1.31.2001
'sup y'all. 9:30 club indeed- was very pleased to get a chance to view that stage from a different perspective. gotta do that one again...
but the real deal story of the year thus far is "JACKED, REJACKED, UNJACKED" a grand and epic tale of stupidity, heist and reprieve. goes like this: we do the show at the 9:30 club for personal pleasure and in furtherance of our ultimate goal of going broke by the end of this year (dope bands cost dope $). lots of folk in attendance, including one nizam ali. the show begins and ends with many eff-ups cleverly concealed by myself and picasso (yet and still it is alleged that we ripped the show). courtesy of the 9:dirty, i drink all of the free beer that they've stashed in our dressing room. we pack up our goods after the whole show is done and proceed to ben's chili bowl, no doubt inspired by the presence of the aforementioned mr. ali (since his family owns the place). i set my bag down, eat, talk, and begin to grow sleepy. we leave, walk back to the car, drive home, THEN SCREAM IN HORROR- i left my bag at ben's. i rush in the crib and call ben's, where to my relief "something was turned in, let me go check for what it was"... "a brand new tennis shoe- that's all". i grow pale, almost rhome-like, then ask- "is it a blue puma with a silver stripe?" "yeah, that's it alright..."
-now, for all those that were curious of the contents of dp's everpresent bag, wonder no more
THE BAG: paper clips, pens, rubber bands, flyers, condoms, bicycle tools (courier forever), ricola cough drops, and mos def/pharoah monche/anti-pop consortium stickers. oh yeah, also a minidisc recorder, a audio-technica stereo microphone, blank minidiscs, rhyme book with the all the ideas and rhymes for the new record(s), zip discs with our bios and photos, all copies of our bio, phone book, check book, watch, work id, and several irreplaceable live recordings. and my metrocheck card. and finally, the new blue pumas (worn once, mere hours before).
SUNDAY: i lay in bed after returning from ben's to fetch my one freakin' shoe (after spending an hour stumbling around the block looking in trashcans and dumpsters for signs of my goods. i nearly bawled like ben stiller at the end of "Something...Mary"). this is a day i will not forget. i have thrown away the only material possessions i couldn't afford to lose. i am starting over.
MONDAY: i eat for the first time since saturday night. work is a blur. i come home to a messy bedroom, where i lay myself on the mounds of dirty clothes and trash and try to find the proverbial silver lining. oh yeah- that was in my bag too...
TUESDAY: after work i hit the gym to "play ball". unfortunately what i do out there now currently does not qualify as such; instead it is much staggering around and fumbling of passes while missing layups and committing turnovers. fortunately i can still play a little d. rhome shows up for the run, and asks if i've listened to the show discs that i recorded. i reply "no" and leave it at that.
TUESDAY @9:39pm: i drag ass into the hell-hole that my room has become. there are minidiscs all over the place. they mock me and my inability to play or record on them. i check my messages and begin returning phone calls. call #3 goes like this:
-"this is darrell perry returning your call"
-"yes, my name is *** **** and i was wondering... were you in ben's chili bowl on saturday night?"
-"[silence]"
-"hello?"
-"uh, yeah- why do you ask?"
-"i have your bag"
-"[silence]"
-"hello? are you still there?"
-"urk, uhm- my b-bag?"
-"it has a little cd player in it right?"
-"urk, uhm- my b-bag?"
-"i met these guys at the club that night and they took us to ben's. one of the guys took your bag- but he forgot it in the car of the guy that took me home. so i took it from him and now i've got your bag"
-"uh, where do you stay?"
we made arrangements to meet outside of her house. on the way over, my longtime roommate and main man winston and i discussed the possibilities. will she really have it? will she just give it back? or will she try to extort some $$ out of me? did she give us the right address? maybe she's setting us up so the cats that first took the bag can shake us both down for the car, cash and our clothes, leaving brothers naked and caught out there in southeast? at this point, we decided that ice cube and biggie STILL held an undue influence over our imaginations. we pulled up and honked as instructed, both of our heads on swivel-mode...
THEN- out she came, head wrapped a la bedtime and filling out some housecleanin' jeans like TTTTTTTHHPPPPPPPPPPPPPPBAAAMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (ain't it ill how even in times of emergency and stress, cat's still can't shake that primal instinct? man is truly beast...) as she approached, i could see the multiple tatoos, including the giant foream joints that most folks are gonna regret in about 2-3 years if not sooner. and over her shoulder was m-m-my bag. "here you go" she says, as she passes me my prized satchel. i thought about how i was gonna make reward posters offering $200 for the return of my isht. i thought about how my roommate suggested i break her off with $30-50. i thought about how even though she waited until tuesday, she didn't really have to look my number up and make that call. then i gave her all the dough i had in my possession at that time- $75 bones. i might not eat this week but i can live on love for a little while, and i love having my 2nd most useful set tools back ('course the brain gets top billing-what'd ya think?). so there it is- i cast my hat in the ring for the title of "LUCKIEST FUTHA MUCKA IN THE UNIVERSE" big ups to *** **** for giving me a good reason to get busy with this blicka joint (blogger- whatever). girl, you and karma are about to be best friends for a loooooooooooooong time.
easy,
naturalaw-dp
ps. my other blue puma was nowhere to be found. got me for metro card too.
naturalaw-dp - 3:59 PM
---
1.26.2001