Jason Toney

on how life is...

"What you are listening to now is Jazz in the present tense." - The Soulsonics

I'm trying to commit to some things, man. Exercise,cooking, reading, turning off the television, getting shit done in a timely fashion. It's hard work, yo. I'm all about procrastination and laziness. But I no longer want to be. Let's fill the day with activity. I want to enjoy when I get the opportunity to do nothing not wallow in its comfortable softness. Its a huge mental shift. That's okay though cuz the old mental state was an exercise in retardation.

*I added a new top 5.

*I'll be in Vegas from the 14th thru the 17th. I'll be at the Palms. Come hang out. I'll throw you some chips, the weekend is on the company dime.

*I think I'll be in San Fran the 26th and 27th and in Santa Cruz on the 28th and 29th. I will be getting my dance on naked music style in SF. If you want to sweat and grind with a brotha with our clothes on ("cuz we don't have to take our...clothes off, to have a good  time, no no!" - who sings that?), drop me a line. Maybe you too can be on the guest list for them class "A" SF dance club mega events.

*Osmosis Jones was quite enjoyable. I was pleasantly surprised.

*So I think the plan for my big summer concert this year will be the Smokin' Grooves tour. Every summer I sell my first born child to some music industry cat or concert promotion dude at HOB or nederlander or Clear Channel in order to get sweet tix for a good show. 2 years ago, sat 7th row center for D'Angelo. Last year, 8th row aisle for Erykah Badu. Where will we sit this year? Some place where the contact high will be ridiculous, I'm sure.

*I'm still trying to fix some of the minor annoyances on this site...like my individual post links not working. See, I want to provide a table of contents for  You Never Know but it won't work without linkage. That's just lame webwork. So, if you haven't read the first 4 parts of my on-going pseudo fiction tale, you should go into last week's archive and start with reading "Morning Bruises" and then make your way back here. The next section is called Y2Kand its not finished yet. I've got a beginning and a killer closing for the chapter but the middle is giving me fits. Maybe tomorrow.

beat street breakdown ruh!

"Us girls can boogie too, we can dance, we can shake it..." - Us Girls



Memorial Day Morning Notes:

• 6:20am - Beat Street on Encore. Whoo Doggies. I want to poplock so bad right now. The New York City Breakers were so dope, so fresh, so choice. I'm bringing back "Biter" and airbrushed clothing. You can't stop me. "Cuz there's no stopping us, no stoppin' no one does it better." ...Ooops wrong breakdance movie.


• The replay of the Lakers Game on NBA TV. That was absolutely, without a doubt, the finest playoff game I can remember. It had absolutely everything. Drama, heartache, the incredible comeback, Shaq hitting free throws, Kobe being Kobe, and Robert Horry in one fail swoop becoming the most popular man in Los Angeles. Fo'rilla. I'm not even hating on Sactown. I just love this series.


• Britney is supposed to do 6 episodes of buffy next year (via Oliver)? Damn damn damn. I thought the show might have come back to its classic goodness. Apparently not. I just have no desire to see the busty hayseed vampire. 


• The funniest line of the morning (via Melly): "[tequila] sneaks across the border of your mouth to live illegally in the america of your belly"
  
  

j to the L.O./you never know pt. 4

"I'm tired of hearing you're gonna change, but seeing you play these games" - Angie Stone

Since it has a life of its own now, If you're here to read the next installment of the 'couple story thingie' which now has a title - You Never Know - then you should just go read Tricks of the Trade.

for the mac nerds: I practically did the dance of joy and applauded once I installed the Netscape 7.0 X preview release. Its, by far, the best browser in the OS X environment. Almost every page I loaded, loaded properly and looked like its supposed to look. Java works better (like I can actually see my hitbox controls and play monopoly at playsite), pages load pretty darn fast, nothing has crashed it up yet, I haven't felt like my machine was slowing down, and its cute. Its been a long time since I've used netscape but that mozilla engine rules the free world and parts of Communist China. Get it here.

not enough: I finally put my finger on why I have so much J to the L.O. disdain. She's an illusionist. She has people convinced that she can sing, can act, can do all these things. Here's the reality: She was cool when she was the 'chubby' fly girl, Selena was her one great role, she's a decent rapper but a terrible singer. That's it. Oh, and she has a nice backside. Now, that's it. She has ya'll fooled, hoodwinked, bamboozled and led astray. Have you seen The Cell, Angel Eyes, Anaconda, Money Train? She couldn't even pull off the Iman role when Puffy tried to recreate the Remember the Time video. Damn.

The reason I'm annoyed? Last night my sister dragged me to see Enough. Now, nevermind that the movie was far better when it was called Sleeping with the Enemy and you really believed Julia Roberts was getting her ass kicked and the husband was just mega-perfectionist control freak so you understood the motivations of all characters involved. Nevermind that the script is pretty weak falling on too many characters that are only there to get the writer out of jams rather than to really exist as real people in the world of the film. Nevermind that they jump around in the story so much that it feels both long and rushed at the same time. What you should mind is this...she can't act. Or let me change that, she over-acts.

The difference between film acting and stage acting is simple. You overact on stage because you need the people in the back row to see your performance. You underact on screen, using subtlety instead of overt action to convey emotion a lot of the time because everyone can see you clearly, you have the benefit of a soundtrack, lighting, editing, establishing shots, the magic of movies and television to make it all happen. So you might flutter your eyes, raise an eyebrow, chuckle to yourself to get the point across rather than guffawing or dramatically flailing an arm or fainting.

Ms. Lopez understands nothing about subtlety. And it bugs throughout the entire movie. Enough is very cornball.

You know what else bugs? My sister trying to join the chorus of valley girls sitting in front of us every time they laughed or "whoo child" or screamed during the film. Be your own woman, little sis. Damn.

bug #2? Sitting next to a woman with tourette's during a movie. The arm twitching, leg kicking and the shakes was freaking me out man. And made me miss several moments of a bad movie.

bug #3? Turn your damn cell phone off.

bug #4? Leave your babies at home. You had the kids, don't ruin my evening because you can't find a babysitter.

bug #5? This is why I don't go to the movies deep in the heart of the valley often: 2 girls, no more than 19, both wearing 'stylish' hats, talking to each other on their cell phones while their boobs pop out of their shirts that are far too fancy for the movie theater. Why? Do you think Nelly's going to roll up in Winnetka and make you a St. Lunatic? Quit trippin'.

lauryn unplugged/you never know pt. 3

"Forget the proof, a generation so aloof, all following in the steps of the majority" - Lauryn Hill

insert title here: I didn't rush out to buy it last week. I'd seen bits and pieces of it when it aired on MTV2 and even though I was really feeling the music, she talked to damn much. I hate a pretentious musician, incredibly aware of who he/she is and always trying to define his or herself without giving the audience a chance to consider and create opinions for themselves. But they didn't have verve remixed at Borders tonight and I wasn't in the mood to travel to Amoeba this thursday evening and there was no way I was paying 18.99 for musiq's juslissen and a double disc for 13.99 plus my KCRW discount? Lauryn Hill unplugged 2.0 is just damn, wow, damn good. I still wish sometimes that she would just shut up and play but when she does play....whoo, it gets in you. It infects you, your heart swells, your soul is at attention and the mind is at work. The rhythm rocks your hip joints, her licks with the pick make your neck crick. And you rhyme like a concert of windchimes while you sit on your porch and drink a little summer wine.

What is it about a well played acoustic guitar?

Is there some irony in a wordsy bastard like myself wanting someone else to hurry up and get on with it? I mean, its like pulling teeth for me to write a post that's less than 400 words with only about 100 of them being relavent.

So, I'll just shut up and play.

ska-plosion/you never know pt. 2

"You got to give me, give me fever." - Jingo

old places, fresh faces: yeah boy...its all new and blue and good for you too. I finally learned the art of cascading style sheets and me likey likey. There's still some quirks...like the comments link has a habit of shutting down my IE 5.0 on the mac and its not formatted quite correctly but i'm working on it. If you read the new things you should know yesterday, you should read it again today. I added some new biographical tidbits plus some linkage. Its a fun little tour of my life in my head. I'm sure there are other odd problems running around...hopefully I'll get them fixed one day.

other things: I ran tings rude bwoy today, fo' sure. I set up my musicmatch jukebox 'ska-tastic' radio station with the following: Phyllis Dillon, Hepcat, Desmond Dekker, Lee "Scratch" Perry and The Skatalites. It brought me back music from Peter Tosh, Alton and Hortense Ellis, Black Uhuru, Ken Boothe, Jackie Mittoo and Bob Marley among others. The Tosh, Ellis, Boothe, Mittoo, Dillon, and Scratch stuff was just ridiculously good. But for some reason, putting in Hepcat also gets me some Rancid and some poor punk saps called M.E.S.T. from Chicago. I just was not feeling them at all. I also heard a few tracks from The Specials but didn't get into it too much...I might not have been in the right frame of mind for them today though. Ska had me hankering for some funk and soul too so I sprinkled in some Edwin Starr, Gloria Jones, Bootsy Collins and Bernie Worrell around lunch time. And of course some James Brown...you can't leave out the godfather.

Snail mail delivered by a postal carrier is so much better than email delivered by a dell server. Especially mail from folks visiting far away places or from friends who make envelopes out of magazine pages.

and now, since a few of you wanted to know more in the tails of the yet unnamed guy and girl from last post...the baked potato. FYI...while a lot of this is fictionalized, it doesn't work for me unless I use the people's real names. But don't get it twisted, while the emotion may be very real, the situations may very well not be.

sweet & bitter/ you never know pt. 1

"Never do, what they do." - The Roots featuring Raphael Saadiq

bringing back sweet memories:

She shudders when I touch the back of her knee
She stops breathing when I kiss her belly button
She squirms from the warmth of my fingers
She grabs and begs pulling me closer
She shakes and moans when I give her what she wants
I shudder now when I think about how we once made love

other weekend notes: I'm not happy with the design of this site. At all. But I've been spending a lot of time at some other places (see melly, see jael, see jason, see laura) and I'm ready to steal from all of them. Hopefully I'll have something new in place by the end of the week.

star wars: attack of the clones - Probably third best of the Star Wars films (behind Empire and A New Hope). The story is a little weak, the dialogue a little pat...but this baby moves.

unfaithful - sometimes being uncomfortable breeds creativity (see above). I'm not sure if it was good or bad. Mostly it was irksome. And irksome is an awesome word.

the others - I figured out the twist from the trailers last summer so it wasn't a surprise at the end. Nice filmmaking otherwise though.

from hell - beautiful period film. Story a wee bit confusing.

los angeles lakers - basketball at its finest. quit whining about fouls sac-town.

my sister can dance.

don't ask chi-ali or aaliyah

"erotic city can't you see, erotic city you and me" - Prince

random free association of the day: the greatest secret agent in the world. Here's how I got there - cecily's post - "blak iz blak" - mos def - maus maus - danger mouse.

age is more than a number: someone hit me with this question today - "What do you think of a 16 year old having a relationship with a 30 year old?" jiggawhat? What do I think? I think that any adult who can and wants to have a relationship with a teenager is a dangerous person.

Look, I'm 27 and my sister is 15...could I date one of her friends? No. Wanna know why? They still have to count on their fingers sometimes. The greatest album they can remember is *nsync's No Strings Attached. When I say Star Wars they think Phantom Menace...and don't know who Princess Leia is or why Lando Calrissian is a bad mamma jamma. They live at home with their parents. They can still get a 'time out' if they act up. They say shit like "why do I have to learn about the vietnam war, that was, like, ancient history." They still have homework.

I'm 27 and I couldn't date an undergrad in college. The maturity curve is just too low. When the most important situation in your life is how you're going to get your parents to send you another hundred bucks so you can pay your phone bill we have nothing to talk about.

A 30 year old who is willingly putting him or herself in a position where they could even imagine being in a relationship with a baby--yes, you are still a baby at 16--is either dirty, screwed up, or mentally deficient. And probably all three.

Young fella there's nothing you can get out of this except hurt. Think about staying home on Saturday night or renting a movie with some friends. Dinner with old dirty ain't where its at.

quik-stop posting

"Get on the good foot." - James Brown

quik-stop posting:

• 4-1. Here we go, Lakers. Here we go!
• One of my favorite sites in the world got featured in Yahoo Internet Life. And stee got one of his reviews quoted. That rocks.
• YIL also talks about camwhores.com and the culture of the teen cam girl. I wasn't really disturbed by it until I read the article. Working in reality television, I've been desensitized a bit to the concept that there is harm in fame for fame's sake and this current climate of the public private. Maybe we shouldn't be taking off our clothes in exchange for CD's and candles from target. Hmm, girls? Especially if you're just barely 18. Open your books, close your boudoir.
• is it wrong that I really want to see this. Come on...Dave Chapelle's in it. I wanna see it just for this one scene in the trailer: "He had sex with that white girl." "Really?" "Was it every thing I dreamed?" Cracks me up every damn time.
• Watched Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back today. There were a couple funny bits but I wasn't that impressed. Chris Rock was brilliant. Eliza was beautiful as usual but I was probably most impressed with Shannon Elizabeth's ability to do comedy and willingness to prat fall. She should just dump the whole sex kitten thing and do the funny all the time.
• tonight buffy rocked. Its been a long time since the show was surprising and entertaining. It was all that tonight in spades. And for the first time I felt that some of the characters were really grown up and a lot more dimensional.
• pick up a copy of tv guide this week just for the Cosby Show piece. Rudy's beautiful as a grown-up. Just stunning. And Tempest Bledsoe is 28 and single living in LA. Call me.

heat induced

no lyrics tonight - just listen to that xylophone. In come the conga drums (da boom bip bap boom boom). Now the keyboards. And back to the xylophone. Its latin rhythm. Its from the root. You don't just hear it. You feel it in the pit of your belly. Your body moves instinctually. Like the motions of making love the first time. My knee there. Your hip here. And you're in the moment. Strafe that hi-hat with your drumstick, son. Smack that conga with the palm of your hand, man. Keep me here but take me to another place. And there is the xylophone... - 10:14pm, KCRW, Chocolate City, Garth Trinidad spinning just for me on a Monday night.

where's Radio Rahiem?: If its not the hottest day of the year, it sure in the hell feels like. I'm being berated by the sun today. Its yelling at my skin, screaming at my forehead, bearing down on me with pressure and fatigue and laziness. I'm sitting here, one light on, the glass patio door open, the screen door slightly ajar, the fan on high. You see, the air conditioner's not working. Now, I've had maintenance in 3 times in the last year to fix it but of course, it still doesn't work right. Yeah, thermostat says 88 degrees. Its 10:22pm and its 88 degrees. Bailey is laying next to me panting like he was wearing leather underwear beneath a thick wool shawl. Thank goodness for being human and having sweat glands. My shirt is off, I'm debating walking over to 7-11 and just climbing in a freezer. My kingdom for some rain. Global Warming is no joke.

And if you didn't get the title reference...please go get your primer and maybe pick up my 40 acres and a mule.

skanking 101: I've finally succumbed. 3 shows in the last 2 months. My obsession with Right on Time and Balls of Fire. Happening upon the androgynous mind. I'm gonna get my ska on. Now, let's be clear...I'm not your ska-core, your ska-punk. I might be a little enamored with two tone but I'm mostly feeling the dj focused dub (of course) and the rocksteady origins of the genre. I'll probably be making purchases of some new stuff in the next month or so. Suggestions? What are like the 5 ska albums I must own. Colin...of course I'm staring at you.

and I don't even understand what Third Wave is...i have much to learn. But next time I go to a show, I'm going to do the skank instead of my standard hip hop motions.

You fools are going to try to pull me into the scene, I know it. I'm going to fight it, man. I don't need a bad fro and a bomber jacket and jeans that are too tight.

vacaccion? si, si, vacaccion!: I need a holiday. Just a day or two. I need to be outside. Maybe take in a couple hours of pickup basketball in the middle of the day. Maybe have lunch on the beach. Maybe people watch in Venice. Maybe find a shady bench and read the 6 or so books that have stacked up on top of the bookshelf. I just know I need to get the hell out of the office and not be with these people for a little while, just break the monotony of the week. Maybe I could get up early and do the fireman's workout on the beach. Let my bell hang over my shorts while the hardbodies run by and not be ashamed or self-conscious. Stretch. Breathe. Release. Relax.

he's scared-a-me. Roper's scared. Come out, Roper. You're going to kiss the donkey. Come on and kiss the donkey: I love that movie. All Terry Conklin wants to do is fix the homelessness issue. Its like how Charles Barkley says all the time that he just wants to help poor people. The question though is "How do you help poor people?" or even deeper "Is poverty a fixable problem?" or even deeper "Is poverty a problem at all or just a natural class in any society?" This whole question came up pretty much from my LA Riots discussions from a week or so ago. the lovely Miss Mahoney asks "Why don't rich people riot?"

answers?

quik-stop poetry:

morning smiles in the bathroom mirror
afternoon thoughts cause muffled laughter
evening time brings comfort and quiet;
..............silence provides such peaceful air
midnight wonders of next day's cares
What if life was so good, you didn't want to share?

hi mom, i'm creaky...

"You're like text book characters getting 'x'ed out the rough draft" - De La Soul:

kill all the drama, we all came from a mama: Happy Mother's Day to my mom and all the mom's that happen up on this piece. Like Melly. By the way, Melly Mel, I would gloat that the Lake Show laid the smash down on your MVP-havin' Spurs on Friday but we play in about 3 hours and I don't need to fuck up purple and gold Karma. Ma? Love Ya. Today as much for being my friend as for giving me life. Even if we weren't related I'd choose ya. You probably wouldn't choose me though right? I mean compared to your rock star ass, I'm C level and you're strictly A list.

Damn.

I hate her.

old ass motherfuckers: I'm sore. At 27, the legs just don't have the juice anymore. I was trying to represent to the fullest, you know, full bore dancing at Soul Revival Heaven in the basement of Micelli's pizzeria on Las Palmas and Hollywood at midnight. The house music was blaring. Beautiful people rocking t-shirts with expensive jeans and caps. The Lechtastic swaying back and forth. Anna baby with the eyes closed moving to the rhythm trying to fight the haze of the night's imbibement. Ben being a lil bit soul train a lil bit quirky doing the 'pose and watch' dance in the corner. And I'm doin' it doin' it. Straight shuffle ball change for that ass. But there were cramps and muscles not reacting like I want them to and the sweat in the eyes and the heavy breathing and the near death experiences because of exhaustion. Wow. We're some old ass motherfuckers.

Anna's birthday bonanza last night. The gang was all there. We did dinner at La Frite. I forgot how good the food is there. I might hate the French but I love the French Food. Fo'rilla. There was drama, of course. Sun and Lauren are not speaking. Felicia is Dr. Flakenstein. Lauren ends up at BB Kings anyway even though she wasn't on the invite list. Anna and I hold hands so that I don't have to adorn the knight's armor but it was moot as Sun was enough kryptonite to keep the L Boogie away this evening. Crown Royal shots cuz you know how we do. All warm up in the face. The Twilites set was too short. The Kingston 10 rock rock rocked it. The couples bailed early cuz, you know, couplepeoples have responsibilities and shit. We old ass single folks can pretend like we're still young and try to rock it to the wee hours. Even if that wee hour is only 1am but feels like 4am. Oh well. It was good times, good times. I think Anna had a good birthday and that's really all that matters.

Ben is a new cat in the party posse. Nice guy. A little uncomfortable with silence (at the end of the night, I'm kind of about doing the chillout with smooth tracks or old school r&b, singing in the car and bringing back sweet memories so I can get a good night's rest. Ben was about talking about all sorts of shit. Shhhhh. Quiet. Be one with the night, motherfucker. Let's not let it be about you for maybe 10 minutes okay. At least for this one song, huh? How about the chorus? Can't you see that old New Edition track is just right for this moment. Why can't we all just try to hit this high note with Usher because, hey, "you don't have to call...its okay girl") but yeah, nice guy.

Happy Birthday Anna baby.

the perils of p'lette: Friday night. Venice Beach. Main Street. O'Brien's Irish Pub. P'lette's date of birth digital getdown. Now, let me just preface this by saying that I was probably not in the right frame of mind because I had just come from my sister's piano recital. She did Nocturne and just killed it. Three kids played cello and I'm all about the strings. The last girl just blew me away not only with how well she manipulated the instrument but with her style. 15 and adorned in the cute european style shoes and the glittery black blouse with the fuzzy collar. And still looking appropriately 15. She had presence and everything. And just destroyed some Beethoven like it was twinkle twinkle little star. Damn. Oh and this other young lady sang Claire de Lune and Nell. Had this negro all emotional with tears and shit feeling the emotion in the song. I'm not just married to music, its made me its bitch. And I'm submissive and happy as I could be.

But back to Venice. Happy Birthday P'lette. I have a birthday present for ya, kiddo. It was in the car and everything but, yeah, I was lost in classical pieces. Jen and Paisley rule my planet. At some point, Paisley's going to have to gain admission into my inner circle cuz I really don't get to hang out with her enough and she's just one of those cool people that needs to be your friend. There was a whole new york contingency with us. They didn't talk to anyone who wasn't from the NY though so hey...fuck 'em.

P'lette's cake was tasty. I missed singing happy birthday though cuz I was outside shooting the shit with the Pen Da Da on the cell phone. Sorry P'lette. I'll make it up to you. P'lette? Hey, where's P'lette? She was just here. P'lettey Doo, Where are you?

Yeah, we lost her. I don't know how. She was there and then she wasn't. I know we got distracted by the drunkard trying to pick up Jenny and Paisley but you didn't have to go and start a hide and seek game without telling anyone. We had the search party out...drunk argentinians, goofy white guys in bad suits, stumbling fools...everyone was on the lookout. Searching other clubs, calling friends long gone, looking in cabs. And you were hiding.

I know its your birthday and you can hide if you want to but hey man, we were worried. I'm not giving you shit either. I'm giving you love. And that's for real. I was nervous.

suggestions: Get DJ Babu's Duck Season Vol. 1. Workout to the Firefighter's Workout on DVD. Go see Blackalicious for free at Amoeba Music on Monday. Chill at the House of Blues with De La and Swollen Members on Tuesday. Try to fanagle some Kids in the Hall Tix for friday or saturday at the Wiltern. Remember the names Sia, Miss Kittin, MURS, Lifesavas and Blueprint. When they blow up...yeah, I told ya so. And Canadian Hip Hop is about to get real hot. Watch Out.

Oh...thanks Jenny for the Alias tip. I taped Friday Night. It ruled the planet. Death to the Willage Idiot. And I even liked him that episode....awww yeah.