This Snow Gotta’ Go!

The first time i anticipated it. We were long over due. Its New York. Whats New York without the occasional snow day. But now it’s going on some 2-4 new inches every week and we’re not talkin’ growing boys. Enough is enough already, im over it now. I don’t even ski. It’s gotten so bad that i’ve started sleeping with my cellphone under my pillow as my alarm set to go off an hour before i would normally get up for work. This was so i had enough time to call my job and ask if i needed to show up, without disturbing my current coma. Straight to voice-mail, “Frank it’s Jemel-Are we working?-No, okay see ya tomorrow-click!”

I can sleep  Spring, Summer, Fall but in the Winter I hibernate. The cold brings the Yogi outta’ me.  And much like Yogi i hate waking up for anything other than snatching picnic baskets or butt buffing a squirrel. Working is at the very bottom of the list especially in single digit climate driving a kidnapper van in a snowstorm, on icy roads to drop off 20 reams of paper to an office that’s closed . No thanks. The down side is days i don’t work is a day i don’t get paid which makes the months pretty tight. Now I’m 25 and i know where my mom was coming from. Doing what you have to’ do to do what you wanna’ do.  Snow is the only precipitation i know that will take dump on your entire day and make you move it. You go to sleep not a flake in sight. You wake up it looks like March of the Penguins outside. Depending on whether your job puts your life above profits which most cases not you will have to drive in that shit and will probably see 3-4 cars slid off on an angle in opposite lanes of traffic with their hazzard lights flashing on your way there.

When we were kids a snow day was awesome. I’d hop outta’ bed in my superman footie pj’s at the first sight of snow. Then i would run to the television and put it on channel 12 and watch the school closing list. Just waiting to see Martin Luther King Elementary scroll across. Always felt like it took forever. You can swear every school in the world is off but yours, or my mother would tell me to get dressed for school cuz’ she wasn’t half the believer i was. Then I see it and scream, “SNOW DAY!!” and sprint down the hall. “Snow day-yeah yeah, No school today –Yeah Yeah, Its time to play- yeah yeah– followed by “Jemel! Shut the noooiiiisse!!” Mommy just mad she gotta’ wake up in 2 hrs and shovel 7 inches just to warm her car up. Thats what she gets for not believing in the power of Snow Day, Wendy’s don’t close.

But for me it was all about switchin’ into my Long John shivers, my K Mart snow suit and my Osh Kosh Galoshes and throw snowballs at the delivery trucks as they drove by. Try to make a snow Ninja Turtle. I didn’t get to sled down the big hills but i had a rubbermaid trash lid and 6 steep steps with a short walk way guarded by the front gate. Bad idea, but fun all the same. I can’t feel my fingers and toes-whateva’. Snot running outta’ my nose, i didn’t care, wipe it right on my sleeve and keep it movin’. Might lick it-mmmm energy! When my body couldn’t take it I’d run inside and watch Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers with a bowl of oatmeal and cocoa. Then run back outside and do it all again.

Not anymore.  You already accepted the fact you’re gonna’ be late to work cuz’ theres no way in hell you’re rushing around in this mess. You figure they want you there so bad then they can wait. You’re right! So now you gotta layer up. Tshirt, under the thermal, under the sweater, under the hooded sweatshirt under the windbreaker under your bomber jacket looking like an insulated everlasting gobstopper. Then your 3 pairs of pants and 4pairs of socks. If “The Day After Tomorrow” happened today you’d be ready. Search around a good 15 mins for your keys throw your boots on and grab your snow scra–damnit you left it in the car. SHIT!

Now you gotta shovel your way to your car door and knock the snow off with your forearm. Clear the snow from the key whole, unlock the door and get in..Damn! The locks froze. You can’t be serious. Now you twistin’ your key back in forth tryin’ not to break it off in the damn thing till you finally get it unlocked. You pull the handle but the door doesn’t budge. Now you’re yanking at it till you almost fly back and bust your ass on the sidewalk. After all that work you have a seat. Stick your key in the ignition, flick your wrist-tic tic followed by the sound of a car engine with influenza, bronchitis, and strep throat at once. Not now it’s too cold for this shit–tic tic-cr-crr-cccrrrraaannnkk it up… Yessss!

You grab the scraper and start brushing off the snow. Then you realize you didn’t leave your wipers up so their frozen to your windshield. Now you can’t get the full motion intense scrape action you want. So now you gotta be firm yet careful so you don’t snap the damn things. It shouldn’t be this hard. You’ve been out here 15 mins now and the ice still isn’t coming off. Duh you forgot to put the defrost on. Not only that you forgot to turn the heat on also. Your car feels like you sat in a gas guzzling igloo. You step back out and continue clearing off the rest of you windows and shoveling around your car and as you’re doing that a fucking snow plow throws a whole batch of salted slushy street snow all over you, your work clothes, and where you just shoveled. MotherF*cker!

Now you’re pissed off cuz’ you gotta go back inside and change while your car is heating up. As you storm off in utter annoyance you just happen to miss that strip of black ice under your next step-Bblooooop! You’re on your ass. The mailman looking at you, neighbors kids laughing, your hand hurt and you feel like you might have broke your ass bone. Now you limping/waddling/shuffling the rest of the way back to the house.

While you’re getting yourself together  and rubbing your ass  you’re cursing out everybody and everything. The weatherman for not showing more concern in his voice when giving the report or else maybe your boss might have felt more. sympathetic. Everybody that’s sitting at home watching the price is right and reality show reruns all day in their drawz’ while you risk life and limb just trynna’ start your piece of shit car can suck a big snowball ’till they catch a brain freeze. Just relax. Another 20 mins and a cup of coffee and you’re ready to go back out there. Your hand still stings a bit and your ass will probably bruise but you’re ready to get back in the game.

You step outside and survey the entire landscape and happy feet shuffle all the way back to your vehicle. Scrape and brush the remainder off your windshield and take a seat in your car. You put your foot on the brake and throw your car in drive, hit the gas and vvvvvrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwmmmmmmmmmmm!!!!!! Tire just spinning and burning. Let’s try reverse…vvvrrreeeeewww!! Drive…vvvrrreeeeewww!! Reverse…vvvrrreeeeewww!! Drive…vvvrrreeeeewww!! WTF i quit I’m calling the job and telling them I’m stuck in a ditch somewhere, my car died, i got caught under an avalanche, it don’t matter. They can fire me for all i care Shiiiiitttt I’m taking my ass back to bed. I just don’t have love for the snow since it became so much damn work.

The Guide For A Token Black Guy: Dancing Machine

Carleton Mid Swing

A lot of people aren’t aware of the duties and responsibilities of being the Token Black Guy.  There’s a lot involved. Theres an entire race on our shoulders during moments of ethnic solitude, Especially at social engagements where Rap/Urban or Dance music is played. Some of the greatest dancers and performers have been of African American heritage. I grew up watching MJ, Prince, and James Brown. Great performers but a lot of what made them so awesome wasn’t the move itself but the confidence and swag they had when doing it. Michael wasn’t the first person to moonwalk. James Brown wasn’t the first to do a trick with the mic stand. They borrowed from others. As the token black guy we have to accentuate our strengths and hide our weaknesses. We have a natural rhythm and style about us. Use it if the opportunity arrives. Not to feel like you’re the entertainment but merely to establish yourself and stand out from the pack of people that fall into generic groups like Cola or Corn Flakes. No fun and flavorless. As the Token you are the sprinkle of seasoning or missing ingredient. When people want to have a dance party you are the first person they call or else it’d be a can’t dance party. lol. This is an opportunity for us to shine or stylishly stay low-key.

Know Your Shit

First understand as the token, you’re expected to know how to do all the latest dance moves. Even if you live  Banjo playin’, washboard raking, wine jug blowin’ spoon slappin Bluegrass Kentucky. You’re not always called to do them but you are expected to know what they are. If you’re the only black guy in a room at a party more than likely once the hip-hop comes on all eyes will be on you. Don’t freak its a good thing depending on how you handle it. Girls love to dance. That’s why their always dancing with each other because whether good or bad no other guy is qualified enough to even attempt. When you’re the token you’re assumed to be a graduate of Alvin Ailey or an extra out of a chris brown video. So when the the spotlights on and the beat drops what do you do?

Fake it Till You Make it

Not everyone can be Fred Estaire. Even if you can’t dance fake it, at least be able to give a 3 step sample of said move then grab for your pocket like your phones vibrating. Wave 1 finger to the crowd, “Just gimme’ a sec” put the phone on one ear and your finger in the other and walk away from the dance floor. Embarrassment eluded. If you’re called out to battle. Same deal just bust out a good 3-5 step move then grab your leg like you pulled something, like its an old football or track injury springing up on you at your most vulnerable. In the act of physical expression.. the art of dance. It’s the only thing that’s help you back all these years from making the So You Think You Can Dance auditions or Soul Train if you’re in your 30’s.

Rep with your 2 Step

Nobody said you have to be MC Hammer but having a Super cool 2 Step on deck in case of emergencies like weddings, corporate holiday parties, or bar mitzvahs. Places where your peers may be in a position to take a bad picture of you at your goofiest and post it on the bulletin board by the coffee. Something nice and simple, not too over the top but make it you. Something that says “I dont have to get all funky to be the shit in here ” It’s not as big of a deal when you move into your upper 20’s because you can always say “I’m too damn grown to be dancing like that” or ” I don’t wanna’ sweat in my new outfit or spill my drink”. Those excuses hold weight.  You should not be trying to do Young People Dances if you know your body can’t handle it. You’re gonna’ look foolish out there breathing hard sitting out songs for water breaks. Just wait for the electric slide and take your time. No rush.

Dances that Grown ass Men shouldn’t do:

The Jerk: You might slip on a beer spill, bust your ass and mess your new pants up.

The Dougie: If you’re receding  you might draw some unwanted attention to your hairline

The Harlem Shake: You might throw a shoulder out the socket or some member of a emergency response unit may think you’re having a fit and shoot your ass with a sedative and haul your twitchy ass off to the hospital in a 2010 ambulance.

You wanna step your game up learn to ballroom dance, salsa, tango, chicago step. These dances have discipline and work well for partners and lovers. Lets bring the romance back.  Fuck it Lambada. I know its the forbidden dance but get close. Get Loose. Your girl will appreciate it and you might learn something useful elsewhere.                                          Take a Chance, Learn A Dance

When your in your teens and fresh on the scene its a requirement. You’re not drinking so what the hell else you supposed to do. There’s nothing worse than being known as the black guy that can’t dance. None dancers are just boring. You always see them at the parties hanging a trip lip like they’re trying to kiss their chin and swirling their drink in hand. What they don’t know is their date is thinking about how she wish she came with someone fun or at least a heart beat, some sense of rhythm.

Always Be Yourself , Enjoy Yourself…Who Cares?

The whole point is to have fun and let shit go. Theres no point being Peter Party Poop. I dont care if you’re in a wheelchair, pop your tires in the air and call it the Silly Wheelie. If you have 2 left feet dance in a mean-ass circle till you get it right. If you got one leg hop on one foot while moving your arms in a downward pumping motion and call it the Pogo-Slick. Bet no one will dare step in that circle but you’ll be the life of the party. They might actually think you’re decent in bed.  No point shooting yourself in the foot before you get it in the door. At least you’re trying. It’s all in the confidence and personal touch. I mean check out Carleton :

The walls stay up all by themselves but for some reason people still think leaning against them with an attitude helps. You cant hate the guy that knows how to have a good time but you can envy him.

Now everybody cut loose, Foot loose.