I was heading from the office to Adams Morgan for the weekly Synergy set and made a stop by DJ Hut to pick up the new Kweli "Waiting for the DJ" jont (how fitting). I park illegally and after a cool chat with Sam the Man I head in to buy my goods, which of course ended up to be more than just one 12-inch single. I get to the counter to subject my wallet to the damage and look over at the cat next to me paying for a fat stack of vinyl.

When the recognition dawned on me my brain spazzed and sputtered out.

Big stocky build, no neck. Zulu Nation pendant. Red, black and green scarf. Quiet voice. It was Afrika Bambaataa himself, just going about the regular business of being a dj.

My slo-mo wide eye blinks were accompanied by little xylophone taps, cartoon style.. All I could manage was a pound and a "What's up, Bam." Then I asked him what he was doing down this way ("working on some stuff with some breakbeat cats in B-more") I don't even know if I said my name. He rolled out and I stood transfixed in the same spot grinning like a silly little fanboy, only slightly self-conscious as I repeated over and over to LaTonya, "That was Bam, THAT WAS FUCKING AFRIKA BAMBAATAA".

I have to make a few things clear. I don't sweat bammas, I'm just not concerned.. I've met heads of state, multi-millionaires, a slew of celebrities from athletes to entertainers to actors. It's whatever, really. If they've done work that I admire I look forward to meeting them but never in a way that's either fanatical or fawning., unless I could have met Pam Grier in her prime or something like that. When I was but a young buck I geeked a little bit when I met a few of my heroes (De La Soul, Chuck D and others) but I was much more innocent and much less jaded. There's also the issue of feeling like peers of a lot of people I've looked up to over the years. So all in all I had evaluated my geek-out potential upon meeting any important figure as slim to none at this point in my life. I'm just not impressed.

I mean, Bam gigs regularly. He still works with the Zulu Nation. And according to Chris Styles he's made regular shopping trips to DJ Hut/12-inch before. It's not like he's some sequestered mystic on a mountaintop somewhere, remaining relevent only in legend. The odds of randomly running into the father of hip-hop really aren't that improbable.

So why did I call DP as Bam's truck pulled away screeching into the phone like I won the lottery?

Because without Bam (and Herc and Flash), I have no idea what my life would be like. He's part of the triumvirate of granddaddies that gave birth to the most widespread cultural phenomenon that black folks have created on this planet. I owe more than 20 years of diligent participation, learning and inspiration to what those cats spawned. Hip-hop is the biggest contributor to the development of my identity. Without them, there would be no us, no Jungle Brothers (Afrika Baby Bambaataa, ha!), Q-Bert, Pete Rock, DJ Shadow, Jazzy Jeff, Public Enemy, drum & bass, beat and dj culture, b-boying, "yes, yes y'alls" and "to the beats". There would be no "Everybody say Ho!" From Puffy, Russell Simmons and Irv Gotti across the spectrum to Def Jux and Sevenheads, their existence all stems from the ambitions of 3 brothers with records trying to rock parties harder than the next man... looking for the perfect beat.

So what could I have said to make conversation with the man that indirectly molded the course of my life? DP thought a "Zzzn Zzznn Zzznn Znn Znnnnnn" would have been appropriate. I just wish I had said "Thank you."

"So tell the people like that y'all, and it sounds so nice, hip-hop you the love of my life."

(Even though your ass breaks my heart these days)

- Stylus

Stylus - 3:12 PM
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10.2.2002