Do you have a master jam? Like a jimmy-jam song that gets stuck in your head you wake up in the morning and start singing it in the shower? Of course you do! We all do. At least all of us who have ears. Songs get stuck in your head because they can – because they’re made that way – and because music producers need to lace their pockets with more cash, yo.
Neveryoumind, I can’t believe with all my thrift-scoring I didn’t stumble upon this song sooner. Chalk it up to living under a rock I suppose. Thrift Shop is such a refreshing breeze through the stale halls of hip-hop. Is it me or are you tired of bitches, hoes, labels and cars too? Get a new topic, people. Of course Jay-Z is always Dougefresh, but the rest, or the most of what I hear in hip-hop today makes me yearn for the days of old: cheeky-rhymns, on-message empowerment and get-on-down-samples from the great soul-artisits of old. If we keep looking to the past – and complaining about the present – then I’m happy to say that Macklemore and Ryan Lewis are doing something about it.
I also want to add that thrift shopping is and always has been the best way to stay on top of style. Designers I know buy from vintage vendors I know because original thoughts are too risky. Borrowing from the past to make up the future is a lot cheaper when you have 1970’s pattern to pull from. Recycling is hip after all so why not make polyester tunic cotton? More breathable around a match, right? AND! may I just say that it’s not where you buy your clothes, or how much you pay for your clothes it’s simply how you ROCK your clothes which determines your swag and style.
It’s Grover Washington Jr yawl! Straight outta the pool and ready to blow a chlorine luggie in your direction. Yes indeedy. If you see this in the $0.99 bin of your local Goodwill, pick it up. Check it out. You’ll instantly be transported pool-side – because this Grover knows how to trim his beard and wear a gold chain right. The spittle of water off the chin is such a nice touch too. In fact I would touch this man – all the while reenacting my own action-porn flick because that’s exactly the kind of music made on Mister Magic. Um. Can we talk about that title? Mister Magic what? What kind of magic are we talking about here? Disneyland? Pixie-finger-dust? No matter. All I know is that you need to click on down to the video right here – because you will feel yourself transported to the sunnier days of 1975 when this album came on out, baby.
Hit it and prepare yourself for a long intro. Back in those days folks didn’t have as much ADHD as we do today. Brothers and sisters in music could take their time. Plan a 45 minute intro. Layer on rhythm like butter, you dig.
Here’s a little slide-your-front-seat-down-and-ride kind of track:
Under this pile is where I’m living.
Let me tell you. Life is curve-ball-jelly-roll sandwich and I got stuck right in the middle of its creamy-ass center. Keeping with the tradition of breaking my new year’s resolution in less than 12 days, I have once again neglected writing on this blog. What is so difficult about jotting down a thought or two during the day? I have 15,000,000 thoughts ping-ponging in my head on a daily basis and not an ounce of calm-down to sit at a computer and write. Yeah. Blame it on my ADD. Excuses only get you so far.
So far, I’ve been spending time sharpening my instinct. I think it’s important for all of us to share a little tete-a-tete with our inner voice from time to time. Lately mine has been on overdrive. I find myself occupied with my own head instead of keeping my eyes on the road. I live under a mountainous rock. I have no idea what’s happening on the outside world – which in turn makes me think I really have nothing interesting to say or share. I’m just being. There’s no style-tip with being – blogs are built on do-it-your-selfing. The only doing I’m digging is deciding whether or not to purchase another round of DJ equipment. That’s about it. Oh and I have a new favorite song that was released in 2012 instead of 1976. Progress not perfection, right.
I would tell you the adventure of how I broke into a friend’s hotel room and saved him from a diabetic coma because I had some Oodo-voodoo feeling, but you’d never believed me – even though it happened – last week. I learned a thing or two from that experience. Always listen to your gut because it takes more than a week eating Activia to do the trick. Maybe all those months spent in virtual hiding sitting on a meditation pillow worked. Or maybe and more likely, I’m just bat-shit CRA.
Anyway. Michelle Obama apparently got a haircut:
Reminds me of a certain-namesake-someone:
She’s on fire.
I would like to pass a word of thanks to the whistle-blowing-shady-lady-exposing-good-man-group, anonymous. It warms the cockles of my pessimistic heart to see protests being formed over the rape of a 16 year old girl. The outcry is by far, one of the largest I’ve seen. It’s turning my frown upside down and making me want to give social media a pat on the back.
If you don’t know what happened, here’s the rundown. A bunch of football-playing masochists decided to drug, rape and videotape and unconscious and helpless teenage girl. All the while cracking jokes about it. Here’s a video:
I’m telling you people, if you have a daughter, teach her martial arts and how to handle a knife. This kind of devil-may-care attitude towards violence and degradation of women makes me hope that if I ever have kids, I give birth to a son. I can’t imagine bringing a little lady-tiger into a world where gang rape is a contact-sport. Thank Goodness for groups like anonymous because without them, we would have never known this incident had occurred. What makes me feel good about this situation is the public’s reaction to it. Everyone seems to be a bit more horrified this time around then the average of 207,754 REPORTED victims that are sexually assaulted every year; rapes are down by 60% since when I was growing up. Back then you usually blamed the victim for being a tad too slutty or in the wrong place at the wrong time. That type blame-victim thinking has recycled itself with Steubenville case. I won’t even highlight some of the comments that have been made in the social-media stratosphere. Let’s just say I wouldn’t have any of the comment-makers over to my house for tea. Twitter actually suspended the occupy-Steubenville account (scroll down for the story on that smooth-move).
When I watch this video, I can’t help but wonder where these boys got such a sociopathic perspective? What are the coaches teaching these kids? That have physical prowess is a guaranteed-green light-to-go card? That what disturbs me the most. No one did anything. No one stopped anything even though they clearly knew what was going on. Maybe I’m old for saying this but when did we become so apathetic, so dis-involved, so uneasier to help the helpless around us? That’s a broad-ass term that doesn’t apply to most – just these guys? Who are their parents and why aren’t their parents teaching them a thing or two about how to treat a lady? When gang-rape becomes a joke it time for some reexamination. It seems these days, there’s a lot of that going on.
Hold the whip cream please.
I love how I post my New Year’s Resolutions and my last year’s resolutions on this blog and still can’t seem to keep any of them. Ha. Resolutions are another way that I lie to myself about accomplishing things. I call my resolutions a goal list. That way I can break it down into smaller more digestible parts. When I give myself smaller digestible parts, I am more inclined to get it done – hence giving myself the ability to pat my back sooner. For example, my resolution was to write at least 4 times a week. Well, here we are a week after the resolution. 1 article per week. Looks like I already broke my first resolution within 1 week of setting it. Or does it? If I’m up at 5:45 AM writing this, then I tell myself, look at you girl. Good job. You woke up at the crack of dawn to write a bunch of stuff that makes no sense because you’re tired. Well-done. Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.
I googled the Psychology of Resolutions and found this excerpt is from The Dr. Deb blog:
Research says that about 45% of the population make one or more resolutions at the onset of each New Year. Some of the top resolutions involve weight loss, exercising more, stopping smoking or drinking or other “bad” habits. Also popular are resolutions to manage finances better.
Psychologically speaking, the end of a year generally moves us to self-reflect. We think about what was good about the year. The moments that were trying or hard – and all of the moments in-between. The beginning of a New Year can represent a fresh clean slate, where we start anew. It can be a time of new found hope and motivation.
While a lot of people who make New Year’s resolutions generally find them hard to keep, research shows that making resolutions can be useful. People who make resolutions are 10 times more likely to attain their goals than people who don’t make any.
Well there you go. Tis’ better to make and break a New Year’s resolution than to not make one at all. I suppose that makes sense. Dr. Deb goes on to say that the best thing to do is break your goals into tangible (i.e. chewy and digestible) parts. I always think it’s good to have a goal or 12. After all, if you can’t reach one, there are 11 more to shoot for. I did manage to reach 1 chewy and digestible resolution. To eat less whip cream. I know. WTF. You’d be surprised. Whip cream to me is like chocolate to others. I don’t know if it’s the creamy enjoyment or the whip-it you get to do at the end that makes whip cream my downfall. Either way, I was out of control. So I quit over 9 days ago and started eating raspberry chocolate popsicles instead. Delicious.
New Year’s Resolutions are like late-night let-downs – you know, when you dial a particular sir who seems currently unavailable to meet your bootie-call munchies. Everything seems to be about getting laid and drinking champagne. I suppose that’s no different than my regular Saturday nights, but still…raising standards will be on my list of kick-to-the-curb-habits. In fact, now that I think about it, I have a lot I’d like to dispose come 2012.
1. Raising the bar without stepping foot into one.
2. Yoga is the new cocaine.
3. Maturity is more attractive than tattoos – unless tattoos are attached to a mutal-fund-bearing mature young man.
4. Paris: the city. But while we’re on the subject of Paris:
Learn it and learn it WELL.
5. Go back to school because now on top of high-college costs, one must have a Masters degree in order to make money. As they say, Smart is the new Rich. Indeed.
6. Occupy whatever you wish.
7. Enjoy life because according to the Mayan calendar, shit’s going hit the fan sooner than later.
Happy New Year!