This is a video from an artist my brother manages. Please leave feedback on the youtube page, here on my blog, or just ignore it and go to hell.

Disclaimer: I usually don't do things like this, but considering i have a lot on my mind, and I've struggled with blogging on a consistent basis, I figured now was the time to do something like this. And if you get mad, thank my blogger friend, the notorious k.i.m. for planting the idea in my head.

Wait one more thing..my unborn son received his first gift via mail yesterday. One of my wife's college friends sent us a giant stuffed dog. Our child will be scared of the damn dog or at least two years--that's assuming of course that I don't accidentally maim, destroy and try to do X-rated things to that stuffed animal in the process. What the hell kind of gift is that for an infant anyway? If I wanted my infant child to have a giant gift like that, I'd introduce him to my wife's body pillow.

Anyway..on with the corny portion of the blog:


The A-Z's of Me (Rashad)

A. Age: 36.

B. Bed size: - Queen (although this body pillow is really making the case for a King)

C. Chore that you hate: Cleaning the bathroom. If I take the time to dirty it up, someone should be nice enough to clean it up for me.

D. Dogs: I don't have one, but when that changes, I'll have a black lab retriever

E. Essential start to your day: ESPN and a Venti Soy Green Tea Latte Unsweetened

F. Favorite color: Philadelphia Eagles green

G. Gold or Silver: This is the first dumbass question of the group, and I'm not answering this

H. Height: 5'9" or one inch taller than my brother says he is. Either answer will do.

I. Instruments you play: trumpet. I played from 1984-1991, and then I retired because I made the basketball team as a high school junior and I wanted to be "cool", and I thought the trumpet was holding me back. I was wrong.

J. Job title: Trainer/Analyst/Sportswriter/importer-exporter

K. Kids: A 14 year old son and a baby boy scheduled to arrive on 1/5/12

L. Live: Washington DC

M. Mother’s name: Marilyn

N. Nicknames: One of my boys from high school used to call me Shad Shotty (yes he was straight). My high school basketball coach used to call me "Flash" because I was so quick. Both of these names suck big time ass I know

O. Overnight hospital stays: Only when my wife had surgery

P. Pet peeves: People who feel the need to talk to me in the elevator, people who say "swag" and "whatever" all the time, and jackasses who text and walk into me.

Q. Quote from a movie: From the Departed: Marriage is an important part of getting ahead: lets people know you're not a homo; married guy seems more stable; people see the ring, they think at least somebody can stand the son of a bitch; ladies see the ring, they know immediately you must have some cash or your cock must work.

R. Right or left handed: Left

S. Siblings: My brother Jamal who is three years younger than I am. This is a great time to add that he tried blogging for three months, and then he gave up..

T: Time you wake up: 5:26am

U. Underwear: Boxer briefs Monday-Thursday, Commando Fri-Sun (except if I go to church, then I'm back to briefs..but I've been to church twice in 4 years)

V. Vegetable you hate: Cauliflower. They look like pieces of broccoli who didn't make the cut, and they taste plain no matter how much you season them

W. What makes you run late: trying to get a quickie or a jerk before work

X. X-Rays you’ve had: My back

Y. Yummy food that you make: Salmon and asparagus and pancakes--yes pancakes.

Z. Zoo animal: I'm a big fan animals like birds and squirrels who really don't have to be in the zoo, because they can roll out at any time, but they choose to be among their captured friends. That's character baby.


I promise to never do this again.

This past Saturday, my wife and I decided to sit down and watch Michael Jackson's This Is It with my mother who had never seen it before. I take time to watch this movie at least once a month, and I've seen it over 20 times already, so I certainly had no qualms about yet another viewing for my precious mother. In fact, I get a big kick out of watching it with someone who has never seen it, so I can a) see their reaction b)watch their amazement over how spry MJ looked and c)watch them fall in love with his music all over again.

About 20 minutes into the movie, my mother looks at me and says, "This man was a phenomenon. He was relevant in five decades, and we will never see anyone like him", and I agreed with her 100%. Another hour passed, and eventually my mother had to go, and I turned the movie off, and I found myself amazed at MJ even after the 21st viewing of the movie. Aside from all the other disappointment I felt when he died, I was most disappointed that I missed out on seeing him in concert a second time. I saw him when he came to Maryland back in '88, and I would have liked to see him as a adult--but he had to die on me..how dare he?

So basically what I've been trying to say for two paragraphs and change, is that MJ--even after being dead for 2 years--still has superhero status to me. I know he had flaws and imperfections like the rest of us (present company excluded of course), but he made and produced great music, and I was on his jock as a result. So imagine my shock and surprise when I walked in the door today, and the news shows his dead body as part of their MJ trial coverage. I was disgusted and creeped out at seeing a lifeless, pale MJ on a hospital bed. Why show that to anyone except for the people in the courtroom? Why have a televised trial at all? Why couldn't they have a closed-to-the-public trial, so that our only images from the trial could be those inaccurate creepy courtroom sketches that we've all come to know and love? And why must I now attempt to get some sleep with images of dead MJ floating around my head?

It ain't right.

Anyway, I just found out that MJ sang background on the Doobie Brothers song, "What A Fool Believes"..listen closely

I went to the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial this morning with my wife, my mother and one of her friends who was attending the Congressional Black Caucus conference with her. My wife and I got there first and two minutes later my mother and her friend joined us. Two minutes after that, after my mother's friend (I think her name was Tasha) and I introduced ourselves to one another, we had the following banter:

Her: You should all stand in front of the memorial and take a picture
Me: No I'm good
Her: Why not?
Me: I just think its kind of corny to take a picture in front of the memorial, I just want to be in the moment
Her: Really? You don't want a family picture? Wow..ok.. (and then she rolled her eyes and walked off

Now, because this woman works with my mother, I did not curse her the f**k out and get indignant with her, but I was awfully close. I then told my mother that I probably was not verbalizing my feelings about not wanting the pictures properly, but I meant what I said.

There were all kinds of people posing around the MLK statue. Some were throwing up their sorority signs, some were standing by some of the quotes that were etched in walls, and it just looked juvenile and corny--but perhaps I am being too hard on folks. I think the MLK memorial should be about reflecting, thinking, teaching, crying (like my mother did) or just flat out being awe-inspired about this man's life. It is called being in the moment, and I just don't think the photographers and the posers were doing that and it annoyed me..and so did my mother's friend who rolled her eyes.

After she walked away, my mother, my wife and I walked around to each one of MLK's quotes and soaked up the moment. My mother reflected a bit and starting crying initially, then she talked to us about the greatness of MLK, the sadness she felt that he didn't get to finish his work, and the amazement she felt that he accomplished so much before he was killed at 39. I won't capture the full moment here, but it was awesome. And not one picture was needed. I highly recommend you attend

Now what I DID take a picture of was the copy of the May 1986 Sports Illustrated I bought on the way home. My second favorite player ever was on the cover (James Worthy, Kareem was my all time fave), and I remember putting this up on my wall. Good times.

Vesta


Lalah's version

I usually try to keep my personal complaints to a minimum, but right about now I am extremely stressed. I'm a government contractor, my contract expires on 9/30/11, and I have yet to receive the job offer that will allow me to keep working on October 1st. I have two basketball-related articles I should be writing, but my work days are so damn busy and arduous, that by the time I get home, I feel like drinking wine, feeling the baby move in my wife's stomach, and then getting in the bed for my customary 4 hours of sleep. Shall I go on?

My mother is staying with me this week, and she can't parallel park worth a goddamn, I'm stressed about money as it relates to the baby, and my wife sleeps with a body pillow. Let me repeat, my wife sleeps with a damn body pillow because it helps pregnant women sleep. Every time I roll over, the body pillow is there, and its the equivalent of being in the bed with a midget. Part of me feels like a threesome could jump off at any moment, and part of me wants to kick that pillow out of the window--especially since I have accidentally dry humped it on a few occasions.

I haven't even mentioned that Michael Vick got hurt and the Eagles lost last week. That's all for now..And now, so that I don't end on a low note, I will link to the smooth sounds of Kurt Elling..

My wife took this picture of me two weeks ago while I was conducting not one, but two fantasy football drafts. I had my netbook, my laptop, and her laptop at my disposal, along with a fine bottle of red wine. I was focused, I was tipsy, and I was using insane amounts of electricity!

First off, let me shout out my landlord who typed the sentence, "I conquer with Rashad", instead of saying "I concur". And secondly let me send a hello the the man who used the word "affidavis", instead of saying "affidavit". I need those laughs to get me through some days.

Anyway, I had to do a presentation for my job yesterday, which required me to speak in front of about 50 people, and in the few days leading up to it I was absolutely terrified. Just a few years ago, I had a job with HUD that required me speak in front of 200-500 people at least twice a month, and although I would be nervous as hell every time, I started to accomplish these tasks with relative ease. I used to both teach and substitute teach, and that required me to get in front of kids, and I never got nervous for them because a)they are f**king kids and b)they were depending on me in a way adults never really do. I felt like there was no room to be nervous, because I had to deliver in a major way.

I actually had to deliver in a major way during yesterday's presentation as well, but the nerves were strong. I had to speak in front of colleagues, paralegals, attorneys, bosses and their bosses. I woke up at 3am before my speech, and I practiced countless times, and I would get nervous, I'd start shaking, and I'd get the foam (an old Cosby show joke). Every time I practiced, I would present my information in a different way, or I would leave a bullet point off of the notes I'd prepared for my PowerPoint presentation, or I would just flat out skip over something thinking that I'd get it right when the time counted. I know people say that you only get nervous when you're not prepared, but that's bullshit. You get nervous when you are taken out of your comfort zone for whatever reason, and I was going to be violently ripped from mine once that speech was to begin.

Well the speech began and I was nervous, sweating like a black man at a white woman's funeral, and I wasn't speaking as loudly as I would have liked (luckily I had prepared for this occasion, and I asked the guy who was in charge of the training room to mic me up just in case. When someone said they couldn't hear me, I mic'd myself up, and I was ready to roll baby). After awhile my ego kicked in, and I realized that I was in front of these people for a reason, and there was a job to be done. I did my little 10-15 minutes worth of a presentation, I fielded questions, I cracked jokes, I spotted dimes and I ate onions.

So I say all that to say, now that I'm done with that, I can get back to writing now, without that damn presentation hanging over my head like that black cloud that followed Nas.

I'd ask that you read the ESPN article I had the pleasure of being a part of yesterday. For the longest time, I was doing this type of basketball writing for free, but now thanks to the good folks at ESPN, I get paid per article. I would like to thank all of the generous people who helped make this possible like my main man, and current editor Kyle, and my former editor Ryan who got me started four years ago. It has been quite a journey, and it is not over yet--hopefully it is just beginning (sorry for the corny cliche').

The ESPN article I helped write yesterday

I got hit in the ribs this morning with an umbrella by an old lady (I'd say she was about 55-60). I was getting ready to cross the street, and she was coming down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, but she could not cross the street because she had "Do Not Walk" sign. Had she been looking up and not texting, she would have seen me coming, but that was not the case. I slowed down my gait a bit so I could walk behind her, but then she abruptly stopped so she could answer her phone, and I ran right into her. I said I was sorry, but she instantly assumed I was trying to touch her inappropriately:


Me: I'm sorry ma'am, I wasn't expecting you to stop so suddenly
Her: Were you trying to touch my ass?
Me: Why would I do that, I'm trying to get to work?
Her: I'm a lady have some respect (pulls out her umbrella)
Me: Ma'am you were on your phone and you weren't paying attention
Her: So that gives you the right to brush up against me? (she hit me once with her umbrella..and it wasn't a little umbrella either)
Me (trying not to laugh): Ma'am please don't hit me, I said I was sorry, now I'm leaving
Her: You better walk away (she took one more swing, but I caught the umbrella in my hand).

I can think of two or three women 55 or older, who I would openly grope, but this woman was not on that list. And as funny as the situation was, I could have been in quite the situation had law enforcement been around. So thanks old lady!

My son starts high school today, and I'm so damn proud of him. He was here this weekend and we had all the talks (sex, academic, how to carry yourself, women), so I think he's ready..but we'll see.