Tuesday, January 19, 2016

First - Read my latest article right here.

Second - Go read this blog post from my main man Sabin about Rakim Allah

Third - Listen to my wife's podcast about the Bachelor right chea. I'm not a fan of the Bachelor but she is, so I'm supporting her, not the show. I may or may not have used the phrase "dumb bi**h" 5 or 6 times while watching that show. Misogynist? Hell yes. Off base? Not at all.


There are positives and negatives to having a birthday in the month of January. It is far enough away from Christmas that people actually feel like gift-giving again, plus most folks have had two paychecks since they last Christmas shopped so the money and gifts floweth. Not to mention, the NFL playoffs are always in full swing around this time of year, which just kicks the party possibilities up 10 to 20 notches. Also, if I never mentioned this before, I share a birthday with Questlove--he gave me birthday shoutout on Twitter a few years ago.


But the bad part about having a January birthday is the weather always finds a way to upstage my big day. When I was younger, way before this global warming concept came to fruition, Januarys--whether I lived in Cleveland, Detroit, Connecticut or Maryland--were filled with snow and bitter cold. I can remember several birthdays when I would make plans to throw parties, then I'd look at the weather and my parents would forewarn me that it wasn't going to happen for me. Then my birthday--or the day of the week we chose to celebrate my big day--would come and go and I'd have no party. Yes my parents, my brother, sometimes girlfriends, did their very best to make me feel special despite my abandoned plans, but I'd still feel sad.

One year the plan was to invite 10-12 of my friends over to my house for a big football game in the snow. The weather called for like 5-7 inches of snow, which was far from crippling, and I just knew that we would still be able to play a game. Instead, we got closer to 20 inches, and nobody's parent would let them out of the house to play football with me. I remember not even wanting to watch the playoffs on Tv..I was just that devastated.

This year, I don't have a party or anything fancy planned, but my wife and I plan to send the kid to his grandparents house for the weekend. There is dinner, happy hour and brunch with mimosas planned, as well gifts and just the freedom that comes with being able to act like an irresponsible adult sans the presence of a child. I've been looking forward to this weekend all year, and then a couple days ago I get word that the worst snowstorm of all time threatens to descend on my house this weekend.

The storm is scheduled to start on Friday--which is when we were going to take my son to his grandfather's house, and last until Sunday. The lowest snow total I've heard is 8 inches and the highest total I've heard is two feet. Keep in mind, I live in Washington DC, where 3 inches of snow sends everyone to the grocery and liquor stores. I am not a happy camper right now. Not only are my birthday plans in peril but I may have to spend a three to four day weekend stuck in the house with a 4-year old hellion who will surely have a severe case of cabin fever, no matter how creative mommy and daddy get with devising activities for him. Scary, scary stuff.

I realize there are bigger problems to worry about like the Fresh Prince cast beefing about Oscars, Palin and Trump linking up, and Flint, Michigan's dearth of a clean water, but my birthday is important too right? Actually let me get serious, that Flint situation is a)terrible and b) not going away anytime soon. As one of my writer friends said, it feels like the 2016 version of the Tuskegee Experiment..

But I digress. My birthday is tomorrow, I'll take my head out of the clouds after that. By the way, the lyrics to this song are elementary, but I always thought the beat was hardcore...



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