Probably won't be the first or last person to feel compelled to write about this movie, but what the hell. I admit this won't really be a review as much as it is the feeling it stirs within me. This will be more of a commentary. Also, I do realize that taking about something I haven't written yet in the past tense is highly irregular. So is being awake at 233am to write about a movie cause my Dog kicked me out of my bed.
I preface my thoughts on the second in the series of Twilight movies by admitting I haven't read any of the books. This lack of knowledge is why I considered the first movie to be uninspired. Not that it makes sense financially, but I would have shortened everything from the first movie into 45 minutes and thrown it into the beginning of "New Moon". Twilight always felt like it wasn't really a story as much as it was a setup for everything to come. It is a success in that I felt very prepared to enjoy the complete story that is "New Moon". Is that grammatically proper? Quotes round a movie title? I'm sure I paid someone good money to teach me proper usage, but I find certain aspects of the written English language to be flexible. If you don't believe me then go back and read anything written in ye oldern times. Not too many bloggers or experienced columnists throwing out prose or Shakespearean tendencies. Nevermind all that. On to the meat of the story.
EVERY good story is a LOVE story. It's just wrapped in a different packages and presented in various ways. This is one of my few beliefs. Any good story I have ever written has been a form of a love story. It just always taps into the same space in all of us. We can all relate to the same exact emotions in all the possible Points of View. After seeing "New Moon", I completely understand how soo many people are enamored with the basic story. Especially women. Love, in it's best forms, always feels infinite and unbreakable. Full of absolutes and promises and vows. We ALL want love to be so extreme and that's why the story behind the books of the Twilight series works and why the movies are now going to really hit people.
The first movie assumed too much for the uninformed such as myself. Went from intro to "now you know" mode and then everything was life and death. That's where it lost me. Doesn't stand alone as a solid story. On the other hand, "New Moon" certainly stands on it's own based on the simple premise of the sequel or series movie trend. If you are going to see "New Moon", you more than likely saw the first one. It's justified in assuming certain "knowns" about the characters and the storyline. That all said, it got ME via the LOVE heavy storyline. Ya, werewolves and vampires certainly spice it all up. That's just the packaging. I will go ahead and make a blanket statement.
ONE of the forms of love in "New Moon" will hit you very hard.
This is what I mean. For purposes of this paragraph, I will keep using "You" to describe the reader as if I'm sitting right in front of you telling you this. OKAY? You have had the conversations Jacob, Edward and Bella have with each other. You have made the same promises. You have broken the same promises. You have done something in order to protect someone cause you cared too much. You have sat in that room wondering why the hole in your chest won't go away or fill back up. You have turned to someone else to help pull you out of the empty pit that is losing Love. You have had to make a choice. You have broken someones heart. You have acted impulsively in the name of love. You have had to figuratively pull someone out of the water and save them from themselves.
Somewhere in there is one that hits every single one of us. Maybe it's all of them or a lot of them. All those examples are broad in range. It's kind of the nature of Love in the first place. It's why we all experience it in such similar ways. Cause no one can really explain it as a route to travel or a test to prepare for. It just happens and human instinct takes over and cause of how similarly we all are made it makes us all say the same things.
"I would never hurt you like that. I promise you."
"I had to go to protect you from me. That's how much I love you."
"I can't imagine living in world that is without you."
Bet someone else reading this has actually said something like one of the 3 quotes I just listed. Then again, unless I advertise this puppy only about 5 people will read it, so screw that bet. I can't afford to lose any money right now.
Forget some of the nit picky personal things you can sometimes bring into a movie cause you have seen hundreds of them in your short lives. Try to not critique the acting. No one really know what a love triangle between a human, vampire and a wolf is suppose to look like. There is no reference point, so stop complaining bout Rob, Kristen and Taylor. Just focus and pay attention to what I have said. If I have said anything at all of course. I'm not really sure. I'm just typing here people. I'm not saying you have to cry along with the show or coooo with any dramatic dialogue. Just allow yourself to get lost in searching for the moment in "New Moon" that makes you say.............
"I know exactly how that feels."
To answer the question, yes I did like the movie. I am considering reading the books now. Edward sucks, Bella is cool, Alice is my style and oooooooh that Jacob. I understand the look to a degree, but at least one of the shirtless moments was just unnecessary. Call it being a hater or whatever makes you feel better, but just one less moment like that and I would have been cool with the whole look since it's a tribe/animal thing. Till next time. Hope that actually was a good read. Quick first draft writing and posting is a 50/50 thing for me. :)
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The Corner of Van Maren Lane & Calvin Drive
Episode 1
I didn't know how much I would miss my normal life till it was taken from me. My doctor told me that I would have to have to stay off my feet for close to 3 months with limited activity come the final month. Seemed like a simple request, but I had no idea the physical atrophy would only be surpassed by my mental atrophy. I didn't really know how far I could take this doing nothing agenda till I was told It was good for my health. I realize there are levels to resting and healing up and now I know what level I took it to. The most extreme form of apathy I've ever felt is probably an honest assessment of the situation. I asked myself a basic question recently. How do I shake this feeling off? My answer was to go for a walk.
It had to have been around noon time on a Thursday. I found some dirty, broken-in sneakers and slapped on my fancy knee brace and I ventured outside of my house. It had been awhile since I'd seen the outdoors. Don't get me wrong, I had done certain necessary things once in awhile that required my leaving my home prior to this day. Those always felt like chores though. This walk was my first return to my old life. It may have been a simple life, but it worked for me and it kept me sane. I could proudly say that I was a slightly mediocre adult who carried his weight and moved along quietly. Rock bottom has skewed my point of view now I can only look in the mirror and come up with other words to describe myself. Leech. Bum. Squatter. Heathen.
I was barely 50 feet into my neighborhood walk when I saw her. An old lady sitting on her bricked up sidewalk decorations waving a tiny American flag. I had seen here in the same spot hundreds of times over the past year. I would nod occasionally as I drove by her while she waved her flag proudly. This was the first time I was actually going to walk by her and be within speaking distance. Normally, I would have just kept pushing by as I gave some sorta faint acknowledgement that she existed. This was a different story. What was my hurry? I had no real responsibilities to attend to, so I might as well make something out of this day. I slowly strided towards her and introduced myself.
"Hello. My name is Wesley. How is your day going ma'am?"
The old lady waved her flag a couple of seconds after my initial statement and smiled as if to hide her bewilderment to being approached by me.
"Thank you kindly son. God bless you and God bless America."
I froze in shock. This elderly white haired, wrinkly skinned white woman was giving me a Jamaican accent. I almost burst out laughing on the spot. As soon as my eyebrows had come back down from signalling my initial shock I blurted out the next thing I could think of.
"Nice weather for late October wouldn't ya say?"
The old lady dropped her flag and began clapping her hands. She was applauding my statement. Then she began singing.
"I can seeee clearly now the rain is gone. I can seeee allll obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had meeee down. It's gonna be a bright....bright... sun shiny day!"
My eyes once again could not disguise my first impression of this gem of a human being. I felt the urge to be bluntly reactionary with my next quip back at her, but I refrained. Something made me want to play this out in a very polite fashion. Seemed like the best way to go to keep the old lady going.
"Jimmy Cliff, right?"
She responded, "I always think of it at Johnny Nash's song."
The Old lady picked her flag up and waved it towards a couple of cars driving by us and all i could do was smile and nod in response to her musical overture.
"What's with the thing-a-majig attached to your leg, Wesley?"
I bent down and adjusted my right knee brace and attempted to pull the thinnest response possible. Anything to avoid reliving that incident.
"Just my first sign of old age. Lil weekend warrior soccer injury. No big deal."
"It certainly looks like a big deal. It goes from your ass to your ankle."
"Doctor told me I needed this to help speed up the recovery process, so anything he says goes."
The old lady gave me a once over and shrugged her shoulders in faint approval. I darted my eyes around in search of something bland to say in hopes of triggering a new response from my patriotic neighbor.
"Soooo, how long you been coming out on the street corner and waving that flag at passersby?"
As if I triggered a physical tick, the old lady began waving her flag back and forth in my direction.
" Ever since my husband and I moved out here. I'd say 8 years, give or take."
"That's amazing Maam. Why the American flag? Why not a Sacramento kings flag?"
The old lady put her head down in shame and said in whispered tones...
"Had to always remember 9-11. We can't never forget."
Seeing as how it was 2009, I didn't have the heart to try and delve deeper into her methods of madness. Plus, I was still fighting back laughters and screams from listening to her genuine Jamaician dialect. Besides, I knew I was one turn around the block from seeing the old lady again. Plenty of time to think of more bland chatter.
"It was nice meeting you. I do hope to chat more soon now that we know each other. Later Maam.
I could feel the flag going back and forth as I passed by to continue my walk. I couldn't get her voice out of my head. I figured I'd be back around in no time for the sun set. Crazy Old Lady
I didn't know how much I would miss my normal life till it was taken from me. My doctor told me that I would have to have to stay off my feet for close to 3 months with limited activity come the final month. Seemed like a simple request, but I had no idea the physical atrophy would only be surpassed by my mental atrophy. I didn't really know how far I could take this doing nothing agenda till I was told It was good for my health. I realize there are levels to resting and healing up and now I know what level I took it to. The most extreme form of apathy I've ever felt is probably an honest assessment of the situation. I asked myself a basic question recently. How do I shake this feeling off? My answer was to go for a walk.
It had to have been around noon time on a Thursday. I found some dirty, broken-in sneakers and slapped on my fancy knee brace and I ventured outside of my house. It had been awhile since I'd seen the outdoors. Don't get me wrong, I had done certain necessary things once in awhile that required my leaving my home prior to this day. Those always felt like chores though. This walk was my first return to my old life. It may have been a simple life, but it worked for me and it kept me sane. I could proudly say that I was a slightly mediocre adult who carried his weight and moved along quietly. Rock bottom has skewed my point of view now I can only look in the mirror and come up with other words to describe myself. Leech. Bum. Squatter. Heathen.
I was barely 50 feet into my neighborhood walk when I saw her. An old lady sitting on her bricked up sidewalk decorations waving a tiny American flag. I had seen here in the same spot hundreds of times over the past year. I would nod occasionally as I drove by her while she waved her flag proudly. This was the first time I was actually going to walk by her and be within speaking distance. Normally, I would have just kept pushing by as I gave some sorta faint acknowledgement that she existed. This was a different story. What was my hurry? I had no real responsibilities to attend to, so I might as well make something out of this day. I slowly strided towards her and introduced myself.
"Hello. My name is Wesley. How is your day going ma'am?"
The old lady waved her flag a couple of seconds after my initial statement and smiled as if to hide her bewilderment to being approached by me.
"Thank you kindly son. God bless you and God bless America."
I froze in shock. This elderly white haired, wrinkly skinned white woman was giving me a Jamaican accent. I almost burst out laughing on the spot. As soon as my eyebrows had come back down from signalling my initial shock I blurted out the next thing I could think of.
"Nice weather for late October wouldn't ya say?"
The old lady dropped her flag and began clapping her hands. She was applauding my statement. Then she began singing.
"I can seeee clearly now the rain is gone. I can seeee allll obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had meeee down. It's gonna be a bright....bright... sun shiny day!"
My eyes once again could not disguise my first impression of this gem of a human being. I felt the urge to be bluntly reactionary with my next quip back at her, but I refrained. Something made me want to play this out in a very polite fashion. Seemed like the best way to go to keep the old lady going.
"Jimmy Cliff, right?"
She responded, "I always think of it at Johnny Nash's song."
The Old lady picked her flag up and waved it towards a couple of cars driving by us and all i could do was smile and nod in response to her musical overture.
"What's with the thing-a-majig attached to your leg, Wesley?"
I bent down and adjusted my right knee brace and attempted to pull the thinnest response possible. Anything to avoid reliving that incident.
"Just my first sign of old age. Lil weekend warrior soccer injury. No big deal."
"It certainly looks like a big deal. It goes from your ass to your ankle."
"Doctor told me I needed this to help speed up the recovery process, so anything he says goes."
The old lady gave me a once over and shrugged her shoulders in faint approval. I darted my eyes around in search of something bland to say in hopes of triggering a new response from my patriotic neighbor.
"Soooo, how long you been coming out on the street corner and waving that flag at passersby?"
As if I triggered a physical tick, the old lady began waving her flag back and forth in my direction.
" Ever since my husband and I moved out here. I'd say 8 years, give or take."
"That's amazing Maam. Why the American flag? Why not a Sacramento kings flag?"
The old lady put her head down in shame and said in whispered tones...
"Had to always remember 9-11. We can't never forget."
Seeing as how it was 2009, I didn't have the heart to try and delve deeper into her methods of madness. Plus, I was still fighting back laughters and screams from listening to her genuine Jamaician dialect. Besides, I knew I was one turn around the block from seeing the old lady again. Plenty of time to think of more bland chatter.
"It was nice meeting you. I do hope to chat more soon now that we know each other. Later Maam.
I could feel the flag going back and forth as I passed by to continue my walk. I couldn't get her voice out of my head. I figured I'd be back around in no time for the sun set. Crazy Old Lady
Friday, October 2, 2009
My nose
My most powerful memory trigger is my nose. My sense of smell will always relocate my mind back into a place so far gone as to make me feel like an old man. The smells and memories tend to be the same. Probably cause I've lived in the greater Sacramento area for the past 30 years. No doubt a relocation might make some of the senses a lil brighter or duller, depending on my relocation. Anyways, this smell/memory trigger happened to me twice in one day a week back. One morning and one night.
I usually wake up around the same time every morning thanks to my lovely dog, Larry. I gotta respect that he is smart enough to be potty trained and when he signals I gotta let him loose. I am what is commonly referred to as a "bad dog owner." Anything that dog knows is cause he taught himself and is running the pack. Anyhow, We venture into the backyard of my residence and am greeted with that first official Fall morning. Not cold enough to have to cover up. Just wet enough to cover the grass. And just bright enough to see it all. Boom! To borrow some Batman TV series lingo, I flash and I feel exactly how I felt on 2 separate occasions in my life. They were mornings that happened frequently at the time, but are now generalized into singular moments.
Bella Vista and Jesuit High School.
I attended Soccer camps growing up. Specifically, Goalie camps since that was my position of choice. I went to the same camp 3 separate times. It was locally run and was a week long camp. It was a pickup/drop off type camp. I will stay on course with this post and go with the more important of the memories of the camp to further this along. The camp usually ran for early in the morning till mid-afternoon. Those morning when I would be dropped off in the parking lot and make the long walk to the soccer fields I could just feel atmosphere around me. It was just the beginning of a long day ahead. The smell of the wet grass back then gives me the same chill even now. "Time to put in work". I just always knew I was gonna feel worse by the end of that day, but a calming deep breathe in would make it seem possible.
Around the same time frame of my past I would continue to add on to emotional depth of my morning smell trigger. Jesuit High School was the elite campus to set foot on in the Sacramento area in the early 90's. Love it or hate it, if you ever walked around that campus in that era while having the same knowledge of the rest of the high schools in the area you know what I'm talking about. Before public funding in the past ten years helped create the 6-8 schools that are on par or superior to Jesuit's campus, it was the top of the food chain. I spent an entire school year there and it left some pretty strong ideals in me. It's the closest I ever really got to higher education and a sense of going off on my own to live. I was still doing the PU/DO ride thing, so it always began the same way. Another long walk during the early mornings. It was a lil bit of a drive to get from my house to the school, so it had that same going away feel. The parking lot was on the opposite end of the classrooms. In between the lot and the classrooms was grass. Tons of grass. There was this concrete walkway directly in the middle of this grassy entrance. The same smell would hit me. Wet and warm. Like a new start to a new adventure. Another chance to prove I belonged. That all this leading up to that moment mattered. To not let my parents down. To find the next path. Another emotional stamp.
It's honestly been awhile since I thought of those days and those memories. I should think about them more often.
Now for the night smell. It wasn't quite wet or dark. It just felt kinda empty and murky. Like a grey cloud was just making you sparkle just a lil less that night. Use to feel this at 2 places. The off-campus Math/stats class I took in my Junior college years. The years I actually attended class that is. And Mr. Video. One of my classic beginner jobs. Both happened round the years 98-00. It was the glass half-empty portion of new beginnings of my life. "I'm not even suppose to be here today." I should have had that tattooed on me at some point during my "Clerks" style vocational ventures. I use to close that place up and from 9pm till midnight it was quite the show/ghost town. We had a rating policy on what movies we could play throughout the 6 TV screens in the store. Not at those hours. I believe I slipped a couple "Nightmare on Elm Street" flicks in during my closing days. It was a total just getting by with life kinda time. The air just surrounded me with it and I couldn't escape it. The smell set the mood and I just lived in it.
Crazy to have em both hit on the same day. Can't recall that ever happening before. As if I was being given a choice to go from here on out as Day or Night guy. I kinda dig both of em for the memories left unsaid in the past few paragraphs. I believe the fact that I am writing this down is a wonderful sign that maybe I will live in more days and forget more nights. guess that's why I've been trying to grow the grass in the backyard again. Just to smell the grass.
Talk to ya when I talk to ya
See ya when I see ya.,
I usually wake up around the same time every morning thanks to my lovely dog, Larry. I gotta respect that he is smart enough to be potty trained and when he signals I gotta let him loose. I am what is commonly referred to as a "bad dog owner." Anything that dog knows is cause he taught himself and is running the pack. Anyhow, We venture into the backyard of my residence and am greeted with that first official Fall morning. Not cold enough to have to cover up. Just wet enough to cover the grass. And just bright enough to see it all. Boom! To borrow some Batman TV series lingo, I flash and I feel exactly how I felt on 2 separate occasions in my life. They were mornings that happened frequently at the time, but are now generalized into singular moments.
Bella Vista and Jesuit High School.
I attended Soccer camps growing up. Specifically, Goalie camps since that was my position of choice. I went to the same camp 3 separate times. It was locally run and was a week long camp. It was a pickup/drop off type camp. I will stay on course with this post and go with the more important of the memories of the camp to further this along. The camp usually ran for early in the morning till mid-afternoon. Those morning when I would be dropped off in the parking lot and make the long walk to the soccer fields I could just feel atmosphere around me. It was just the beginning of a long day ahead. The smell of the wet grass back then gives me the same chill even now. "Time to put in work". I just always knew I was gonna feel worse by the end of that day, but a calming deep breathe in would make it seem possible.
Around the same time frame of my past I would continue to add on to emotional depth of my morning smell trigger. Jesuit High School was the elite campus to set foot on in the Sacramento area in the early 90's. Love it or hate it, if you ever walked around that campus in that era while having the same knowledge of the rest of the high schools in the area you know what I'm talking about. Before public funding in the past ten years helped create the 6-8 schools that are on par or superior to Jesuit's campus, it was the top of the food chain. I spent an entire school year there and it left some pretty strong ideals in me. It's the closest I ever really got to higher education and a sense of going off on my own to live. I was still doing the PU/DO ride thing, so it always began the same way. Another long walk during the early mornings. It was a lil bit of a drive to get from my house to the school, so it had that same going away feel. The parking lot was on the opposite end of the classrooms. In between the lot and the classrooms was grass. Tons of grass. There was this concrete walkway directly in the middle of this grassy entrance. The same smell would hit me. Wet and warm. Like a new start to a new adventure. Another chance to prove I belonged. That all this leading up to that moment mattered. To not let my parents down. To find the next path. Another emotional stamp.
It's honestly been awhile since I thought of those days and those memories. I should think about them more often.
Now for the night smell. It wasn't quite wet or dark. It just felt kinda empty and murky. Like a grey cloud was just making you sparkle just a lil less that night. Use to feel this at 2 places. The off-campus Math/stats class I took in my Junior college years. The years I actually attended class that is. And Mr. Video. One of my classic beginner jobs. Both happened round the years 98-00. It was the glass half-empty portion of new beginnings of my life. "I'm not even suppose to be here today." I should have had that tattooed on me at some point during my "Clerks" style vocational ventures. I use to close that place up and from 9pm till midnight it was quite the show/ghost town. We had a rating policy on what movies we could play throughout the 6 TV screens in the store. Not at those hours. I believe I slipped a couple "Nightmare on Elm Street" flicks in during my closing days. It was a total just getting by with life kinda time. The air just surrounded me with it and I couldn't escape it. The smell set the mood and I just lived in it.
Crazy to have em both hit on the same day. Can't recall that ever happening before. As if I was being given a choice to go from here on out as Day or Night guy. I kinda dig both of em for the memories left unsaid in the past few paragraphs. I believe the fact that I am writing this down is a wonderful sign that maybe I will live in more days and forget more nights. guess that's why I've been trying to grow the grass in the backyard again. Just to smell the grass.
Talk to ya when I talk to ya
See ya when I see ya.,
I wore Pink before it was the Bees Knees.
10/22/2005. Release date. Only slight pink accents, but enough to stand out when worn on a basketball court by a guy. I did that. Yep, I wore em. I just like having a lil color in my life and I express that through the shoes I wear. Not immediate attention getters mind you, but still my favorite pair of Jordans I ever used to play basketball. 
2/2009. Released in limited numbers to the public. I actually found my way to own 2 pairs with the intention of playing in one and keeping the other for potential future use. Ended up hooking up another pink shoe lover, so what you see is my one and only pair. It does have a pink ribbon on the tongue, cause it was produced by Nike to contribute some of the funds raised by it's sale to support Breast Cancer Awareness. Honestly, that was always a secondary reason for my purchase. Trust me, they have been worn on a basketball court. :)
I only exhibit these shoes to make a selfish point prior to this weekend. I've noticed a Twitter trend with some pro athletes and am aware of the current month being Breast Cancer Awareness month. More and more we are seeing causes be represented in sporting events. The best way to model this is via the main billboard for such ads, the athletes. This weekend you will see it. Grown men walking around a professional football field in PINK. Yep. 6'5" 250 lb. men will have pink shoes on and pink gloves and chin straps. Not all of them. Reggie Bush and Chad Ochocinco will be the main players that I know for sure will be sporting and supporting. Great cause. Fun way to do it. This is all good for all the right reasons and I dig it. I just want you to know that I was doing this long before other folks did. When you see Kobe Bryant and LeBron James doing the same thing next year in the NBA (speculation), yall better recognize that I set trends and people follow ME. That is all.
Talk to ya when I talk to ya
See ya when I see ya.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The Memories I'm suppose to have.
I watched the movie "Twilight" tonight. Heard too much about the books from friends and what not, so I figured I'd catch the 2 hour edited version. I get it and I don't at the same time. Most of them will probably tell me the books are much better. But, rather than getting into the finer points of the flick and it's story I will stick to my moment of inspiration caused by the viewing. Movie is coming to an end and Bella and Edward go to the Prom. Not quoting here, but Edward basically tells Bella it's a memory we all should have. At least that's what I'm remembering from 4 hours ago. I'm not the best with detailed memories.
I come to my own conclusion that lots of things in life are memories that we are just suppose to have gone through. Mostly just because. That's all. Just Cause! If, for nothing else, that it connects us all with these common jumpoffs. This is where this entry takes it's normal "Rich" twist. I don't have enough of them, if any at all. I did most of the growing up versions of MIMS (Memories I'M Suppose). What started my venture towards not doing the MIMS were my two HS Prom no-shows. I've done those stories before, so I'll spare the details. Point is, much like the movie I just saw I had that flash of opportunity to be apart of the collective. To have a common timeline with my peers. I skipped it. I missed it and MIMS tend to have a one-time only offer feel to them. There is absolutely no way to get the same experience if you try to relive them after your time. I was almost put in that position a few years after HS, but thanks to my own doing I created yet another out for myself.
I can keep recalling all of them right now. I have other memories that are replacements for them and have a certain MIMS feel to them, but they don't actually connect to the general wholeness of my people group. Surprise crashing a baby-shower isn't exactly common. I do find that my empty MIMS account seems to have created a whole other sense of individuality I otherwise wouldn't have. For that, I can be proud. But, wouldn't I still be able to have come out the other end of these past few years a similar person while having just had some of these experiences? Would it have really hurt me? If I'm giving off a lost, depressed vibe it's probably much warranted. After the last 2 months, I kinda just should be. In these times I tend to reflect. I even asked myself the other day what exactly am I doing with myself. For tonight, I will examine this perceived flaw and try to grasp from it a lil Sparkle of hope.
MIMS I lack-----
Never lived on my own.
Never went away to college.
Never went to a real college.
Never got so drunk that I don't remember what I did the night before.
Never asked a girl out just for the sake of doing it.Never broke up with anyone.
Never had a physical fight.
Never had a serious injury. (oops, cross that one off the list)
Never rebelled against anything other than myself.
Never bought my own car.
You get the drift. I have certain other things that aren't dead and gone as well, but they certainly do appear less likely as the years go by. I find that I am a lil empty inside for not having done these MIMS. I'm suppose to be able to have that go-to story. I'm suppose to have people tell me about the night I was outta control. I'm suppose to have a story that only 2 people in the world know and it can be simply referred to as "The night we shall never talk about again." I'm not sure if I'm the man I'm suppose to be cause of these missing chunks of my life. I certainly do find myself presented with a window of "things happen for a reason" opportunity. If I may spin this into the "Sparkle zone", perhaps it is this unusual set of circumstances that have created what sits before you today typing this entry. Maybe it's this road untraveled kinda guy that can produce something slightly off kilter cause I don't know what common is after all these years.
AND that, my small crew of readers, is where I saw the fork in the road and picked one. :)
I'll see ya when I see ya.
And talk to ya when I talk to ya.
Rabble Rock!
I come to my own conclusion that lots of things in life are memories that we are just suppose to have gone through. Mostly just because. That's all. Just Cause! If, for nothing else, that it connects us all with these common jumpoffs. This is where this entry takes it's normal "Rich" twist. I don't have enough of them, if any at all. I did most of the growing up versions of MIMS (Memories I'M Suppose). What started my venture towards not doing the MIMS were my two HS Prom no-shows. I've done those stories before, so I'll spare the details. Point is, much like the movie I just saw I had that flash of opportunity to be apart of the collective. To have a common timeline with my peers. I skipped it. I missed it and MIMS tend to have a one-time only offer feel to them. There is absolutely no way to get the same experience if you try to relive them after your time. I was almost put in that position a few years after HS, but thanks to my own doing I created yet another out for myself.
I can keep recalling all of them right now. I have other memories that are replacements for them and have a certain MIMS feel to them, but they don't actually connect to the general wholeness of my people group. Surprise crashing a baby-shower isn't exactly common. I do find that my empty MIMS account seems to have created a whole other sense of individuality I otherwise wouldn't have. For that, I can be proud. But, wouldn't I still be able to have come out the other end of these past few years a similar person while having just had some of these experiences? Would it have really hurt me? If I'm giving off a lost, depressed vibe it's probably much warranted. After the last 2 months, I kinda just should be. In these times I tend to reflect. I even asked myself the other day what exactly am I doing with myself. For tonight, I will examine this perceived flaw and try to grasp from it a lil Sparkle of hope.
MIMS I lack-----
Never lived on my own.
Never went away to college.
Never went to a real college.
Never got so drunk that I don't remember what I did the night before.
Never asked a girl out just for the sake of doing it.Never broke up with anyone.
Never had a physical fight.
Never had a serious injury. (oops, cross that one off the list)
Never rebelled against anything other than myself.
Never bought my own car.
You get the drift. I have certain other things that aren't dead and gone as well, but they certainly do appear less likely as the years go by. I find that I am a lil empty inside for not having done these MIMS. I'm suppose to be able to have that go-to story. I'm suppose to have people tell me about the night I was outta control. I'm suppose to have a story that only 2 people in the world know and it can be simply referred to as "The night we shall never talk about again." I'm not sure if I'm the man I'm suppose to be cause of these missing chunks of my life. I certainly do find myself presented with a window of "things happen for a reason" opportunity. If I may spin this into the "Sparkle zone", perhaps it is this unusual set of circumstances that have created what sits before you today typing this entry. Maybe it's this road untraveled kinda guy that can produce something slightly off kilter cause I don't know what common is after all these years.
AND that, my small crew of readers, is where I saw the fork in the road and picked one. :)
I'll see ya when I see ya.
And talk to ya when I talk to ya.
Rabble Rock!
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Thought on something I just saw.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRVqVwGWocM
Okay, this may be touchy for some folks. Perhaps I'm an inexperienced voice to be speaking on anyone's behalf when it comes to matters of race and hip hop. These are just my thoughts and observations. Do with them what you may.
My daily visit to WWTDD.com brought me to the discovery of a YouTube video. It's a comedy sketch video featuring NAS, Nick Cannon and Affion Crockett. I am assuming this was recently released over the past few days or week cause WWTDD.com is pretty topical with the events in media that they report on. I take into account that I laugh at a lot of things that most people wouldn't. I don't get offended cause I believe if you expose yourself to all types of languages and points of view you don't become overly sensitive to any one thing. But, after watching this video I find myself unable to determine what the main goal of this video was. I will break it down as I write and maybe I will come to some logical conclusion at the end.
It's titled a sketch, so it's trying for humor while also trying to make a valid point. Lots of humor is derived from the extreme exaggeration of a punchline. I have said in conversations about popular hip hop songs released over the past couple years that they are too faddish. Throw a beat at a rhymey hook and give it a specialized dance and you got yourself a hit. I would assume that the main culprits of these types of records are artists from the Colli Park record label and other young, black males who dress as if wearing your clothes like a mid-1980's white teenage movie character is what's good at the moment. I feel any mocking of these artists and their gone in 60 seconds singles is completely funny. Soulja Boy, Hurricane Chris, V.I.C. and and the GS Boyz need to step aside. You may have talent, but you are all just doing fad material the likes of MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice would appreciate.
In watching three successful black men mock this movement in hip hop through the video posted above I just come up with questions rather than just laughing and moving on. Truth be told, I did laugh at the video cause of how they remind these new, younger artists to watch the lines they may or may not step across. I understand the main goal and point, but did they have to go to the ultimate examples of white-man mocking blacks behavior to get the point across? It doesn't take a genius to figure out that while the trio blames these artists for their simplistic song making they also work in that corporations are guiding Hip Hop down this path of buffoonery. Really? Some white, corporate business assholes came together and geniusly came up with a way to trick young, black recording artists to shuck and jive for the year 2009? That seems like an awful leap to make between genius manipulators and actually just feeding into the public demand. Black and white alike dig into these styles of songs. Go ahead. Ask a teenager of any color and I bet you they know a few Soulja Boy songs. And while they got plenty of corporate backing it wasn't the master mental stroke of a corporation telling him to "Superman that Ho."
Maybe the extreme points of the video did exactly what they aimed to while also being a sketch that will be funny to some people. To make people look and watch and think and write bout it and spread it throughout the media underworld. It did it's job on that end. The blame for this current mutation of hip hop is spread to a lot of people. Producers, writers, artists, and businessmen alike all are profiting from the next dance craze track that hits and make for future goofy YouTube videos. Some of my initial reactions on first viewing? Good thing three black guys did this in a sketch humor attempt cause if it had been some fairly famous white guys attempting the same exact video it would be a whole different story for some people. Mind you, the points are still exactly the same and I'm not really sitting here and arguing for the rights of equal ability to do race-based conversations or humor. Also, any portrayal that these young artists are being taken advantage of or slaved out for the sake of entertainment is just wrong. "Masta is coming" isn't exactly spoofing the artists or their struggle to get known and get on with the business of making music and hits and money. I have given plenty of money to non-label connected hip hop artists who produce good records and find a way through the technologically advance world to sell their products. Go look up Atmosphere (two white guys) and Joe Budden (black guy). True hip hop artists who make money without corporate help who don't worry if they can jump on the auto-tune bandwagon or come up with a new simplistic dance hip hop track.
For me, taking this sketch too literally just means you don't know the whole story behind it all. On the other hand, taking it too lightly probably means you are some of the large contingency that celebrates generic, goofy pop songs. The sketch has merits and faults. I know the people involved are legitimate fans of hip hop, so it comes from a place of love while trying to take a stand against what's become of the genre they live for. But, they also should know that they don't make anything for the kind of audience that is buying up this 2009 fad version of hip hop. What this is setting up for is the backlash. The Death of Autotune and the dance track featuring some goofy comedian doing the dance as an entire record label gets on the track ala Wu-Tang Clan. And I apologize profusely to the Wu-Tang Clan for ever having their name anywhere close to this fad hop music. 36 Chambers is still that classic shit. Forever. Hip hop will never need saving from it's current pop version cause it will never get overrun by it. Mixtapes will survive. Jay-Z, NAS, Fabolous, Eminem, Slaughterhouse, Atmosphere and on and on will make sure that no matter how many people love "turn my swag on", it will not annihilator true hip hop. I guess in the end I will laugh at the YouTube video cause it's pretty ridiculous how far they think hip hop may go if left in it's current hands. I'll laugh cause I agree on some level that hip hop doesn't have to be about entertaining anyone with some absurd dance. I'll understand the point of it all and think they probably didn't have to go that far for the sake of a joke or making a PSA, mock not withstanding. It's whatever and now I just pass it on and say give it a look and expose yourself to something that may be outside your comfort level.
See ya when I see ya
Talk to ya when I talk to ya. :)
Okay, this may be touchy for some folks. Perhaps I'm an inexperienced voice to be speaking on anyone's behalf when it comes to matters of race and hip hop. These are just my thoughts and observations. Do with them what you may.
My daily visit to WWTDD.com brought me to the discovery of a YouTube video. It's a comedy sketch video featuring NAS, Nick Cannon and Affion Crockett. I am assuming this was recently released over the past few days or week cause WWTDD.com is pretty topical with the events in media that they report on. I take into account that I laugh at a lot of things that most people wouldn't. I don't get offended cause I believe if you expose yourself to all types of languages and points of view you don't become overly sensitive to any one thing. But, after watching this video I find myself unable to determine what the main goal of this video was. I will break it down as I write and maybe I will come to some logical conclusion at the end.
It's titled a sketch, so it's trying for humor while also trying to make a valid point. Lots of humor is derived from the extreme exaggeration of a punchline. I have said in conversations about popular hip hop songs released over the past couple years that they are too faddish. Throw a beat at a rhymey hook and give it a specialized dance and you got yourself a hit. I would assume that the main culprits of these types of records are artists from the Colli Park record label and other young, black males who dress as if wearing your clothes like a mid-1980's white teenage movie character is what's good at the moment. I feel any mocking of these artists and their gone in 60 seconds singles is completely funny. Soulja Boy, Hurricane Chris, V.I.C. and and the GS Boyz need to step aside. You may have talent, but you are all just doing fad material the likes of MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice would appreciate.
In watching three successful black men mock this movement in hip hop through the video posted above I just come up with questions rather than just laughing and moving on. Truth be told, I did laugh at the video cause of how they remind these new, younger artists to watch the lines they may or may not step across. I understand the main goal and point, but did they have to go to the ultimate examples of white-man mocking blacks behavior to get the point across? It doesn't take a genius to figure out that while the trio blames these artists for their simplistic song making they also work in that corporations are guiding Hip Hop down this path of buffoonery. Really? Some white, corporate business assholes came together and geniusly came up with a way to trick young, black recording artists to shuck and jive for the year 2009? That seems like an awful leap to make between genius manipulators and actually just feeding into the public demand. Black and white alike dig into these styles of songs. Go ahead. Ask a teenager of any color and I bet you they know a few Soulja Boy songs. And while they got plenty of corporate backing it wasn't the master mental stroke of a corporation telling him to "Superman that Ho."
Maybe the extreme points of the video did exactly what they aimed to while also being a sketch that will be funny to some people. To make people look and watch and think and write bout it and spread it throughout the media underworld. It did it's job on that end. The blame for this current mutation of hip hop is spread to a lot of people. Producers, writers, artists, and businessmen alike all are profiting from the next dance craze track that hits and make for future goofy YouTube videos. Some of my initial reactions on first viewing? Good thing three black guys did this in a sketch humor attempt cause if it had been some fairly famous white guys attempting the same exact video it would be a whole different story for some people. Mind you, the points are still exactly the same and I'm not really sitting here and arguing for the rights of equal ability to do race-based conversations or humor. Also, any portrayal that these young artists are being taken advantage of or slaved out for the sake of entertainment is just wrong. "Masta is coming" isn't exactly spoofing the artists or their struggle to get known and get on with the business of making music and hits and money. I have given plenty of money to non-label connected hip hop artists who produce good records and find a way through the technologically advance world to sell their products. Go look up Atmosphere (two white guys) and Joe Budden (black guy). True hip hop artists who make money without corporate help who don't worry if they can jump on the auto-tune bandwagon or come up with a new simplistic dance hip hop track.
For me, taking this sketch too literally just means you don't know the whole story behind it all. On the other hand, taking it too lightly probably means you are some of the large contingency that celebrates generic, goofy pop songs. The sketch has merits and faults. I know the people involved are legitimate fans of hip hop, so it comes from a place of love while trying to take a stand against what's become of the genre they live for. But, they also should know that they don't make anything for the kind of audience that is buying up this 2009 fad version of hip hop. What this is setting up for is the backlash. The Death of Autotune and the dance track featuring some goofy comedian doing the dance as an entire record label gets on the track ala Wu-Tang Clan. And I apologize profusely to the Wu-Tang Clan for ever having their name anywhere close to this fad hop music. 36 Chambers is still that classic shit. Forever. Hip hop will never need saving from it's current pop version cause it will never get overrun by it. Mixtapes will survive. Jay-Z, NAS, Fabolous, Eminem, Slaughterhouse, Atmosphere and on and on will make sure that no matter how many people love "turn my swag on", it will not annihilator true hip hop. I guess in the end I will laugh at the YouTube video cause it's pretty ridiculous how far they think hip hop may go if left in it's current hands. I'll laugh cause I agree on some level that hip hop doesn't have to be about entertaining anyone with some absurd dance. I'll understand the point of it all and think they probably didn't have to go that far for the sake of a joke or making a PSA, mock not withstanding. It's whatever and now I just pass it on and say give it a look and expose yourself to something that may be outside your comfort level.
See ya when I see ya
Talk to ya when I talk to ya. :)
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Yep
I know what I want, but I don't know how to get paid for it. :) I'm gonna try this for a minute. I'm gonna wake up fresh every morning and sit in front of this magic box and publish my nonsense. I guess you could say I'm an amateur columnist/opinion writer. I can't write articles cause my writing isn't precise and factually sound. I am also not so into myself that I write just about myself. Guess this is all about my POV and theories and philosophies. Mostly this is about putting in 2-3 hours of work in the morning and lolligagging the rest of the day. Mine is not an original dream.
This is the part where I was suppose to go on and on about something of substance. Instead, I am awake too early cause my doggy friend Larry decided it was potty time and that it was his turn to sleep on my bed. Guess I forgot to establish that whole dog/owner relationship. Plus, I had a late night coming back from The City Monday night. OOOOOOH okay wait got one.
This part is just about me, so forget how I prefaced some of this BS. Why am I not scared right now? I got a vehicle that is basically gonna always need to be fixed 2 times a year. I'm sitting round waiting for unemployment and my 401K to help push me through after my final paycheck dwindles down to nothing. I haven't bothered checking out any available jobs in the area since my July 6th termination date. I'm weeks away from zero and all I can do is download some new music and buy me some discounted polos. This moment right here is exactly why I needed to be fired.
I have unreasonable comfort levels in my life. I am elitist in a way, cause I react the same way to certain behaviors. Why do I feel as if I have to be joke guy every time I hear or read about someone else's goofy moment? I've been catching myself lately, which is actually shocking. Rather than hit send on my lil comments I just think them to myself and wonder if I'm actually contributing or just being a douchebag. It's usually the latter. That would be a good idea for the title of my daily columns, but it would limit my readership right away. "Tales from a douchebag."
I think I have a lil bit of the internet virus called "phony brave" in me built from 10+ years solid of being online posting various forms of writings in the pursuit of entertainment. It's dangerous and freeing to unleash, but also exposes you as a keyboard coward. At the same time, if you have had the pleasure of talking to me in person, on the phone and via computer chat I would be willing to bet that I come off a lot better through a computer screen. Not sure why, but somehow I manage to express myself so much better with the help of a spellcheck.
Ummmm okay since this isn't professionally monitored and I am sorely lacking in the free flowing department considering I stared at the last paragraph for the last 5 minutes I am gonna abort the rest of the posting. Got Krispy Kremes, Robert Kelly and Harry Potter on the mind. And that is why I need to find focus. Daydreaming bout donuts, comedians and movies is not very responsible or lucrative. But if it is, ooooooh BOY!
I will see ya when I see ya.
I will talk to ya when I talk to ya.
This is the part where I was suppose to go on and on about something of substance. Instead, I am awake too early cause my doggy friend Larry decided it was potty time and that it was his turn to sleep on my bed. Guess I forgot to establish that whole dog/owner relationship. Plus, I had a late night coming back from The City Monday night. OOOOOOH okay wait got one.
This part is just about me, so forget how I prefaced some of this BS. Why am I not scared right now? I got a vehicle that is basically gonna always need to be fixed 2 times a year. I'm sitting round waiting for unemployment and my 401K to help push me through after my final paycheck dwindles down to nothing. I haven't bothered checking out any available jobs in the area since my July 6th termination date. I'm weeks away from zero and all I can do is download some new music and buy me some discounted polos. This moment right here is exactly why I needed to be fired.
I have unreasonable comfort levels in my life. I am elitist in a way, cause I react the same way to certain behaviors. Why do I feel as if I have to be joke guy every time I hear or read about someone else's goofy moment? I've been catching myself lately, which is actually shocking. Rather than hit send on my lil comments I just think them to myself and wonder if I'm actually contributing or just being a douchebag. It's usually the latter. That would be a good idea for the title of my daily columns, but it would limit my readership right away. "Tales from a douchebag."
I think I have a lil bit of the internet virus called "phony brave" in me built from 10+ years solid of being online posting various forms of writings in the pursuit of entertainment. It's dangerous and freeing to unleash, but also exposes you as a keyboard coward. At the same time, if you have had the pleasure of talking to me in person, on the phone and via computer chat I would be willing to bet that I come off a lot better through a computer screen. Not sure why, but somehow I manage to express myself so much better with the help of a spellcheck.
Ummmm okay since this isn't professionally monitored and I am sorely lacking in the free flowing department considering I stared at the last paragraph for the last 5 minutes I am gonna abort the rest of the posting. Got Krispy Kremes, Robert Kelly and Harry Potter on the mind. And that is why I need to find focus. Daydreaming bout donuts, comedians and movies is not very responsible or lucrative. But if it is, ooooooh BOY!
I will see ya when I see ya.
I will talk to ya when I talk to ya.
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