Thursday, April 08, 2010

I would like to apologize this morning to Jonathan Capehart. For those of you who don't know who Mr. Capehart is, he sometimes appears on Bill Maher and MSNBC, but his main gig is as a editorial writer for the Washington Post. He is also openly gay..the importance of that will come later.

So while I'm walking to work, I see Mr. Capeheart in front of me. He's close enough that if I slightly raised my voice (which would never happen) he could hear me calling him, but far enough away that I couldn't catch up to him with my normal gait. I dig his work, and I wanted to tell him as much, so I picked up the pace and tried to catch up to him. He was waiting to cross the street, and I had to cross the street to get to him. My plan was to shake his hand, meet him, give off non-gay vibes just in case he thought I was putting a rush on him, and have a brief conversation.

What I did NOT expect at all, was for Mr. Capeheart to be walking so damn fast. This man had the fastest, most efficient walk I have ever seen in my life, and he was able to generate this speed without using his arms at all. He had a copy of the newspaper nestled under his armpit, and his other arm was straight down. For him to be moving this fast was not only baffling, but it was frustrating as hell, because I usually walk slow. So now I was debating on whether to fast walk, jog, or say f**k it and hope to see him another day. I chose something between a fast walk and a jog, and I used my arms. God help me if anyone caught this moment on tape..

So as I was getting closer to Mr. Capeheart, I noticed he looked back at me twice. The first time was just a casual glance, but the second time, I put my hand up to get his attention, and he looked at me like I was selling the Final Call and he picked up even more speed to his walk. At this point I really did want to yell out and say, "Look man, I'm just trying to talk and meet you!", but even typing that sounds a little suspect. So I just let him go. He looked back one more time, but by that point, I had already given up on an introduction.

So Mr. Capeheart, if you google your name everyday like I do, and you find out that I talked about you on my blog this morning, know that I wasn't trying to get in your drawers, or eat your liver with fava beans and nice chianti, I just wanted to say hello, let you know I appreciate your work, and give you my resume so you can get me a paying writing job. That's not so difficult is it?

By the way, I LOVE the new Tiger commercial (I attached it yesterday). I know people think its creepy and it is. I know folks think he's exploiting the memory of his (and he might be), but the important part to me is this: At some point, when Tiger was in the shower, or up alone at night, his father's words played over and over in his head. When you have a father like Tiger did, you can't help it. I know my father is alive, and when I f**k up, I hear my father's voice in question form all the damn time. No one is kicking down my door to make a Nike commercial, but they are for Tiger, and this is the route he and Nike chose. I'm ok with that..


£ said...

I was really hoping this story would have the optimal resolution: you meeting Mr. Capeheart. I say he missed out.

lol @ him walking fast withOUT moving his arms. How does that work? He must be a superhero.

btw, I now have a hannibal lecter/stephanie mills mashup happening in my brain. lol

Sab D said...

Man, I hear my old dude's voice when I make a mistake too. Except he sounds like Bill Duke in Menace II Society when he says "you know you done f***ed up now". Amazing how the phrase brings instant clarity!

Janelle said...

When you finally meet him (and I have faith you will), can you ask him how he walks that fast without moving his arms??

You hear your dad's voice when you f*ck up, I see my mom's "look" when I f*ck up. I don't know which is worse though.

Btw, love the stephanie mills song. Whatever happened to her??

spirit_55 said...