The Corrections

Start

Shoutout to my godfather, the one and only Baba Steve, for pointing out something that no one else who read that Post article mentioned to me. I got misquoted. For those of you to whom it matters I never drink, smoke or do anything else while writing. There's an ambiguous quote in there that through poor phrasing implies that I do. Now with that out of the way I can get on to the many events of the weekend.

One

If you're Black, DO NOT try and throw a rooftop party in DUMBO. My neighbor and street analyst Deka and I sat on the stoop across from the building where some ambitious brothers thought that they were doing to invite 200 people to a rooftop in gentrified Brooklyn without problems. Needless to say I was only there for like 20 minutes, a cup in my hand from Brooke, the Bacardi courtesy of Anselm, wandering the space and faces of a cluster of pretty ambitious people set against the backdrop of the Manhattan skyline. Two DJs and a respectable bar. It could've been classic.

But white folks were having something in the same building. Cue the "Hi Hater!" right here. Three digits to the cops and it was getting shutdown. And when the crowd spilled into the street in front of the building, complete with the ancient art of drunken negro slapboxing and the closest lounge being conveniently closed for a "private" event, I felt like I was back in the West End of Atlanta on a Saturday.
All we needed was pimped out rides and a few more sets of gold and platinum grills.

I wasn't supposed to be out. I'm am under two fast-approaching deadlines. Plus I've got a novel to finish that I'm moving into the next phase on. I'm also generally in a place where I try to avoid any event that I need to be drinking to enjoy. The usual suspects have seen enough of me, and as I'm working hard to get back to where I was spiritually, there are a lot of things that just don't fit anymore.

But it was a series of cosmic coincidences that had brought me to said place and time. What I was there for got accomplished. But that didn't mean my brain isn't still full of things to think about.

Two:

I'm leaving for LA in the next few days, a two-week trip where I'll be doing a reading at Eso Won Books (Friday the 29th at 7pm for all my LA people). I'll take at least one meeting with a production company, another with an agent, and try to hang with a West Coast crew I have seen in almost two years. It's the closest thing to a vacation I've seen in a long while, and I'm looking forward to it, even though I'll be grinding all the way up to it and then through it and then after it. I'll get a reprieve somewhere, but for now, there's no rest for the weary. I'm also revisiting Coultrain's The Adventures of Seymour and am loving it far more the second time around.

Three:

Shoutout to my Mom. She got the job she wanted in the place she wanted. Shoutout to Laala, who's got a really great idea. Shoutout to Ifaniyi as he's on his way to Chi-town. Shoutout to the Creator for all of his blessings. I'm back on the grind like a modest mouse. Out.