It is confession time..

I'll admit that part of me was a bit fearful of both the short and long term effects of a government shutdown. I do a decent job of saving my money and all that, but these things can get tricky, and a one week shutdown could lead to two, three and beyond. Plus I am contractor, so when government money gets tight, they are quick to downsize, get rid of us, and plug in another government worker. So I won't say I was panicking or anything, but I was definitely paying attention to what the House and Senate leaders were saying on a day-to-day basis. I'm really hoping that are pro-active in finding another resolution beyond this two-week one they just agreed to, but if its anything like NFL and NBA labor conflicts, they will definitely wait until the very last minute...BUT

Part of me was happy that a government shutdown was (and maybe still) on the horizon. I wanted at least a week off from my regular job, and I wanted to see the type and volume of writing I could do without the "burden" of a 9 to 5. I wanted to cover a Wizards practice, write about a random NBA game, take the time to sit down and analyze patterns, trends, statistics, other authors, re-examine my own writing, etc. Its tough to do that, work my job, do personal things, and be a father and a husband all at the same time. But if I were to temporarily remove my job from the equation, I could do a dry run on a trial basis.

Of course if I had accrued a little more wealth, I'd quit my job and just do this full-time, but I'm not there just yet. Plus this is very selfish of me, because there are some people who would really be crippled by a government shutdown, and they would not give a damn about all the good things I was able to accomplish on the writing front, and nor should they be. But I'm rooting for a one-week shutdown, so if you're reading this and this angers, I extend you my sincerest apologies, but I invite to read my work while you're sitting at home that week. I predict big things.

Thanks to my mother-in-law for sending me this video:

Tyson vs McGee

About once a month or so, the wife and I get our groceries delivered from the good folks at Peapod. I certainly understand how the joys of walking up and down a grocery store aisle can be a fun experience for certain couple, but wife and I can't stand it. The crowds are annoying, the checkout lines are more annoying, and when we do these things online, everyone wins. We get certain groceries via Peapod, and the rest from the Farmer's Market that's right down the street from our house every Sunday morning.

So this morning the delivery guy from Peapod showed up around 1pm today and delivered all of my groceries, except for a 24-pack of Deer Park Water. The delivery guy explained to me that he had forgotten it at the store, and I told it was no big deal at all. He gave me all the bags from the truck, gave me the sheet to sign, and then he hesitated a bit, and then we proceeded to have the following conversation:

Him (pointing at the sheet): Usually people leave a tip or something on this line for the drivers, you don't want to leave anything for me today?

Me: No I'm good

Him: Oh ok, well you have a great day

Me: You too buddy

Now..I'm not a mean guy and I'm generally pretty forthcoming with tips, when I feel someone has gone above and beyond the call of duty. But when you announce that you have forgotten a part of my grocery order(I need my water, especially after I workout in the morning) and then on top of that, you openly lobby for a tip, I think that's way out of line. If he had offered to re-deliver the water a later date, that would have gotten me excited to tip..but no such thing happened.

So was I wrong?

Pretenders to Contenders

If you haven't noticed, I'm slowly transitioning this blog from a personal diary to a less personal one full of links, articles and whimsy of course. I am fully aware that my readers will dwindle from five to three, but I can't just keep spilling my feelings all the time. I also must say that I've threatened to do this many times during my 5 years of blogging, so I am to be ignored when I say this.

The Wizards Sing the Blues

Every now and then I see or hear something, that reminds of my grandmother who passed seven years ago, and last night it was seeing the legendary Hank Aaron on David Letterman. Aaron is from Mobile, Alabama, and my grandmother was from Sylacauga, Alabama, but their mannerisms, jokes, their laughs, and even the way they tell stories is virtually identical. And even though Aaron's video made me laugh several times, I still was missing (and appreciating) my grandmother. I wish I could have appreciated her pound cake a few more times..especially since she never wrote that damn recipe down for anyone. But I digress...here's the interview:

TBJ LA: Scent of an All-Star from The Basketball Jones on Vimeo.

So yesterday while I was on the plane, I finally saw the movie, "Notes on a Scandal". The movie is basically about a 30 something teacher who has an affair with her 15 year old student..although there's also another plot that involves an older woman and her obsession with getting close to the teacher. Needless to say, the older teacher, younger woman plot really intrigued me.

I don't remember crossing paths with a single, solitary attractive teacher between kindergarten and 12th grade. I remember Mrs. Lynch, my science teacher, had really big breasts that you could see because of how the buttons on her shirt were situated, but she was not attractive. There was another teacher of mine whose name escapes me, who had a big ass and she wore tight pants, but again her face was less than stellar. Where were these attractive, pervy, emotionally-disturbed teachers who wanted to give my young ass a little trim? Why couldn't I be so lucky? I'm hearing more and more stories about older teachers and younger students, and I'm increasingly resentful no such thing happened to me.

When I was doing my student teaching I noticed some attractive girls, but I never once thought of going there, even though they were only a few years younger. I valued my future as a teacher, and I didn't want to have a solitary blemish on my record. Plus so many of my students lived in my neighborhood, so I didn't want things to get complicated. Plus no one wants to admit it, but it is WAY creepier for an older male teacher to talk to one of his young, female students...such a sad double standard.

I wonder how I would react if my son told me that he got down with an older female teacher? I know how I'd react if I had a daughter and she told me about a male teacher..I'm going to stop now, because I think I have become a Chris Hansen target..

But seriously, if you have some free time, rent "Notes on a Scandal"..its worth sitting through the uncomfortable scenes

Something funny happened after the All-Star game last night...

First let me send a special shoutout to my main man Sabin who caught the fact that I put an incorrect link in my post yesterday. Its good to know that someone is indeed reading what the hell I'm writing. Second, I do believe this is the first ever blog post I've done from an airplane, which is very cool (in my book at least). I'm currently 20 minutes into my flight from Los Angeles to St. Louis, where I will catch a connecting flight back home to DC. Everyone around me is sleep and snoring, and I'm tired enough to do the same, but the thrill of mid-air, mid-flight blogging is way too enticing to pass up..

Last night's All-Star game was kind of boring, but I did meet more interesting people in the bowels of the Staples Center. I met Chris Tucker, Rhianna, Drake (when I say I met Drake, I gave him a head nod and kept it moving..I'm not a fan) and LaLa (Carmelo Anthony's wife). If I attempted to meet these people on the street, they'd probably look at me like I was a stalker, but since media folks and celebrities were all in the same area, it was acceptable for them to talk to me I suppose

I thoroughly enjoyed the experience of both covering basketball and hobnobbing with people who make more money than I can shake a stick at. But I miss my wife, I miss my bed, and I miss my time zone. There's no way in hell I'm going to work tomorrow..
Shoutout to the woman sitting next to me who is sleep, and therefore unable to see the tiny bit of drool that just fell from her lips on to her blanket. Very sexy.

I feel like I'm becoming one of "those" people because I keep telling people about the famous people I met. And then I realize that everyone who knows me should know good and goddamn well that I'm not one of "those" people, I just still get excited about meeting folks you know? I met Lenny Kravitz last night, and I told him how much I liked this song he and Michael Jackson did. I met Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis and told them I've been fans my whole life (not many people knew who the hell they were). I met Justin Beiber, but I'll only admit that to get street cred with younger kids. And if you're interested in a little inside baseball, I met Jackie MacMullan in my hotel elevator..MacMullan is an excellent, award-wining sportswriter, and I was nervous as hell, but I managed to get some words out.

Anyway, that's enough of that bullshit, please read the last two articles I've written, one of which includes a funny run-in with Charles Barkley. Today is my last day here, and then tomorrow I will return to discussing the boring and mildly entertaining, mundane details of my life.

The Skills and Dunk Competition
All-Star Practice

The carefree John Wall resurfaces

John Wall vs Kwame Brown


And yes i'm only posting articles right now

Who's coming with me?

I'm going to the All-Star game in Los Angeles early on Friday morning, and I shall return late to my humble abode late Monday night. I have a lot to do between now and then, and I cannot say I will have time to blog before then. So if you watch any of the festivities on tv, look for me on tv (I was on there last year,check this video for the brother with the green sweater under the basket). If you're going to be in LA, let me know and I can act like I'll hang with you, only to back out on you at the last minute(just kidding, I'll be busy). And if you don't give a good goddamn, then I'm sorry for bringing it up.

I saw and read a lot of hate and resentment about Valentine's Day yesterday, in terms of it being a manufactured holiday, it should celebrated everyday, blah blah blah. I'll admit its really not that big of a deal, but it can be an excuse to plan something fun with your mate (I sound like I'm doing a show on Lifetime right now). The wife and I went bowling for two hours at Lucky Strike (while enjoying wine and sports on the big screen), we exchanged gifts (this was my favorite gift), then I got a hotel across the street from her job so she sleep in, and we drank copious amounts champange(shoutout to the hotel staff who gave us free bottle). It was nothing fancy, just simple, understated and pressure-free. There's nothing wrong with that.

By the way, while I was in Lucky Strike, I went to the restroom to wash my hands, and I waved my hands in front of the sensor on the paper towel dispenser, and out came the towel. And I don't know if it was the wine or what, but for one second, I felt like I using The Force. You may find it routine, but I still find it fascinating that I can wave my hand in front of a sensor, and towels pop up..now if I could only parlay that into actual Force usage, I'd be unstoppable.

I probably shouldn't release all my inner thoughts to the world all the time.

As I have mentioned on this blog numerous times before, I am fighting a losing battle with my son's hair. He wanted to grow it out and wear cornrows, and his mother did nothing to shut that down, and since he lives with her I had to just sit by and let it happen. Up until this point, he had just been growing it out, but when he stepped off the train on Friday night, his hair was fully cornrowed..poorly I might add.

He had just gotten his hair cornrowed on Tuesday, and already it was coming undone--partly because his hair is thin and not really meant for that style and partly because the woman who did his hair did a terrible job. Carlton asked me what I thought about his hair, and I told him I hated it. I explained to him that I loved him, I explained the concept of agreeing to disagree, and then I told him I hated it again. My wife said I hurt his feelings, but I really did not give a damn. To steal a quote from the movie Boiler Room: "I'm not your best friend, here to nod my head and sympathize. That's your mother's racket. I'm your father, I let you know when you f**k up."

But the next morning, we had a long talk and I explained to him that as much as I hated his hair, it was important that he made sure that a)he took care of it and b) it always looked neat. So I took my wife's suggestion, and we went to a women's hair salon to get his hair cornrowed the correct way. Two words: NEVER AGAIN.

First of all, there were about 13 women in there, and they were all in various stages of getting their hair done, which means they were looking evil (and no it wasn't just all in my head they really were looking evil). My son had a look of terror on his face, and I was hoping he didn't look at me for comfort, because I was just as terrified. We got evil looks, everyone stopped talking, and this was before we even got two feet in the door. Finally one of the women remembered me from our earlier phone conversation, and she told me to sit my son down in the chair so he could get his hair washed, blow dried and cornrowed. I was left standing by the door like a damn fool.

Eventually I sat down and decided to watch my son get his hair done, but the discomfort did not stop. It was 100 degrees in that room, the music was loud, the evil looks were plentiful, and oddly enough there was college basketball on tv(it was on before we arrived), but only my son and I were watching. I tried to act like I was texting or watching tv, but each and every time I looked up, there was someone staring at me like I was a white man at a Black Panther rally. I took the hint, grabbed my phone and went outside and got on the phone.

While I was outside the door, I noticed a sign that said cash only, but that was right next to a sign that said AmEx, Visa, Mastercard and Discover, so I was thoroughly confused on how I should pay (I eventually went to get cash). I looked in the door to see how my son was doing, and he had a look of agony on his face, and I started to go in and ask hi if he was ok. Then I saw evil women, and I stayed my ass outside, and gave him a thumbs up sign. He immediately looked away.

Finally my son came out and said he was all done, and I went up the counter to pay. Now my wife had estimated that it would cost about $40-50 to get his hair cornrowed, but I took $100 out of the ATM just in case. But the woman charged me $80 (not including the tip) and I had no real argument against paying that much because a)I've never gotten cornrows, b)I wanted to get the hell out of there and c)I was 100% sure that if I complained, I'd have been jumped by at least 5 out of the 13 women. I think they took advantage of my male naivety though. As we left out, I told my son that he owed me big time for making me sit in the hair salon for an hour. His response? "What about me Daddy, I was uncomfortable too?" Touche' little man. Touche'

I still hate the way it looks, and I still think cornrows are hideous, but he's happy and so is his mother. But I told the both of them that Memorial Day is the deadline. After that he and his 13-year-old head are coming up here to DC, his hair will be uncornrowed, and he will get a low, warm weather haircut. Enough is enough already.

If you have any kind of sports awareness, you know that legendary Utah Jazz coach retired yesterday, after 23 years of coaching. I wrote about it today, and you can read it right here. He was a great coach and from my limited vantage point he is a great man, who unexpectedly retired..I wish him the best of luck.

My latest story

When I was 11 going on 12 and living in Connecticut, I had a little paper route I was in charge of. I had about 15 houses on my route, and it really wasn't all the difficult to do, because we lived on a cul-de-sac at the time, and all of the houses were on one street. I would get up around 6:30 or so before school, pick up the papers that were dropped in front of my house, put them in a satchel, get on my bike, deliver the papers and then get ready for school. I don't remember exactly how much money I made, but I remember it being a big deal for an 11 year old--and I was delivering the papers so early, that I never really had to engage in any small talk. Win-Win.

As the summer of 1986 came closer, I remember begging my parents to attend this basketball camp that was going to be held at the United States Military Academy at West Point, and since so many of my friends were going to be there, I wanted in as well. My parents said yes, and for one week in July, I was going to head to camp. About a week before I left, I asked one of my friends who lived in the neighborhood, if he would deliver the newspapers for me, and he said yes. I called my "boss", I told him that I'd be gone for a week, but I had coverage, and he said it was cool and that allowed me to enjoy my West Point basketball experience without worrying about who was going to get the paper, get the papers.

Unfortunately for me, when I got back from basketball camp, my friend would not give me the paper route back. I guess he enjoyed the little bit of money as I had come to enjoy it, and it wouldn't give it back. My supervisor wasn't obligated to fight for me, because I voluntarily gave it up and legally I had no recourse. I think I asked this dude to give it back to me at least 5 or 6 times, and our parents even talked, but it didn't happen for me. I remember beating his ass after his it was clear I wasn't going to get it back, but even that only helped me feel better temporarily. A year later I moved from Connecticut to Maryland, and I was STILL salty about that.

What made me think about this? This morning while I was on my to the pool, I saw a guy delivering the Washington Post from his car. He just rolled down the windows both on the driver and passenger side, and launched the paper, so that it landed perfectly on each doorstep. I admired his skill and accuracy, but it brought me back to my stolen paper route. So tomorrow I'm carjacking this dude and hijacking his route..its the circle of life.

So this morning I am jogging at a relatively brisk pace in this brisk cold, while listening to EPMD's Crossover. I had to volume up loud enough to I could enjoy it, but not so loud that I couldn't hear cars or someone run up next to me--or so I thought.

I was running down one street in particular, when I felt the presence of someone behind me, and I glanced back, and saw a group of about 4 or 5 runners who were clearly running faster than I was. I moved to the side of the sidewalk in anticipation of them passing me, and then I kept looking forward and running. My plan was to let them pass, and then cross to the other side of the street so I wouldn't have to look at how fast they were running. Clearly this was a group of elite long distance runners and I wanted no parts of them. But the leader of the pack had different ideas, because as he got next to me, he tapped me on my shoulder. Now in my mind, I had fully prepared for this group to run by, so when he touched me, I was legitimately started, and I swung my elbow backwards. I didn't make any contact with this guy, but he did start yelling, "What the f**k?", and eventually all of us stopped running.

The guy explained to me that he was just going to ask if I wanted to run with he and his group, and said no, I apologized to him, and then I explained that when its 6am, and dark outside, touching is not the way to go. Then he told me I needed to calm down, and it was not like we were in a bad neighborhood, and honestly at that point, I wanted to mush backhand him. I apologized to the guy again, and then I crossed the street and resumed my run..but I had questions...

1)Who goes around recruiting runners DURING a run? What kind of sense does that make, or is this a new trend I'm not familiar with?

2) Why would you think its ok to touch someone with headphones while they are running in the dark at 6am? That's how people get punched, elbowed and maimed..he's lucky my aim was bad

3)Was this my fault for having the volume on my ipod up to high? I'm answering my own question there..in the 3 years I've been running, I've never had this happen, and I keep the volume at a relatively low level. I'm blameless here...maybe I shouldn't have thrown an elbow, but hey, I didn't know what was going on..

4)Its not like this is a bad neighborhood? We live in DC, there are bad parts, and there are better parts, but no area is immune to crime--especially at 6am.

Anyway..I shall end this entry with another Kurt Elling hype session. I have sung Mr. Ellling's praises many time on this blog, and I'm pretty sure none of you have taken my advice and bought any of his work, because if you did, I'd have gotten some feedback. I forgive you all for that, because today his new work, entitled, "The Gate" comes out, and I am telling you now that it is a fine piece of work (I bought it last night). He covers a Stevie Wonder song (Golden Lady), a Miles Davis song (Blue in Green), a Herbie Hancock song (Come Running To Me), and a Joe Johnson song (Steppin' Out). It is romantic, melodic, soothing, and I think you should buy it.

So last night I attended Questlove's Super Bowl/Birthday party at a fine establishment that goes by the name of Liv. I usually frown against watching the Super Bowl anywhere but home (especially now that I have my own big screen tv), and I usually DEFINITELY frown against going out on Sunday night when I have to go to work the next day. But I had already bought tickets to this party a long time ago, and the original party date of 1/26 had been postponed due to inclement weather. So my hands were tied...

The first part of the party involved a bunch of folks hanging in the restaurant/lounge area while the Super Bowl was on the big screen. There were some annoying folks here and there, who were loud and clearly knew nothing about football, but for the most part I had a great time. I was rooting for the Packers. I love Mike Tomlin and the way he coaches, but I hate Ben Roethlisberger and some of the other Steelers..they are just so damn smug. So by the Packers winning, I could stick it to them AND Brett Favre who is somewhere pissed that Aaron Rodgers won (despite what he may say publicly).

The second part of the party was in the nightclub area, and this is where the wheels came off. The music Questlove was playing was great, and I appreciate the way he puts plenty of thought behind not only what song he plays, but the songs that come before and after. He's a meticulous music nerd, and I love that about him. But what I DON'T love is how members of the crowd spent more time looking at him and trying to be seen, then they did dancing. He didn't give a flying f**k about anyone but his music, and his girlfriend behind him, yet everyone was dancing, pointing, taking pictures, and trying to be seen...the whole scene was f**king ridiculous.

Then I had this couple by me that was dancing provocatively, off beat and a bit too close to me and the wife. That was more funny than it was annoying, but I still could have done without. There dudes who were travelling in threes looking corny and hungry for female attention. There were women who were more interesting in dancing and talking in a circle, than they were in talking to anyone. And then there were annoying people by the bar, who were blocking people who actually wanted to buy a drink. As I am writing this I realize that I sound like a cranky old man, and that's not what I want to do. The larger point here is that my days of clubbing..even for my main man Questlove, are long gone. I can do jazz clubs, lounges, selected concerts, and occasional bar. A nightclub, particularly on a Sunday night? Those days are over, and I'm ok with that. What I'm not ok with is how out of it and tired I am this morning...

My article on last night's Wizards game

I love babies as much as the next man (not really) but there is a time to show off your baby, and a time to get the hell out of the way. Just now, while I was trying to purchase my drink from Starbucks, a former Starbucks employee showed up with her baby and all hell broke loose. Everyone behind the counter all of a sudden came down with a crippling bout of paralysis, and they stopped working and played with the baby. The baby was slobbering, laughing and talking, and the employees were just losing their damn mind. Meanwhile, there were at least 10-15 people in line waiting to be served, and do you know who was in front of that line? YOURS TRULY.

I patiently waited for 2 minutes while they swung from the baby's young jockstrap, and then I had to say something. Needless to say it did not go well. I told the people behind the counter that I didn't mean to be rude, but I did have to go to work, as did the people behind me. I got mean looks from the mother of the child, the Starbucks employees, and even the baby. But despite the menacing looks, the mother and the baby moved aside, I got served, the line shortened, and all was well. But clearly I cannot go back in that particular Starbucks, because I'm confident they will urinate in all my beverages going forward. Still, I was in the right..Starbucks isn't a nursery, a photography studio, or a meet-and-greet area for children and their parents. It is a place of business, so act accordingly.

And finally I would like to send a shoutout to this anonymous woman:


I absolutely love how you shunned the straps on your backpack, and decided to roll that sh*t around like its a dog on a leash. Its not like the suffix in backpack tells you where it should be placed on anything..Plus the contraption you're dragging the backpack around with is bigger than the damn backpack. Please rectify that. Although I'm sure I deserve to be equally criticized for snapping that picture like a creepy person..

I have nothing of note to contribute to my blog today, but my main man Adrian has a hilarious blog entry about a dog, his new bed and a laptop bag. Click right here to read all about it.

And then after you read that click on my Gilbert Arenas article right here.

The Return of Gilbert F. Arenas

My latest article

Gone are the days when I will compliment a woman on how nice she looks on a given day, only to be made to feel guilty that I don't dish out that comment EVERY day. Nobody looks nice each and every day..you may have one or two work days when everything comes together (hair, makeup and outfit for women; fresh haircut, new outfit for men) and when that happens you absolutely KNOW you're going to get compliments. In fact its not a matter of if you're going to get complimented, but its more of a how-many-will-I-get-today situation. These are also the days when your spouse, girlfriend or boyfriend better notice how good you look, otherwise there will be hell to pay.

Unfortunately, there are more days when you simply look average to below average. Its not like you look like ugly or hideous, but you simply did not feel like taking the necessary time it takes to look notch. You are simply trying to get to work, do your best, and then leave. In fact, if you someone comes up to you and compliments you on days like this, you will give them this incredulous look that says, "Are you f**king kidding me, I look like sh*t!" but all that will come out of your mouth is a quiet thank you. This really isn't hard to figure out.

The only thing I can think of is that when I complimented my co-worker on how nice she looked today, she KNEW she looked good, but she also thought she looked good yesterday (NOPE), and was offended that I only paid my respects today. She overplayed her hand basically, which is why I got a "What was wrong with me yesterday?" question today...

Given that I am an avid sports fan, this is a little embarrassing to admit, but I finally purchased a big, flat screen television this weekend. Its something that I kept saying I would do, but I would always find a reason to spend money on something else I deemed important for me to have. But on Saturday I remedied that issue and and bought me a 46 incher.

After some minor frustrations involving getting the damn box open and not having the right HDMI cords (frustrations that caused my wife to leave the room to avoid my poor attitude), I finally got it up and running about 30 minutes after I started my task (the wife came back and I apologized). It didn't matter whether it was the Wizards game, hockey, golf, bullfighting or stock-car racing, I found myself watching every sport I could get my hands on just to see how it looked in HD. I honestly don't know how I deprived myself of such a wonderful luxury for so long, but I'm glad I fixed it. I was getting all excited at the prospect of watching the Super Bowl in style, and then I remembered I'm going to a Super Bowl party. I think I'm still going to DVR it, just to see how it looks after the fact..

I'd also like to send a special shoutout to the a**hole who had nothing in his hands, yet still found it necessary to use the handicapped button to open the door to my job. There is a 10 second delay in between hitting the button and the door actually opening, and then it takes another 10 seconds for the door to actually open completely. But you stood there all 20 seconds, rather than taking one of your empty hands and opening the f**king door. Meanwhile, I'm carrying my work bag, a Starbucks drink, a banana, and a bagel, and I had already freed a hand in anticipation of having to open the door, only to have to wait for your dumbass. There's a guy named Kevin Laue who is playing major college basketball with one hand, and here you are with two hands waiting for a button designed for wheelchair folks. You're a class act buddy.

Don't You Get So Mad - Jeffrey Osborne

The Super Bowl is not until next weekend, which means you have some time to come up for air from sports, and watch some Oscar-nominated movies. If you choose to do such a thing this weekend, I highly recommend Barney's Version, which I saw last night. The cast includes Paul Giamatti, Dustin Hoffman and Minnie Driver just to name a few, and it is an excellent movie. I won't give away anything, but I will say that it will make you laugh, it'll make you cry, and it will definitely make you think about you and your loved ones. That is as revealing as I can be without spoiling everything for you.

Next on my list? The Fighter.

My latest article

My mother is 59 today, my dad turned 60 back in August, I have a 13 year old son, and I have obtained 5 gray hairs this year alone (4 on my head). I need to go play some basketball or something to prove to myself that I am a young 36 year old, because on THIS particular day, I feel old(er). In the meantime, I will do the orange shirt guy dance at my desk to make me feel 10 years old again..what is the oraange shirt guy dance you may ask? Check the video below and look for the guy in the orange shirt..and a shoutout to my wife who randomly did the green-shirt-running-man dance in our living room on Monday night.

I have mentioned several times before (but not recently) that I workout at the Jewish Community Center in Washington DC. It is close to my house, they have lots of good programs there in addition to their stellar workout facilities, and it rarely gets crowded like the traditional gym. If I were to breakdown my usage of the JCC, I'd say 90% of the time I swim, 5% of the time I play basketball, and the other 5% of my time is spent doing yoga or fitness center--but its the pool that keeps me going there and playing the inflated membership fee.

Now usually I do my working out in the morning, but the cold weather has kept my ass planted in the bed, so yesterday I went to swim after work. As I walked into the JCC, I saw a gentleman that I knew in the lobby. He works with me at the Department of Justice, and while I won't say we are best friends, our paths used to cross a lot more a few years ago, so we still speak. This was the first time I had seen him at the JCC, and the conversation went as follows:

Him: Hey what's going on dude? You work out here
Me: Hey man what's up? Yeah I've been coming here since Jan of 2009
Him: Sweet man, Yeah I just lifted weights a bit, trying to keep my new year's resolution alive you know?
Me: I hear that man
Him: Are you here to play basketball?
Me: (hesitating a bit): Uh no, I'm here to swim for about 30-40 minutes
Him: Oh ok man cool, you know I've never been swimming here.

Now there was 30-45 more seconds of b.s. conversation, and we finally parted ways. I didn't know whether I should be offended at his basketball comment, or to just categorize it as harmless and not dwell on it. I chose the latter, I changed clothes, I hit the pool for 30 minutes, I showered, and then I got dressed.

As I stood in the mirror brushing my hair, I saw someone else I know coming out of the shower. I have actually seen this person at the JCC before (mainly in passing in the lobby), but I've also seen him around my neighborhood as well. I just said what's up to him, because he was in a towel, and talking to another man in that state violates my own personal man code. But he proceeded to be a bit chatty, so I had to give him at least a minute of my time:

Him: What's going on dude? Long time no see
Me: Yeah I usually try to workout in the morning, but I was too lazy
Him: Mornings? Really? I do mine after work, it helps me sleep better at night
Me: Maybe I should try that
Him: So were you up here playing basketball?
Me: (trying not to laugh at this point): No I just went swimming
Him: Oh ok, sounds good

Again, more b.s. conversation followed, but I can't remember what it was, but I do know it didn't last very long. I had a dinner date with my wife, and I left out and focused on that. But not before thinking that I had been the victim of some bullshit, borderline racial profiling. I mean everyone who works out at the damn JCC knows that on Mondays there is no pickup basketball. There is Krav Maga from 6-7:30, and then there are basketball leagues played from 7:30-10pm. I ran into the first dude I know at 6pm, which means he had to walk by the gym as he left, so he KNEW there was no basketball. The second guy I saw in the locker room I saw around 6:45, and he had just finished working out in the fitness center, which means he too walked by the gym and saw Krav Maga class. So why the hell would they both ask me about basketball? I'll tell you why...its the knee jerk "Oh the brother must be here to play ball".

Now I am quite sure I can run into both guys again this week, but I don't trust myself to be a class act about these things, so I won't. But perhaps next week I will allow myself to run into them, and I'll say something edgy, smart with a splash of sarcasm. I haven't decided yet..

Anyway, if you have 55 minutes to spare, check out the Stevie Wonder video below, its pretty good stuff

I know I'm posting a lot of videos lately, and I know this one is long, but do YOU know how awesome this is:

I know everyone has seen this by now, but I still think its hilarious, and I admire both parties for having a sense of humor about it all. Me? I think I'd have gone Denny Green on the guy:

My latest article

The movie came out in 1976, and I have been hearing about since 1990, but yesterday morning in 2011, I finally saw All The President's Men, and I was completely blown away. Of course the movie is based on the 1974 book by legendary Washington Post writers, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein by the same title, and it details their exhaustive research on the Watergate scandal.

Not only was the movie a study on how I need to be a better journalist/writer in terms of working harder to get quotes and sources, but it made me realize how much times have changed as well. Woodward and Bernstein had to use payphones, typewriters, library sign out sheets, actual sources, etc. There was little to no instant gratification, it was all about pushing through and working hard until that story was well-sourced and well-written. I could rant on and on but I won't. Just see the movie if you can, and then read the book, like I'm about to do. And then after that I can finally get motivated to watch Frost/Nixon

You know what else I found out yesterday? Prohibition Porter is a great beer. I had it last night, and it made me smile.

Loran's Dance - Grover Washington

I know this song is smooth jazz, and I know I've slammed that genre of music in favor of real, classic jazz, but this song is a sample of one of my favorite Tribe Called Quest songs, so forgive me. Here's s Tribe song:

Push It Along - A Tribe Called Quest

Here is my latest article.
Also, this shoutout made me smile..which is a damn shame because I'm too old to be moved by such things..but i was

Ok, this is one of those blogs I probably should not write, but since its my birthday, I am going to do it anyway, and hopefully I'll get a pass.

This past Monday I attended and covered the Washington Wizards game, and I interviewed some players (Deron Williams and Earl Watson in case you're wondering), and then I used those quotes in this article

The next day, one of my colleagues wrote an article about John Wall, and in this article, he used about three or four of the quotes I obtained in my earlier interviews. There was no mention of where or who he got the quotes from, until after the article was completed. Even then he only wrote:

Thanks to Rashad and Truth About It for the quotations

Now for some perspective, when some of my other colleagues and I borrow a quote from one another, we usually say something like, "According to Rashad of Truth About It, John Wall said..." or we'll list the quote, and at the end of that sentence, we'll say, "according to Rashad from Truth About It", and sometimes we'll just hyperlink the original story somewhere in the sentence. Whatever method we choose, you'll know by the end of the sentence, where that quote came from and who got it. We are all bloggers fighting for some degree of recognition, so we must do this. We don't throw just throw in a "thank you" at the bottom of the article, because frankly no one cares by then.

So suffice it to say, I was a little irritated, but because I'm Rashad I had to reel it in a bit. Is this really something to get angry about? Or am I just being an uptight, whiny little punk (it wouldn't be the first, second or third time)? So I'd like to turn this over to my five readers. You be the judge.

Oh and yeah, i'm 36 today, which means I'm going to post one of my favorite videos. Before I link the video, let me just remind all of you that I love my wife.

I'm having a Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities type of Wednesday. So that I can end on a high note, I'll start with the negative first..

1)I just got my Washington DC driver's license last Tuesday, and then yesterday they promptly hit me with a ticket. Apparently, back on October 3rd of last year (the day of my friend Faye's wedding..its all her fault) I ran a red light, and the security cameras caught me from about 678 different angles. I remember I ran that light because it was raining, and had I tried to brake, I'd have slid in the middle of the intersection..that will be the basis of my flimsy defense. But I'm a little miffed that it took them over 3 months to send me that $150 ticket.

2)I've slept a total of four hours the past two nights. Two nights ago, I'm pretty sure it was due to the 2 ample cups of coffee I drank after 1pm. I don't know what the hell was going on last night. But what I DO know is that I've seen quite enough of ESPN's Australian Open coverage that comes on between 1 and 5am.

3) I have a terrible toothache and I can't get a dentist appointment until next week, which means I have to pop pills like skittles for relief..I'm not exactly crazy about that

And now for the good stuff

1)It looks like I will be able to interview Kareem Abdul-Jabbar for the second time. His people have called my people (me), and if all goes well I can sit down with him during All-Star weekend in Los Angeles. to discuss his upcoming movie.

2)My 36th birthday is tomorrow

3) I will be attending this conference at MIT in March, and although I'm a little nervous because it will be full of folks who are smarter than I am, I still can't wait to learn new things.

I wrote this out to make me feel better..I think it worked

Devil's Pie - D'Angelo

I'd be delighted if you read my article.

Eric Benet: Hip Hop Media Training Interview Part III Of III @ Yahoo! Video

First off, if you live in DC and you can vote, check out my main man Alan Page's blog.

Have you ever had one of those nights when you're playing Scrabble (I spanked my wife's ass once again..pause) and enjoying fine wine in glasses that you received via a wedding gift, and you're having such a great time, that you really don't realize how much you drank, until you wake up the next morning and realize that you overdid it, and you feel like you were run over by 67 tractor trailers all at once?

Yeah me either

A commercial from my youth...

If I am somehow overtaken by a vicious bout of the crazy, and I commit a heinous crime like this Mensa candidate, I wonder how deep in my friend pool the media would dig..I ask this because this morning on the Today show, Meredith Viera (a very poor man's Barbara Walters) was talking to a friend of Jared (not the subway one) and this guy had only known the alleged killer for a few years. Yet, here he was on national television talking about Jared like he was his therapist or long-time friend or something. It was a complete waste of time, but the media is so thirsty for a lead or a breaking story, that they will give assclowns like this a chance to shine. I understand it, but I don't like it.

Still, I wonder who the media would go after in my case. Believe me, I won't be doing anything foolish like my main man Jared, but let's say I became famous all of sudden, and it became cool to directly or indirectly know Rashad F. Baby. Would the media raid my blog for context clues of who I am? Would they read my (semi) stellar articles at Truth About It? Would they hit up my good friends or would they flock to my dumb ass exes who would present a less flattering picture of me? Would my family stay true to me and not talk (or only talk glowingly of me), or would they run their mouths incessantly about my flaws? I hope to find out one day..but again let me stress, I hope it'll because I've done something dazzling and profound, but not crazy and unsettling.

On a serious note, I feel sorry for Jared's parents, who had to put out a statement about their son. That is NOT something a parent ever anticipates doing, and to have to do that on top of the grieving process, must be absolutely agonizing. Maybe they were bad parents who led their son to this state or maybe they were model parents who just lost their son somewhere along the way..I really don't know. I still feel for them.

Touch of Grey - Grateful Dead

I will temporarily shelve my usual crotchety side so that I can give some praise to the DMV in Georgetown. Over the past 15 years or so, I've had some rather forgettable moments in the DMVs in Maryland and Virginia, so you can imagine how much I dreading getting my driver's license renewed in DC (yet another subtle reminder to you people that my birthday is just 9 days away).

But to my surprise, my DMV experience was efficient, quick and pleasant. The security guard came out about about 5 minutes before they opened, and he explained the house rules (no cursing, no beverages, over 65 folks get to go first, etc), and then the doors promptly opened at 8:15. I took a number, filled out my paperwork, gave all my forms, got my picture taken and BAM, I was out of there 30 minutes later. Everyone was friendly and smiling, they laughed at my jokes (they asked me if I was an organ donor, I said I preferred the piano) and not one time did I encounter attitude or ineptitude. I honestly should write Mayor Vincent Gray (who in his younger days went by the name of Vincent Price and did the creepy laugh at the end of Michael Jackson's Thriller) and tell him that they did a damn good job. That's not always easy to say in Washington D.C.

When I left out of the DMV, I saw this outside the building


If you ever wonder why some people still can't forgive Michael Vick, wonder no more...

Ready or Not - After 7
Not to be an old man or anything, but love songs like this don't get made much anymore

I'd like for you to read my article right here, and while you're reading, please put yourself in my shoes, and think about how hard it was to listen to Avery Johnson talk without laughing. Read my article, watch the video in the article, and then come back and watch the video below, and you'll know why I was laughing. Watch the video from the :07 mark to around the 24 second mark

You may be thinking to yourself, damn Rashad doesn't write in this blog as much as he used to, and you'd be correct. Or you may be thinking damn, even though Rashad doesn't write as much as he used to, he still posts some semi-interesting links every now and then, and again you'd be right (I hope). Or you could really not give good goddamn about what I do, and that would be fine too.

Today I am posting yet another link, because my main man Kurt Elling has a new cd coming out in a month, and its called, "The Gate". I know I say this every few months, but if you don't know who he is, I highly suggest you buy one of his cds and you'll be pleasantly surprised and if you're not, I'll reimburse you. And if you are a J Dilla fan, you should definitely pick up this new Kurt Elling cd when it comes out, because Kurt covers the Herbie Hancock song, "Come Running To Me", which Dilla sampled in Slum Village's, "Get Dis Money". I hope I didn't confuse anyone here...

First here's a Kurt Elling song called, "My One and Only Love"


Then here's the Herbie Hancock song, "Come Running To Me" (the Slum Village sample starts at the 1:50 mark):


And now here's the Slum Village song, "Get Dis Money"


Oh and please root for the Eagles this weekend. I want to see an Eagles/Steelers Super Bowl. One QB is a borderline sex offender, the other is a dog killer, and the media will have to spend two weeks trying to spin that into a positive. What's better than that?

Marvin Gaye's "I Want You"..just the vocals.

I realize you may be tired of reading my articles, but I'm not tired of posting them, so here is another one.

All my life I have pretty much avoided coffee like a little kid avoids vegetables. Much like a woman who avoids oral sex, I had tasted it a few times, but I didn't care for it too much, and I never saw what the big deal was. If I wanted a hot drink, I'd stick with warm apple cider, and if I needed a drink to keep me up (awake that is) I'd drink caffeinated tea. I can readily admit that I like the smell of coffee (I also like the smell of bacon, lit pipes and my wife's hair when she gets back from the hairdresser, just in case you were wondering) but that's it.

Things have changed lately, since one of my wife's friends bought us a coffee maker for a wedding gift. As soon as we unwrapped it, I found myself wanting to buy coffee, and then I found myself drinking a cup, and then another. Then that next weekend it was the same type of deal, my wife hooked it up, and I drank it down like I was cramming for an exam, headed for an all-nighter. Unfortunately, I got little to no sleep on the days I drank it, but still, I do believe I am hooked on coffee--homemade coffee that is. I won't buy it or drink it here in the office, I just want it at home while I watch tv and read the paper in the morning.

So what I need from all 5 of you who still read my blog, is some good coffee suggestions..preferably decaf, since the caffeinated coffee sends me through the roof. So far I've had Jamaican coffee (a complimentary gift from the honeymoon) and Dunkin Donuts coffee ( I bought it at Rite-Aid), but I'd like to do some experimenting. I'm sure at least two of you drink coffee, so if you could help me out that will be terrific.

A Roller Skating Jam Named Saturdays - De La Soul
This song is now 20 years old...unf**kingbelievable

New Orleans Hornets forward David West, Dr. Michael Eric Dyson and me.

First off, won't you read my article please?

The combination of me watching the video of Pete Rock and DJ Premier (posted on Sunday's entry) and watching Wynton Marsalis on 60 Minutes, has made me want two things. One, I want to play an instrument again. I played the trumpet in high school and I enjoyed it tremendously, and now I want to either take piano or upright bass lessons (again, I never finished from several years ago). Whether its Pete Rock, DJ Premier or Wynton Marsalis, there is something about watching a musician/DJ passionately talk about what went into the creation of their art. It makes you want to pick up an instrument and master it, so that you can have that same feeling. Its not like writing can't bring me that feeling, but doing something music is much different in my opinion. I will pursue this.

The second thing I want is for there to be a behind-the-scenes type program on television involving popular artists. I want to see one artist talk about one album they've made, and then maybe have the producer and other collaborators talk about the nuances of the album from what inspired a song to how many takes it took to get it right. For example, one of my major regrets was that no one ever sat Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones down to break down Thriller for a good 2 hours. To me that's quality tv/radio/podcasting, and I enjoy hearing that type of thing, so why can't there be a monthly/weekly show to that effect? I've seen these types of documentaries here and there, but nothing constant.

Another example was this video of Steely Dan breaking down their song "Peg". Its only 8 minutes long, but even if you don't like the song, you're captivated by how it all came together..or maybe you aren't...I certainly am

Sitdown With DJ Premier & Pete Rock from DJPremierBlog on Vimeo.

I can't say I have a special, year-ending blog in me this year, so I'll just ramble on a bit. I'm thankful that I spent a lot of quality time with my son, I'm thankful I got married, and I am definitely thankful that my writing career continues to take me to interesting places. Next year will bring more writing, more money and possibly a new addition to the family.

So tonight, whether you are going out to partayy, or staying home with champagne like my wife and i, please be safe, have fun, be responsible, and get laid.

Here's an article I wrote yesterday.

And now, my favorite song of 2010:

My son, his new hairdo that I STILL dont like, and Washington Wizards forward, Rashard (a spelling of my name I still DON'T like) Lewis

No words, just Stevie

So my son got in late last night, and he will be here until Thursday or Friday. He's partly here because of the holiday, and he's partly here to attend a two-day Washington Wizards basketball camp on Tuesday and Wednesday. As usual, it seems like he's grown two or three inches (he's about 5'6") and he seems to be in the embryonic stages of puberty because his voice is a bit more husky and he's slimmed down a bit. But there is one thing that is still an issue, and that is his hair.

Now earlier this year he told me he wanted to grow his hair out a bit to grow cornrows, and I vehemently disagreed with it, but his mother shut me down, which she can do because he lives there and now with me. I saw my son with insanely long hair a couple of times, and I cringed, but I had to respect he and his mother's decision, so I did. I even took him to the barbershop to trim his 'fro, out of support. But last night he walked into my house looking like Eric Benet in 1996. The fro has been replaced by little baby twists, and I just think it looks hideous, but of course he likes it.

In my terribly biased opinion, my son (until he's 16) should not have a say on certain things (piercings, tattoos, the amount spent on shoes and grooming, etc). This is the way my father raised me, and I saw not a damn thing wrong with it. When I was 16 and a senior in high school, my father let me experiment with haircuts (luckily no pictures exist), and that's exactly what I did, and it was fair. I had no such autonomy at age 13..I had to get my haircut every two weeks, whether I liked it or not, and those were the rules. My father could enforce those rules because he was there every day (as was my mother).

Unfortunately for me (and my son), I don't have custody of young Carlton, which means my wishes and desires get pushed by the wayside--until he comes to stay with me of course. I want to cut that b.s. out of his hair so badly, but I know that a)he'll be pissed (I don't really care about that) and b) his mother will be even more pissed (that's a lot harder to ignore). But I feel strongly enough about this to risk both of those things..I think

Sorry to rant so early, but its on my mind..

My article on former Washington Wizard, Mr. Gilbert Arenas.

If someone is in the way (aka blocking the doorway) and I say excuse me twice, and they barely move an inch because their conversation is apparently too interesting and compelling for them to move, do I reserve the right to brush up against them with my shoulder and laptop bag to get where I need to be? Because that's exactly what I just did, and I got cursed at and called all types of wonderful names as a result. I'm really really trying to be a better person here in November and December, but clearly I'm not trying hard enough..I took my ipod headphones off, said excuse me twice, and she looked back at me, determined I had enough room, and kept right on talking. My hands were tied man, I had to bump her..tastefully of course.

Anyway.. today, after a two and a half week hiatus, I get back in the swing of things in terms of writing about basketball, and I am a bit nervous. I have barely paid attention to sports since the day before I left for my wedding, and that was intentional. I wasn't burned out, I just had bigger and better things to focus on and I'm sure no one can blame me for that; however, getting back into the swing of things has been a difficult process. Usually I'm checking out at least 30 basketball sites a day, and I am all over twitter trying to stay informed about the Washington Wizards and the NBA in general. I've done none of that recently, but it resumes today, and I sincerely hope that its like riding a bike, because between today and tomorrow, I have to cover a game and write at least three articles. I'm sure I'll do fine, but the nerves are there regardless.

Someone asked me yesterday why I haven't blogged details about my wedding and honeymoon, and I asked them were they serious, and they said they were. So..I'm barely confident about keeping and maintaining this blog as a married man, but I am supremely confident that I'm not divulging any details about the wedding and the honeymoon. I put two pictures up and that's enough. The rest is reserved for when and if you people come to my house..at that point, my wife and I will feed you, make you drink wine with us, bore you with dazzling, detailed stories about our bless-ed event, and then shove millions of pictures down your throat like nobody's business. And then you'll leave our house feeling like you were there, and all will be well..at least that is how I have planned it out in my head. But no details via the blog.

Gravel Pit - Wu-Tang Clan
This whole song is good, but if you're not a Wu fan or if you're just lazy and don't feel like listening to the whole song, just fast-forward to Ghostface's verse, which is just effin awesome. Its not just what he says, its how he says it and it starts at the 1:56 mark:

So today, in what I can only assume is an effort to both celebrate the holidays and our hard work this year, my company bosses are taking us to lunch. They apparently sent an email out while I was gone last week, and I found this glorious email (one of almost 300 I had to sift through) yesterday afternoon.

In the email, we were told that we would be attending M & S Grill which is right down the street from my job. However, instead of being given carte blanche on what to order, which is my what most people who offer to take you to a meal would do (even on dates), our job sent a list of 8 meals that we (7 of us) would to able to order from. I read that email, then I said, "Are you f**king kidding me?" (to myself), and went to my other co-workers to see if this had caused an uproar last week when I was out, and they said it had. Some of my co-workers even decided not to attend the lunch, because they were so offended at this notion.

Now, I've only been with this company since October, which means I am firmly entrenched in the probationary period, so I will definitely be there with bells on..restricted menu and all. But this sounds like a classic case of living beyond your means..Either take us out to eat and give us carte blanche, or be cheap and give us $10 Starbucks gift cards as a way of saying thanks. But don't treat us (especially me) like children and say, "Ok you can order over here, but not over here!" Tell us if we order expensive, we'll have to put out or pay out of pocket or something, but don't insult everyone by giving us 8 options, when the lunch menu has double that amount available.

So since I'm newly married, and I probably still get a pass, I think I'm going to bring a red pen to lunch today, and ask my bosses if they want me to cross out all the things we can't have. The wife said that may not go over well, but I want to at least acknowledge this bullshit with some classic passive aggressive behavior..it beats aggressive aggressive behavior right?

You Are Not Alone (Michael Jackson tribute) - R. Kelly

ok just one more, and then i'll stop. I know how annoying this picture thing can be when its not harnessed

That picture of my wife and I was taken on South Beach in Miami on 12/11/10

Friends, family, exes, lurkers and everyone in between. I will be getting married tomorrow and after that I will be on my honeymoon, which means that there will be no blog updates from me until December 20th (a month before my birthday I might add). I'd ask that you still check out DCist and Truth About It in my absence, because good things will be surely still be written. I will so (not) be thinking of you during this time, and I'm sure you will so (not) be thinking of me as well. The next time I write in this here space I will be a married man my friends..I will be annoying the shit of you with "my wife" references, and you know what? You will like it!

If you remember (and I'm sure you don't) last October when I was on my to workout, I saw Congresswoman Maxine Waters in front of my apartment trying to hail a cab. I stepped in, I spoke to her, hailed a cab for her, and we went our separate ways. It was absolutely random and surreal that I would see this decorated woman in front of my apartment, while I was in workout gear, but I was truly honored.

So this morning, around 8:15 or so, I saw Ms. Waters near my apartment again, and she was sporting the type of coat that would send PETA into a frenzy (she should have bought the matching hat too, because her head looked freezing cold). Now I should have known that a woman of her stature meets thousands of people each and every day, and there would be no way in hell she'd remember me from a year ago. Still, I went to up to her and then...

Me: Hey Congresswoman, my name is Rashad, how are you?

Her: I'm fine Rashad and you?

Me: Very perfect (and yes I really said that). Do you remember me hailing a cab for you last year in this same spot?

Her: No I can't say that I do

Me: It was early in the morning, and you were headed to the airport I think
Her: No I can't say I do young man
**awkward silence**
Me: Well this isn't going like I planned it

Her (laughs): Its ok, you can blame it on the cold

Me: Ok well you have a great day

Her: Ok you too Rashad

Now, I give her props for using my name during her dismount, that made me smile. I also get props of my own for ending on a relatively high note, despite my failed attempts to make her remember me. I give Waters the edge this time.

If you haven't already, I would kindly ask you read my article over at DCist.

My latest DCist article

Kellz JF
Uploaded by yardie4lifever2. - Explore international webcam videos.

Just one day after officially retiring from the Washington Post, my main man Michael Wilbon has written something for ESPN. Check it out here.

Everyone keeps asking me if I'm nervous about the wedding on Saturday, and then they seemed a bit taken aback or surprised when I say that I'm not. Right now I'm really too busy finalizing minor details here and there to feel any modicum of nervousness. So I'm not nervous now, but as Yoda would say:


But what I am lacking in the nervousness department, I am more than making up in the lack of concentration area. I'm not really focusing on work, working out, blogging or doing any Wizards-related writing like I should. In fact on Sunday, I agreed to write about that dreadful Wizards/Suns game, but when it came time to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard as it were), I had nothing. I'd write five or six paragraphs, and then think of something wedding-related and totally lose my train of thought. This went on for a good four or five hours, and finally I told my main man Kyle that I had nothing of substance to write (which used to happen to me with my old editor, my main man Ryan).

Kyle said he understood how that can happen, but then he used the Jedi Mind trick on me. He said that as much as he understood that I seemingly had nothing to say, he was sure I was up to the challenge of creating something out of nothing. I read that email and was like, "Who the f**k wrote this email, my dad?" But sure enough, I put my head down, powered thru, stayed at work a bit later, and finished the damn article (which can be seen right here). It isn't the best article I have even written, and I really don't like the way it flows, but I finished it. So thanks Kyle.

I wrote all that to say my mind is all over the place, and I really wish I could take this week off. But I'll be fine. Sorry for all the Star Wars references, but I recently found out that Irvin Kershner, the director of my favorite movie EVER (The Empire Strikes Back), died last week, so I figured I'd pepper in some references.

Also, as I mentioned not too long ago, my main man Michael Wilbon is leaving the Washington Post, and his last column appears in today's paper. If you ever wonder why this man is one of my favorite writers, just read this article.

Scenario (remix) - A Tribe Called Quest featuring L.O.N.S.

My latest article

How come you people (all 5 of you) didn't tell me that Pam Grier wrote a memoir?

For the past week or so, I have been taking time at the beginning of both my night and morning showers, to recite my wedding vows. I have made the executive decision not to write them down at all, because I don't excel at reading things off pieces of paper, note cards, iPad, etc. The most I may do is write down some bullet points, but even with that I'm worried that my hands will shake out of nervousness and whenever I show the wedding video to people, they will see me shaking like a madman. That's not the visual I want, so I'm going the Jay-Z route..I'll think about what I want to say, bob my head a bit, and then spit it out off the top of my head..with a little practice of course.

The only problem with this method is that I cannot get my time down. One time I said everything I wanted to say in about 90 seconds, and then last night it took me three minutes or so. I kept adding and subtracting details on the fly and it was just one convoluted, hot ass mess. I'm thinking about getting the cue card holders from SNL to stand directly behind my bride, so it'll appear as if I'm looking in my lady's eyes, when really I'm reading the cards. Pretty smooth right? One way or another, I'll get this down (that's what he said). I have another 9 days to get it straight.

And now, here's an example of my immaturity:


I saw this in the drug store the other night, and nothing but perverted thoughts entered my head(s). Of course the disgusting-looking pictures of food in both the bottom left and right hand corners made it hard to maintain that perversion, but still...

And finally, I've made it pretty clear over the past 4 years of this blog, that I can't stand LeBron James. He basicall defeated my Washington Wizards in the playoffs by himself a couple of times, and I resented that deeply. So tonight when he returns to Cleveland, I hope he fails miserably, and then goes back to being an All-Star another day. My hate is that strong.

Little One - Bilal
I know I've been all over the place in this blog this morning, but I highly suggest you take a listen to this song. Its a song Bilal wrote with his kids in mind, and its beautifully written. It came on my ipod this morning, and I got a little misty..because it was windy outside

I can't wait for this to come out..

So I lost my umbrella yesterday, which meant I had to buy a quick replacement umbrella before starting my journey to work. Unfortunately for me, all the umbrellas at my local drug store where the size of a flaccid phallus, so I begrudgingly bought one, and then I decided to take the train rather than walk to work. I couldn't have people seeing me with that puny umbrella.

As SOON as I got on the train, I noticed this couple kissing, groping and just being f**king disgusting. I'm all for love, and selective public displays of affection, but at 7:30 in the morning? No one needs to see all that when they are en route to work. I was only on the train for 5 minutes, but during that time, this couple barely came up for air. Luckily for me, right before I got off, the train came to a quick and sudden stop, and the dude not only had to stop kissing his girl, but he reached (and missed) for the hand rail to hold on and fell on his ass. I mean FLAT on his ass.

I laughed out loud as did a few others, and then I reached my hand out to help the brother out. And then the following conversation went down;

Him: I fall, you laugh, and then you help me out, no thanks chief
Me: It was funny sir, but you could still use a hand
**at this point his woman steps in and helps him up**
Him: I'm fine a$$hole
Me: Now is that nice?
Him: Is laughing at someone who falls on their ass nice? Its pretty f**king disrespectful if you ask me, but I guess that's what you're about
Me (as the door opens for me to get off the train): You're right, I'm wrong sir. Now go back to groping and kissing your lady, show me that good, respectful train etiquette

Now I heard the man say something else but I had put my headphones back on already, and Kanye West was telling me how much of a Monster he was, so I didn't hear. Personally, I think it was pretty admirable of me to stop laughing and help the man up, as opposed to the other folks who kept right on laughing and did nothing. Clearly this brother disagreed.

I realize no one probably cares about this but me, but I'm curious as to whether anyone else thinks I was in the right. The lady tells me that I need to improve on my public behavior, and I think this was a start. Plus I left on a high note which isn't easy to do.

One more question for you the reader..if you and I were friends, whether it was online, in real life or just via blog comments, would you be offended if I deleted your blog from my blogroll (which is over to the right by the way)? There is one person who I initially added to my blogroll because they seemed relatively pleasant, but their blog entries are terrible and elementary. This is my blog and ostensibly I can do what I want, but again, I'm trying to be a frequent traveler of the high road at this point in my life.. It just annoys me each and every time I see that person write something...

Angela Bofill - I Try