't been able to find it on CD. 9 bucks. Amoeba Music. Yeah Doggies.
• Supreme Clientele by Ghostface Killah - Needed to replace the one I scratched to death...5 bucks, can't complain.
• The Return of the Space Cowboy by Jamiroquai - another replacement.
• Bulletproof Wallets by Ghostface Killah - Its always being recommended. I haven't heard a lick but Ghostface is probably tops on my short list of Wu-Tang Members I can stomach.
• On Vinyl: Runaway by Nuyorican Soul featuring India - one of the hardest albums to find on vinyl and I get a single with the full artwork and everything? What? Best find of the day.
• On Vinyl: She's All I Got by Jimmy Cozier
• On Vinyl: Love It by Bilal
• On Vinyl: Anywhere by 112
• On Vinyl: Oops (Oh My) by Tweet
• On Vinyl: Star Wars Original Soundtrack
• On Vinyl: Empire Strikes Back Original Soundtrack
• On Vinyl: Clockwork Orange Original Soundtrack
• On Vinyl: Sound System by Herbie Hancock
• On Vinyl: Hawaiian Album by Ray Conniff
• On Vinyl: Winter into Spring by George Winston
• On Vinyl: Diana Ross and the Supremes Anthology (3 Record Set with the original Flipbook) released 1973

Grand Total: 127.64

Money well spent. But I can't go back there for 2 months. I have to limit myself like that. I could have easily dropped a thousand dollars in there and felt like it was worth it. Amoeba Music...wow.

Oh and I am paying attention to this Laramie movie and its moving and deep and I'm trying to wrap my head around how fucked up some of these people are and how crazed and stupid the news media is but Christina Ricci? Wow, nice rack.

Moving along. In the past week, I've seen every science fiction flick about mars. Ending last night with the Ghosts of Mars while I got ready to go out with Pen and Brigitte. Can there not be a good movie about Mars? Total Recall works in a campy sense but everything else is just horrid. Mission to Mars, Red Planet...ugh. Can't somebody just do a good version of Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles and be done with it? Let's not make Mars movies anymore. Please don't watch Ghosts of Mars. The Worst Dialogue Ever.

If I was still in college, The Laramie Project would have totally been one of my programs. I'd be in the back of the theatre writing down questions using all my diversity training to figure out what could I ask that would get people to express their honest feelings. Damn. I'm so enlightened. I'm so much more diverse than you. You miserable conservative bastards.

Sometimes I'm really a prick when I know I'm right. Smug and bemused and shit.

But I got music. And HBO. And Trollish Women.

Heaven.

chuck sawyer?

People are you ready? Are you really ready? Are you really ready to try? We wanna try harder. - De La Soul

Disclaimer: I didn't actually see this fool on TV but monique posted this link and I just had to step back for a minute. I would post a link to his game but I can't bring myself to do it. I can't support this nonsense. I can just imagine what the producers at Fox News did this morning when this fool walked through the door. Chuck Sawyer is like a character straight out of bamboozled. I would think he was satirizing the black community except that I'm too sure that he thinks he's keepin' it real with this bullshit. And to think, its very likely that he will be the only black man on a national news program today. And then we wonder why black folks aren't taken seriously. Chuck Sawyer is the reason. Let's break him down right now.

The Man: Before we even get into his nonsense game, let's talk about the gap in his teeth, the fact that he is higher than a motherfucking kite and that he is rocking the mini-fro in the worst way. I bet he stutters. Motherfucker. Donald Rumsfield is on the channel wowing the press corps with middle America style blue collar jokes and this fool looks like its his first day on parole and he's still rocking the style he went into jail with 25 years ago. Chuck Sawyer...your new name is Huckleberry. Don't let me see you in Redondo Beach. I will punch you in the chest just on principle.

The Game: Life as a Blackman...what? I don't even get two words. Blackman is a last name, ya bastard, not a way to identify brothas like me. I'm going to go Cameo on your ass. Word up! And no matter what path you take, the government pays you? Let's just create that welfare state. You want to bring this into schools? I want to bring you into schools so I can show and tell what a buffoon is. Go back and look at his tongue sticking out the gap of his teeth. Do you hate him as much as I do yet?

Where are my black leaders? If Chuck Sawyer, Maxine Waters, Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are the representatives of black folks in Political and News forums then nobody will ever figure out what the true issues are facing the black community. These carnival hucksters don't do shit about shit. They scream racism without looking deeper, they are so concerned about being something for every black person that they stand for nothing. I know that black people love an orator that sounds like a preacher but we have to find new leadership. Chuck Sawyer cannot be the only black man on TV He shouldn't even get near a TV There should be black political figures with enough intelligence, candor, and prominence that the Chuck Sawyer's of the world don't take up my time. We celebrate all these thugs, hustlers and shiftless crooks because 'they're doing something' without ever considering that there are tons of us out here really laying it down that never hustled, never was a thug, never went to jail. And we don't all think alike. Where are the black leaders that are having intelligent debate about issues? Where are the black leaders known more for their societal and political convictions than their criminal ones?

And Chuck Sawyer is on the morning news. Selling a game about the Blackman. And selling us out in the process.

Please Beat his Ass. I'll bail you out.