Black Thought II

First, to set the record straight, my Dirty Sanchez comment has nothing to do with race.

If I wanted to make a Hispanic joke, I would have done a lot better than Dirty Sanchez.

Do I really care since we are in this "political climate?"

No.

Moving on, I am sure Los Angeles will be brought to a crawl tomorrow when 3 million Mexicans walk off the job and protest. I sure wouldn't be going to work tomorrow.

And while they are busy singing the National Anthem in Spanish, back in Mexico, they are this close to legalizing drugs.

http://abcnews.go.com/International/wireStory?id=1904669&CMP=OTC-RSSFeeds0312

Are you serious?

If I used drugs, I would be ecstatic, but since I don't, the whole theory behind it is just funny to me.

Selling drugs is still illegal but possession of a dime bag is not.

I dont think it's going to cause a spike in deaths right away.

But when Spring Break 2007 rolls around, and you can go to Mexico and snorting a line of coke is legal, watch out.

It's going to be Natalie Holloway times 100 because you are going to have a bunch of Americans high out of their natural minds.

Good times.

Also back at home, as much as I dislike the Lakers, I am now in a position where I have to root for them in order to setup the greatest playoff series in Los Angeles basketball history.

The Los Angeles Lakers vs. the Los Angeles Clippers.

The Showdown at Staples Center is almost all set as both teams are up 3-1 in their respective series.

I can't even imagine what Los Angeles is going to be like if this goes down.

Good vs. Evil.

My money is on the Clippers in a 7 game series.

A 7 game series that won't leave Downtown Los Angeles.

That's the best part.

It's Hip to Clip.

I grew up thinking women were trustworthy.

They had to be a lot more trustworthy then us guys.

But I'm starting to have my doubts now.

First it was the stripper (yeah, i said it, stripper) in Durham messing with the Duke lacrosse team.

Common sense would tell you not to strip for a group of drunk white boys in North Carolina.

But the power of the almighty dollar will have you do some crazy things...

And now, back home in Los Angeles, the heir apparent to Matt Leinart, Marc Sanchez was arrested for an alleged sexual assault.

Note to former future USC football players - don't live at Cardinal Gardens. You are just asking for trouble.

I think I jinxed this kid from the start.

Several months ago I IM'ed a fellow Trojan fan and called him Dirty Sanchez.

He seems to be living up to his nickname.

But anyways, never met the kid, saw him play in high school though at Mission Viejo and the little I saw of him on TV, he really doesn't seem like the type to be involved in something like this.

But then again, look at Kobe Bryant...

Back to my point though, I think males are getting a bad rap here. Any woman can scream rape and have a guy hauled off to jail, and in case of these athletes, ruin their future careers.

Assuming Sanchez is not guilty of this alleged assault, his name is going to be always linked to this incident.

And if he did commit a crime, then he deserves whatever is handed down to him by the courts.

But how about increasing the heat on these women who make these claims towards males for it only to not be true.

As for the Duke case, everyday seems to bring a new nugget of information in that case.

Today's goldmine is that she accused three males of a rape 10 years ago...only for the charges to be dropped.

The day before it was the Duke players used a broom during the alleged rape.

That would explain the lack of DNA from the scene.

But I still can't buy her story - too many holes from the gun and as much as we want to believe whitey raped this poor black girl, I really don't think these kids did it.

You won't find me wearing no Duke LAX shirt though...

Free Dirty Sanchez!

Over the years I have been spoiled by The Roots.

From Lincoln Center where Jay-Z came out to entertain the crowd to the House of Blues where they played nearly a three hour set one night.

They came to Hofstra tonight and put on, of course, a good show.

And to the average no music knowing Hofstra fan, it was the best concert they have ever seen.

Ever.

But The Roots weren't giving an 100 percent effort.

It's like Kobe dropping 38 points.

To the non-NBA fan, Kobe dropping 38 would be some great feat.

You would leave Staples Center thinking this guy was the best ever.

But to a Laker fan, Kobe scoring 38, ho-hum, just another night for #8 (soo to be #24)

Now The Roots at Lincoln Center - that was Kobe dropping 81.

Once in a lifetime experience.

This was the concert where Frank and I had front row seats.

And about halfway through the show, I hear this scream and in my head I'm going "Wow she must really love The Roots!"

I look over and a speaker had fallen on her and crushed her leg.

Normally I would have laughed but she was screaming in pain and even a couple members of the band looked to see what was going on as they kept on playing...

But back to the Hofstra show - after you have seen The Roots more than once, you sort of know how the concert will unfold.

You will get your random Black Thought freestyle.

Your "You Got Me" with Kirk Douglas singing the hook (or Cody Chestnutt if you see them on a good night)

The medley of songs that The Roots attempt to rap over...

And Hub's bass solo which steals the show...

...only until ?uestlove does his drum solo.

Either way, well worth the $10 bucks.

So I realized I haven't really blogged since I got back from Spring Break.

The reason?

School.

Just when I thought I turned the corner with midterms, a week after I get back to school and I have three papers due in a span of a week.

On top of that, I am involved in two new projects on campus which take up most of my free time in the evening.

Not to mention the job...

*Here comes the plug of my work*

The wifey can tell you first hand how much time I had to spend on this project but check out the photo gallery I created. See, I can do more than just write...

http://blackvoices.aol.com/black_entertainment/gulfcoastphotogallery

I feel like a bad boyfriend because of instead of entertaining my girlfriend, I was busy trying to finish this gallery and write two papers at the same time.

Luckily we got 5 inches of rain this weekend so that sort of forced us to stay inside but my attention was focused on the books, and not 100 percent to her.

Mi mala.

More later, school is calling my name...

http://www.washblade.com/2005/7-15/news/localnews/wilson.mp3


This happened last year but I still chuckle when I hear this clip...from a D.C. sermon in 2005.

Kids, don't do drugs.

That includes legal ones as well.

My plan was to tell you all about the procedure today... except for the fact that I can't remember a thing from it.

Here I was, all nervous the night before, texting the wifey to pray for me and I can't even remember what the hell happened.

I get there and after I disrobe into a gown (you feel quite the draft, I tell you) they wheel me into the room.

I only had one question the whole time I was there. What drugs was I going to recieve exactly.

That's all I wanted to know.

The first time I asked the question, the nurse said someone will inform you and just sign this consent form.

The form had a list of possible drugs that I might recieve and a warning about I can't drive for 24 hours, etc...

"Miss, can you just tell me what I'm getting exactly."

"Just sign the form."

Hmph.

Fine.

I signed the form - it was too early and I was too hungry to get into an argument with this woman.

So back in the room, they hook me up to all the machines and start giving me oxygen.

The doctor comes in and I was still waiting to get an answer.

He jokingly goes "So you don't want to be awake during the procedure."

I asked him if he's ever had one before.

"No, I just give them."

I had a Brokeback joke all ready to go but considering this was the man who was going to be playing Ms. Pac Man with my asshole, I decided not to.

My last attempt to find out what drugs I was getting was when the doctor said he was giving me some saline to clear out my IV.

"This is just salin....zzzzzzzz"

Like a Barry Bonds homerun, I was long gone.

The last thing I can remember is trying to turn over to my left side and that was it.

After the procedure, this is where the rest of the day gets fuzzy.

I don't exactly remember leaving the doctors office.

From what I was told, for some odd reason the nurse sent me to the bathroom to get dressed.

Now she had to know I was knocked out and I'm not even sure how I made it to the bathroom.

But once I got inside, I wasn't exactly getting dressed.

I fell asleep.

So for the second time, my dad had to come to the rescue and dress my black ass like I was 2 years old.

Next thing I can remember is being back at home in the bed, like nothing had happened.

I woke up, ate a little something, chatted for a bit, and fell asleep again.

The scary part is I can't even remember who I was chatting with. Or what I was talking about.

My entire Friday was a wash - it has been spent laying in bed and now I'm down to my last 24 hours in Los Angeles....

Seven hours into Operation Cleanse and I'm super hungry.

I managed to do pretty well all day without wanting to tear up my leftovers but it's finally catching up to me.

Lime Jell-O is just not doing the trick anymore.

*drools over the thought of day old Pizza and Mojo potatoes*

All I know is the doctor better drug me tomorrow...I don't want to remember this Brokeback experience.

WARNING: The next two days of posts might be a little too personal for you - so if you don't want to read about my poo - then please come back on Saturday. Gracias.

So how I have spent my Thursday so far?

Not eating.

And preparing for a long 12 hours.

So as some of you might know, I got a little thing known as Crohn's Disease. It sucks, but hey, what can I do about it?

But as a result, I have to get a yearly colonoscopy.

If you don't know what that is, open up a new window, Google it.

Read all that? Now do you feel my pain?

I haven't had one since October 2004 and I have managed to hold out this long but it's finally my time again.

The worst part isn't the actual procedure itself. I had so many drugs last time I hardly remember anything about the day.

It's the day before.

One must....*clears throat* clean the system out if you catch my drift.

Which means I'll be 5 feet away from the bathroom tonight as I try to run to and from the living room to watch The O.C.

Damn I'm hungry...and it's only 3:21....

Judging by how my trip ended, you would have thought luck was on my side the whole time.

I was walking about of the Wynn and found $5 bucks on the ground.

Too bad the $5 bucks didn't begin to cover the amount of money that I lost.

OK, OK, it wasn't that bad actually.

$75 bucks.

That's not bad considering the amount I played over the three days.

To the point where I felt important because I was getting meals for free.

The hotel itself is probably the nicest on the Strip. We had a view overlooking the hotel's 9 hole golf course on the 17th floor.

When we got there Sunday, you could tell there was a fight in Vegas the night before.

I had never seen so many out of place black people in Vegas in my life.

People that when you walked by them, you just wanted to shake your head and go "Lawd"

When I wasn't losing money or stuffing my face for free, I was sleep. The bed was amazing - the best feature about the room besides the flat screen HDTV mounted on the wall.

But alas, its back to reality. Back to Los Angeles where I only have a couple days left before I head back to NYC Saturday night.

First up on the LA checklist - In N' Out for a double-double...

INGLEWOOD - How did you spend your Saturday?

Can it top a 13 hour trip in trying to get home?

I think not.

Since airfare was just off the charts for this weekend, I was flying standby on a United pass.

Get to JFK at 6AM and prepare myself mentally for a long day.

The first flight was at 7AM and judging by the last time I flew stand by, I didn't get my hopes up that I would get on.

After I didnt, I figured no sweat, there is a flight at 8:45 - I can go get something to eat and come back.

Boarding starts for the 8:45 flight and now I had my hopes up. I figured I was a lock for this flight.

"Flight 23 is now full."

Crap.

Now I had been bumped from two flights and I was running out of steam, fast.

I had to wake up at 4AM to get to JFK and I had three hours of sleep. If I didn't get on the next flight, I was about to go lay up somewhere in the terminal and pass out.

But as they say, third time is a charm and I got on the 11:20 flight to LA.

Business Class at that.

So I figured the drama of this day was over.

About an hour into the flight as I'm getting served wine and lobster, over the PA system, the pilot goes is there a doctor on board.

Everyone starts looking down the aisle to see who the sick one is and nobody saw anyone.

Couple hours later I wake up from a nap and I look out the window and I was like this looks familar.

Nothing but wheat fields all around and I knew we were in Denver about to land.

I guess the woman couldn't make the rest of the flight because as soon as we touched down, the EMTs came on the plane and got her. At this point, she was laying in the back of the plane on the ground. I thought she was dead.

We spent over an hour in Denver just sitting on the plane while the doctors got this woman off.

I thought it would be funny to call my Denver friends and go "I came to Denver, don't say I didn't call you." This skit wasn't as funny as nobody picked up their phone.

Finally at 6:45 eastern, I landed in Los Angeles, a tired and beaten man.

Off to Las Vegas for 2 days of gambling and buffets...

If the Wynn Hotel is as good as advertised, I am sure I will have an entry just on the hotel room.

For four long hours yesterday, I thought I was going to die.

I thought I wouldn't see graudation.

I thought I would never share that first dance with my wife.

I thought I would never see my son hit that little league home run.

All because of my friend Robert.

All New Yorkers drive like there is no tomorrow. From the cab drivers right on down to the college students who try to duplicate them.

I'm finally on Spring Break and I asked him for a ride to my grandparents since he lives in the area.

He said there was only one thing I had to know before I accepted.

I figured it couldn't be that bad - maybe his backseat was dirty or he couldn't leave until later that night.

"I have to drop Aaron off at Newark."

Uh oh.

I did quite my share of time in the car with Robert last semester and learned my lesson quick.

Drive myself.

And I had managed to stay out of his car all semester for the most part until yesterday.

My theory was since Aaron, another Inglewood boy I might add, was in the car, maybe he would ease up on the Crazy Taxi driving technique and drive slow (you never know)

Boy, was I wrong.

Somewhere on the Southern State Parkway as Robert is ripping and running through traffic, Aaron looked back at me in the backseat.

No words were exchanged.

None needed to be said.

We both knew we were going to die.

Quietly, I said a short prayer to myself and tried to keep my mind focused on other things instead of his driving.

But here is where I went from being scared to just being mad.

Robert has this bad habit of turning around to talk to you when he's driving.

It's cute and shit when you are on the street and at a red light but when you are going 80 on a 3 lane highway, with the red lights in front of you, it's just like what the fuck.

Focus!

Finally I learned my lesson and just stoped talking to him because every word I would say, he would have to turn around and look at me.

I had never been so happy in my life to see traffic because I knew we would finally have to go at a slow pace.

Nearly three hours later, we make it to Newark - at this point Aaron had missed his flight.

And quiet honestly, he didn't care - he was just happy to be out of hell.

This is why I love the Jews.

We are alike in many ways.

Last night in Brooklyn, a 75-year-old Jewish man was pulled over in Brooklyn for talking on his cell phone (something I haven't learned to stop doing yet). According to witnesses, the NYPD was a little rough on Arthur Schick.

"They pushed Arthur against the car and physically manhandled him in a way unbefitting such a well-respected and liked member of the community," Widawsky said. "He shouldn't be treated like that."

Other witnesses and friends said it's possible Schick, a caterer of weddings and bat mitzvahs, didn't hear instructions from the officers because he uses a hearing aid. They said the police, who twisted Schick's arms behind his back, had overreacted."He was hard of hearing; he didn't hear what the cop said," said one man. "The cop pushed him down and started beating him or something. Then I was walking around here and the cops started spraying mace at me, started spraying mace all over. I was just walking by."

But this is where the Jews one-up the blacks. It took us how long after we saw the Rodney King tape for us to riot.

How long did it take the residents in Brooklyn?

90 minutes.

Let us learn from the Jewish community...

I have offically hit the Spring semester wall.

This is the first time I have done back to back semesters in school since 2002 because of illness and other circumstances and it's just now catching up to me.

I think it's for the fact that besides school and work, I decided to finally be active on campus.

What a big mistake that was.

My life is now filled with pointless meetings which all seem to start after 10PM for some reason.

Who decided meetings with black folks couldn't start till after 10?

I need a nap...

How did I live without TiVo for this long?

Seriously, if I only knew on what I was missing out on.

I got my TiVo on Saturday as a birthday gift to myself.

It was originally on my Christmas list to myself but I have been actually saving money for once in 06 so I put it off till now.

After waiting around all day for the FedEx man, he finally shows up at 3PM.

I tear open the sucker thinking it will take me five minutes to setup and get it started.

Wrong.

90 minutes later and after my girlfriend gave me a few choice words over it (burn!), I realized I might be TiVo less because my phone is not setup to make outgoing calls. Not even local calls.

So I go to Plan B which is to buy a USB Network Adapter and hope there is a wireless internet source around here that I can steal from.

After going to Best Buy, I get back, and I plug in the Adapter.

Everything looked to be working great...or so I thought.

The internet connection that I was "borrowing" kept failing on me.

All of this going on while I'm trying to get ready to go to Brooklyn to watch the NCAA Tournament (Damn you, George Mason)

Finally, the thing starts working as I'm on my way out the door and I figure I'll play with it later.

Just to make sure it was working, I record some nonsense in the middle of the night and everything came out on the up and up.

I have 80 hours to fill - I am sure it will be filled with nonsense I had no busy recording: Saved By The Bell reruns, Sportscenter, a random Mets vs. Pirates game instead of the essentials like The O.C.

But better than actually recording programs is you can pause live TV and rewind. This comes in handy during those pesky fire alarms when you are in the middle of watching something on TV and you have to vacate your room.

Ahhh, technology.

Isn't she lovely?