I made my first one almost 25 years ago. I believe it was 85 or 86. I took this silver boombox I had and I put it up against the television to record the music. Yep, I recorded straight from the television. There was so much fuzzy noise in the background that the songs didn’t come out so great plus my mom or my sister would walk into the room start talking or make some other kind of sound to “ruin” the whole thing. It was far from perfect but I did have the songs I loved and could listen to then whenever I wanted.
Before too long fuzzy noise and constant interruption became one drawback too many so it got to the point that I sneaked out into the living room after everyone went to sleep to record the music. It was a perfect setup. My parents' room was all the way in the back of this long narrow house. If I could keep the volume reasonable, there was no way, save an unexpected bathroom visit from someone, that I could be caught.
It was also perfect because in those days MTV played videos 24 hours a day. If I wanted to record Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer (just an example song, like I’d ever record THAT, wink wink) it was usually on every 60-90 minutes, even in the middle of the night. In fact all of my favorite songs were played heavily. Hungry Like the Wolf, Karma Chameleon, Caribbean Queen, Summer of 69, Billie Jean, Panama, Manic Monday, Hold Me Now, and many others comprised those first mixtapes. I call it a mixtape because I didn’t record every song that came on. I only recorded the ones I liked so there was a choice involved. Choosing the songs to put on the tape= mixtape. With the songs, I believe many of them were missing the first few notes if the music started right away in the video. There was only so fast I could recognize the video and press down play and record at the same time.
Soon I wised up and was taking tracks off of FM radio. They almost played as many cool songs as MTV did. I would record my favorites and they were much better quality than the ones recorded from the television. I wasn’t as ashamed to share them with friends, although the recording process was more difficult due to station IDs and dopey DJs talking over either the beginning or ends of some songs. Sometimes a song would have to be scrapped because the DJ talked over the fade out at the end of the song. So close! Often if a particular DJ did such a thing I’d change the station. That would show him! In those days there were at least 2 if not 3 or more stations that played the same hits. It wasn’t as specific as it can be now.
As the 90’s began I started to amass a cassette collection and subsequently those became the source for future mixtapes. Sometimes I could record the tracks so cleanly from tape to tape that you couldn’t even hear the click between songs. People would be impressed. It was like the songs just went together naturally. I was a poor man’s DJ.
As we got a few years into the 90’s my friends started to get vehicles and there was one in particular who had to get the best sound system you could get at the time. He bought the best radio at Stereo Advantage but like a numbskull he forgot to get good speakers. He had this top of the line, high status car radio with lowly factory default car speakers. It didn’t take him long to save up the cash to get quality speakers or at least a cheaper substitute. He bought speakers for a home system and then put them in his car and ran the wiring to them. Now we had the booming system going except the 5 seat car was now a 3-seater due to the space needed for the monstrous shelf speakers in the back.
This was the first time I started making mixes for other people. I made this guy the dopest mix with the fattest beats so he/we could drive around letting everyone know how cool we were. Every month I’d make another tape. I’d just watch Yo MTV Raps and find out what was hype and then drop those things onto the next tape. We’d go to the recently opened Walden Galleria mall and drive around the parking lot checking out the honeys and setting off the occasional car alarm with the throbbing bass. Okay so we were idiots, but I was making mixtapes for people and they were loving them.
When I found my way into CDs and deeper into different genres in the mid-90’s my mixtapes started to really become something. In my mind they were legendary. I’d give one out to someone occasionally. I’d try to avoid overexposure by handing out too many and I would use them for one of three purposes: to enlighten, inform or to say thanks. Don’t worry I’ll explain.
If someone I knew liked a song by the band but never heard any of their other things, especially if it was a band I liked and had a large amount of stuff from I’d make them a tape or CD with some great tracks from that band to help enlighten them. The hope is that the person gives me the credit for getting them into the band. Nothing would give me more pleasure back then than to be in a conversation with a bunch of people and then my enlightened friend would say, “Well, to be honest I didn’t even really know Morphine until Ed got me into them”. Score! It worked the other way too. If someone else got me into a band, I’d go out of my way to give them credit for it: “I didn’t even know who Ween was until I heard them on blah blah blah’s mixtape.” It was a wonderful give and take.
Secondly I’d use the mixtape to inform a pretty female I was into them. Forget flowers, cards and chocolates, if I gave a woman a mixtape it was a sure sign I liked her. It took a few minutes to buy flowers but it could take a whole evening to put together a proper mixtape for a beautiful lady. These days I give them out more freely to those who ask for them or to friends but I am certainly still capable to giving a mixtape to a pretty female that I like in lieu of a rose.
Lastly, I’d use the mixtape to thank people for being kind to me. I’d make them a mix because they helped me in some way and being a poor interracial kid from the inner city, it wasn’t always possible to take someone out for a meal or drinks as a thank you. Besides, the mixtapes would take time and energy and more often than not I’d make them with a unique tracklisting that I would not repeat on any other tape. It was personalized just for them and I think that is a very cool gesture.
These days I make tons of mix-CDs (I hate saying it that way) for work and play. I’ll even put together playlists for the MP3 device. I’ll still put together mixes for others but the vast majority are for my own use and never get the chance to touch anyone else’s ears. While the methods and reasons have changed over the years, I still adhere to a certain ideology during the creation process.
I realize when one makes a mixtape that anything is possible. You can simply select 20 songs with your eyes closed and call it a mix. For me, I like some organization and sorting. They are generally necessary for me to create. I mean I like to do my own thing but I like to do my own thing within rules. Before you get on me for that I will tell that I make up my own rules for my own good, so that makes it okay. I like to do my own thing within my own rules. This basically means I rule. It also suggests that I like to have a theme when I make a mixtape whether it’s a mood, activity, time or place. Sometimes I’ll make a tape based on or for a person but I cannot or do not make a mixtape for some random reason. I guess it’s not in my nature. Without direction I get lost. All my mixtapes have a purpose.
Without further ado, let me tell you about some past and present ones…
Here are some classics I made over the years that come to me right now:
- “The U.K. is O.K.” – This was a mix of a ton of fantastic indie rock/alternative U.K. bands. I believe this tape goes back to the late 90’s.
-“Eurotrash” – This was a mix I made of European dance rock. It really lived up to its name.
- “Slow Jams” – I believe I made up to 14 volumes of this mixtape. All of them had different slow jams. I guess it goes to show how much I like soul music.
-“Atmospheric Girls” – During the late 90’s I really got into Electronic and European style pop music with female vocals. It was probably Bjork’s fault and you know she was on this mix.
-“My Band” – This was a silly mix tape I made that was based on fantasy. I thought which songs do I wish my fictional band had written? I’d listen to this tape and pretend my kickass band was rocking these songs.
-“80’s movies” – I compiled my favorites from 80’s movies like Teen Wolf, Real Genius, Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Valley Girl and tons more.
- “Best of” - I started this in 2007, made a best of 2008, and a best of 2009 which was bigger than the first two years combined! My Best of 2010 is already on pre-order!
- “The End of the Episode”, - This was one I finished recently and is pretty self explanatory. These are tracks you’d hear at the end of dramatic television shows. Think the end of NCIS, House, Criminal Minds and things like that. The episode ends and either a tragedy is averted or some deep life lessons were learned and a song plays.
-“F-You” – This was a mix of quintessential punk rock tracks from the 70’s and 80’s.
“Last night a DJ saved my life” – This was a disco mix with Chic, the Bee Gees and stuff like that.
Now conversely these are unfinished Mixtapes I’m currently researching or working on:
-“Edwin mix” –This is a long term mix I have been working on for years. I’m trying to collect about 20 songs that I feel encompass who I am. I hope to finish this one day but I’m just a little over half way there after many years.
-“For Her” – Normally I’m always down to receive help putting together mixtapes. I love when people have suggestions and advice but this is one I don’t want any help with. I want every song on this to be songs I heard and thought of her. Unfortunately I haven’t found a “her” to bestow this hopefully one of a kind mix on. I’m forever hopeful though.
-“Summertime” – Strangely I’ve never made a summer mixtape. That has to change. I started putting together tracks for this in the last few days. I’m hoping it will be ready soon because these hot summer-like temperatures have me thinking its summer already.
-“Desert Island mix” – Perhaps some of you television fans might even want to call it a “Lost” mix. This is basically 20 songs I would want if I were on a desert island. The best 20 songs I can find.
-“Retro Pop Sounds” – This is a batch of pop songs with an oldschool vibe to them. Are they from last year or 30 years ago? Hmmm…
-“Soul Train Line” – This is the mix to shake your groove thing to. I want to put together the coolest, funkiest, booty shaking songs that they might have formed the Soul Train Line to back in the day. If you don’t know what the soul train line is, it’s when everybody comes together and forms two sides with about 8-10 feet in between and either everyone goes through one at a time or two at a time showing off their best dance moves. Basically it’s your time to shine and bust a move… no Young MC will not be included.
-“The Soundtrack” – I’ve been working on a book for a long time and in my mind sometimes I imagine the story in movie form. When I do I start to think of songs that would be included on my movie soundtrack. This one may not be finished because the book is not finished. Hopefully both of these will be finished sometime soon.
Okay so tell me what mixtapes mean to you. Have you made any memorable ones, recent ones, awful ones? Tell me about them and your love for mixtapes.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Always thinking... (5-12-10)
I walked in the door a little extra hungry tonight. I ended up working until 6 when I could have left an hour earlier. There were 2 primary reasons for this. The first is that a section of the project I am working on was so close to being finished that I couldn't resist finishing it. I couldn't leave it 95% done until tomorrow. When I come in tomorrow morning I want to start on a new section. I want to start fresh with a fresh day. That always feels right to me. So my determination to get it done kept me there but to seal my fate today my boss and I talked around 4:30 and she was very pleased with my work the past week. She told me so and like the overgrown kid that I am I lit up like a Christmas tree. Growing up I hardly ever received positive reinforcement and although I am aware of this, I still get extra excited when someone complements, praises or thanks me for something I've done, especially if they mean it. After she illustrated how happy she was with the job I’ve been busting my butt on and being so meticulous about it gave me a boost of energy. If it weren't for the fact I was completing a whole section just before 6, I might have stayed even longer. Note to everyone, if you want to reach me, kill me with kindness. I can't resist it.
Needless to say I worked that last hour and a half with a vengeance. So when I threw my keys and phone down on the table I was ready to EAT! As far as food goes, what is better than working really hard whether it’s recreational, your job or even a workout and then “earning” your dinner? It’s so satisfying. When you sit down to eat you feel justified. At least that’s how I feel in that situation. I flipped on the computer, turned on the television and began to think about that well deserved meal.
Here’s the lowdown: I had the ingredients in the house to make pasta except for one, meat. Now I don’t have to eat pasta with meat. I had pasta, a variety of spices I hardly know what to do with and Mr. Paul Newman’s delicious pasta sauce. When we discuss Mr. Newman’s sauce, we must refer to him as Mr. Newman. That’s how much I love that sauce!
I could put the pasta together and call it an evening. That would have been simple enough. But maybe it’s the entitlement I felt with working hard for extra time at work or maybe it’s just my natural desire to spoil myself when possible due to my sometimes overwhelming desire to live in the moment… especially when I’m on my time. I was thinking of making homemade meatballs to go with the pasta and Mr. Newman’s fine sauce. I would need to get some meat.
Around this time it was quarter to 7. I began to drift one way and then the other. I really wanted the meat and maybe even some soft bread. Why not do it up? On the other hand, I’d have to go to the store to get the meat. My ankle is still a little tender and I want to eat as soon as possible so a trip that might take up to a half an hour might not work either. After several minutes of this back and forth I began to feel like Vizzini having a battle of wits with myself. Instead of a battle to the death for the princess it was a battle of wits to the dinner for the pasta.
“But it's so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.”
Also impacting the decision was the fact I only had 7 dollars on me until tomorrow at 3pm. My paycheck comes in bi-weekly and as you might imagine that 14th day, the one right before payday is often my poorest. Now I have plenty of money in the bank but I was trying very hard not to take any out and at this point where it was after 7pm, there was no way for me to get any (I purposely do not know the pin number to my bank card so that I will never go to a ATM to take money out). So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.
Now tomorrow I will need lunch for work. Lunch will cost money unless I have leftovers to eat. Breakfast is already taken care of. I have a new box of cereal and I’ve been thinking about that bowl of Special K for tomorrow morning already. I wouldn’t want to eat it for lunch as well. That’s tacky. So would I need that $7 to get lunch? Or if I spent it now to enhance this meal and make it more filling there’s a high probability that there would be leftovers for lunch tomorrow. So it would be okay to spend it but I would still have to go get the additional ingredients. My tummy at this point was getting annoyed with my indecision and started to chime in with its opinion; “grawrururrurwwwwaarrr”. I don’t speak tummy so I don’t have the literal translation but the tone was an angry tone. That’s how I know.
Now it was getting to 7:30 and I still hadn’t made up my mind but I did however further complicate matters by adding additional options. I decided that if I was willing to go out to get things to enhance the meal, why not just get some takeout? I could get an entire quart of fried rice for less than the $7 I had left. I could even save some of it for tomorrow, although day old rice… not as good. Anyway the point was that I could buy food for tonight and tomorrow that had nothing to do with this whole pasta thing… sorry Mr. Newman.
Finally as the clock approached 8 the indecision had grown into something terrible. It had to be stopped. I filled a pot full of water and put it on the stove. I grabbed the pasta, some garlic, some peppers, onions and after a brief apology to Mr. Newman, the sauce. I laid everything out and took a look at all of it. Upon seeing the flame heating the bottom of the pot I knew it was over. I would eat meatless pasta tonight and I will retain the 7 dollars in case there are no leftovers! It’s a win-win!
I walked back into the main room so I could update my facebook status with my new adventure and find out if anyone could relate. About 20 minutes later I was eating. Everything came out well. I somehow figured out the perfect amount of spices to add and the chunky vegetables added a meat-like texture to the tasty pasta. I devoured the food in only a fraction of the time it took me to overthink whether to even make it. Now that I knew I was definitely in for the night I finally kicked off my shoes one at a time and followed that with my pants and shirt crumpled up next to them on the floor. It was about time to get comfortable. I thought about what I should do to get comfortable. How should I relax? I grabbed the remote and suddenly I was there. Well that was easy.
Needless to say I worked that last hour and a half with a vengeance. So when I threw my keys and phone down on the table I was ready to EAT! As far as food goes, what is better than working really hard whether it’s recreational, your job or even a workout and then “earning” your dinner? It’s so satisfying. When you sit down to eat you feel justified. At least that’s how I feel in that situation. I flipped on the computer, turned on the television and began to think about that well deserved meal.
Here’s the lowdown: I had the ingredients in the house to make pasta except for one, meat. Now I don’t have to eat pasta with meat. I had pasta, a variety of spices I hardly know what to do with and Mr. Paul Newman’s delicious pasta sauce. When we discuss Mr. Newman’s sauce, we must refer to him as Mr. Newman. That’s how much I love that sauce!
I could put the pasta together and call it an evening. That would have been simple enough. But maybe it’s the entitlement I felt with working hard for extra time at work or maybe it’s just my natural desire to spoil myself when possible due to my sometimes overwhelming desire to live in the moment… especially when I’m on my time. I was thinking of making homemade meatballs to go with the pasta and Mr. Newman’s fine sauce. I would need to get some meat.
Around this time it was quarter to 7. I began to drift one way and then the other. I really wanted the meat and maybe even some soft bread. Why not do it up? On the other hand, I’d have to go to the store to get the meat. My ankle is still a little tender and I want to eat as soon as possible so a trip that might take up to a half an hour might not work either. After several minutes of this back and forth I began to feel like Vizzini having a battle of wits with myself. Instead of a battle to the death for the princess it was a battle of wits to the dinner for the pasta.
“But it's so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.”
Also impacting the decision was the fact I only had 7 dollars on me until tomorrow at 3pm. My paycheck comes in bi-weekly and as you might imagine that 14th day, the one right before payday is often my poorest. Now I have plenty of money in the bank but I was trying very hard not to take any out and at this point where it was after 7pm, there was no way for me to get any (I purposely do not know the pin number to my bank card so that I will never go to a ATM to take money out). So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.
Now tomorrow I will need lunch for work. Lunch will cost money unless I have leftovers to eat. Breakfast is already taken care of. I have a new box of cereal and I’ve been thinking about that bowl of Special K for tomorrow morning already. I wouldn’t want to eat it for lunch as well. That’s tacky. So would I need that $7 to get lunch? Or if I spent it now to enhance this meal and make it more filling there’s a high probability that there would be leftovers for lunch tomorrow. So it would be okay to spend it but I would still have to go get the additional ingredients. My tummy at this point was getting annoyed with my indecision and started to chime in with its opinion; “grawrururrurwwwwaarrr”. I don’t speak tummy so I don’t have the literal translation but the tone was an angry tone. That’s how I know.
Now it was getting to 7:30 and I still hadn’t made up my mind but I did however further complicate matters by adding additional options. I decided that if I was willing to go out to get things to enhance the meal, why not just get some takeout? I could get an entire quart of fried rice for less than the $7 I had left. I could even save some of it for tomorrow, although day old rice… not as good. Anyway the point was that I could buy food for tonight and tomorrow that had nothing to do with this whole pasta thing… sorry Mr. Newman.
Finally as the clock approached 8 the indecision had grown into something terrible. It had to be stopped. I filled a pot full of water and put it on the stove. I grabbed the pasta, some garlic, some peppers, onions and after a brief apology to Mr. Newman, the sauce. I laid everything out and took a look at all of it. Upon seeing the flame heating the bottom of the pot I knew it was over. I would eat meatless pasta tonight and I will retain the 7 dollars in case there are no leftovers! It’s a win-win!
I walked back into the main room so I could update my facebook status with my new adventure and find out if anyone could relate. About 20 minutes later I was eating. Everything came out well. I somehow figured out the perfect amount of spices to add and the chunky vegetables added a meat-like texture to the tasty pasta. I devoured the food in only a fraction of the time it took me to overthink whether to even make it. Now that I knew I was definitely in for the night I finally kicked off my shoes one at a time and followed that with my pants and shirt crumpled up next to them on the floor. It was about time to get comfortable. I thought about what I should do to get comfortable. How should I relax? I grabbed the remote and suddenly I was there. Well that was easy.
Monday, May 10, 2010
(Flashback Blog) The Kissing Moon Sept. 26, 2005
Once again I present you with a blog I wrote a few years ago. It asks a question I'm always contemplating. It brings up the question of quality versus quantity. Of course I'd tell you now I'd prefer quality over quantity, but I'd like that quality quite frequently. Is that against the rules? I mean who has a cake and doesn't eat it to? You don't get a cake only to look at it. With that in mind I'm serving up another flashback blog called "The Kissing Moon"
Monday, September 26, 2005
The killing moon... (9-26-05)
Under blue moon I saw you
So soon you'll take me
Up in your arms
Too late to beg you or cancel it though
I know it must be the killing time
Unwillingly mine
Fate
Up against your will
Through the thick and thin
He will wait until
You give yourself to him
Lyrically I really love Echo and the Bunnymen. I've really been listening to them a lot lately. I've been in kind of a music lull otherwise, not actively seeking out new stuff but satisfied with only a few artists. For the past few weeks it's been Echo, Rilo Kiley, Ben Folds, Aimee Mann and Cole Porter stuff. Maybe I am unable to take on any new music lately because I have a lot of internal traffic.
Lately I feel quiet. It's the quiet before the storm. I feel the numbness that comes over me before something big happens. The big of course is my move on Saturday. My life will change somewhat and I'll grow. I'll improvise, I'll overcome and I'll adapt like a good soldier but I will worry all the way through.
Emotionally I'm already tired and I haven't even gotten to the meat on the plate. Physically I'm a little beat up, but I think I have been pretty much for 3 years now. You know, it's always something. My pulled hamstring is pretty close to 100%, so I'm sure there's a new ailment around the corner. I’ll keep on pushing though because that’s the only way I know how to be.
I've been fascinated with women's lips lately. They can be so lovely. Furthermore, kisses are great, don't you agree? For the record, I'm a soft and moist kisser. I think those are the best. I don't give someone a peck. I don’t like matter of fact kisses. If and when I am able I only share what I perceive to be real kisses. Sometimes I think I romanticize it too much and treat every kiss like it could be the last one but I can definitely tell you that when I think back to the last kiss I had with each person I’ve ever kissed in every case I never knew it was the last one I’d have with that person.
I could be wrong but I feel like kisses cannot lie. That’s why I’ll take a great kiss every once in a while over constant pecks and smooches. It's a lot like how I live my life, I'll go for long periods holding out for the good stuff. As I get older though, time seems to become more valuable which creates an interesting situation. I mean smooches can be good too right? As I get older I begin to wonder about quantity against quality. So far I’m not willing to budge.
On one hand you begin to consider that since you have less time, you should treat what you have like gold. Why settle for the crap you'd settle for when you were 20? But again, if you don't have much time left, why not indulge and take as much in as possible? It’s a debate I have internally in many aspects of my life. It is dreams against reality. It’s practicality against luxury. It’s quality against quantity. Currently I favor the former, but I consider the latter often. Of course I'm only 31, so this whole line of thinking is silly but hey, so am I.
So I ask you, which is best in life? Quality or Quantity? I’d love to hear what everyone feels about it.
Remember, it's fate up against your will.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aX1PwkgwsG0
Monday, September 26, 2005
The killing moon... (9-26-05)
Under blue moon I saw you
So soon you'll take me
Up in your arms
Too late to beg you or cancel it though
I know it must be the killing time
Unwillingly mine
Fate
Up against your will
Through the thick and thin
He will wait until
You give yourself to him
Lyrically I really love Echo and the Bunnymen. I've really been listening to them a lot lately. I've been in kind of a music lull otherwise, not actively seeking out new stuff but satisfied with only a few artists. For the past few weeks it's been Echo, Rilo Kiley, Ben Folds, Aimee Mann and Cole Porter stuff. Maybe I am unable to take on any new music lately because I have a lot of internal traffic.
Lately I feel quiet. It's the quiet before the storm. I feel the numbness that comes over me before something big happens. The big of course is my move on Saturday. My life will change somewhat and I'll grow. I'll improvise, I'll overcome and I'll adapt like a good soldier but I will worry all the way through.
Emotionally I'm already tired and I haven't even gotten to the meat on the plate. Physically I'm a little beat up, but I think I have been pretty much for 3 years now. You know, it's always something. My pulled hamstring is pretty close to 100%, so I'm sure there's a new ailment around the corner. I’ll keep on pushing though because that’s the only way I know how to be.
I've been fascinated with women's lips lately. They can be so lovely. Furthermore, kisses are great, don't you agree? For the record, I'm a soft and moist kisser. I think those are the best. I don't give someone a peck. I don’t like matter of fact kisses. If and when I am able I only share what I perceive to be real kisses. Sometimes I think I romanticize it too much and treat every kiss like it could be the last one but I can definitely tell you that when I think back to the last kiss I had with each person I’ve ever kissed in every case I never knew it was the last one I’d have with that person.
I could be wrong but I feel like kisses cannot lie. That’s why I’ll take a great kiss every once in a while over constant pecks and smooches. It's a lot like how I live my life, I'll go for long periods holding out for the good stuff. As I get older though, time seems to become more valuable which creates an interesting situation. I mean smooches can be good too right? As I get older I begin to wonder about quantity against quality. So far I’m not willing to budge.
On one hand you begin to consider that since you have less time, you should treat what you have like gold. Why settle for the crap you'd settle for when you were 20? But again, if you don't have much time left, why not indulge and take as much in as possible? It’s a debate I have internally in many aspects of my life. It is dreams against reality. It’s practicality against luxury. It’s quality against quantity. Currently I favor the former, but I consider the latter often. Of course I'm only 31, so this whole line of thinking is silly but hey, so am I.
So I ask you, which is best in life? Quality or Quantity? I’d love to hear what everyone feels about it.
Remember, it's fate up against your will.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aX1PwkgwsG0
Friday, May 7, 2010
The Watchman pt. 1 (5-7-10)
She was across the street but not out of my range. My eyes watched her walk by rather briskly and it didn’t even seem like she knew I was looking at her. It was hard not to. She had these big bouncy curls and I am a sucker for long waves and curls on a woman’s head. I honestly couldn’t tell you if she had a great butt or what her body was like. I was transfixed on that hair. It bounced with her every step and I did try to get a look at her face but with large sunglasses draped across her head and the distance involved I couldn’t see much of it. Before I knew it her curls had bounced out of view.
A few minutes later a thin six foot tall woman walked into my sights and again was directly across the street. She had on tight, suggestive clothes and conversely she had her hair cut so short it might have only been a half inch long. With her leather jacket and scarf to go with her tight pants and high boots she looked like some sort of model. I thought to myself, she’s kind of attractive and then she stopped walking and pulled out a cigarette. She lit up and just like that my interest in her was up in smoke. I swear it ruins the attraction for me every time. There’s hardly anything that breaks my heart more than a pretty woman smoking a cigarette. How can someone so attractive on the outside inhale something so ugly on the inside?
Those of you who know me know why I feel the way I do about smoking but for those of you who don’t let’s just say it’s had a big effect on my family over the years.
After the tall short haired woman took a puff she struck a pose that I could only define as “attitude”. She was out on a busy street and she knew people were looking at her. When she resumed walking RuPaul had joined us and was singing his/her song Supermodel… “You better work!” (Sometimes I think I am a lot like J.D. from Scrubs) Don’t worry RuPaul, she was working it. I thought the whole thing was a little too much for a chilly evening on Elmwood Avenue but she had my attention so I can’t really talk. Although I have no problem writing about it afterwards it would seem.
Before the smoke even dissipated into the air here came the next contestant for my attention. This guy was pushing a shopping cart down Elmwood. That might be considered a little odd. The bottom half of the cart was full of bottles and cans. Now one would figure that might justify the cart but what filled the top half of the cart is where things got a bit uncertain. Barely sitting nearly halfway into the cart was a television. It was at least a 20 incher and it wasn’t the sleek, thin HD style but the old tube style.
Coming from the lower west side I’d see the occasional appliance or piece of furniture being walked down the street in a shopping cart. This usually meant one of 4 things: 1-He bought or borrowed this TV from a friend. 2- He picked it up off of a curb or someone’s garbage. 3- He stole the TV or 4- He was moving. I don’t know which it was and frankly it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the entertaining moment ahead. Considering that the guy was headed to the store to cash in maybe a dollar and change of returnables I was thinking this might be fun. Was he going to go into Wilson Farms with the television? I was dying to know. What could they say? They don’t sell TVs there so I didn’t think they could have a problem but what about this guy? All the bottles and cans were underneath the television in the cart and he would have to take it out to get to them.
As he made his way into the parking lot and towards the doors the suspense was killing me. Then it happened. He stopped the cart and reached inside. He pulled the TV out and placed it down on the ground next to the bike rack. He then drove the cart inside to cash in his recyclables leaving the television unattended… unless you count me staring at it from across the street.
Now directly across the street from me was a television sitting on the ground. I wondered if people would do double takes as they came out of the store and saw it. Surprisingly it seemed no one noticed. At least a dozen people came out and walked right past it before Mr. Cart returned. No one looked at it. No one double-taked or paid any attention to it. People were too deep into their own little worlds, their phones or their friends to notice. I began to think I needed to redefine my definition of normalcy when just before the “rightful” owner came through the door one guy walked past and actually slowed and looked over at it a few times. What was he thinking? Why was it there? That might have been one thing. Who knows what else? Perhaps he and I shared the same thought at that moment.
I watched the man place the television back in the cart and instead of heading back up Elmwood whence he came, he turned down Auburn and headed towards the west. Up above the trees and the store the sun was setting and was nearly gone. In a strange way it was like this guy pushing the cart was heading off into the sunset. As I watched him disappear off into the distance I looked at the time and realized my clothes were definitely done. I had to go in and collect them. I would have to wait about a week before I can once again sit on that corner and watch life the same way.
A few minutes later a thin six foot tall woman walked into my sights and again was directly across the street. She had on tight, suggestive clothes and conversely she had her hair cut so short it might have only been a half inch long. With her leather jacket and scarf to go with her tight pants and high boots she looked like some sort of model. I thought to myself, she’s kind of attractive and then she stopped walking and pulled out a cigarette. She lit up and just like that my interest in her was up in smoke. I swear it ruins the attraction for me every time. There’s hardly anything that breaks my heart more than a pretty woman smoking a cigarette. How can someone so attractive on the outside inhale something so ugly on the inside?
Those of you who know me know why I feel the way I do about smoking but for those of you who don’t let’s just say it’s had a big effect on my family over the years.
After the tall short haired woman took a puff she struck a pose that I could only define as “attitude”. She was out on a busy street and she knew people were looking at her. When she resumed walking RuPaul had joined us and was singing his/her song Supermodel… “You better work!” (Sometimes I think I am a lot like J.D. from Scrubs) Don’t worry RuPaul, she was working it. I thought the whole thing was a little too much for a chilly evening on Elmwood Avenue but she had my attention so I can’t really talk. Although I have no problem writing about it afterwards it would seem.
Before the smoke even dissipated into the air here came the next contestant for my attention. This guy was pushing a shopping cart down Elmwood. That might be considered a little odd. The bottom half of the cart was full of bottles and cans. Now one would figure that might justify the cart but what filled the top half of the cart is where things got a bit uncertain. Barely sitting nearly halfway into the cart was a television. It was at least a 20 incher and it wasn’t the sleek, thin HD style but the old tube style.
Coming from the lower west side I’d see the occasional appliance or piece of furniture being walked down the street in a shopping cart. This usually meant one of 4 things: 1-He bought or borrowed this TV from a friend. 2- He picked it up off of a curb or someone’s garbage. 3- He stole the TV or 4- He was moving. I don’t know which it was and frankly it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the entertaining moment ahead. Considering that the guy was headed to the store to cash in maybe a dollar and change of returnables I was thinking this might be fun. Was he going to go into Wilson Farms with the television? I was dying to know. What could they say? They don’t sell TVs there so I didn’t think they could have a problem but what about this guy? All the bottles and cans were underneath the television in the cart and he would have to take it out to get to them.
As he made his way into the parking lot and towards the doors the suspense was killing me. Then it happened. He stopped the cart and reached inside. He pulled the TV out and placed it down on the ground next to the bike rack. He then drove the cart inside to cash in his recyclables leaving the television unattended… unless you count me staring at it from across the street.
Now directly across the street from me was a television sitting on the ground. I wondered if people would do double takes as they came out of the store and saw it. Surprisingly it seemed no one noticed. At least a dozen people came out and walked right past it before Mr. Cart returned. No one looked at it. No one double-taked or paid any attention to it. People were too deep into their own little worlds, their phones or their friends to notice. I began to think I needed to redefine my definition of normalcy when just before the “rightful” owner came through the door one guy walked past and actually slowed and looked over at it a few times. What was he thinking? Why was it there? That might have been one thing. Who knows what else? Perhaps he and I shared the same thought at that moment.
I watched the man place the television back in the cart and instead of heading back up Elmwood whence he came, he turned down Auburn and headed towards the west. Up above the trees and the store the sun was setting and was nearly gone. In a strange way it was like this guy pushing the cart was heading off into the sunset. As I watched him disappear off into the distance I looked at the time and realized my clothes were definitely done. I had to go in and collect them. I would have to wait about a week before I can once again sit on that corner and watch life the same way.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Sprung! (5-4-10)
I’m happy to be alive. I don’t mean that as a direct comment referring to the robbery last week. I mean that in general. I’d say it whether that happened or not but it certainly makes me feel a little extra thankful. I’m loving things because it’s spring. I LOVE SPRING! Every day I check the progress on the trees on my street. The leaves are coming in nicely. There’s the wonderful view of dogs, joggers and bikes all over the neighborhood to help excite me. I know these are good things and the fact that I’m seeing them reminds me of the next 4-5 wonderful months ahead. This is why we tolerate the winters. This is the reason. We Buffaloians celebrate the spring and summer as vibrantly as nearly anyone and I am no exception.
I’ve already begun my football league. We aren’t doing so hot thus far as we are 1-3 and we have a tough doubleheader this Saturday at 1 and 2. I hope we can win both of those games. People are trying really hard so it should come together. On Monday evening I begin kickball season. That is going to be a blast. In a few weeks softball will start. I guess I have the option of playing on Sundays and Tuesdays but I will only commit to Sundays at this time. I’m holding out on Tuesdays because of the Bidwell Park concert series which usually starts in late May or early June. I went to all of the shows last year save one and I even stood in the rain and watched the Outer Circle Orchestra will the sunshine out of hiding by the end of their set.
I’m getting excited to take little day trips, wander around the Falls, say hi to the Animals at the zoo, read under a tree, barbeque, picnic, eat soft serve ice cream, sit in the shade and feel the warm breeze, go to farmer’s markets, lay on the grass and look up at the sky, tan my pasty feet, walk on the boardwalks and lakeshores, try new restaurants, enjoy beloved restaurants and smile in the sunshine. I’m sure there’s so much I’m leaving out.
As with every spring I feel reborn and I have all new hopes and dreams that have blown in on the warming winds. I remember that if we endeavor to follow our dreams that the universe will conspire to help us achieve them.
Despite the uncertainty at work, the incident last week, the Sabres bowing out in the 1st round and some dental issues I feel like things are looking up. I’m out playing sports, listening to great music, seeing great movies, eating nice food, making jokes, laughing, smiling and meeting wonderful new teammates, friends, females and their equally fantastic dogs. Life is good. I hope everyone else is enjoying the spring as much as I’ve been so far.
Lastly for those who missed my show and my post a few days back, my radio show is available to listen to on your computers or on your iPods. I have the show broken down into 3 hours and each part is quickly downloadable and although the audio isn’t high quality and there are a few small gaps between each part, I think you should listen!
http://www.fileden.com/files/2010/5/3/2847425//CET2010pt1.mp3
http://www.fileden.com/files/2010/5/3/2847425//CET2010pt2.mp3
http://www.fileden.com/files/2010/5/3/2847425//CET2010pt3yes.mp3
I’ve already begun my football league. We aren’t doing so hot thus far as we are 1-3 and we have a tough doubleheader this Saturday at 1 and 2. I hope we can win both of those games. People are trying really hard so it should come together. On Monday evening I begin kickball season. That is going to be a blast. In a few weeks softball will start. I guess I have the option of playing on Sundays and Tuesdays but I will only commit to Sundays at this time. I’m holding out on Tuesdays because of the Bidwell Park concert series which usually starts in late May or early June. I went to all of the shows last year save one and I even stood in the rain and watched the Outer Circle Orchestra will the sunshine out of hiding by the end of their set.
I’m getting excited to take little day trips, wander around the Falls, say hi to the Animals at the zoo, read under a tree, barbeque, picnic, eat soft serve ice cream, sit in the shade and feel the warm breeze, go to farmer’s markets, lay on the grass and look up at the sky, tan my pasty feet, walk on the boardwalks and lakeshores, try new restaurants, enjoy beloved restaurants and smile in the sunshine. I’m sure there’s so much I’m leaving out.
As with every spring I feel reborn and I have all new hopes and dreams that have blown in on the warming winds. I remember that if we endeavor to follow our dreams that the universe will conspire to help us achieve them.
Despite the uncertainty at work, the incident last week, the Sabres bowing out in the 1st round and some dental issues I feel like things are looking up. I’m out playing sports, listening to great music, seeing great movies, eating nice food, making jokes, laughing, smiling and meeting wonderful new teammates, friends, females and their equally fantastic dogs. Life is good. I hope everyone else is enjoying the spring as much as I’ve been so far.
Lastly for those who missed my show and my post a few days back, my radio show is available to listen to on your computers or on your iPods. I have the show broken down into 3 hours and each part is quickly downloadable and although the audio isn’t high quality and there are a few small gaps between each part, I think you should listen!
http://www.fileden.com/files/2010/5/3/2847425//CET2010pt1.mp3
http://www.fileden.com/files/2010/5/3/2847425//CET2010pt2.mp3
http://www.fileden.com/files/2010/5/3/2847425//CET2010pt3yes.mp3
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Gimme All You Got! (4-27-10)
It was such a long day at work. I had to move hundreds of boxes of CDs and books. We’re moving a block down and tens of thousands of these things are coming with us. I’ve cut my own supply of those things in half because I loathe to move them and I move often enough for it to matter. But this is like moving every day for a few weeks. It can be very tiring yet strangely satisfying. It’s like I’m on the moving media workout plan. My arms and legs were exhausted. When I walked into my apartment it occurred to me that all I had to eat earlier was a granola bar and some oatmeal. Now I was about to go out to a bar to watch the Sabres game and when that was over it would have been too late to eat. I didn’t have a lot of time but I made my way into the fridge and within a few minutes I started to cook dinner.
After eating and showering I looked at the clock. It was approaching 7. The game would be starting soon. I just missed the 6:51 bus to get down to the bar and the next one wasn’t until 7:20. That meant I’d get to the bar halfway through the 1st period. I started to think about bailing out. On one hand it could be the last Sabres game of the season and if they lost and the season was over it would be better to be miserable around friends. Also we were getting together to celebrate a friend’s birthday. That was pretty important. It was more important than my dislike for the bar and my fatigue from work. It was settled then. I grabbed my fedora and made my way out and caught that 7:20 bus with a minute to spare.
I walked into the bar and saw several familiar faces. There were a few I hadn’t seen in a while and even a few new ones who I met as we watched the game. It was another gut wrenching ordeal as the Sabres stayed just close enough to drive all of us watching crazy. I thought about getting a drink a few times but I didn’t. Money is tight this week and I had to get up really early for work so I didn’t want any ill effects from the alcohol making things harder. I didn’t even get a drink when the game ended and the Sabres came up just short.
I was pretty bummed out though. Hockey starts in October and as fans we involve ourselves from then through the playoffs in April or May. I’ve probably watched a good 40-50 of the 88 games the team has played this year and I’ve done my fair share of screaming at the television when things don’t go our way. I was pretty emotionally invested and the playoffs are the pinnacle of this. The screaming is intensified and more frequent. The cursing tends to be on the increase. Every game becomes an important event.
This one ended badly. I felt down about the season ending and having no more Sabres games to watch but despite that it was still very nice to wish a friend happy birthday and to see many other friends and catch up with them. After the game and how it ended I kind of lost my zest for being out and as a result I felt like I wasn’t going to stay out much longer. A couple of friends asked me if I wanted a ride home and I accepted. I generally don’t turn down such generosity. Especially in a silly, sports fueled emotionally vulnerable state.
We said our goodbyes to everyone via hugs and handshakes and we headed outside to the parking lot. The parking lot was around the corner and in back of the place and it wasn’t much of a walk at all. We had to exit the bar, walk a few steps to the corner, around it and then right into the dimly lit parking lot directly behind it. My mind started to shift from being sad about the Sabres season ending to excited to get home and have a glass of Cherry Crush and relax. I was so tired physically and after such an intense game, I was wiped out emotionally as well. As we turned around the corner there were two men approaching. One I recognized from inside the bar earlier, the other one I didn’t know.
As we got into the car my female friend got into the driver’s side and my male friend started to get into the back of the car. As he was doing this I noticed the guy I had saw earlier inside the bar was gone. The other guy, the stranger was walking slowly on the edge of the sidewalk only a few feet from the parking lot. He was eying us and I was looking at him. I remember thinking man I hope he doesn’t bug us or ask us for change or something. He was definitely giving us a strange look.
My male friend from inside the car told me to take the front seat. I looked down in his direction and commented how that was very nice of him. My eyes started to drift upwards quickly because I saw this flash out of the corner of my eye as the strange guy ran right over to me on the side of the car and before I even knew what happened I looked down to see a handgun pushing against my stomach. He waited for the second my eyes went off of him to make his move. He said “Gimme all you got!” and I replied I had nothing. I was lying. In my right hand I held my jacket and in there was 3 pieces of highly enjoyable Sweet Berry Stride gum, still wrapped! Plus there was my inhaler for if I have any environmental asthma attacks and my cheap ass cell phone which is 4 years old, has no features and is probably worth the cost of two happy meals. However in my pants pocket I had house keys in one side and my ID and about $50 in the other but I keep money folded in my pocket. I never carry a wallet. I don’t like wallets because of the bulge they produce and because in some pants they can be clunky and uncomfortable. So there was no bulge, although I don’t think the light was bright enough to see if there was one anyway.
So I lied to him and told him I had nothing. He said something that I can’t recall. I know it was short. I replied that I just watched a whole hockey game in a bar, as if to explain why I had nothing on me. He turned his attention away from me and towards my friends in the car. My male friend in the backseat hadn’t completely closed the door yet and the man pulled it open and began to address them.
It was then I saw it. The gun was lowered to his side. My thought was to go for it and to try to neutralize the threat. My mind told me to do it. My mind said, go for the gun! My arms and legs did nothing. The anger began to build inside of me as his element of surprise had run its course and my thoughts were shifting from fear to fight. My body would not comply. It was almost like there were two of me at that moment. One was frozen stiff and one was looking on angrily but powerlessly because in order to act I needed both parts to work together. It turned out I only had a few short seconds because before I knew it he was leaning into the backseat almost up to his waist and he had both arms inside the car. From what I found out later he was pointing the gun around at both of them and demanding their valuables.
From outside the car I could not hear or know what was going on inside. All that separated me from this guy was the car door. Looking at him half in the car but with both legs still firmly planted on the ground my next thought was to close the car door very violently. If I did that I could injure him quite badly but the risk was too great. I had no idea where the gun was and if it were to go off suddenly, one of my friends could have been hurt or even killed. I just had to stand there and do nothing. It burned me like you can’t believe.
After he got my friends’ wallet and purse he jumped out of the car and ran like a punk down the street. Once he had what he wanted he came out of the car so fast and was across the street in a blink of an eye. When I think about it now, I think I should have tackled him from behind once he got out of the car and started to run but those few seconds are a blur to me. Maybe it’s for the best I didn’t try. If I had somehow engaged him and the gun was out of the picture, I probably would have killed him. The adrenaline and rage were so high I don’t know what I could have done. I might have snapped his neck or reached into his throat and ripped out his vocal cords.
He ran up Essex Street and I walked out from around the car and watched him run all the way down the block. I’d never been so angry in all my life. My mind was once again barking out orders. It said, go after him! And again my legs did nothing. I heard my friend call from the car; “Is he gone?” “Yeah” I replied, “he’s gone”. They came out of the car and we stood out on the sidewalk for a second trying to process what had just happened. It came and went down so fast. The whole ordeal probably took no longer than a minute.
After maybe another minute or two of processing, we went back into the bar. I don’t entirely remember much in those next few minutes other than I looked down at my hands and they were trembling. I saw my friends try to call the police to report it and I was just kind of standing there. I began to get angry with myself because I felt like I let this guy do this to me and my friends. I began to feel guilt and frustration. I felt like a coward because I had a window, albeit a few seconds where I might have been able to disarm and destroy this desperate person. As the minutes passed by the guilt and anger increased. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
One of my friends who was inside the bar grabbed my hand. I was babbling something about how I should have done something. To be honest I don’t remember much of what I was saying but I remember everything she said to me. She told me that I did the right thing by doing nothing. She reminded me that the person who did this isn’t a man. She also told me that she knew I have a big heart and that I care about my friends but that it was more important that we are all still here and unhurt. I know everything she said is true but pride is a mutha. My sense of right and wrong and my sense of honor are all deep aspects of my being. Who does that punk ass bitch think he is pulling a gun on people and taking things from them? That man put a gun into my stomach and in each of my friends’ faces. He should pay for that. It’s not right. I would never do something like that to another human being because I live by the golden rule. But what good are rules when you are only one living by them? I’m sorry, I’m getting a bit emotional. Where was I?
My friend was comforting me and reminding me life is more important than pride, possessions, and stupidity. It’s not so much that he took things from us but more that he came dangerously close to potentially taking our lives that burns me. It’s the principle. I’m so grateful that I was around friends afterwards who were there to talk sense to me in my senseless state. They kept me from doing anything idiotic and for bringing me back to what’s important. If it wasn't for them I might have have searched the neighborhoods for him all night with very bad intentions.
As it turned out a police car was cruising nearby and actually saw the guy running down Massachusetts Ave. but they didn’t get the call until they were several blocks past him. After hearing my physical description of the criminal they realized that they saw him. We hung at the bar for a while trying to calm ourselves and the police came back a time or two to talk with us and at one point they actually had a guy who fit the description but all 3 of us and the guy who talked to the criminal briefly before he robbed us agreed that it wasn’t the guy. It was just a guy with the same build, height and skin color. He looked like an idiot but he wasn’t the armed robber.
By the way that was another tense moment. They brought us over in a squad car and we sat in the car and they shined a spotlight in front of it so the suspect couldn’t see our faces and then they brought the guy out. We had to look at him for about a minute to confirm who it was and I can’t imagine what that guy must have been thinking. I guess someone saw him run into a notorious address nearby and he fit the physical description but we knew it wasn’t the right guy. I felt bad for him despite his nefarious appearance. He had probably done other awful things but not this thing. I hope I’m wrong about him though but in reality he was hanging out at a shady crackhouse.
They brought him out for us to look at and then they brought him out again when the other squad car showed up with that other guy he spoke to briefly. Then it occurred to me. In a weird way WE might have saved that one guy, the other guy who saw him right before he came to us, from getting robbed by the gun-toting coward. We asked the guy what the robber said to him and he said he asked him where he could get some weed. He must have just walked up on the guy when we turned the corner and began approaching them near the parking lot. Our presence might have saved this guy from being a target but on the other hand served us up as a better target with their being 3 of us with potentially 3 times as many valuables.
We hung out at the bar for over 2 hours after the incident and many friends were there with us to help calm us, feed us drinks or listen to my bad jokes. I think at one point I blamed the Sabres for the incident saying, if only they scored at the end and forced overtime, we would have been in there longer.
I’m left wondering many things and searching for answers I’ll probably never get. I wonder if it was a real gun. It was black, metal and looked the part. I wonder why he gave up on me so easily. I told him I didn’t have anything and he went right to my friends. I found that odd after the fact. I wonder what I would have done if he pressed me. I wonder if he will do this again to someone. Actually, I don’t wonder, I know he will. If he was THAT desperate for $40 and a cell phone he must be spiraling and devolving, probably from a drug habit that he can no longer control and I’m afraid he will do this again to someone else. I hope the police catch him before anyone else gets robbed or hurt by this coward. If I see or read about another incident in the same neighborhood with a similar description, it will break my heart.
As for now, I rode my bike to and from work today and my level of paranoia is very high. The anger and helplessness is still there and I hate it. I’m an easy going, nice person but this incident has taken my smile away for now. Why do bad things happen to good people? I replay it in my mind constantly and instead of thinking what I could have done, I am now worried about what I would do. As I said at the bar after the incident, I have now danced with the devil in the pale moonlight.
After eating and showering I looked at the clock. It was approaching 7. The game would be starting soon. I just missed the 6:51 bus to get down to the bar and the next one wasn’t until 7:20. That meant I’d get to the bar halfway through the 1st period. I started to think about bailing out. On one hand it could be the last Sabres game of the season and if they lost and the season was over it would be better to be miserable around friends. Also we were getting together to celebrate a friend’s birthday. That was pretty important. It was more important than my dislike for the bar and my fatigue from work. It was settled then. I grabbed my fedora and made my way out and caught that 7:20 bus with a minute to spare.
I walked into the bar and saw several familiar faces. There were a few I hadn’t seen in a while and even a few new ones who I met as we watched the game. It was another gut wrenching ordeal as the Sabres stayed just close enough to drive all of us watching crazy. I thought about getting a drink a few times but I didn’t. Money is tight this week and I had to get up really early for work so I didn’t want any ill effects from the alcohol making things harder. I didn’t even get a drink when the game ended and the Sabres came up just short.
I was pretty bummed out though. Hockey starts in October and as fans we involve ourselves from then through the playoffs in April or May. I’ve probably watched a good 40-50 of the 88 games the team has played this year and I’ve done my fair share of screaming at the television when things don’t go our way. I was pretty emotionally invested and the playoffs are the pinnacle of this. The screaming is intensified and more frequent. The cursing tends to be on the increase. Every game becomes an important event.
This one ended badly. I felt down about the season ending and having no more Sabres games to watch but despite that it was still very nice to wish a friend happy birthday and to see many other friends and catch up with them. After the game and how it ended I kind of lost my zest for being out and as a result I felt like I wasn’t going to stay out much longer. A couple of friends asked me if I wanted a ride home and I accepted. I generally don’t turn down such generosity. Especially in a silly, sports fueled emotionally vulnerable state.
We said our goodbyes to everyone via hugs and handshakes and we headed outside to the parking lot. The parking lot was around the corner and in back of the place and it wasn’t much of a walk at all. We had to exit the bar, walk a few steps to the corner, around it and then right into the dimly lit parking lot directly behind it. My mind started to shift from being sad about the Sabres season ending to excited to get home and have a glass of Cherry Crush and relax. I was so tired physically and after such an intense game, I was wiped out emotionally as well. As we turned around the corner there were two men approaching. One I recognized from inside the bar earlier, the other one I didn’t know.
As we got into the car my female friend got into the driver’s side and my male friend started to get into the back of the car. As he was doing this I noticed the guy I had saw earlier inside the bar was gone. The other guy, the stranger was walking slowly on the edge of the sidewalk only a few feet from the parking lot. He was eying us and I was looking at him. I remember thinking man I hope he doesn’t bug us or ask us for change or something. He was definitely giving us a strange look.
My male friend from inside the car told me to take the front seat. I looked down in his direction and commented how that was very nice of him. My eyes started to drift upwards quickly because I saw this flash out of the corner of my eye as the strange guy ran right over to me on the side of the car and before I even knew what happened I looked down to see a handgun pushing against my stomach. He waited for the second my eyes went off of him to make his move. He said “Gimme all you got!” and I replied I had nothing. I was lying. In my right hand I held my jacket and in there was 3 pieces of highly enjoyable Sweet Berry Stride gum, still wrapped! Plus there was my inhaler for if I have any environmental asthma attacks and my cheap ass cell phone which is 4 years old, has no features and is probably worth the cost of two happy meals. However in my pants pocket I had house keys in one side and my ID and about $50 in the other but I keep money folded in my pocket. I never carry a wallet. I don’t like wallets because of the bulge they produce and because in some pants they can be clunky and uncomfortable. So there was no bulge, although I don’t think the light was bright enough to see if there was one anyway.
So I lied to him and told him I had nothing. He said something that I can’t recall. I know it was short. I replied that I just watched a whole hockey game in a bar, as if to explain why I had nothing on me. He turned his attention away from me and towards my friends in the car. My male friend in the backseat hadn’t completely closed the door yet and the man pulled it open and began to address them.
It was then I saw it. The gun was lowered to his side. My thought was to go for it and to try to neutralize the threat. My mind told me to do it. My mind said, go for the gun! My arms and legs did nothing. The anger began to build inside of me as his element of surprise had run its course and my thoughts were shifting from fear to fight. My body would not comply. It was almost like there were two of me at that moment. One was frozen stiff and one was looking on angrily but powerlessly because in order to act I needed both parts to work together. It turned out I only had a few short seconds because before I knew it he was leaning into the backseat almost up to his waist and he had both arms inside the car. From what I found out later he was pointing the gun around at both of them and demanding their valuables.
From outside the car I could not hear or know what was going on inside. All that separated me from this guy was the car door. Looking at him half in the car but with both legs still firmly planted on the ground my next thought was to close the car door very violently. If I did that I could injure him quite badly but the risk was too great. I had no idea where the gun was and if it were to go off suddenly, one of my friends could have been hurt or even killed. I just had to stand there and do nothing. It burned me like you can’t believe.
After he got my friends’ wallet and purse he jumped out of the car and ran like a punk down the street. Once he had what he wanted he came out of the car so fast and was across the street in a blink of an eye. When I think about it now, I think I should have tackled him from behind once he got out of the car and started to run but those few seconds are a blur to me. Maybe it’s for the best I didn’t try. If I had somehow engaged him and the gun was out of the picture, I probably would have killed him. The adrenaline and rage were so high I don’t know what I could have done. I might have snapped his neck or reached into his throat and ripped out his vocal cords.
He ran up Essex Street and I walked out from around the car and watched him run all the way down the block. I’d never been so angry in all my life. My mind was once again barking out orders. It said, go after him! And again my legs did nothing. I heard my friend call from the car; “Is he gone?” “Yeah” I replied, “he’s gone”. They came out of the car and we stood out on the sidewalk for a second trying to process what had just happened. It came and went down so fast. The whole ordeal probably took no longer than a minute.
After maybe another minute or two of processing, we went back into the bar. I don’t entirely remember much in those next few minutes other than I looked down at my hands and they were trembling. I saw my friends try to call the police to report it and I was just kind of standing there. I began to get angry with myself because I felt like I let this guy do this to me and my friends. I began to feel guilt and frustration. I felt like a coward because I had a window, albeit a few seconds where I might have been able to disarm and destroy this desperate person. As the minutes passed by the guilt and anger increased. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
One of my friends who was inside the bar grabbed my hand. I was babbling something about how I should have done something. To be honest I don’t remember much of what I was saying but I remember everything she said to me. She told me that I did the right thing by doing nothing. She reminded me that the person who did this isn’t a man. She also told me that she knew I have a big heart and that I care about my friends but that it was more important that we are all still here and unhurt. I know everything she said is true but pride is a mutha. My sense of right and wrong and my sense of honor are all deep aspects of my being. Who does that punk ass bitch think he is pulling a gun on people and taking things from them? That man put a gun into my stomach and in each of my friends’ faces. He should pay for that. It’s not right. I would never do something like that to another human being because I live by the golden rule. But what good are rules when you are only one living by them? I’m sorry, I’m getting a bit emotional. Where was I?
My friend was comforting me and reminding me life is more important than pride, possessions, and stupidity. It’s not so much that he took things from us but more that he came dangerously close to potentially taking our lives that burns me. It’s the principle. I’m so grateful that I was around friends afterwards who were there to talk sense to me in my senseless state. They kept me from doing anything idiotic and for bringing me back to what’s important. If it wasn't for them I might have have searched the neighborhoods for him all night with very bad intentions.
As it turned out a police car was cruising nearby and actually saw the guy running down Massachusetts Ave. but they didn’t get the call until they were several blocks past him. After hearing my physical description of the criminal they realized that they saw him. We hung at the bar for a while trying to calm ourselves and the police came back a time or two to talk with us and at one point they actually had a guy who fit the description but all 3 of us and the guy who talked to the criminal briefly before he robbed us agreed that it wasn’t the guy. It was just a guy with the same build, height and skin color. He looked like an idiot but he wasn’t the armed robber.
By the way that was another tense moment. They brought us over in a squad car and we sat in the car and they shined a spotlight in front of it so the suspect couldn’t see our faces and then they brought the guy out. We had to look at him for about a minute to confirm who it was and I can’t imagine what that guy must have been thinking. I guess someone saw him run into a notorious address nearby and he fit the physical description but we knew it wasn’t the right guy. I felt bad for him despite his nefarious appearance. He had probably done other awful things but not this thing. I hope I’m wrong about him though but in reality he was hanging out at a shady crackhouse.
They brought him out for us to look at and then they brought him out again when the other squad car showed up with that other guy he spoke to briefly. Then it occurred to me. In a weird way WE might have saved that one guy, the other guy who saw him right before he came to us, from getting robbed by the gun-toting coward. We asked the guy what the robber said to him and he said he asked him where he could get some weed. He must have just walked up on the guy when we turned the corner and began approaching them near the parking lot. Our presence might have saved this guy from being a target but on the other hand served us up as a better target with their being 3 of us with potentially 3 times as many valuables.
We hung out at the bar for over 2 hours after the incident and many friends were there with us to help calm us, feed us drinks or listen to my bad jokes. I think at one point I blamed the Sabres for the incident saying, if only they scored at the end and forced overtime, we would have been in there longer.
I’m left wondering many things and searching for answers I’ll probably never get. I wonder if it was a real gun. It was black, metal and looked the part. I wonder why he gave up on me so easily. I told him I didn’t have anything and he went right to my friends. I found that odd after the fact. I wonder what I would have done if he pressed me. I wonder if he will do this again to someone. Actually, I don’t wonder, I know he will. If he was THAT desperate for $40 and a cell phone he must be spiraling and devolving, probably from a drug habit that he can no longer control and I’m afraid he will do this again to someone else. I hope the police catch him before anyone else gets robbed or hurt by this coward. If I see or read about another incident in the same neighborhood with a similar description, it will break my heart.
As for now, I rode my bike to and from work today and my level of paranoia is very high. The anger and helplessness is still there and I hate it. I’m an easy going, nice person but this incident has taken my smile away for now. Why do bad things happen to good people? I replay it in my mind constantly and instead of thinking what I could have done, I am now worried about what I would do. As I said at the bar after the incident, I have now danced with the devil in the pale moonlight.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Time Won't Give Me Time (4-25-10)
Ever wonder where the time goes? Today I found myself digging through some boxes of “junk” that I stashed in my closet while looking for a particular CD that wasn’t with all my other CDs. Unfortunately I couldn’t find it but what I did find were a bunch of memories that took me anywhere from 2 years ago all the way back to the 80’s. I looked at choices and tried to remember why I made them and what could have been different if I hadn’t decided the way I did. I looked at ideas and tried to remember what caused them and how far I took them. As it turned out I spent nearly 2 hours looking through 3 boxes. Too many items caused me to stop and reflect and there were many items in particular that I had to stop and reminisce about for long periods of time. Things like:
-My dad’s watch – When I was a little person my dad had this watch that had gold plating or some serious gold in it. He wanted me to have it someday but never quite gave it to me. There were so many times where we’d be broke and food was hard to come by but he would never sell that watch because he was going to give it to me someday. He was very prideful and stubborn, two things that he certainly passed on to me, lol. After he passed I looked for and found the watch and I’ve had it ever since.
-A WBNY “$2 Ho Show” Folder – Back when I was a DJ at WBNY one of the shows I did (and maybe the most infamous one) was the $2 Ho Show. I served as the Pimp of the Airwaves and made all of you my listenin’ hoes as “prostitution of the airwaves” was legal. The show featured funk songs mostly but also had a little disco, soul, and oldschool rap. The folder contained playlists from 1998 I believe, plus charts of which tracks I played by certain artists (so I didn’t play the same tracks each week), scripts for some commercials I wrote and produced, notes on songs, articles, and a reader which was basically a piece of paper which contained important catch phrases, various station IDs and other things I would read off during a show or whenever I got stuck on a break. Man, looking through all that stuff made me feel good. I had the silliest little catchphrases. “Don’t make me cut you!” I often said that on the air but I never meant it. I think the hoes knew. The Pimp was a character I loved to play. My pimp was a lover not a fighter and was more likely to channel Tina Turner than Ike Turner although I did create and perfect the diagonal bitchslap. Again, idle threats. I never gave anyone a diagonal bitchslap. Looking back at all the work I did on this show reminds me that even radio pimpin ain’t easy.
-A “Slow Jams” 90 minute mixtape – In the late 80’s I was coming out of my hair metal phase and Poison, Bon Jovi and Def Leppard couldn’t cut it anymore. I know, I know. I started to get back into rap and that meant Tribe Called Quest, Public Enemy, De La Soul, the Beasties and others. Supplementing that was a growing love for contemporary R&B and the growing sound of New Jack Swing. This was when the soul music was getting suggestive but it wasn’t as full blown graphic like it would be in the later 90’s. This mixtape might have been from around 92, 93 or so.
It was the jam. It had Guy’s Let’s Chill, Babyface’s Whip Appeal, Jodeci’s Forever My Lady, Mint Condition’s Pretty Brown Eyes, New Edition, Keith Sweat, R. Kelly, Tony Toni Tone, Johnny Gill, Tevin Campbell and who knows what else. I’ve always had a thing for good slow jams even if at times I was afraid to admit it.
When I was growing up I foolishly thought I could only be into one thing at a time. That’s why I was constantly switching what one thing I was into almost every year. I think it was me telling me I could like more than one thing but I was young and as I said, foolish. I didn’t quite get the message for a long time. I had the Michael Jackson phase, the New Wave phase, the Rap/Breakdancing phase, the MTV phase, the closely associated hair metal phase, the R&B phase, Grunge, Gangsta Rap, Indie Rock, Etc. At some point in my twenties and around the mid-90’s it came to me, clear as day that I could like everything I wanted. I didn’t have to settle. I didn’t have to choose. Who cares what people think?!?
So this is why I like oldschool, hip hop, abstract, underground, gangsta and intelligent rap. I like new wave, post punk, skate punk, punk rock, indie rock, indie pop, shoegazer, alt-country, brit pop, trip hop, downbeat, funk, krunk, disco, soul, neo-soul, hard rock, adult alternative, soft rock, classic rock, classic pop, electronica, electro-clash, riot grrl, geek rock, math rock, garage rock, oldschool country, folk, classical music, opera, jazz, blues, bebop, beat box, a cappella, freedom rock, dance rock, atmospheric and reggae music. I hope I didn’t forget anything, lol.
-Lastly I saw a yearbook from high school. Goodness I spent a while flipping through it. I saw pictures of friends, girls I dated, people I hated and people who had me scratching my head trying to remember who they were. One thing I got a little caught up on with some of the girls I dated. I found 5 of them in there. It never went too long or too far with any of them and I’m the one who usually broke it off.
Like any teen boy I wanted to get it on with any female with a big butt and a smile and I think about all the times I could have but didn’t do it. Of the 5 girls I dated back in school I had the opportunity to sleep with at least 3 of them. I remember times at a friend’s house where his mom worked overnights and we’d have get-togethers there and I would be alone in a room with one and I could have done any naughty thing I wanted to. Something always stopped me though. At the time I thought it was shyness but as I got older I realized it was far more than that.
I was really picky. It’s something that still applies today. Back then, I didn’t know what I wanted but I knew what I didn’t want. It’s probably why I led them on back then… unlike these days when I can usually make up my mind about someone in a shirt period of time, back then it took me weeks to figure it out. I wanted to have a girlfriend but not like them. 3 of the 5 girls I mentioned actually got pregnant with the next guy they hooked up with after I passed on them. That scared the hell out of me when I thought about it. That could have been me, a father at 16 or 17. That certainly would have put my life on a different path. After thinking and reflecting on those times I feel lucky and proud I had some self control and certain standards whether I knew it or not.
It made me think about now. How I’m still very selective, not just with people I would date but with friends, acquaintances and more. I guess that’s what these memories in these boxes will do. They’ll make me think of the past, the good times and bad, and then my mind will come to now. I think about the choices I’ve made and how I’ve gotten to where I am. Sure I have some regrets but I would hardly change a thing. Actually it’s probably silly to even think about changing the past because I can’t. Time can give me memories but time won’t give me time.
-My dad’s watch – When I was a little person my dad had this watch that had gold plating or some serious gold in it. He wanted me to have it someday but never quite gave it to me. There were so many times where we’d be broke and food was hard to come by but he would never sell that watch because he was going to give it to me someday. He was very prideful and stubborn, two things that he certainly passed on to me, lol. After he passed I looked for and found the watch and I’ve had it ever since.
-A WBNY “$2 Ho Show” Folder – Back when I was a DJ at WBNY one of the shows I did (and maybe the most infamous one) was the $2 Ho Show. I served as the Pimp of the Airwaves and made all of you my listenin’ hoes as “prostitution of the airwaves” was legal. The show featured funk songs mostly but also had a little disco, soul, and oldschool rap. The folder contained playlists from 1998 I believe, plus charts of which tracks I played by certain artists (so I didn’t play the same tracks each week), scripts for some commercials I wrote and produced, notes on songs, articles, and a reader which was basically a piece of paper which contained important catch phrases, various station IDs and other things I would read off during a show or whenever I got stuck on a break. Man, looking through all that stuff made me feel good. I had the silliest little catchphrases. “Don’t make me cut you!” I often said that on the air but I never meant it. I think the hoes knew. The Pimp was a character I loved to play. My pimp was a lover not a fighter and was more likely to channel Tina Turner than Ike Turner although I did create and perfect the diagonal bitchslap. Again, idle threats. I never gave anyone a diagonal bitchslap. Looking back at all the work I did on this show reminds me that even radio pimpin ain’t easy.
-A “Slow Jams” 90 minute mixtape – In the late 80’s I was coming out of my hair metal phase and Poison, Bon Jovi and Def Leppard couldn’t cut it anymore. I know, I know. I started to get back into rap and that meant Tribe Called Quest, Public Enemy, De La Soul, the Beasties and others. Supplementing that was a growing love for contemporary R&B and the growing sound of New Jack Swing. This was when the soul music was getting suggestive but it wasn’t as full blown graphic like it would be in the later 90’s. This mixtape might have been from around 92, 93 or so.
It was the jam. It had Guy’s Let’s Chill, Babyface’s Whip Appeal, Jodeci’s Forever My Lady, Mint Condition’s Pretty Brown Eyes, New Edition, Keith Sweat, R. Kelly, Tony Toni Tone, Johnny Gill, Tevin Campbell and who knows what else. I’ve always had a thing for good slow jams even if at times I was afraid to admit it.
When I was growing up I foolishly thought I could only be into one thing at a time. That’s why I was constantly switching what one thing I was into almost every year. I think it was me telling me I could like more than one thing but I was young and as I said, foolish. I didn’t quite get the message for a long time. I had the Michael Jackson phase, the New Wave phase, the Rap/Breakdancing phase, the MTV phase, the closely associated hair metal phase, the R&B phase, Grunge, Gangsta Rap, Indie Rock, Etc. At some point in my twenties and around the mid-90’s it came to me, clear as day that I could like everything I wanted. I didn’t have to settle. I didn’t have to choose. Who cares what people think?!?
So this is why I like oldschool, hip hop, abstract, underground, gangsta and intelligent rap. I like new wave, post punk, skate punk, punk rock, indie rock, indie pop, shoegazer, alt-country, brit pop, trip hop, downbeat, funk, krunk, disco, soul, neo-soul, hard rock, adult alternative, soft rock, classic rock, classic pop, electronica, electro-clash, riot grrl, geek rock, math rock, garage rock, oldschool country, folk, classical music, opera, jazz, blues, bebop, beat box, a cappella, freedom rock, dance rock, atmospheric and reggae music. I hope I didn’t forget anything, lol.
-Lastly I saw a yearbook from high school. Goodness I spent a while flipping through it. I saw pictures of friends, girls I dated, people I hated and people who had me scratching my head trying to remember who they were. One thing I got a little caught up on with some of the girls I dated. I found 5 of them in there. It never went too long or too far with any of them and I’m the one who usually broke it off.
Like any teen boy I wanted to get it on with any female with a big butt and a smile and I think about all the times I could have but didn’t do it. Of the 5 girls I dated back in school I had the opportunity to sleep with at least 3 of them. I remember times at a friend’s house where his mom worked overnights and we’d have get-togethers there and I would be alone in a room with one and I could have done any naughty thing I wanted to. Something always stopped me though. At the time I thought it was shyness but as I got older I realized it was far more than that.
I was really picky. It’s something that still applies today. Back then, I didn’t know what I wanted but I knew what I didn’t want. It’s probably why I led them on back then… unlike these days when I can usually make up my mind about someone in a shirt period of time, back then it took me weeks to figure it out. I wanted to have a girlfriend but not like them. 3 of the 5 girls I mentioned actually got pregnant with the next guy they hooked up with after I passed on them. That scared the hell out of me when I thought about it. That could have been me, a father at 16 or 17. That certainly would have put my life on a different path. After thinking and reflecting on those times I feel lucky and proud I had some self control and certain standards whether I knew it or not.
It made me think about now. How I’m still very selective, not just with people I would date but with friends, acquaintances and more. I guess that’s what these memories in these boxes will do. They’ll make me think of the past, the good times and bad, and then my mind will come to now. I think about the choices I’ve made and how I’ve gotten to where I am. Sure I have some regrets but I would hardly change a thing. Actually it’s probably silly to even think about changing the past because I can’t. Time can give me memories but time won’t give me time.
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