As promised, I strode with confidence in Filene's Basement. yesterday, with hopes of snagging the ultimate nightgown/shirt for my lady. When you aren't in a sexy store like Victoria's Secret, or an outwardly raunchy store like Frederick's of Hollywood, there is a certain element of creepiness about a man looking around in the women's lingerie section. I felt like I was in Silence of the Lambs. dancing around asking someone to place the lotion in the basket. But I powered through, and I noticed that the nightgowns were pretty damn ugly, but the nightshirts had much more flair to them, so I made it my business to hone in on them.

I narrowed it down to two shirts. One shirt basically looked like the dress shirts I wear to work every day, except it was a tad bit longer. The other shirt, had some V-neck action going on, and it was pretty long, but not below the knee. I figured I could donate one of my dress shirts to my lady when I got home, and buy the V-neck, and that's exactly what I did. Words cannot begin to explain how apoplectic I felt to have picked out an article of clothing for my lady. I can barely pick out my own clothes without her help and confirmation, so this was indeed a milestone, whether she liked it or not. It just so happens that she loved it.

Bruce Springsteen. is performing at halftime of the Super Bowl. Bruce effing Springsteen? Don't get me wrong, I love Bruce, I think he's a brilliant songwriter, and if this were the Super Bowl after 9/11, he'd be my man 100 times out of 100. But he's like 60 years old, and most of this true fans will either be a)sleep or b)only tuning in at the half to see him. And if you only watch the Super Bowl to see Bruce, then chances are high that you are only watch the commercials, not the actual game, and you don't deserve to be rewarded with your favorite performer at halftime anyway. The last two Bruce Springsteen songs I know all the words to, are the one from the movie Philadelphia. , the song from Jerry Maguire. that they played during all the sad moments, and I am 100% sure he's not belting those out. And do you know who we have to thank for this rash of safe, but boring halftime performers? Janet Jackson., who forgot halftime at the Super Bowl wasn't hooters on that ill-fated Sunday a few years back. Thanks Ms. Jackson. Now the NFL is scared to let anyone under 50 perform.

Poor Righteous Teachers - Shakilya
This song reminds me of 1991, when my brother and I would come home, shun homework and any degree of responsibility, and just sit in front of the tv, and watch rap videos until my parents got home.

How did you leave your lady in bed, knowing that she's still in recovery mode, and even though her mother is more than capable of taking care of her, why do I feel like I should still be at home? How do I tell my boss that I am basically sleepwalking, because I was up every hour making sure my lady was alright and not in pain? How do I not feel paranoid about losing my job, because I took an extra day of leave, because I felt like I absolutely HAD to be there for my lady during this rough time? And how the HELL did 100 emails come to my work account in just 3 days? This concludes the rhetorical question section of the blog.

Speaking of my future mother-in-law, I need to convince/bribe her into living with us. Last night, not only did she cook a wonderful dinner of grilled salmon, a mixed green salad and a baked potato, but she set the table, brought the food out on the kitchen table, served us, collected our plates, AND washed the dishes, despite my passionate plea to wash them for her. By 6:40, I was full, satisfied, and watching the depressing local news. My lady and I usually don't get home until 6-6:30, and then we sit around for another hour getting ourselves together, so realistically speaking, we are putting our forks to the food around 8-8:30, which isn't always favorable to the digestive system. For me to be done eating a full two hours ahead of time is just fucking golden(c)Blagojevich

I've been asked to purchase a nightgown some time today, which is way out of my jurisdiction, but since my lady can't leave the house, and her mother has to stay be her side, the responsibility falls squarely on my shoulders. My lady suggested I ask my boss (who is a woman she's met) for some help, but my ego will not allow that, plus there's something creepy about my boss and I going in the female lingerie department together. Women who work in these departments often prey on and chastise men like me, thinking they can cajole us into purchasing more items than we had orginially intended to snag. So that I don't fall for that banana in the tailpipe routine, I will briskly walk into the that part of the store, pick the first thing I see that looks like my lady's size, I'll make sure its sheer(for my personal gain), I'm paying for it, and then I'm leaving. No "How can I help you today?", No, "Well what size is your lady?", and no "If I shove my breasts and cleavage in your face, can I get you to spend $100 more than you want." None of that.

This is what my blogs are going to look like once I get married, and I'm ok with that. Although, I haven't been out and in the world for 4 days, so I have limited material today.

Desafinado - Stan Getz

Thank you everyone for your thoughts and prayers, I really appreciate it. My lady is home today, and she's resting and the surgery was a success. I am extremely proud of her, because given all that she's been through, she's in great spirits. When I go back to work tomorrow, her mother will be taking care of her. So again, thank you.

Also check this article I wrote while in the cafeteria of the hospital last night.

Tomorrow morning at 6am, my lady will have surgery to remove the fibroids from her body. Long term, this will allow her and I to have a baby, without the kinds of problems we had last fall. Short term, she will be out of work for 6-8 weeks. Part of the reason her mom is staying us, is to help out for a couple of weeks while I'm at work. So if you're a praying person, say a prayer for my lady and me. If not, just think some good thoughts. I'd really appreciate it.

About 30 minutes ago, I got my groceries delivered the way I always do. The gentleman brought the groceries in my building, and then the elevator, and I got a good look at him, and I thought he looked familiar, and I told him as much. He said that I looked familiar too, and at this point it felt like a scene out of a gay porn movie, until it clicked in my mind who he was. His name is Troy, and when I was in high school, this dude used to work in my building. I can't remember whether he was a janitor or he worked in the cafeteria, but I remember he did something like that. All the students were between 14 and 18, and this dude was clearly 25 or 26, and even back then I remember thinking it was odd for someone so young, to be in such a position. I also remember being jealous because some of the better looking women wanted to have sex with him, and if my memory serves me correctly, some of them actually did.

Anyway I had not seen this guy since 1992, and now here he was in my kitchen delivering my groceries. He dropped them off, I signed for them, we shook hands, and then he went on his merry way. I wondered if he cared that 17 years ago he was either cleaning or cooking for me at my high school and now here he was serving me in a different way. I wondered if he was peace, and was it only me who was thinking about such things. Once we established we knew each other, there wasn't much conversation between us, which was odd. This is where thought balloons would come in handy.

I'd also like to thank my lady for allowing to clean our oven for the first time in my 34 years on this planet. I can say it was the single nastiest thing I have ever done, and next time I'm hiring someone to do it.

Devin the Dude, Snoop Dogg and Andre 3000 - What A Job

So this morning I had what I hope will be my final doctor consultation about my back. The doctor said the MRI came up negative, and although there is a slight bulge in my disc, it is nothing to be concerned about at this present juncture. He gave me some intense stretching exercises, told me to get fitted for orthopedic shoes since my feet are incredibly flat, and I should see improvements. I also told him that now that my MRI came up clean, I was going to do get down with a little acupuncture and a litle swimming, and he agreed that would help. I REALLY hope this is the last time I have to write about this, because goddammit I'm only 34, and I need my back to do many many special things, only half of which I can write about.

While driving back from the doctor's office, I happened to be behind a van that had some edible fruit floral arrangment company on it, and I just started laughing. Who the hell sends these arrangments? Actually now that I think about it, after my lady got out of the hospital in October, her co-workers sent her one of these, and I laughed at it then too. Fruit is not basket or arrangement worthy on any level. Candy? Yes. Condoms? Hell yes. Cash? Absolutely. But fruit? That's what grocery stores, farmer's markets and your grandmother's dining room table are for..

My future mother-in-law is coming to visit my lady and I for two weeks starting tomorrow. I know she reads this blog from time to time, so let me say, I can't wait for you to arrive, and I will do my best to navigate that tricky balance of showing you a good time, and giving you your space. Don't feel any pressure to be on your best behavior, out of fear that I may write about you in this blog, and slander your good name in a way that would make Ann Coulter blush. I will do no such thing. And even if I did, I would deprive you any kind of internet access until you returned home and by then, you'd forget anyway.

Chamber Mates - Paul Chambers
For the past couple days at work, I've been playing nothing but jazz, specifically jazz bassists, and Paul Chambers was one of the five best jazz bass players ever. This song is from his 1957 album called Bass on Top. Imagine me saying everything I just typed in a cool, raspy voice with lights low.

Please read my Barack Obama article

My brother is now blogging here. Read it, comment on it, and all that.

I need some help man. In four days, on January 26th, my mother will turn 57 years old, and I have not a clue in the world what to get her. I've gotten her flowers, trips to the spa, and massages over the past few years, so I can't go to that well again. I really want to get her an IPOD, but I suspect that will just confuse her, and then add to the number of times I get a frustrated call from her at an odd hour. I have NO idea what any of my mother's sizes are...in fact I don't think I've ever known that type of information, because I'm her son, not her daughter or my younger androgynous brother Jamal. When she was married, I could just have a talk with her husband, and just use his 6th and 7th birthday gift options, combined with my own ideas, and I'd have a bangup gift. But not only is my mother not married, she JUST moved to Cleveland, so she doesn't have a special friend, so I'm totally clueless here. So, for those of you who have mothers between 55-60, and have actually taken the time to buy a gift, throw me a rope here and tell me what kind of gift I should get.

By the way, yesterday I made a remark about interracial dating, and someone attempted to call me on it, and that person can kiss my entire black ass two times. If you couldn't tell that comment was tongue and cheek, then again, you can take YOUR tongue and put it on MY cheek(s). Not only have I dated outside my race before, but my son, who I jokingly call a referee, has a white mother, who is a total jackass, but that's not because of her race, but that's another blog for another day. But if you aren't smart enough to know that there are white AND black people who STILL turn their nose up at this phenomenon, then you too are a jackass..either that or a Norfolk State graduate (inside joke). The whole joke was since Barack is allegedly the savior for every other walk of life, perhaps he can bring some positive shine to interracialness(if you will) given that a)he's a product of that and b)white women seem to love him. damn. CAN I LIVE?

Footprints - Miles Davis Quintet
Miles Davis - trumpet
Wayne Shorter - tenor sax
Tony Williams - drums
Herbie Hancock - piano
Ron Carter - bass

Jan 21st, 2009, 12:16 am outside of my apartment...

I think the highlight of yesterday's inauguration experience yesterday happened around 9pm, when I read online that Obama was going to be making an appearance at the Youth Ball. which was half a block from my house. Instantly, I stayed glued to my window, hoping I'd see the President and his wife drive by, but it didn't happen. Apparently he snuck by my window, because around 10:15, I saw he and his wife dancing at this ball that was so close to my house. Then, 5 minutes after he left, I was glued to the window once again, and I saw his limo go by a street directly in front of my building, and my lady and I both smiled. I know it sounds like a small thing to be smiling over, but it was hard not to be caught up in all moments of yesterday.

I did get a little sad at some points yesterday, talking to dad, who was wishing both of his parents were alive to see this, given how they struggled with race related issues for more than half of their lives. I could hear my dad getting choked up, and I couldn't imagine what a bittersweet feeling that must have been.

Also, my boy Cliff and I speculated a while back what Obama would do for interracial dating. Lots of white women old and young have been smiling at me the past couple days, and although I have a woman, perhaps someone in DC will reap the benefits. It could happen, you don't know...

My birthday was excellent, despite the fact that I partied just a little too hard the night before. My lady took me out to a fancy dinner, and she got me a REAL IPOD that plays videos, holds all my music, and it has a personalized message for me engraved in the back. Good times indeed.

I'd like to personally thank the millions of people who were in front of my apartment building between 12am and 5am this morning. Whether you were driving or just being rowdy in your leisurely stroll down my street, you kept me and my lady up all night listening to your loud asses. But I'm not bitter.

Please Don't Leave Me - Eric Roberson

I thank God, for allowing me to see my 34th year today
I also thank Barack Hussein Obama for completely upstaging me today.

This morning my lady and I went out for bagel sandwiches, and on a humble I stopped at the record store, where they just so happened to be having a 30% off sale. I bought the above records for just $20, and I am damn near giddy, as you can probably tell, because I took the time to lay the records on the ground, and snap a photo. And yes I am playing the records (BeBe and CeCe Winans' "Heaven" to be exact) as I type this entry. In case you can't see the pics, the records are:

1)BeBe and CeCe Winans - Heaven
2)Phoebe Snow - Phoebe Snow
3)Lionel Richie - Can't Slow Down
4)Miles Davis - Tune Up
5)Anita Baker - Giving You The Best I Got
6)Anita Baker - The Songstress
7)Stanley Jordan - Magic Touch

I feel a little guilty for not mentioning Obama or MLK in my blog, but cut me some slack. They both are all over the television today, and you can go there, because I certainly have and will. I just wanted to blog about a little something different. This is my semi-disclaimer.

Great times!

Last night around 8:45pm, my ladyfriend got it in her mind that she wanted to see the movie Notorious, and I had mixed feelings. Its not that I did not think the movie would be entertaining, its just that movies attack a certain element that I don't feel like dealing with on a Saturday night: Black youth.

Now I know that sounds racist and maybe even it makes me sound like a cranky old man, but there are a few realities here. First off, it was cold, so my lady and I weren't going too far to see this movie, so theater options were already limited. Second, because this a predominantly black movie with a popular subject matter, it wasn't going to show in the quait, quiet movie theaters I usually see my movies in around DC. Third, this is inauguration weekend, so the city is much more electric than it would be on a regular Saturday. And lastly, the kids have a four day weekend, which means going to bed before midnight is out of the realm of possibility. So what does it all add up to? My lady and I had to hit a major movie theater in the heart of DC with a theater mostly full of loud obnoxious kids, although some of the adults weren't better.

There were kids as young as 2 years old in the that movie theater, and given there was cursing, sex and violence in the movie, and it was oh-by-the-way after 11pm, there's just no way a kid that young, should be out, let alone in the movie. At one point during the movie, there were two strollers in the aisle next to me, one pushed by a man, one pushed by a woman, and they could not find seats, so they just were sitting in the aisle. There were kids sniggling and giggling throughout the entire movie, and at one point, this woman yelled at her kids at the top of her lungs right in the middle of the damn movie. Those are the negative aspects..but because today is Sunday, let me focus on the positive.

The movie was entertaining. Angela Bassett took a limited role and ran with it, the way you'd expect Ms. Bassett to do. The rest of the actors, including the one who played Biggie, did a believable job, and of course the music was excellent. Yes the story was extremely biased and one-sided with their portrayals of certain characters (like 2pac), but given that the movie was executive produced by Mr. Sean Combs, I can't be too shocked.

It hit me during the movie, that Biggie's career basically spanned my college years. During my first year of college, 1992-1995, he apppeared on soundtracks and B-sides. During my junior and senior years 1994-1996, his cd came out, he blew up, and did more remixes than I could shake a stick at. And then shortly after I finished my student teaching and graduated in Dec of 1996, he died. That is just sad. Not even five years, yet his music lives, his name is still talked about, and he has a movie out that I sat through and enjoyed despite my surroundings. Go figure.

Anyway, the movie is entertaining, so I recommend it. Just go see it at noon or something before the kids ruin your experience.

My article

Yesterday I came to work without my wallet. Usually I keep my metrocard, my money and my wallet in the same area by the bed, but for some reason yesterday, I neglected to pick up my money and my wallet and I realized it as soon as sat down in my office. So immediately I had three options: 1)Walk in the 5 degree weather to the train station, take the train home, walk from the train to my apt, get my wallet, then come back..2)Borrow some money from someone so I could eat lunch 3)Starve until I get home.

Now, I do not like to ask people for money, but I especially don't like doing that at work. There is a certain degree of vulnerability that comes with asking people for money at work, and I am just not down with that. Plus, I don't want my co-workers speculating about my financial situation, and even though yesterday was payday and they knew I wasn't broke, I was still paranoid about asking, which is just sad. Around noon or so, my stomach was growling particularly loud, and I got up the nerve to ask my boss to borrow money, but then I chickened out at the last minute and just asked her for some peppermint tea, which calmed my growling stomach for all of 3 seconds. I did have an apple that I brought in to go with my lunch (assuming I had my wallet to buy a sandwich) but that apple was devoured in 30 seconds, and my stomach growled louder as if to say, "That's the best you can do?"

2pm came, and we had a meeting that turned out to be an hour long. I did the following things to mask the sounds of my stomach sounding like DMX:

1)rustle papers
2)clear my throat
3)slide my chair back away from the table
4)tighten my stomach(this one was just asinine)


Around 3:30, I got a call from my main man Rashaad who works on the fifth floor of my building, and he told me that there was a going away party for someone, and there were desserts for the taking. I hung up on him when I heard desserts, and I stepped with purpose up to the fifth floor, and instead of grabbing every piece of dessert I could get my meaty hands on, I politely took one piece of cake so I wouldn't look like I left my wallet home, and I went back downstairs. That cake was gone before I got out of the elevator.

Now eventually 5:30 came, and like an ass I walked home in the 5 degree weather trying to get a workout, and I was thinking to myself, I could have done this earlier and just went to get my wallet. By the time I ate something at home it was 6pm, almost a full 12 hours since I had left home. So let this be a lesson to you. Befriend at least one person in your office, so that when you forget your wallet, you can borrow money without your pride getting in the way.

Unbelievable - Biggie
I dedicate this song to my boss, since she is currently giving serious consideration to going to see this. movie at lunch time. If you saw this woman, you'd NEVER suspect that she was a Biggie fan. NEVER.

Once upon a time in 1997, Ray-J was tolerable....

So last night my mother, my brother and I met for dinner for the first time in at least 3 or 4 years. Because we lived in three different states(I'm aware DC isn't a state, but humor me) we would see each other, but never all at the same time, so this was quite the occasion. My mother was in town to attend a reception for Marcia Fudge. (Stephanie Tubbs-Jones. replacement), so my brother and I picked her up from this, and took her back to her hotel where we had dinner.

At one point during the dinner, my mother had the waiter bring a small piece of cake out, and everyone in the restaurant(there were about 10-15 people) started singing happy birthday to me about 6 days too early. I wanted to throw a GFY. out there to everyone, but my mother the minister was in attendance, so I relaxed. Towards the end of the song, the waiter mistakenly told every damn body that it was my birthday,and my mother jumped in and said, "No his birthday is Sunday..I mean Monday..wait no its Tuesday." Instantly, the Rashad-is-adopted conspiracy theories that I had shunned and locked away for so many years, were mentally opened in my mind like a Cold Case episode.

But seriously, towards the end of the dinner, my mother looked over at this group of elderly people and said, "These are my two boys", and the look on her face was simply priceless. She was smiling and just overflowing with love, and that wasn't something lost on me or my brother. I suppose when you're a mother, and you see your kids go from being infants, to attending soccer practices, to dropping them off at college, to seeing them fight, to watching them get married, to seeing them become self-sufficient grown men(allegedly), you are filled with a feeling that cannot be described, although I have tried this entire paragraph. Its a feeling I hope to have with my son, as well as the kid my lady and I will have.

And yes, in case you were wondering, this whole blog entry was a subliminal reminder that my birthday is January 20th. Everything else I mentioned was just garnish, fluff, icing, nerf ball.....

Danielle Brisebois - My Only
In the movie As Good As It Gets., there's a scene when Jack Nicholson's character takes Helen Hunt's character to a fancy restaurant, and this is the song playing when they enter. Its a great scene and an even better song

I do a lot of complaining, bitching and moaning on this blog, and those of you who know me relatively well, understand that some of it is real, and some of it is tongue-in-cheek. Every now and then I write about serious, but I try to keep things light-hearted, because again, that's who I am most of the time. Consider this an every now and then situation.

I have gotten the chance to meet many people since I started covering the Washington Wizards, and one of them is named Brian. The first day I strolled into the Verizon Center this past summer, I was completely clueless about where to go, who to talk to, where the practice court was, and all that. Brian was the first person I saw, and he sensed that I was clueless, and he pointed me in the right direction, and struck up a friendly conversation with me, and I always appreciated that. Many times PR people in his position are antagonistic a-holes, and Brian was/is nothing of the sort. Since that initial meeting I've seen Brian here and there, and he'll say what's up, or we'll just head nod each other. We don't know each other well enough to have an extensive conversation, which is fine by me.

A few weeks ago I saw Brian, and I noticed he was wearing a hat, and underneath the hat, I noticed that he was completely bald. I figured that he either lost a bet, or he possibly had cancer, but I never really put two and two together. I'm so focused on getting interviews, writing my game notes, and looking like I know what i'm doing when I get to a Wizards game, that I barely paid attention to the reasons surrounding Brian's change in appearance. But last night while I was whipping my lady's monkey ass again in Scrabble, I googled Brian's name and came across his blog, and learned that Brian did indeed have glioblastoma multiforme, or GBM, which is the most aggressive form of brain cancer.

Brian has been chronicling his fight on his blog, and I can honestly say that is extremely humbling for me to read this man's fight with something so serious at just 29 years of age. I realize reading something like that could be depressing, but I found it to be quite inspirational, which is why I'm dedicating a few paragraphs in my blog to mention it. I'm not going to say my blog is unimportant and pointless next to his, because every one's voice needs to be heard in some shape, form or fashion (plus I'm competitive). But I will say that if you get a chance, you should check out Brian's blog.

Set Adrift on Memory Bliss - PM Dawn

Who says writing your lyrics down is bad...

Tanko at work - Black Thought from the Legendary Roots Crew