1. Why the hell is it so hard for restaurants to understand that I
don't want cheese on my orders? I ate at 3 straight restaurants with
burgers and asked all 3 to give me NO cheese and ALL 3 gave me cheese.
Hell, one gave me EXTRA cheese and the other two gave me a different
kind of cheese than the one that went with the order. I DONT EAT THE
ISH, OK?! Judge me all you want, but make my order correctly!
2.
At almost 30 years old, the “M-bomb” no longer refers to telling a fly
young lady that I went to that school on the hills in Atlanta, GA. Now?
It refers to the exchanging of vows, jewelry, and a handing over of
one’s testicles.
Yeah… THAT word.
I had two close homies get engaged, including Big Cuz; one of my ace boon coons get married; and three ex's (and probably around 6-10 women that I just used to smash) go down that path. I finally reached that age where I felt like "Everyone is getting married!"
No pressure though.
3.
I was recently shopping in Target, looking for Twister when a
particular scene in the toys section caught my eye. There was a young
white boy, maybe 8-9 years old, and his mother who were looking at a
variety of toys. The mom was calmly taking them off the shelves, asking
him if he liked each one, then adding the ones he liked into the cart.
Did you catch that? “Ones” As in MORE than one.
That
ish NEVER happened to me. Even if I wanted Q-Tips as toys, I NEVER had
the luxury of being a big baller in the toy section unless I brought my
own money.
Just another perk of…
4. What do YOU call the non drummette, non tip part of a chicken wing? I've only heard them called "flats" in ATL
5.
There is great humor in noting how women pick up on men’s habits. Once
they’ve been around you long enough, they have a pretty good idea of how
you function, and ANY deviation from the “norm” is looked at as
atypical – even if it’s something you SHOULD be doing! I remember
cleaning up my room one day when my roommate stopped me.
“Ay, homie. You got some new poon coming through or something? Don’t clean up TOO much or your girl may suspect something!”
Damn… Good idea. Lemme put these clothes back on the floor…but in a neat pile like I’m going to wash them.
6. Do NOT tell a woman that she's unclean during her period because the Bible said so. Trust me.
7. I’d completely forgotten about my anatomical discovery!
Do
you remember the piece on “The Domestic Zone”? It’s that well known but
little talked about erogenous zone within the vagina that, when
properly stimulated, causes women to have strong urges to cook, clean,
and handle other domestic duties at odd hours of the night.
Her: Hey! Do you want some breakfast?
Him: (looks around) Now? At 5am?
Her: Oh… No, not necessarily now, but maybe later?
Him: Yeah… Breakfast would be awesome… later.
Seek and ye shall find!
8.
If you have female friends, your woman will want to meet them. Somehow
that makes them feel safer about the friendship. Men, on the other hand,
don’t give a damn about his lady’s male friends. He doesn’t trust any
of them niggas.
9. Speaking of reflections on life and how
things change, one very polarizing topic for men across the ages is the
menstrual cycle. My boys and I were laughing recently in thinking about
how texts between us would differ about that infamous red dot depending
on our age.
(
Boy 1: Wassup man? How’d it go?
Boy 2: Man, it was some BS! She’s on her period!
Boy 1: Damn… Sorry bro. That ish is GROSS
(21+ year old exchange)
Man 1: Wassup man? How’d it go?
Man 2: Dawg, she got her period!
Man 1: YES!!! Hi five!
10. I hate every single one of you people who fight to park close to the gym - you're going to workout!
11. Black people are VERY serious about playing dominoes and playing Taboo. Stuff can get real intense.
12.
If you don’t hang around many of them, you may be very surprised to
hear the frequency with which professional Black women discuss kegels.
It’s… (sigh)
13. You shouldn’t really be worried, but I’ve lately had really funny experiences when I’d take a nap while mildly inebriated….
Story #1:
After a nap, before which I don’t remember much, I woke up to find a
half bottle of Bacardi rum, a speculum (yes the ones used for pelvic
exams... It was clean/unused), and two one dollar bills. …I have no good
explanations for this one.
Story #2: I
laid down to rest my weary, big head before going out. Before dozing
off, I noted how fresh my sheets smelled. I. Was. Infatuated! I rubbed
my sheets and inhaled deeply, like “OMG! These smell amazing! Did I wash
these recently?” I can’t say the smell didn’t help me sleep better. I
woke up 45 minutes later, and the first thing I saw was the box of
Bounce fabric softener 6” from my nose.
Alcohol is a helluva drug…
14.
Dallas BBQ, I will miss thee. Not just for the food or the drinks but
mainly because of the discussions that the atmosphere really
facilitated. The most recent example involved a discussion on open
marriage. The general consensus was interesting.
Ultimately
the answer was somewhere between "no" and "yes... with a small caveat."
Basically all men would be ok with being with other women. Half of us
would NOT be ok with our woman being with another man. A quarter of that
remainder would be ok with her being with someone else. And the rest
would allow her to be with other men so long as she understood we would
desire her much, much less. As in not at all.
15. What
happened over the last 10-15 years that made "the sag" so much more
dramatic? When it first became popular, it was simply a good portion of
underwear showing, but the topic was still above the mid-ass point.
Niggas now sag to just above the knees now, with the nerve to wear
shorts to cover up the draws - Nigga WHY?!
16. I had an Indian cab driver the other day (as in from India but who still refers to Native Americans as such?) who was on the phone (yes, despite that big black sign that says they shouldn't be)
ordering chicken tika. I should've asked him which restaurant he
ordered from. When people of a particular ethnicity go to a restaurant
that sells their native foods, you can usually gauge that it's legit.
That's for sure how I pick my Asian food (and not just by how many Southeast Asians work there). You'll never see Mexicans ordering Taco Bell and you'll damn sure never see me eating fried chicken from Sylvia's...again.
17.
I feel sorry for women sometimes, especially the single ones. Men can
often put you in a catch 22 situation from jump. We may come at you with
some hard game with the intent of getting the panties, only to turn
around and not take you seriously and question your decision making
abilities because you fucked with us.
18. Why do men in tight shirts or skinny jeans roll in crews? Seriously, you rarely see one by himself. They're like ants.
19. Tracey Edmonds must have that good-good... What old celebrity hasn't been with her? Hopefully not Magic Johnson... :-/
20. There is a strain of marijuana in Cali called "Whitney Houston OG Kush" because "it's that KILLER!"
Way, way, way too soon, fellas. Way too soon.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Random Thoughts: If I Don't Make Eye Contact, Then My Elbow Was Unintentional
Posted by Dr. Feelgood at 3:30 PM 0 comments
Labels: alcohol, chicken, dallas bbq, indian food, magic johnson, period, ron artest, sagging, skinny jeans, tracey edmonds, whitney houston
I Can't Wait to Talk to My Son...
First of all, let me make it clear that I have no children, and I’m in no hurry to make any!
Now that I’ve said that, let’s get to my point.
I can’t wait to have children (read: sons… cause I do NOT want daughters).
I think seeing what a little version of me would look like, act like,
take interest in – all those things. I can definitely foresee many ass
whippings and chewing outs for doing something stupid, but I also
foresee many instances to teach, to play, and for sure to love. While I
can only imagine how different his generation will be, with regards to
technology, social issues, and other important matters, I’m CERTAIN that
he will encounter one issue every man in my family before him
encountered: The futile attempt to understand women.
(sighs) I can see it so clearly.
I can imagine him finally breaking the ice and divulging his interest in some cutie in his English class with really nice hair (not necessarily “good” hair, for the self hating out there),
a pretty face, a nice tail – I’m certain my son will be an ass-man
between my influence and that of his many “uncles” – and a sparkling
personality. I can imagine hearing his thoughts on ways to impress her
or catch her eye, of course in some respectable boy-in-love fashion,
hopeful and certain that it will surely work. And because I’m a huge
proponent of learning by doing (and because Schadenfreude is AWESOME), I’m gonna push him to do all those things and try them out and GUARANTEE that they’ll work.
And yes, I’m going to laugh my ass off when it doesn’t.
I
can totally see him coming home, dropping his backpack to the ground
like his life force had been sucked from him, his eyes unable to look
upwards toward the heavens or his father, red and bulging from the tears
fighting to escape his eyes, unable to talk.
“Daddy…” he’d say in a frail, defeated tone.
I’d probably have to punch myself in the chest to remind myself that he’s actually hurting and wouldn’t appreciate my being humorous at the moment.
“Yes, son?” I’d say as calmly and lovingly as possible.
“She… She didn’t like it. She doesn’t like ME. She said I was ‘too nice.’ That she sees me as ‘husband material.’ She only likes me as a ‘friend.’”
He’d flop down beside me on the couch, head still hanging, a solo tear running down his chin like a slave toward freedom.
“Dad… I don’t understand women.”
I’d
lean over and put one arm around his shoulder to pull him closer and
punch him in the shoulder with the other free hand, smiling at my son’s
coming of age.
“Son… I don’t either. But your realizing that is the first step to becoming a man.”
He’d sniffle and wipe his eyes, probably ashamed to let his father see his weakest moment.
“What should I do, Dad? What do you know about women?”
Dammit. The worst possible question to ask an older man… but a great opportunity to spread personal beliefs.
“I don’t know much, son, but I do know these things…”
1.
Accept that you are always in the wrong. Always. Will your arguments
be sound? Probably – you’re my son. Will her arguments be very emotional
and not sound? Not always, but more often than not, yes. But you’ll
still be wrong. And at some point you won’t even care about being right.
You’ll just want peace, which usually amounts to getting her to shut
up.
2. When you need your woman to be somewhere at a certain
time, lie to her. Tell her an earlier time because she’s going to be
late. If she needs to be somewhere at 730, tell her you have to be there
by 630 so she’ll be ready by 7. Why can’t she be on time? I don’t know.
But much like #1, that won’t matter.
3. Accept that Yes/No questions are NOT acceptable. They won’t understand that the answer should be one of those things.
4. Which leads me to my next point: Women have an essential, maddening need to argue. About everything. Often. You have to argue or be upset to show her you care. Sure, you could just be happy, but that wouldn’t do it for her. You’ve gotta raise your voice, throw shit around, slam doors, and curse to make her feel loved. I personally understand this the least of all these things on the list.
5. And if you listen to none of these previous things, you must take heed to this next one: Never, ever, ever talk about other women around your woman of interest. Women are super competitive creatures and she will ultimately lead you into a comparison conversation that you will absolutely lose. Unless you lie to her.
6. Avoid lying to women...unless you're lying to make sure she's on time for something. You’ll have to at some point to save your ass, but try to avoid lying to them.
I know he won’t take it all in at that moment. I’m sure that when I look down to see if he’s listening, he’ll have already left to his room long ago. I’ll just laugh to myself, look over to my wife on the other side of the couch, who’ll likely be mean-mugging the hell out of me, and continue watching tv.
But in my heart, I’ll hope he learned something.
Posted by Dr. Feelgood at 2:21 PM 0 comments
Labels: arguments, black women, children, relationships
Trayvon Martin: An All (African) American Experience
In the age of “Trending Topics” on Twitter and the infinite “shared
items” on Facebook, it’s easy for a potentially big story to pass you
by, especially if you’re one of those people who has the misfortune to
be friends with or to follow someone who posts long streams of nonsense
or celebrity gossip. I was among those ranks when I passed over the
story of Trayvon Martin days ago. The fact that I hadn’t heard of him
prior to then didn’t necessarily alert me to the possibility that maybe
this story was something atypical and worthwhile. I instead erred on the
side of assuming it was another rapper or rap group – do you know how
long it took me to figure out Travis Porter was a group? – that I hadn’t
heard of and didn’t want anything to do with this new movement. Unlike
most other pop culture trends, Trayvon’s name didn’t go away. If
anything, I began seeing it on CNN, Yahoo News, and the New York Times,
and it made me pause, click, and read.
About 30-60 seconds into reading his story, I kinda laughed to myself and shook my head.
Back
in the summer of 2005 while roaming the rugged streets of New Haven,
Connecticut, I was struggling to come up with a topic or angle to take
for my upcoming personal statement to medical school. I’d already
written a typical, autobiographic piece that talked about who I was,
where I was from, and why I wanted to pursue medicine, one that made the
writing instructor who was helping me with this endeavor shake his head
and tell me “Go deeper, more personal. Tell them something important
about YOU.” After about two more weeks of thinking and throwing around
ideas, I had an argument with a close friend that led my very tangential
and circumspect mind to crank out the rough and final draft of my
personal statement, which addressed who I was at the very core of ways
to define me, both for myself and for others: I wrote about how I was
the “big Black man” to most people who saw me and the ramifications of
that in my life.
Not surprisingly, when I let other people
read it, it made them uncomfortable. They used words like “very strong”
and “very personal” but many who edited it, all of whom were college
professors, felt that it would leave people feeling bad or guilty for
being able to relate to the stories I told in my statement. The writing
instructor, a large, elderly Polish man, said himself, “I LOVE this
piece and want to share it with my class, but you’ve really got to ask
yourself if you want to send out something SO personal that it makes
people uncomfortable.” I respected his honesty as well as the honesty of
the others who gave me input prior to my uploading and submitting my
piece, but I felt that this story told who I was best while also selling
how dedicated I would be as a clinician.
I was a 21 year
old biology student with a 3.87 GPA, >95th percentile MCAT score,
wearing a Yale School of Medicine sweatshirt the first time I was deemed
“suspicious looking.” The next time was at age 27 when I was looking
for a doctor’s office and an office worker, who couldn’t see my Columbia
University student badge, called security to ask me what I was doing
and where I was going since I seemed to be looking around for something
and looked “suspicious.” Imagine their shock when they realized I was a
student. Chances are, if you talk to any Black man, be he highly
educated at an Ivy League institution or a 17 year old boy simply
walking from a convenience store with Skittles for a sibling, you’re
likely to find that he has at least ONE story about being labeled
“intimidating” or “suspicious” for no reason other than he is Black. If
you spoke to a Black woman, she may tell you about being asked if she
were a prostitute or described in a whorish fashion just because she is
shapely and Black – it’s not always correlated to how she’s dressed
either. My Hispanic, Asian, and Middle Eastern friends would all have
similar stories about some stereotyped harassment that they’ve endured
simply by being in a particular place at a particular time, which is to
say a large part of the population in the US has experienced some type
of racial discrimination in their lifetime. Having accepted this as
fact, why is it that we STILL have not as of March 20, 2012 had an
HONEST discourse about the role of race in American society? We’ve been
ok with avoiding being “uncomfortable” for far too long. Trayvon is just
one of numerous instances we all can name in the past 10 years alone
where race was clearly (or at least likely) the sole motivating factor
behind something heinous, be it a judgment, a charge, or an assault. We
are burying people and imprisoning people for life, many times unjustly
so, because of their race…but we’re too afraid to talk about it. This
has to stop, people.
Next to the election of President
Barack Obama, the most inspiring thing I’ve seen in my adult life was
the movement that took place when banks wanted to start charging clients
a fee for using their debit cards. The airwaves and Facebook and
Twitter came to life with people outraged about this BS the banks were
trying to pull on people, and people ACTED on it. They threatened to
leave, to do something that would directly harm the cause of something
ridiculous being forced upon them. They mobilized and took a stand and
WON. Think about it: How long after introducing the idea of charging
for debit use did people effectively get it eradicated? But we won’t
talk about and address race, something that’s affected many more for
much longer with bigger ramifications than a monthly charge? This is
ridiculous. We’ve gotta take action. We’ve gotta talk. We’ve got to
protest. We’ve got to do more than put up a poignant Facebook status or
support an ailing family with a hashtag. We’ve got to do more than sign a
petition with no power or watch the news and voice our anger to those
we know feel the same we do. We’ve gotta do MORE and SOON before this
country erupts in a very violent way like it does in all other great
civilizations, just before their downfall.
Posted by Dr. Feelgood at 2:12 PM 0 comments
Labels: America, Florida, Stand your ground, Trayvon Martin
Monday, September 12, 2011
Unaccepting of Change
Posted by Dr. Feelgood at 2:45 PM 0 comments
Saturday, April 16, 2011
NBA Action! It's FANTASTIC!!!
In honor of the NBA playoffs starting today, here's a look back at some of the top plays of the regular season.
Posted by AIR at 7:12 PM 0 comments
Labels: Basketball, fantastic, NBA, playoffs, top ten
Saturday, April 02, 2011
The Rich Keep Getting . . . Well, You Know the Rest.
Remember this clip the next time you are having your review at work and your boss states there is no money for your raise because the company isn't doing well financially. I'm not saying that you directly impugn their veracity; but if you silently think, "Bullsh*t!", I'll totally understand.
Posted by AIR at 7:00 PM 0 comments
Labels: economy, hypocrisy, rachel maddow, Taxes, Wall Street
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Dr. Laura Schlessinger and The Dreaded N-word
I'm sure you've heard all about it, but just in case you haven't, here's a quick recap.
Recently, radio personality Dr. Laura Schlessinger addressed a call from a faithful listener that led to a heated, rather one sided dicussion of race, hypersensitivity among African Americans as relates to race, and the dreaded N-word and its derivations.
(If you want to hear the dialogue for yourself, this blog has both audio clips and a transcript of the conversation: http://mediamatters.org/blog/201008120045 )
The caller was a Black woman who was married to a White man. She called in to discuss how displeased she was with how her spouse would handle some of the racially charged questioning she would endure when near her White family members and how she felt she was being attacked. Dr. Laura then goes on to minimize the caller's feelings, to call her and many other Black Americans "hypersensitive" and "lacking a sense of humor" as relates to certain comments and stereotypes about Blacks. And really at this point, she was fine with most listeners though approaching the point where many Blacks are thinking "I... I kinda wanna fight this wench."
Then came the N-word.
CALLER: How about the N-word? So, the N-word's been thrown around --
SCHLESSINGER: Black guys use it all the time. Turn on HBO, listen to a black comic, and all you hear is "nigger, nigger,nigger." ...I don't get it. If anybody without enough melanin says it, it's a horrible thing; but when black people say it, it's affectionate. It's very confusing.
Shortly thereafter, the caller, who is clearly in "HEY! THAT'S RACIST!" mode is now clearly offended and Dr. Laura, as so many whites with airtime do when in a racial situation, digs herself in a bigger hole by repeating the word nigger enough times to be considered Kramer's comedic assistant.
As you can imagine, it didn't go over well.
In the fallout following this particular call, Dr. Laura Schlessinger apologized for her use of nigger and, subsequently, resignated from her post as radio talk show host and her contract was cancelled (or some stuff like that). In this time, numerous people - mostly Blacks - have had to revisit the age old topic of the use of the term nigger and its derivations, who should use it (if anyone), and why it pisses people off so much when Whites use the term.
...I mean, if there were ever a great topic for discussion, this is it!
1) Should we still be using the N-word?
This is the most pressing question that needs to be addressed, so I made it first. Obviously.
And the short answer to this question? No, we shouldn't.
Do you remember when you were young and limited by what things you could and couldn't say to or around your parents? Do you remember what would happen if some obscenity or some otherwise deemed inappropriate word was said in their presence? Some parents went as far as to wash their children's mouths out with soap (which is a little...special, in my opinion) with the point being that what was said was bad and inappropriate should not be said, right? Fast forward to now, where many of us and our peers have children that we're trying to raise to be decent, contributing, functional members of society. With our understanding that the parents are often the most influential people in a child's life (at least until the time they start watching BET), we make the very conscious effort to watch our language in the company of young children, hoping not to create in their minds the idea that using such otherwise forbidden words is ok, namely because you don't want to be embarrassed when you're out with company and your frustrated child says "FUCK!" at the top of his lungs.
...aaaaaaawkwaaaaaaaaard!
So, of course, when this does happpen, you reprimand your child (also known as "beat that ass") and educate them that there are certain words that are inappropriate to say, such as curse words.
Would you want your child to say the N-word in front of company? Most of you would answer "no." The natural follow-up question then is: Why would you use the word if you didn't want your children to? Anyone with children or younger siblings will tell you that children are masterful imitators of what they see and hear and not always what they are told. The point inherent in your avoidance in using the term in their presence is, obviously, that the term is bad and shouldn't be used. If you wouldn't want your offspring, your physical, living legacies to use a word that has such a connotation that they could be punished for merely uttering such in your presence, why on earth would you use it yourself? Would you smoke in front of your children and tell them not to? Get drunk in front of them and say don't drink? I can't speak for you all, but I duckin HATED it when my parents would tell me not to do something and then do it right in front of me. It made me wonder what the hell was so special about them that I couldn't use the word if I wanted to.
Speaking of being jealous that you can't use a word...
2) Should we be mad when White - or any other - people use the word?
Now, there's sooooo much that can be said in response to this question, so I won't be able to touch on it all. But it's yet another damned good question that should be answered. Should you be upset with Randolph lets the word "nigger" slip from his lips in regards to the dancing buffoon with sagging jeans and a Lebron James jersey on who bumps into him while dancing on the subway? I mean, were YOU thinking "That n____ over there dancing on the subway with a jersey on is a n____"? So why be upset when they use it, especially if you're inclined to agree?
Oh... I see. You want to know why White people feel this need to use the word to begin with. Gotcha
I will admit. It is rather funny to hear [some] white people complain about how they aren't "allowed" to use this word. You've enslaved several races and oppressed them beyond imagination and have a hand in every profitable thing in existence and are the leaders and owners and designers of just about everything around us... but you pitch a fit about being unable to have a little "nigger" in the morning with your coffee and your New York Times, ha? Interesting.
All silliness aside, it's no wonder others want to use it. Just like every other taboo or unhealthy practice you can think of, when you've been told you shouldn't do something, human nature is just designed in a way to make you want to do it even more and get an even bigger rush from doing it. Don't act like it's a brand new phenomenon. Whether it was sneaking out your house, or talking on the phone after 11pm, or taking a sip of beer or wine or bourbon from your dad's bottle in the fridge when you were 16 or 17 without his knowing, or, hell, we can go back to GENESIS where that gotdamn woman ate off that gotdamn tree that she KNEW she wasn't supposed to and got this whole ball of Hell rolling, people LOVE doing what they're told they shouldn't. Why should White people be the exception? You want to ensure something is done? Tell someone they can't do it and follow up "Why not?" with some poorly conceived explanation about owning Blackness and whatever whatever, since we've already established it was a bad word anyway...
3) Should the N-word still have so much power?
I hear this question a lot. And I think it's kinda stupid to debate, personally, but I'm sure someone will want to so I'm including it on the list.
Debating words meanings are pointless because the significance of EVERY word is decided upon by the people and forever holds its given power. The word "love" is just that as well - a word. But what makes "love" significant isn't the four letters in said sequence but the idea that the word represents. The same applies for "nigger." And whether you want to admit it or not, you know what the word "nigger" implies. You just don't want to accept it. And that's where the failure is. Besides, if we begin to remove the meaning from one word, what's to stop us from removing the meaning from other words? Or hell, from all words? I mean, as a man, that'd be great because then we'd be justified in not paying attention to whatever women say since nothing from their mouths would have meaning.
Damn... That's a good idea!
Final Thought:
I'll leave you with a story and a quote that came to mind when I heard this debate initially.
In her conversation with Dave Chappelle regarding the use of "the n-word," Dr. Maya Angelou offered him this thought:
"I perceive that a word is a thing. It is nonvisible and audible only for the time that it's there. It hangs in the air. But I believe it goes into the upholstery and into the rugs and into my hair, into my clothes, and finally even into my body. I look at the word, the 'n-word,' which I really have no oblige to call it that, because it was created to divest people of their humanity. Now when I see a bottle come from the pharmacy, it says p-o-i-s-o-n. And then there's skull and bones. Then I know that the content of that thing - the bottle is nothing - but the content is poison. If I pour that content into Bavarian crystal... it is still poison."
Richard Pryor, while in New Orleans, explains a night in Africa where something, "a voice" he called it, got him to change his mind on the use of the N-word. I'd type out the text, but I really think it has more power if you hear him and see the seriousness in his face and in his voice:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rThK85uXFMw
Two people with two very different outlooks on life - and language, for sure - came to the same conclusion on the word's usage - that it SHOULDN'T be used by anyone. Hell, even Paul Mooney, who claimed he used to say "nigger" 50 times each morning to keep his teeth white, has stopped using the term in light of Kramer's blast a few years back. And I'm inclined to agree with them all. Fact is, the mirror is often a painful reminder of how far we all have to go as a people and as conscientious adults, and the use of the n-word by whites is a constant reminder that, basically, many of us are still messin up. I'm not mad at Dr. Laura. She's human, just like the rest of us, and she wants to fulfill that urge to tap into the taboo like anyone else would. The bottom line: No matter how it's packaged, no matter who says it, "nigger" and its dressed up derivatives is still a very ugly, dangerous word. And for good reason, given its origin. It's best left alone. Don't try to justify it. Don't try to dress it up. Just... don't. It's better in the end.
And when you see that Black person again on the subway, or in the street, or wherever they are, doing something that brings the N-word to the tip of your tongue, why not just call them what they are?
Ignorant.
Posted by Dr. Feelgood at 12:41 PM 1 comments
Monday, August 16, 2010
Female Friends, Friends “by Default,” and Healing A [Woman’s] Broken Heart
Posted by Dr. Feelgood at 8:57 PM 0 comments
Monday, July 05, 2010
Going, Going, Back, Back to Cali, Cali?
There is an excellent documentary, Sonicsgate, on the last days of the Seattle Supersonics (now the Oklahoma City Thunder and one of the most promising young teams in the NBA). The film begins gradually giving a history of all of the sports teams in Seattle. This part is something that is probably only interesting if you have some connection to the Pacific Northwest; however, it is necessary to set the foundation for what has become a crucial issue in sports today: the public financing of the palatial athletic cathedrals in which these teams play. The vast majority of current facilities seem to place more emphasis on the peripheral entertainment experience (shopping, restaurants, and amusement for the kids) than on the actual sporting contest. As someone who has worked in both the public and private sector and at one point specifically in the area of economic development, I can attest that it is rare that the public receives the full return (jobs, infrastructure, tax revenue) promised by the private the investors. In this current era of economic uncertainty, it just perpetuates the concept of public risk and private gain. When the story shifts to this argument with a peek at the behind the scenes machinations that ultimately led to the relocation to OKC is when the documentary really starts to shine. Some of the highlights or lowlights include the following:
- The political leadership of the City of Seattle and the Washington State assembly was über weak. They thought they were being tough guys, but at the end of the day got played.
- The Sonics “vanity owner” Howard Schultz (of Starbucks fame) sold the team to OKC businessmen who “promised” to keep the team in Seattle, except for one small problem: they specifically barred anyone from Seattle from being part of the ownership group. (C’mon Son! GTFOOHWTBS! You knew them cats weren’t keeping the team in Seattle after they did that!)
- OKC’s ownership group was a bunch of immoral individuals who would do or say whatever was necessary to position the team to move. Also of note considering current events, they were heavily connected to the oil industry. (Need I say more?)
- NBA commissioner David Stern is as big of a jackass as we all thought. He may also be secretly gay (you’ll understand when you see the film), not there is anything wrong with that. More than anything, it showed that the NBA front office acted in extremely bad faith in dealing with Seattle.
- Finally there is a gut-punching scene at the end, which I will not give away, but any former Sonics fan will want to go burn down city hall and the state assembly building in Washington or the Ford Center in OKC after the revelation. Seriously, they will.
You can watch the whole movie below or check it out in HD on the official site Sonicsgate.org. The website also has a hilarious trailer about a random city preparing to steal your team.
Posted by AIR at 8:02 AM 0 comments
Labels: david stern, lebron james, minnesota vikings, NBA, nfl, nhl, oklahoma city thunder, public financing, seattle supersonics, sonicsgate