Suspended in time...

Hmmm

If I made me a deal with some Iranians, got me some plutonium got a Delorean, fixed my flux capacitor, travelled back in time, kidnapped my dad, brought him back to the future (Get it? Get it?). The conversation I would like to have with him would be this... Do you think the summer of ‘69 is better than the summer of 09??

My Dad was born in 1938; I was born in 82… My dad if today was 1969; would have been 30... I am 26… I think we would have been able to have a sensible conversation about which year is better.

First of all, at this point in the year 1969, The United Kingdom had just severed diplomatic ties with Rhodesia (currently Zimbabwe) , my dad having grown up in a segregated Rhodesia, I am pretty sure would be happy to hear Robert Mugabe is currently the President of Zimbabwe^… I am pretty sure he would also be disappointed to hear that Robert Mugabe is STILL the President of Zimbabwe.

I think, my dad was probably a lot funkier than me^... the fro^ (currently trying to grow my own*) and the music^, dress sense was DEFINATLEY a lot cooler^. I can Imagine the distressed expression on his face after explaining to him what Autotune is^ (disclaimer: my dad is still alive and he still probably doesn’t know or care what Autotune is*, but I would like to imagine he was a lot cooler back in 69). I am sure he would be happy to hear Jay-Z is trying to kill Autotune* (then proceed to ask me why we would rely on a guy called J-Z^)

‘69 was the year of Woodstock, my Dad was Still in Zimbabwe at the time, but from what I Understand, Woodstock was all about expression and linking with like-minded people... Woodstock at the time was apparently about the Underground Movement. I think the ol man and me would have disagreed on the relevance of underground music, at the time back In Rhodesia, my dad was and still is a big Elvis fan… His current explanation has something to do with Elvis being big in Rhodesia with the white people AND the black people. I guess that’s pretty relevant… mentioning the Black Eyed Peas and Eminem would be silly as a rebuttal. I suspect my nonexistant son (if I have anything to do with it) will probably still be bumping Jimi Hendrix, sly and the family stone, The Who, etc, while current “pop” acts will be forgotten^.

The Beatles gave their last performance, in the summer of 69^, and Michael Jackson died in 09*.

My dad and I are both not Native New Yorkers, but both lived\live here*^… But as far as integration goes, in the summer of 09, I can say that my Mayor is Jewish, Governor is Black and so is my President!***********************

At this point in the conversation, my dad would call me a liar!!!!!!!!!!!**

I admit that walking on the moon is cool^^… I am pretty sure he would be disappointed that no one has been there since^, (considering a 99c calculator bought today could have powered the Apollo mission^).

The iconic (fluke) Woodstock festival came to be ... which apparently inspired a generation^.

In this era, we don’t have a Woodstock, or burning guitars^, but we have a Facebook*, Myspace, YouTube*, Twitter* and the Bloggers***. The generation is alive, we are not relying on a few icons (I – the blogger was even the Time man of the year at one point)...

We are more connected. We don’t need a Woodstock!

I think that if we had to ask my (currently non-existent) son in which era he would have rather lived in I am sure he would chosen this one… We don’t have a Woodstock, but more and more people have blog’s (none as good as this one!) but still we are here, more international, universal. More connected than ever before.

Where I will concede victory for ‘69 is the financial situation… Bank’s keep on telling us they have insufficient funds when we try and withdraw money from our accounts^^^

Stillll…. I would rather be here (09) than there (69)…

(Obama will fix the insufficient fund problem)


I wonder what my non-existent Kids would think if they ever saw this, in 2039^







* Point to me
^ Point to Dad

I'm sorry

My sweetest Berry, I'm sorry…


I really am, you are my love… my passion…

Without you, I now see that my life is meaningless, I am an empty vessel without you… I was stuck to you, just like glue... I never thought I would have ever (and ever ever) let you go…

I remember first hearing about you, I was a little pessimistic at first, and I was thinking this is just too good to be true... I heard about your problems… constant non-responsiveness, switching off. I remained faithful to you, you kept on trying to better yourself, upgrading yourself (it's a shame i would only hear about these things through third parties, and not officially)

I remember being excited waiting for you to get delivered to me (much to the chagrin of my friends). I will never forget that day; I kept on looking outside to see if you had arrived... When I finally heard the bell ring and welcomed you, that was the end of it all for me...

I remember getting aquatinted… playing with you… exploring you… discovering you…
Learning you… introducing you to my social networks…

I admit there where others, but none have ever been able to compare… I am with the others now… but you are still on my mind; I would give them all up just to get you back.

I went through you to access my bank accounts, news, and email, to be honest I even screened my friends based on if they where cool with you or not!!!

We did shady things together, fun things, when I was lost you showed me the way. I miss you my friend, companion, confidant; you kept me in touch with the world…, which in turn helped me, connect to myself!

You are my first thought when I wake up. Work, life, boring events all of it was only bearable because I had you by my hip, I should have paid more attention to you… been more vigilant… How I let, you get involved with this guy Mohammed I don’t know. I woke up today looked for you, got confused then I remembered I lost you...











Now if only this Mohammed mafacka could just return you… Before I get paid and just upgrade to a frigging Blackberry Tour… (Or pay the damn $50 for an insurance replacement)...

Stupid Phone!!!!!!!

and this is what happens when you claim to be the Tung

Poor kid didn't know...

And let that be a warning to you all!

What who where, why.... how?

“When I am alone in my room* sometimes I look at the wall, and in the back of my mind I hear my conscious call….”

And hear it saying… why are you a follower of your own blog??? And why do you click like on your own status messages on facebook???

Only nincompoops** follow this blog...



* yes my apartment is a room.
** My first fav word, about age 7 I think (thank you Peter Sellers/inspector cluseau)
*** On that note I used to respect but now despise you Steve Martin!!!!!!!!!

Welcome

hmm

First of all… I would like to re-introduce* you to my new (old) blog***...

Which is poised to be the most fascinating, grammatically challenged, exhilarating, mildly intoxicating and undeniably most awesomely awesome, badass ridiculously captivating waste of space on the net.

No but really on a more serious note… calling it merely a waste of space on the net, would be uncharacteristically undermining the undulating uber uniform unity of the ubiquitous ultra uncompromising universal unity of the undiluted underground unashamedly usurping united universally urban urgent way of saying it is a stupendously stupefyingly stunning saturated source of well… saying I am bored!

Now I just need to find something to blog about.




* I am still African, so the blog really starts a few posts in**..
** much like how if you are expecting me to meet up w u at 11, u better say 10 so that I am only going to be 15 minutes late!
*** I seem to have moved on from all that sob sob ex gf stuff (and unpublished those entries)

Is it a bird? Is it a plane?

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No, it is just me… The people’s blogger… Do not be worried my people, I got you!

I know that I have only just put up one post. Rest assured When I am in Los Angeles this time next week, wearing my BLUE* and Red bandana chilling in Compton, I will. CONSIDER ending gang violence.

Truth is I just wana hit Compton, and JOG at more than 100miles an hour, just to show them that NY still runs this country.

Damn I love my city!!

Movies tell me that L.A is filled with fake people… Kinda like the dude that sold out in the Matrix…sold out to think he was eating real chicken…
Seriously, a town filled with fake humongous boobies, asses and faces, that look amazing, why even go???

Honest truth is, I fear the flying… Not the actual flying... but the processs. Waiting delays… security…. Etc … Throw in the fact that I cannot sleep or read while in transit.

My other fear is that I will be mobbed by all the celebs that are going to bombard me at the airport**, and I will not be able to do all the things I wana do… Like just get away from the city (New York).

I have not left New York in a while… I mean I have been out of the country a few times***.

I am excited, I hope they have internet out there in California****, gna go to Sacramento, San Francisco, Oakland and Las Vegas. Hopefully I will see my first international game when the Sacramento Kings play against a foreign team***.

Point is I am excited!







* No reference intended to people whose blogs are bout baby blue things.
** Much like yaaal reading this trying to get my autograph
*** New Jersey
**** Consider this... they are afraid of Arnold... and terminator came out in the 80’s
***** Please have a sense of humor or stop reading the blog.