Jason Gilmore Can't Lose

The Year of Parenting Dangerously

2011-08-18T19:28:00.000-07:00

It will go so fast.

That’s what everyone tells you when you have a child, when you’re about to have a child, when you think you want to have a child, when you even look at a child -- enjoy each moment because they go fast. I didn’t really believe it. I was a child once, and, for me, those years weren’t fast at all. 4th Grade: Crawling. 7th grade: Sluggish. High school? So ponderous, I thought we were moving backwards on some Benjamin Button ish.

But I felt that way because I was the kid. The one with no job, bills or serious responsibilities. The one whose greatest contribution to the world was that I more or less single handedly introduced N.W.A. and Public Enemy to my junior high school. (You're welcome.) So, of course time felt slothful, elastic, listless... I had nothing to compare it to.

But this little girl, man. She’s like a different person every day. Yes, one who often screams for no apparent reason at the exact moment that whomever I was watching on TV or speaking to on the phone says something important. And yes, one for whom we’re still changing diapers and snatching crayons out of her mouth and the one because of whom, we are forcibly subjected to the ulcer-inducing Upside Down Show. But Amina is still, besides all that, a different person than she was a few weeks ago or a few months ago.

It hasn’t been an easy year for me. I want film. Well, film costs and 2011 is where I pay. Unless you’ve been paying absolutely no attention at all to me this year, you know that I’ve spent the better part of this year doing everything in my power to push my most recent original screenplay, All the Children Are Insane, into production. We’ve written a business plan, scouted locations, (verbally) hired some cast and most of our crew, developed an in-depth marketing plan, gotten the script to the manager of our first choice to play the eldest brother… and then, silence. Well, that’s not all the way true. My producing partner, Will Clevinger, and I, are still courting and meeting with potential investors and more or less living our lives as though we’ll be shooting the film next week. But in terms of the level of physical activity I had, in, say, May, things have slowed a bit. And while this film is far closer to being made than any of my other scripts, I have had my fair share of the doubt and despair common to all filmmakers trying to bring a new vision into a more or less apathetic world. Which I'm sure has not always made it easy to share a house with me.

So I am thankful that Amina brings perspective. Though I’m clearly her second favorite parent by a country mile, it is a fact that she said my name first and kissed me on the lips first. (I'm a dad, that's really all I need.) She doesn’t care where I’ve been all day or whether or not I’m grumpy. She knows who I am and she wants my approval, affection and attention. It’s that simple. And food. She wants a lot of that also. And no matter where my head is when I come through the door, she lifts my spirits without saying a word. (Or at least a word that I can understand.)

Which is not to say that we don’t get on each other’s nerves sometimes. She’s kind of a rough little girl and reacts to any form of discipline like a gangster in 1930s Warner Brothers films. And, once, just once, I would like to wake up on my own. And the approval, affection and attention thing has its limits: The last time that my wife and daughter left me home alone, I was so excited, I couldn’t even settle my brain to figure out what I wanted to do. So, of course, I ended up doing nothing.

Many parenting rules/cliches have been proven true already:

1) I love her more than I love myself. (Which says a lot because I'm on some serious Jasonphilia.)
2) The first time I disciplined her for being defiant, it hurt me more than it hurt her. (I think.)
3) I see the best of myself and my wife in her.
4) Raising a child produces (or unleashes) reservoirs of patience previously undiscovered.
5) Just because it is on the floor does not mean one should try to eat it.
6) Hiding my car keys under the couch is NOT COOL, infant or not.

I am, almost always, in search of the future; unable to assess how far I’ve come because I was ignoring the journey. But with Amina, finally, I’m present day like never before. I’m not looking forward to her being 10 or 16 (God, no) or 26. I recognize these things will happen, Lord willing, but I’m content to see each day and each change, each minor movement in her life.

What I failed to accept from the Holy Bible (Matthew 6:34) or from the parts of my life that were accelerated (Hi Pittsburgh!), Amina has taught me in her own little way: the future will be here faster than you think.

Happy birthday my Mina face.

Love,
Da-da

RIP Amy Jade Winehouse

2011-07-25T10:20:00.000-07:00

It's okay in the day I'm staying busy

Tied up enough so I don't have to wonder where is he

Got so sick of crying

So just lately

When I catch myself I do a 180

I stay up clean the house

At least I'm not drinking

Run around just so I don't have to think about thinking

That silent sense of content

That everyone gets

Just disappears soon as the sun sets

This face in my dreams seizes my guts

He floods me with dread

Soaked in soul

He swims in my eyes by the bed

Pour myself over him

Moon spilling in

And I wake up alone

If I was my heart

I'd rather be restless

The second I stop the sleep catches up and I'm breathless

This ache in my chest

As my day is done now

The dark covers me and I cannot run now

My blood running cold

I stand before him

It's all I can do to assure him

When he comes to me

I drip for him tonight

Drowning in me we bathe under blue light

His face in my dreams seizes my guts

He floods me with dread

Soaked in soul

He swims in my eyes by the bed

Pour myself over him

Moon spilling in

And I wake up alone

And I wake up alone

And I wake up alone

And I wake up alone

"Wake Up Alone" by Amy Winehouse

RIP

The Man Who Would Be King

2011-07-16T16:16:00.000-07:00

I originally wrote this around the time Brooklyn's Finest came out. Wesley Snipes saw it and even though he never commented on it, he began following me on Twitter shortly thereafter. Then I pulled it because I hoped to have it published in a prominent film journal that shall remain nameless. But they gave me crickets, so I'm bringing it back. Hope you likes. And, yes I will say it - Free Wesley Snipes.

The Man Who Would Be King

Jason Gilmore on Wesley Snipes

To talk about Wesley Snipes in a historical context, you almost have to reach back to Woody Strode - the former pro athlete turned actor -- to get such a raw mixture of athleticism, stage presence and charisma, clustered in a dark-skinned, high-cheekboned package, that, while not conventionally handsome, has sent more than their fair share of female hearts swooning. The two men have the same initials, sure, and were born six days apart, but Woody came of age at a time when comedic roles or dancing roles would've meant playing the buffoon. As a result, he was unable to show his range as an actor until well into his 50s. And he never had the opportunity to become a major star.

This is an important distinction. Let's be clear: Denzel Washington took the Sidney Poitier template and ran to the moon, just as Kobe Bryant took Michael Jordan’s and did the same. But there was no real blueprint for Wesley Snipes, no rational explanation for the variety of ways that he electrified audiences throughout the 1990s. In a row they came: his magnetic star turn as Nino Brown in New Jack City, the savvy basketball hustler Sidney Deane in White Men Can't Jump, the blond, evil warlord Simon Phoenix in Demolition Man, the first commercial black superhero as Blade.

The 1991 double punch of Jungle Fever and New Jack City certified it: Wesley Snipes was a star. Action scripts began to pour in and the first he signed onto, Passenger 57, was an absolute smash. He filled a nice void. He was the first black man regularly kicking butt in mainstream Hollywood films, ever. Others had tried. Jim Brown. Fred Williamson. But they were too early. Jim Kelly? He couldn’t even stay alive through Enter the Dragon. Then, by the ‘80s, it was all about making people laugh. The biggest black stars were comics. By the end of the decade, however, even those blacks were asserting themselves more. Eddie Murphy played an African prince in the ever popular Coming to America, then directed himself in the maligned but profitable Harlem Renaissance-era comedy Harlem Nights. Arsenio Hall injected a badly needed dose of soul into late night television, with his groundbreaking, eponymous talk show. By the 1990s, thanks in no small part to the popularity of rap music, our collective distance from segregation, and the emergence of take no prisoners black filmmakers like Spike Lee and John Singleton, the stage had been set for a black man to save everybody on the plane, without breaking a sweat. A brash star was needed for a brash decade.

He was a real alpha male, the kind black Hollywood hasn’t seen since. Denzel was the man, but of course he was the man, he was Denzel. He was an ideal. Something about Wesley Snipes screamed accessibility. If Denzel was The Beatles, Snipes was the Rolling Stones. Anti-establishment. Rough around the edges. Who in the hell let this guy in the door? But it was all deception. He wasn't that rough around the edges. He was an actor. In 1995 he starred in three movies, in which he played 1) a drag queen, 2) a New York City transit cop and 3) a married man who shares a tender, non-sexual night with a vulnerable, separated Angela Bassett. An actor. An actor without limits, who surpassed Hollywood's expectations, then the African-American community’s, then found himself more or less blacklisted and relegated to straight to DVD bins at Best Buy.

WESLEY TRENT SNIPES was born on July 31st, 1962 in Orlando, Florida. His father was an aircraft engineer, his mother a teacher’s aide. They divorced when he was an infant. He grew up in the Bronx, where, as he recently said, ‘The Bronx teaches you to survive. It's like, ‘Bring it on!’” He was a small, tough child, who gravitated to martial arts early and thought, deep into his adolescence, that he wanted to be a dancer. His aunt entered him in talent shows as a child, which resulted in his being cast in an off-Broadway play in middle school. After attending I.S. 131 and the LaGuardia High School of Music and Art (best known as the school from Fame), his life was thrown into a tailspin when his mother -- concerned about their rough neighborhood -- decided to move the family back to Orlando. The pace of the south bored him, but it was in the drama department at Jones High School that he fell in love with acting.¹ He did puppet theater and mime for several competitions, and starred in school productions of The Odd Couple and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. After graduation, he caught a Greyhound bus back to New York and enrolled at the prestigious theater program at the State University of New York at Purchase (Edie Falco, Stanley Tucci and Ving Rhames were there around the same time). Being one of a handful of black students there was difficult for Snipes. He found solace in the teachings of Malcolm X and became a Muslim.

After leaving the school, he got married, and, like many actors, worked an assortment of odd jobs to provide for his young family, while auditioning for various parts. His athleticism served him well: his screen debut was as a high school football player (at the age of 24) in the Goldie Hawn-starring, Bad News Bears knockoff Wildcats. (It was also the screen debut of Snipes’s future comrade Woody Harrelson.) The same year, he played a boxer in the underrated Streets of Gold, holding his own alongside brooding upstart Adrian Pasnar and the great Klaus Maria Brandauer. Even in this early stage, the vintage Snipes persona is almost fully formed: street smart, hip, boisterous, yet with great comedic timing.

A year later, he was chosen by none other than Martin Scorsese to play Michael Jackson’s bully in the long version of the video for “Bad.” It was only supposed to be a three day shoot, but it turned into nearly a month. Jackson's high performance level, even in rehearsal, inspired Snipes, even as the higher visibility opened new doors. Spike Lee saw him in “Bad” and wanted him to play a small part in Do the Right Thing. Snipes declined, to take a bigger part in the box office smash, Major League. Playing another athlete, Snipes dazzled as the brash, flamboyant speedster Willie Mays Hayes.

But Spike was persistent, and he kept after Snipes, casting him as saxophonist Shadow Henderson in Mo’ Better Blues. As leader of the Bleek Gilliam Quintet, Gilliam (Denzel Washington) and Henderson are in competition almost from the beginning, over solos, over women, over the direction of the band. Spike shot of the lot of the confrontational scenes in the movie hand held, which added to the tension between these two dynamic actors. Snipes worked overtime to mimic the finger movements of a veteran sax player. The end result is one of the most realistic looking bands in cinema history. (Of course, it helped that the band's drummer, Jeff "Tain" Watts, is an actual jazz drummer.)

On the last day of shooting Mo' Better Blues, Spike told Snipes that he had “something for him.” Something turned out to be his first lead role, as architect Flipper Purify in the controversial Jungle Fever. Lost in the contention over the film’s frank discussions of interracial dating and Samuel L. Jackson’s star making turn as Flipper’s crack addict brother, Gator, was Snipes’ subdued portrayal. Flipper Purify is the least “hip” character of his career to date. He speaks with a nasal tone that is unsettling, his body language is rigid. Snipes struggles a bit with it, especially when his character gets upset, in the scene with Lonette McKee after she throws him out of their home for cheating.

Still, Jungle Fever established that he could carry a movie -- that he could play roles that did not require him to be slick or shoot a gun or play a sport. He had another admirer, screenwriter Barry Michael Cooper, who had been looking for sometime to write a fictionalized story on the exploits of legendary Harlem kingpin Nicky Barnes. The original script, by Thomas Lee Wright (who had also written an uncredited draft of The Godfather, Part III) was rewritten by Cooper, who had Wesley Snipes in mind for the role of enterprising drug dealer Nino Brown.²

Brown is the head of Cash Money Brothers, a brutish group of childhood friends that introduce crack cocaine to late 1980s New York City. A pair of renegade cops (Ice-T and Judd Nelson) lead a team trying to bring them down. Pookie (Chris Rock), a former stick-up kid turned recovering crack addict, is recruited to work undercover to help them gather incriminating evidence. Arrogance divides Nino from his gang and leads to their downfall.

Nino Brown was an anomaly amongst movie drug lords. He was highly intelligent and articulate and -- despite the litany of heinous things he does throughout the course of the film -- funny and engaging. He is both the most and least likable person in the movie. He is also one of the most consistently quotable characters in film history. Witness:

“Cancel this bitch! I’ll buy me a new one.”

“Sit your five dollar ass down before I make change.”

“You gotta rob to get rich in the Reagan era.”

“Yeah, we takin’ over the Carter. We gon’ bum rush the whole damn thing. Now if the tenants cooperate, oh, it’ll be lovely. They’ll be loyal customers, if not, fuck it, it’ll be like in Beirut, they’ll be live-in hostages.”

This was all very exciting to quote in 1991, just as it must’ve been exciting to quote Cagney sixty years before (“...there you go with that wishin’ stuff again. I wish you was a wishing well. So that I could tie a bucket to ya and sink ya”). Oh, and if you, at any point in the ‘90s, said, “See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya,” you too, were quoting Nino Brown.

Think back on all your favorite movie gangsters of the twenty years that preceded New Jack City: trot out your Michael Corleones and Tony Montanas and whomever else you want. None of them, not one, jump as quickly and convincingly from alluring to evil as Nino Brown. What is most amazing about the character is that there isn’t much of an arc. He begins the movie evil and ends the movie evil. (He throws a white businessman off a bridge, in broad daylight, three minutes into the movie.) The only thing that escalates are the levels of his insolence and paranoia. The only time he even seems human is seconds before he murders his best friend. It really shouldn't have been as effective as it was, but Snipes’ enchanting coldness keeps us spellbound. Wesley Snipes should have received an Oscar nomination for New Jack City, and if anyone besides Anthony Hopkins were running that year for any film other than Silence of the Lambs, he should’ve won.

The influence that New Jack City and Snipes’s portrayal of Nino Brown had (and continues to have) over the African-American community was monumental. It was everywhere. Even now, nearly twenty years later, Snipes recently told Parade, “It was interesting to watch how Nino, who I played in New Jack, became this urban folk hero of sorts. Guys would actually come up to me and say, ‘Yo, Snipes, I’m the real Nino. That’s me.’ It was like a badge of honor and they wanted me to be patting them on the back or buying drugs from them. I'm not with that.”³ Of course, it’s all over hip-hop. Rap megastar Lil’ Wayne has named not one, but three albums Tha Carter, in tribute to his own last name, sure, but also in tribute to the apartment complex that Nino Brown used as the headquarters of his drug empire. (Not to mention the obvious tribute his label, Cash Money, is paying to Nino’s gang.)

Snipes and Harrelson would team again in 1992’s timeless White Men Can't Jump, playing hustlers who learn about life and friendship and love on the raffish outdoor basketball courts of Los Angeles. The role was vintage Snipes, he was better cast here than possibly any other movie in his career. In one film, all his strengths came together: his street tough bravado, thoughtful dramatic chops, brilliant comic timing and raw athleticism (a basketball film starring guys who can play!). The “opposites attract” chemistry hinted at in Wildcats was proven to be dynamic. Both stars in their own right, Snipes and Harrelson bounced off each other as effortlessly as Martin and Lewis.

Sidney Deane (Snipes): Hey hey man, what's the score? Yo! Chump! I'm talking to you! I'm talking to the fucking air.
Billy Hoyle (Harrelson): My name ain't chump, it's Billy Hoyle.
Sidney Deane: Billy Hoyle. BILLY HOYLE. Billy Hoyle. Okay Billy... can you count to ten, Billy?
Billy Hoyle: Yeah.
Sidney Deane: Good. What's the score... Billy?
Billy Hoyle: I don't know.
Sidney Deane: Then you're a chump.
Billy Hoyle: I may be a chump. I just said that wasn't my name.

The two brought out the best in each other, until they brought out the worst in each other, in 1995’s disappointing Money Train.

Snipes starred in another action film, Drop Zone, then took another dramatic turn in Sugar Hill, playing Roemello Skuggs, a drug dealer trying to go straight. His mercurial brother, Raynathan (Michael Wright) is the counterpoint, threatening to pull him back in. Snipes’s performance anchors the film, even as other normally solid performers (Abe Vigoda, a miscast Ernie Hudson) over or under act all around him. When Snipes’s best friend (Steve Harris) is murdered, a grief stricken Wright flies into a wild revenge speech that ends with the trailer-ready line, “This is the flavor that they savor up here, neighbor!” Wright’s performance is erratic, but then, so is his character. Snipes diffuses Wright’s attempts to rally the troops without raising his voice or moving much, while standing at least twenty feet away from him. The scene sums up their characters but it also sums up their portrayals.

The film has great ambitions, but by 1994, all the gangster film cliches had been done to death (Wright’s character even goes so far as to name check GoodFellas right in the middle of the movie) and Sugar Hill borrows a little too liberally from many of them. The ending seems tacked on. In spite of all these factors, or maybe because of them, Snipes gives one of the best performances of his career. He works as Roemello Skuggs because his drug dealer is three dimensional: he is by turns, violent (in one scene, he head butts an arrogant African drug dealer so quickly, you feel like he head butted you), funny (in counteracting the tension between his brother and father -- a magnificent Clarence Williams III, as a more destructive version of Prince’s father from Purple Rain) and sweet (in his lush, romantic arc with the luminous Theresa Randle). We see the weight that he carries -- despite his always cool demeanor -- and that he wants to live a decent life, even if we know, somehow, that the odds are against his getting there. It is cliche to compare his performance in the recently released Brooklyn’s Finest to Nino Brown in New Jack City. But the former is actually closer to his turn as Roemello in Sugar Hill, with all its pathos and wanting to make up for lost time.

The action movies, even as his career ascended, became interchangeable (Boiling Point? U.S. Marshals?) but provided him with the opportunity to also act in low-budget, intimate projects (The Waterdance, One Night Stand). After taking 1996 off and a very humdrum 1997 (the highlight of which was his turn as a Barry Bonds-like player stalked by Robert DeNiro in The Fan), he became the first successful (grossing $150 million worldwide) black superhero in the sublime vampire action film, Blade.

JUST WHEN IT SEEMED like he couldn't be stopped, he was. The 1990s were drawing to a close and, just as he had ridden the tidal wave of the decade’s aggressiveness, conservative times were on the horizon. The trouble began in Ebony Magazine, of all places, where Snipes spoke of the appeal of his (then) Asian girlfriend within the context of angry black women of his past.

“I know we've all been hurt, and we’re all very wounded,” he said in November 1997. “We have to acknowledge that, both male and female, in the Black experience. We’re a wounded people... We don’t want to compromise. We feel like we’ve compromised enough. But in any relationship you have to compromise... And I say to Black women also, brothers who are very, very successful, or who have become somewhat successful, usually it’s been at a great expense, unseen by the camera’s eye.... I want to come home and I don’t want to argue. I want to be pleasing, but if I ask you to get me a glass of water, you’re going to say, ‘Them days is over.’ please. Come on... He doesn't want to come home to someone who’s going to be mean and aggravating and unkind and who is going to be ‘please me, please me.’.... So it’s very natural that he’s going to turn to some place that’s more compassionate.... You’ve worked hard and you deserve to come home to comforting.”

The fallout was swift and immediate. No African-American movie star has become such without the ardent support of black women. News of the quote spread and was discussed and internalized and personalized and misquoted and demonized. Wesley Snipes is arrogant. The fame’s went to his head. He thinks he’s too good for black women. That’s why he’s doing all this martial arts stuff, who this dude think he is, Bruce Lee? Was it true that he physically abused a famous black actress? Snipes threw a couple of well-intentioned alley oops to what was left of his black female fan base: he executive produced and co-starred in the little seen, Maya Angelou-directed gem Down in the Delta (which finally made good use of Alfre Woodard). Then he produced (and miscast himself) as the male lead in an HBO adaptation of Terry McMillan’s Disappearing Acts. But things were never the same.

The early 2000s were quiet, then turbulent. He remarried and had four more children. Aside form Blade’s sequel and (horrible) third installment, there wasn’t much going on. Then, in 2005, Snipes sued New Line Cinema in regards to the last Blade film, accusing them of withholding his salary, leaving him out of key casting decisions and cutting out his scenes in favor of his young, white co-stars.⁴ A year later, he was back in court, facing serious tax evasion charges that have continued to mar his name. In the meanwhile, his slide into the straight to DVD market began, a period where, as he recently told The Washington Post, “They were selling toasters, you know, and they just needed Wesley as the piece of bread.”⁵ Everyone had forgotten him. And another stylish, black action superstar slash thespian had become the biggest movie star in the world in his wake. Again, the same initials, but this guy's name was Will Smith.

In Brooklyn’s Finest, Snipes is well cast as a drug dealer fresh out of prison and looking to get his life back on track. Director Antoine Fuqua has said repeatedly that he cast Snipes because he thought his real life troubles might help mirror his character’s disorientation of being back on the block. Watching him onscreen, one is quickly reminded that it has been at least ten years since we’ve seen him and that those ten years couldn’t haven’t been easy. Acting alongside Don Cheadle, Snipes seems like the elder statesman, even though, in real life, they are just two years apart. Snipes’s movements are measured and when paired with the intense Cheadle, the contrast is startling. As an audience member, it is impossible for us to divorce his absence from our screens from the isolation his character, Cas, projects. It is the same reason why Mickey Rourke was so perfect in The Wrestler. It is ok for art to imitate life.

It is not yet clear if Brooklyn’s Finest is the kickoff to another outstanding decade of work for Wesley Snipes. I hope that it is. We need him -- and actors of his ilk -- desperately in this microwave age, where reality stars have longer television resumes than trained actors who have sacrificed to learn their craft. Robert Downey Jr., a two-time co-star of Snipes (in Murder at 1600 and One Night Stand) has found his way out of a far darker past and has emerged as an Oscar nominee and box office behemoth. The new decade is still undetermined, but it can be whatever we want it to be. And maybe he will never be the star he was, but he really doesn't have to be. To see him, still exciting and thrilling us, still defying the odds after all this time, on a platform worthy of his considerable charm and talent, is (for now at least) enough.

1 http://www.answers.com/topic/wesley-snipes

2 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Jack_City

3 http://www.parade.com/celebrity/celebrity-parade/2010/03-01-wesley-snipes-brooklyns-finest.html

4 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wesley_Snipes#New_Line_lawsuit

5 http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/02/25/AR2010022505178.html

Saul Bass Appreciation

2011-03-21T13:07:00.000-07:00

This guy had some of the most amazing title sequences & posters in film history. Complex pays respect.

Some of my faves:

New blog coming soon

2010-03-04T15:39:00.000-08:00

Stay tuned for new blog from me, coming soon.

This one will probably be deactivated.

Stay posted.

And even more IEP Photos

2009-10-14T00:46:00.000-07:00

More IEP Photos

2009-10-14T00:41:00.000-07:00

IEP (my new short film)

2009-10-14T00:28:00.000-07:00

discoveries and re:discoveries

2008-04-22T22:58:00.000-07:00

What's up good people? What have I been up to? Just focusing on trying to get one of my scripts, Too Marvelous for Words, financed and filmed. I'm getting a budget breakdown and am about to approach an A-list casting director and cinematographer. There are some other things shuffling around with it as well, but I'm a little too superstitious to speak on them. I stopped working on my novel to do some prep on it (researching some potential crew people, doing a rewrite, speed reading through two outstanding books about production: What I Really Want to Do Is Produce by Helen de Winter and Shooting to Kill by Christine Vachon, cutting out tons of pictures to create a "look book" to convey visual ideas for the script) but hope to start back on the last chapter of the middle section next week.

And still watching movies. I just finished the best movie. It's my first Ozu film, Tokyo Story.

It had been recommended to me, indirectly, as something I might want to see for it's minimalistic visual style in relation to Too Marvelous, which I intend to shoot very simply. But Tokyo Story is a great movie. Me and the wife had, like, a 20-minute discussion after it. It's just real. It was shot very well, but what really got me was the story and how accurately it depicts the loneliness of getting old, of raising children who have forgotten you, of the disappointment often reciprocated between parents and their adult children. For it to be a 55 year old Japanese film, it dealt with some highly contemporary themes, ageless themes, in fact. I had heard Ozu was a beast before, but now I'm gonna have to get involved (c) Raphael Saadiq.

Some other recent discoveries (and rediscoveries) that I plan to implement: Kramer .vs Kramer's look, period. That film is so natural. I watched it again a couple weeks ago online via Netflix. Barry Lyndon's au naturale lighting was kind of gutsy for a period piece in retrospect and much up my alley for this project. I just watched Talk to Her yesterday (Habla con Ella por mi amigos espanol) and loved the way Almodovar found a way to make multiple hospital scenes each look interesting. (Yes, my script has multiple hospital scenes. But it does not, unfortunately, have Paz Vega.)

I'll be off work Thursday and Friday to make some calls and take care of some other, more practical business. I've bought some tickets lately, for two shows, that I'm amped about: Sly and the Family Stone in Anaheim on Friday night and the Prince .vs Michael Soulslam in Glendale w/ DJ Spinna on May 2.

You know I'll have the pics and stuff, either here or on MySpace. Just keeping you posted. Holla at your boy.

Musically: rediscovered Beck's Guero and The Information today, as well as Alice Russell's My Favourite Letters. And you need to kill for The Persuaders' "Sureshot."

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMA!!!!!!!!!!!

My interview with Charles Burnett

2008-04-10T20:59:00.000-07:00

1988 MacArthur "Genius" Grant recipient Charles Burnett was born in 1944 and raised in Los Angeles. While a student at UCLA Film School, he directed the masterpiece Killer of Sheep (1977), which details a poor, black South Central L.A. man's emotional struggles in the face of his brutal day job. The film was later named one of the "100 Most Influential Films of All Time" by the National Society of Film Critics and was selected for preservation by the Library of Congress.

Despite the obstacles he faced promoting black stories that weren't deemed "commercial enough," more gems were produced: 1983's coming of age tale, My Brother's Wedding, 1990's ensemble piece To Sleep With Anger and 1994's cop drama The Glass Shield. He was honored by the Los Angeles Pan-African Film Festival this February, where he premiered his epic, Namibia: The Struggle for Liberation, starring Danny Glover. Despite his accolades and a fine body of work, he is far from a household name and faces struggles disproportionate to a filmmaker of his stature in getting his projects financed. Preparing for a trip to Toronto, Burnett chatted about his films, the mine fields of low-budget cinema and why you should never disturb a hippopotamus.

Jason Gilmore: Who were the film directors that inspired you growing up?
Charles Burnett: I was influenced by a lot of people. I suppose a lot of the early black and white films that Hollywood did. (Charlie) Chaplin and (Buster) Keaton and people like that. William Wellman. A lot of the great cameraman that directed.
JG: Jumping ahead a bit, could you talk about the climate at UCLA film school in the late 1960s and early 70s and how that affected your work?

CB: Well, it was great place to be. UCLA was very cheap at the time and it was very diverse in more ways than one. A lot more people of color were there. There were a number of people in the film department. [They] made an effort to bring in a number of Native Americans and Hispanics and Blacks. And Asians, to integrate the film department. It was part of a ethnic communication program that was started and I was one of the TAs in that program. One of the things on campus, when you saw a black person, it didn’t matter how far away they were -- if it was a shadow -- you’d wave and introduce yourself to show the solidarity. The other thing about UCLA that was really great was that you had a lot of working class people there. It was diverse in that sense. And UCLA, the equipment was there so you could go out and make your film. And everyone was really guarded about their projects in Project 1 because it was so competitive. So it caused tension in a good way. And then you learned from other students, you worked on their films and that was the best part about it, you know. You were always on campus, working at soundstage, around the location working. The faculty was great. They really were made up of people who were very open minded. You could argue with them about things, there wasn’t any set way. You could do what you wanted to do to make it work.
JG: That brings us to some of your earliest works like Several Friends (1969), The Horse (1973)and Killer of Sheep (1977). Where did the idea for Killer of Sheep come from?
CB: It came from working on some student films and they were doing films about the working class and the poor and that sort of thing and they were doing movies about shopping and management exploiting workers and workers forming a union and everything was happening. The people I knew were just happy to get jobs. There were all these other things that were impacting them. There wasn’t any kind of solution. So that’s where I came from.
JG: I really admire a lot of the neo-realism of your early work and I was wondering how much of Killer of Sheep was improvised.
CB: It wasn’t improvised. It was all scripted.
JG: Oh, wow. Okay.
CB: There were maybe one or two scenes in there, but 99% of it was scripted.
JG: That’s interesting. So as a director, how do you create -- because that film looked so natural, it looked like a documentary -- and I’m wondering how you can create natural moments like that without looking staged.

CB: Well, that’s one of your goals in making a film like that. You want to look like you just picked the camera up and shot. Documentary-like, but not a documentary. You didn’t want to impose your values on it and make it an obvious, plotted situation. It was supposed to look like a slice of life and form the narrative by the events you see and how they relate to one another.
JG: Right. And I heard that a lot of the actors in that film were locals who’d never acted before. Is that true?

CB: Some of them had dabbled in acting. Henry Gayle Sanders had worked on two films before. And he had the most experience. Charles Bracy, we grew up together and he worked on another film I did. Kaycee Moore who played Stan’s wife, was someone I met. She was going to an acting workshop in Hollywood. I knew that she had done some stage work but it was mostly like workshop performances. And another actor, the bald-headed guy that comes up that wanted Stan to rob for them, those guys were all friends of mine.
JG: What’s the challenge of working with established actors versus actors who are early in the process or brand new?

CB: It depends. You have to work with either one, to get the performance, that’s the main thing. It’s a matter of choosing the right people. A lot of it has to do with giving the person time, some people have talent and some don’t and you discover that right away. A lot of it has to do with you and their trust in you and their knowing specifically what you want. With more experienced actors, you can cut to the chase quicker and get to what you want. They come prepared and have a lot of ideas and things like that and a lot of tools in their repertoire, so to speak. Actors will take their time to mold into the character and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. But you need time to work with non-actors.
JG: A practical question: How did you get access to the sheep at that facility in Killer of Sheep?
CB: One of the interesting things is that, around that time, a lot of vegetarians were making films about slaughterhouses. When I tried to get permission to shoot at a slaughterhouse here, they had closed the doors to all filmmakers. And so I had to go way up to Santa Rosa {about 420 miles} and there was a privately owned slaughterhouse and the owner said that he’d be willing to help anyone that was trying to help themselves. He was very very generous and let me have run of the place as long as I didn’t stop the production.
JG: I’ve noticed how important music in your films. I wondered if you had a particular philosophy on how you’d like music to work within your films.
CB: It’s an added element, you know. It puts you in a creative mood and moment and helps you to reference things and give meaning. So it plays an important part.
JG: Was there a time when you thought you’d be accepted by the industry or did you kind of sense from the beginning that you’d have the independent career that you’ve had?
CB: I didn’t think I’d have any career at first. It was very difficult at the time that we were making films in the ’60s to even think about it. It seemed impossible. Unless you had a relative in the business. Even then, they wouldn’t let people of color make films. They wouldn’t let you be in a position of power, like a director or something like that. The venues just weren’t open.
JG: In 1990, you directed the film that first introduced me to your work and that was To Sleep With Anger. You had a real powerhouse cast with Danny Glover and Sheryl Lee Ralph and the great Mary Alice. I was just wondering if you did a lot of rehearsal for that film and if you are a big fan of rehearsal in general.

CB: One of the bad things about independent film is that you don’t get much time for rehearsal. You come to the set and you’ve had meetings, hopefully, to get everything done, worked out with the actors, either individually or as a group. Because on a low budget film, there’s no money for rehearsal. And even a meeting, you have to be careful how you word having a meeting because they could look at that as rehearsal too. It’s really weird. So you come to the set and you and the actors rehearse and block the scene and they go to makeup and you and the cameraman start filming the scene. And [the actors] come back and you rehearse it again and then you shoot.
JG: One thing that I just learned about you -- and I don’t know why I didn’t know this -- was that you write most of the films that you direct.
CB: A lot of them, I try to, yeah.
JG: Because I’m a writer-director also, so I’m really intrigued by what the original inspiration is for some of your stories. I was really wondering about To Sleep With Anger and where that story came from.
CB: It developed after trying to do a film that was based on a true story. We started working on this film that took place here and then [the production company] started wanting to change everything and make it more “commercial” or something, I don’t know. I said, “You can’t do it that way, it’s based on a true story.” And so we got into this big argument. So I said, let me do something that’s not based in reality. So I started on that and they started putting their hands in the pot again and wanted to make changes. I said, “Wait a minute, you’re taking the whole heart of the movie out.” They didn’t want the folklore stuff in it. They wanted the black middle class portion to be expanded. So we parted ways again. But it was actually a reaction against another film that I wanted to do. I thought since this is fiction, that whatever they do will be okay. But as soon as you started writing and bonding with the material, then they come in and want to screw up everything. The other part of it was that I wanted to do something with folklore and how important it is. How when I was coming up, it was part if a foundation that you grew up to really respect in life. Looking around, you find it’s gone. Without it, I think people are soulless. That’s why I wanted to do something that talked about that.
JG: Then, after that, you did the highly underrated The Glass Shield, which had an early performance from Ice Cube. Was that movie done for Miramax?
CB: No, it was done for CiBy2000. Miramax distributed it.
JG: Oh, okay. So did you have any interaction with the Weinstein Brothers?
CB: Only towards the end.
JG: When was that?
CB: When we finished the film and CiBy 2000 and they took it to them for distribution.
JG: I just finished a book about them. What was that like?

CB: It was interesting. They’re upfront. Harvey is like, if he disagrees, he disagrees. You’ll just leave and box it out. (laughs) And there’s no hard feelings after that. But that’s the way it is. But they’re very straightforward and I have to give him credit for that. They didn’t try to do anything underhanded.
JG: And you also directed some TV movies that I think people might have seen but they might not have known it was you. [a few highlights -- 1998’s Oprah Winfrey Presents: The Wedding with Halle Berry, 2000’s Finding Buck McHenry with Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, a segment of the 2003 PBS documentary The Blues.] What are some of the challenges you faced in working in television versus film?
CB: I don’t think there’s a huge difference. Episodic television there’s a lot of challenges, once you develop the pilot, if you’re lucky to do that, the rest of it you’re just punching the clock. But in a drama, a movie of the week, it’s like doing a low budget film. It depends on who you have to work with. Who’s the producer and what are they like? And how respectful they are. Usually, you don’t have that much money, so you have to shoot quicker. There’s less chances for nuances, I think, because everything has to be explained from top to bottom.
JG: I’m really sorry that I missed Namibia: The Struggle for Liberation at the Pan African Film Festival. Let us know more about it for those who aren’t familiar with the film or your struggle to get it made.

CB: Well, it’s a story about the liberation movement of southwest Africa. Under the leadership of SWAPO, the South West African Peoples’ Organization, under Sam Nujoma who started leading this whole thing in the late 1950s. He went into exile and they sort of waged war in exile…. Germany colonized them and in 1905, they massacred over half the population. After World War I, the German control was taken over by the British. Then South Africa took control and decided to annex them and [made them a part] of the apartheid system. Then, they started to form organizations to rebel. And then finally, came the massacre that happened in the old location, there were shots that killed about 11 of them and that’s when [Nujoma and his supporters] went into exile. Finally, after years of war and attrition, South Africa finally gave up. But with the help of the Cubans. The Cubans came in and really were responsible for a lot of the militia moving out.

JG: Do you have a distributor for that film?
CB: No, not yet.
JG: What was it like shooting in Namibia? This is the first motion picture shot there, right?
CB: Right. Some places you still had wild animals running around. Elephants and stuff like that in the road. We lived in one part of Caprivi, right over by the Zambezi River, at the Caprivi Lodge. There were hippos over at the bottom of the bank and alligators. So when you came in at night, you looked around and when you got up in the morning, you looked around, because you didn’t want to walk into the hippos any time because they were very dangerous. They kill more people than anything. We were shooting in that area and there was an elephant water hose and we were right in the middle of the path to the water hose. Then we shot in Etosha, which is a place where lions and you name it were running around loose and that was interesting. The people were great to work with. It was a great experience because we were all over Namibia from the west coast from Swakopmund and Walvis Bay all the way to the East, which is bordering Botswana and Zambia.
JG: My final question is being a writer-director and a black writer-director, where I’ve been in Los Angeles for eight or nine years and been in meetings where they say, “Oh, we love your script but….” You know, whatever whatever. What are the things that keep you going and continue to encourage you?
CB: I wish I could tell you. It comes down to the individual. How much desire you have to do it. I sort of stay away from that question in answering it because I don’t know how much one can endure. You have to have some kind of support. If you have a family, it’s disastrous, you know, because you don’t work that often. You have kids going to college and stuff like that. I would tell someone they should get a part-time job or do something to support yourself. There’s so many people out of work and so many people who I know who’ve gone on to other things. I don’t know. I do it because I have this optimism that maybe I can do it again. And it gets harder and harder, you know. I haven’t worked since the Namibia film, it’s been a couple years. And you keep going out and hearing, “Oh, we love you” but I can’t get a film.

The Landlord

2008-03-01T14:27:00.000-08:00

I saw the most interesting movie last night.

AFI and The Skirball Center combined to host a series called Cinema Legacy, in which they invite renowned filmmakers to sit in on a screening and Q & A for a movie that has influenced them as a filmmaker. John Singleton was last night's guest and he screened The Landlord, which I had been trying to find for years.

It was the first film directed by Hal Ashby, a seriously slept on Hollywood legend who went on to direct some of the most critically acclaimed films of the 70s (including The Last Detail, Being There and one of my all-time favs, Shampoo). It deals with Elgar, a spoiled 29-year-old rich kid (Beau Bridges) who decides to buy a beat up tenement in Park Slope, Brooklyn. His plans are to kick out the poor black residents and turn the place into a big old bachelor pad. But he is affected by the various residents there and falls for both the troubled but soulful Fanny (played by the sexy, late, great Diana Sands) and the mixed go-go dancer Lanie (the unbelievably beautiful Marki Bey), in addition to falling out with his snobby but liberal family, who are confused by his increasing empathy towards Negroes.

I don't even know where to start. It is clearly a film made by an editor (Ashby was one of the best in Hollywood before getting this break through his director Norman Jewison.) as it is full of Godard-like jump cuts and abstract images. Characters talk to the screen at times and several montages, as Singleton pointed out, are reminiscent of Do The Right Thing. The score, by Al Kooper (just after his ouster from Blood, Sweat & Tears) with help from The Staple Singers is stunning; it has reintroduced the option of finding a talented but versatile popular artist to score certain films of mine. The cinematography by Gordon Willis (prior to his similarly themed work in the Godfather films and Annie Hall) is luminous. (The no-nudity sex scene between Bridges and Bey and the scene where where Bridges and Bey walk back to her place after meeting are particularly beautiful.) Despite the film's occasional revelations that it was hella low budget (there are actually two scenes where one can see boom mics), it is as an honest a treatment of race relations -- as well as a phenomenal document of the general sociological chaos of the early 1970s -- as I have ever seen on film.

I got a chance to holla at John Singleton real quick after the Q&A, which was moderated by Ayuko Babu, founder of the Pan African Film Festival (which I recently volunteered for). People were all around, so I didn't get to say much, except to slip him my card and request to interview him for Intrepid Media. We'll see what happens. But it was an honor to meet him and a lot of the comments he made about remaining true to yourself as an artist really hit home. On that note, I wanted to thank those who reached out to me after my last entry. I'm not going anywhere. I was just sick and had too much time to think.

We're moving into pre-production on the Parkside Boulevard short. So you'll be getting the blow by blow on that soon. And the work on Somewhere Between Here and There is coming along nicely. I actually plan to spend the rest of the day typing up my changes for Chapter 5 and continuing my rewrite for Chapter 4. Wifey's shooting a pilot for BET as we speak. So life is well.

The beginning of the end

2008-01-22T22:42:00.000-08:00

"The doors was closed/I felt like Bad Boy's street team/I couldn't work the Lox." -- Kanye West, "Touch the Sky"

So it's been an interesting last few days in my life. I got the flu for the first time on Friday and was in bed for a couple of days with a 101 degree fever. It broke sometime mid-Saturday and I've progressively felt better ever since. It was good to be off King Day and I took off today just to continue to build strength.

But it gave me a lot of time to think about my present and my future. Lord willing, I'll be 31 years old next month, and I've gotten to an age where I can't keep working at a day job that takes so much of my time (and energy and gas money) and keep writing and fighting to be an artist for the other four hours of the day. I think my body is showing me, dude, you're stressed and you can't keep just working all day and watching TV/writing/reading all night and just hoping that something you write will magically rescue you from this grind. (Especially at the lightning quick rate that people reject and dismiss every single thing I send out.) Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's a number's game and the cream eventually rise to the top, blah blah blah. But I'm almost 10 years in the game and I've got the same won-lost record as the untalented writers. And I'm not untalented.

What I am is aging. So now I'm trying to figure out what else I want to do with my life. I'm even talking with the wife about going to grad school and being a graduate assistant basketball coach. Because coaching basketball is the only other thing I could see myself doing that I wouldn't feel like I'd been wasting my time. Then, I was thinking maybe I just need to learn a trade. Like I should become an electrician or something. And write on the side. That way, if I never find a way to conquer the relentless apathy with which my work seems to leave editors and agents, at least I'll be getting paid handsomely for doing very little work, and can do that very little work as infrequently as I like.

So I'm giving myself two years. I still have to finish my rewrite of my novel (should be done by summer). Still have to finish my short script for Parkside Boulevard and film the pilot. Have a few other things I had planned to do this year. And then, for the first time in a long time, I'll be working on some new short stories/screenplays, etc, probably this summer, and we'll see where they go.

But my optimism is fading. I thought it was my creativity that was leaving me, but it turns out, it's just my optimism. (And if the perpetual optimist himself is doubting his place in the world, you should look for shelter too, my friend.) The writers' strike hasn't helped things either. It made me think about how shook I would be if I was on the other side of the fence and already successful, and now stood to lose my house, cars, kids' college tuition, all because of something completely beyond my control. That would suck too. So either way, it's a tough tough nut to crack and I just don't know if I want to deal with being so unreasonably obscure a writer for an indefinite period of time.

Or maybe it's just time to change jobs.

On a happier note, the wife and I went out to see a sneak preview of Michel Gondry's new film, Be Kind Rewind.

It inspired me tremendously, despite my current gloom and doom attitude. I feel weird going into details about movies that I saw for free at a sneak preview, but I can definitely say GO SEE IT!!! Jack Black, Mos Def, Danny Glover star, as well as Melonie Diaz, whom I liked very much in A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints. Mia Farrow and Sigourney Weaver appear in smaller, important roles. The plot, like all of Gondry's movies, is strange: Mos works at Danny Glover's decrepit, barely in business, VHS rental store. Jack Black is this extra weird cat that hangs around a lot and seems far more trouble than he's worth. Jack gets electrocuted and unintentionally demagnetizes all the store's tapes. The few customers are disgruntled and complain, so Mos, Jack and Melonie (whom they borrow from a local dry cleaners) go Fat Albert-style and use whatever borrowed or stolen props, people, or locations they can to reenact 20 minute versions of each movie for the rental customers. The improbable solution takes off and the store begins to see unprecedented business. Then, the copyright infringement folks show up with their fines and threats of jail time.

The movie starts slow, and Jack Black's electrocution scene is LONG -- past all plausibility -- but those are almost finicky complaints for a film that does such a brilliant job of capturing hope and community and the power of cinema. The entire cast shines. Really, go see it. I love Gondry for the same reason I love Pharrell, because they have somehow found a way to remain 12 years old, in a world that humans seem to age in dog years every day.

As for me, I will continue to do what I can. Until I can do no more.

And then I'll be gone.

the ten albums that changed my life

2007-12-23T19:28:00.000-08:00

ripped from my article at Intrepid Media

10. Rio (Duran Duran, released 5/10/83)

Was Duran Duran the best male pop band of the 1980s? Probably not. But they were the best looking, their videos were the most adventurous and they had the catchiest songs -- even if none of them made any sense. I have just described everything that mattered in the '80s. The three-headed Taylor crew (drummer Roger, guitarists Andy and John), androgynous synth wiz Nick Rhodes, and charismatic front man Simon LeBon were focused and ready to take over the world. This album launched their superstardom and is the solitary reason why everytime I find myself sitting at the front of a boat, I feel compelled to yell, "HER NAME IS RIO AND SHE DANCES ON THE SAND!" Seriously.

Songs you should know: Rio, Hungry Like the Wolf, Save A Prayer

9. Raising Hell (Run-DMC, rel. 7/18/86)

Sometimes it's best to have your back placed firmly against the wall. After two pretty successful albums, childhood friends Joseph "Run" Simmons and Darryl "DMC" McDaniels had reached a pivotal crossroad: commercialize their music by merging further with rock, or stay true to the hip-hop culture of the streets of New York. What resulted was enough of both to make everyone happy, and arguably the most important album in rap history. They singlehandedly made a conservative MTV (yeah, I know) open the doors to rap music and set a bar for cohesion that even they couldn't live up to. There is nothing on this album to add or subtract. It is, as one of the songs on the album states, perfection. RIP Jam Master Jay.

Songs you should know: Walk This Way, My Adidas, Peter Piper

8. It Takes A Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (Public Enemy, rel. 4/19/88)

You will never understand how much I needed this album. The Bomb Squad's production, layered with multiple samples per song in the days before you had to pay for them, was fiery, relentless and unprecedented. ("Rebel Without A Pause" is the dopest beat ever made, period.) Chuck D wasn't even the best rapper on his own label (scroll down to album #5), but his threats felt like promises and his arguments were indisputable. And long before he became better known as the buffoonish headliner of several VH-1 dating reality shows, Flavor Flav was the buffoonish sidekick to the most influential rap group of its' time. But Flav never changed, the times changed. Without his mercurial court jester, the whole thing would've never worked.

Songs you should know: Don't Believe the Hype, Bring the Noise, Night of the Living Bassheads

7. Abbey Road (The Beatles, rel. 9/26/69)

The last Beatles album recorded (though not the last released), the bickering Fab Four had agreed to play nice long enough to end on a positive note. This is their funkiest album and also their most sublime. Abbey Road is the CD I play for my Beatle-hating friends without telling them who it is. Inexplicably, after nodding their head in agreement for minutes, they will ask who's playing, at which point, I will smack them over the head with a picture of Paul McCartney and storm out of the room. "Because" has some of their best harmonies ever. "You Never Give Me Your Money" is just amazing. I liked "Something" enough to put it on my wedding favor mix CD. And I liked the album enough to parody its famous cover on our wedding CD's cover.

Songs you should know: Come Together, Something, Here Comes the Sun

6. Purple Rain (Prince & the Revolution, rel. 6/25/84)

Despite my constant, romanticized comments about the greatness of the 1970s, so far we are seeing where my heart really lies. We will never see the likes of Mr. Prince Rogers Nelson again: part Hendrix, part James Brown, part Dylan, part Sly Stone, and still somehow completely, unabashedly original. I was more a Michael kid than a Prince kid, but the power of this soundtrack (and the accompaying movie, which still moves me despite its glaring flaws) was undeniable. The seamless blend of rock, soul, power ballads and synthesizers was mind blowing then, as it is still is today.

Songs you should know: Let's Go Crazy, Purple Rain, When Doves Cry

5. Bigger and Deffer (LL Cool J, rel. 7/1/87)

"I don't run from the cops/Makin' suckers jock/And I'm only 18/Makin' more than your pops."

Like OutKast's ATLiens, this was the risky sophomore album that could've killed his career. But the gamble paid off and it paid off so violently, that 19-year-old James Todd Smith became the reason I wrote my first rap. I've heard quotes from Bob Dylan fans who say that his songs were clues on how to live your life. Yeah, that's pretty much what happened to me with Bigger and Deffer.

On the very first song, "I'm Bad", his confidence is so adamant, it's infectious. What other song begins with "No rapper can rap quite like I can/I'll take a musclebound man and put his face in the sand?" He delivers well-written, imaginative tale after the other: the all-purpose girlfriend of our dreams in "Kanday," the ins and outs of a run-down local haunt ("The Bristol Hotel"), a vain but witty day-in-the-life excerpt ("The Do Wop"). We all know that rap and testosterone are nearly inseparable. But on track 9, he did the unthinkable. He made a soft rap love song (the legendary "I Need Love") with such gravity that even the haters had to sing along. It was a difficult balance. Go back and listen to Big Daddy Kane's attempts to cover similar ground. They sounded ridiculous, even back then, and precipitated his demise. LL's wild brashness made you want to reach the moon as well. Still does, in fact, 20 years later.

Songs you should know: I'm Bad, I Need Love, Go Cut Creator Go

4. Off the Wall (Michael Jackson, rel. 8/10/79)

It seems funny to say it now, but his career was thought to be dead. Even more dead that it appears to be at the moment, with his face all chopped and bleached, with child molestation charges as plentiful as the Los Angeles air has smog. He was going to be another Leif Garrett, probably, or Shaun Cassidy, a footnote. Whatever happened to whats his name from the Jackson 5? The critical and financial failure of The Wiz -- in which he'd appeared the year before as the Scarecrow -- didn't help. Enter Quincy Jones, the disco era, and one pissed off 20-year-old Virgo. What results is a masterpiece. Dude had Stevie, McCartney and David Foster writing songs for him. It is impossible to leave this album in a bad mood.

Songs you should know: Rock With You, Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough, I Can't Help It

3. Midnight Marauders (A Tribe Called Quest, rel. 11/9/93)

Things I remember as clearly as I remember anything: The day I bought the cassette. The first time I heard it in its entirety. Tripping off the bass kicks on "We Can Get Down." Buying it on CD a few months later. Listening to "Electric Relaxation" for hours at a time. Staring at the cover for days, trying to name every rapper featured. The first time I saw the video for "Award Tour." Arguing with some crazy girl over the dilemma posed in "Sucka Nigga." Hoping that one day I'd grow up to be as cool as Q-Tip. Digging through my parents' vinyl, trying to find the original samples. Spending a late night out with my boy Shawn that was eerily similar to the scenario described in "Midnight." Being amazed at the effortless chemistry between Tip and scrappy co-star Phife Dawg. Many people prefer their previous album, The Low End Theory, but to me, it's no contest. Marauders is more assured, hits harder, and, along with The Chronic, is possibly the most universally respected rap production made in the last twenty years. It gave me permission to be me.

Songs you should know: Award Tour, Electric Relaxation, Oh My God

2. Thriller (Michael Jackson, rel. 12/1/82)

This is like describing the merits of oxygen. I know my limitations.

Songs you should know: Thriller, Beat It, Billie Jean

1. Talking Book (Stevie Wonder, rel. 10/27/72)

C'mon, now. How did you not know that Stevie Wonder would find his way to the top of this list? This is the only album that I own on cassette, vinyl, and CD, as well as the internet. I discovered it sometime in high school and it seems to follow me wherever I go. I directed one of my own plays as a freshman in college and closed it with "Blame It on the Sun." Made it through a disappointing relationship thanks to "Looking for Another Pure Love." (Jeff Beck's guitar solo here is one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard in my life.) Wooed my wife with "You Are the Sunshine of My Life." And I refuse to die until I learn how to play "You and I (We Can Conquer the World)" on piano.

Over Thriller, you say? Better than the album you compared to oxygen, you say? Well, Thriller makes me appreciate greatness, but Talking Book makes me want to do something great. It, like many of the works listed here, was the work of someone who finally burst through after knocking on the door so long. And that encourages me. Because I'm still knocking.

Songs you should know: You Are the Sunshine of My Life, Superstition, I Believe (When I Fall In Love It Will Be Forever)

The next 10 (for those who care): ATLiens, OutKast; The Beatles (The White Album), The Beatles; Late Registration, Kanye West; Licensed to Ill, The Beastie Boys; The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, Lauryn Hill; New Edition, New Edition; Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, Raekwon the Chef; Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd., The Monkees; The Revival, Tony! Toni! Tone; Speakerboxx/The Love Below, OutKast.

oh, what a night (c) Missy

2007-12-19T18:33:00.000-08:00

Last night was bananas.

The home team went out on the town to check out Cornel West and Tavis Smiley in Hollywood. The former was promoting his spoken word CD, Never Forget: A Journey of Revelations. It was a crowded but laid back club vibe, DJ Rashida killed the ones and twos. They played four tracks from the CD and Cornel West commented on each of them, some of his comments turned into mini-dissertations. The knowledge given out was totally appreciated and validated a lot of what I had been thinking.

Then, afterwards, I met David Ritz, author of a host of well-known black music biographies (most notably the one they used for the Ray Charles biopic, and of course, the book I've been obsessing over since high school: Divided Soul -- The Life of Marvin Gaye. I met Levar Burton, which was a trip because I was named after him. Those pics are on the MySpace page. Moms was a big fan of Roots when she was carrying your boy. Hence my middle name. I had an extra cool exchange with Anthony Mackie. Then, came this.

The zoom is ridic on the last one, fa sho, but it was kinda crowded getting to Dr. West and wifey did the best she could. Then, we sat and danced to the 80s and 90s jams and watched some of our hype peers do the Kid N' Play, the wop and the Roger Rabbit. (Amongst other classic moments.)

AND MY PISTONS JUST BEAT THE CELTICS IN BOSTON!!!! Just left a message regarding the game on Michael Bivins's MySpace page. We gangsta like that. They want to come up w/ some new East darlings every year. But we're the dudes. Just face it.

I'm going to have a podcast soon. Probably after the New Year. More details to come. I have the name and the basic concept. But I'll let you know the full, when I have the full.

The most beautifullest white woman of them all

2007-12-03T20:11:00.000-08:00

Elizabeth Taylor has been on my mind the last couple days. It started when I was watching the DVD commentary of The Graduate the other day and Mike Nichols was talking about the experience of directing Taylor and Richard Burton in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and what a contrast that film was stylistically to The Graduate, which he filmed the following year. (The fact that these were the first two films of Nichols's career speaks to what a beast he is -- and continues to be -- as a director, but I digress.)

So that got me thinking about Virginia Woolf and what a great film it is, and how long it's been since I've seen it, and what an impact it made on me when I first saw it in high school. (I really do need to cop it on DVD.) There is a scene in my romantic comedy, When It All Falls Down, that is seriously indebted to it. the main characters, Kenny and Jamilah, have recently broken up, and are bitter at one another, yet still, obviously in love. Kenny reveals an embarrassing secret about Jamilah to her family (in one of those moments where comedy segueways violently into drama) and one of Kenny's retorts, pulled directly from this movie (and Edward Albee's play) is, "And that, my friends, is how you play Hump the Hostess."

Sometimes I get fixated on people and they become omnipresent in my world until I stop thinking about them. My Netflix movies showed up Saturday, and one of hers was there -- The Sandpiper -- which I've never seen, but look forward to. A Place in the Sun, another tremendous influence on me in my film school days, played on Turner Classic the other night, and another of her films, Butterfield 8, (for which she won her first Oscar) comes on in about an hour.

Then, today comes this news item. Only Liz Taylor could do a show in the middle of the strike and get love from both sides. And man, her and James Earl Jones, on the same stage? Where was I at? It's not like I had $2500, but I'm saying.

We just don't have stars like her anymore. She matured from child star to ingenue to true actress (I could imagine cats was clowning when it was announced that she was going to play the frumpy, alcoholic, older Martha in Virginia Woolf. But she gained 35 pounds and came with it, to win her second Oscar.) Her 575 husbands, legendary glamorous gowns, tireless charity work for AIDS, and most of all, the amazing performances she gave in film after film (although it took me years to forgive that Cleopatra b.s.) Much respect.

As for me, I just got done watching the Patriots squeak by the Ravens in a heck of a game on Monday night. My Bengals are frazzled and stumbling as usual. It took my alma mater's upset of #2 West Virginia to make this a not as horrible football weekend.

The short script is just about done. I renamed it Parkside Boulevard, after a street not too far from my house. I grew up on Freeman Street, but hey, face it, Parkside Boulevard sounds better. I've got so many ideas for other stories, scripts, songs, etc. But with the day job and stuff, time is short. I just keeping jotting them down. They will come forth eventually.

Thanksgiving Eve report

2007-11-25T20:36:00.000-08:00

I've had a GREAT four day weekend. The kind that makes it difficult to return to work, as I must tomorrow morning. Spent some quality time with the wife. Wrote a new short, 8 pages long, called Golden Street, an introduction to the TV pilot I'll be writing soon. My wife thinks it's hilarious. I'll do a few revisions and send it off to Rickie Castaneda of Storytime Entertainment who's helping me develop this idea. The plan is to film the short, write the pilot and make it a part of a package as a TV show once the strike ends, whenever that magical day should come.

It's basically a show about growing up in a neighborhood similar to mine in the 1980s. The short is pretty funny. It's loosely based on an old Intrepid piece I did, "The Five Week War," but also makes allusions to some of the show's main characters and potential episodes.

Of course, you'll get all the details as things progress. My Bengals made my day today, opening up the can of beat down I've been waiting on them to deliver all season on the Tennessee Titans 35-6. Both of my fantasy teams have Carson Palmer and Chad Johnson, so I should be sitting pretty this week. My nigga Killa Chad is a fool.

Had an interesting evening. Saw this abstract but ahead of it's time film on the Sundance Channel called Who Are You, Polly Magoo? It's a French film made by an American director, William Klein, about an American model who is the subject of a French TV documentary. It spoofs the modeling industry and has a lot to say about how insecure men try to tear down and objectify beautiful women. The director is played by the recently departed Phillipe Noiret, who film heads may know as Pablo Neruda in Il Postino or from his work in Cinema Paradiso. It was non-linear and confusing at times, like a lot of French New Wave films, but as I said, still enjoyable and worth repeated viewings.

The female lead, Dorothy McGowan, was a cutie pie in that anorexic model kinda way, and amazingly natural, considering that it was her first and only film performance. (Apparently, she quit modeling after the film's release and dropped out of public view.)

Anyways, I'm sitting here folding clothes and listening to the audio commentary for The Graduate with Mike Nichols and Steven Soderbergh. It's both intimidating and encouraging. Trying to immerse myself in a world of film has proven far more difficult than it was in film school. But what can you do?

Chrisette Michele is the truth!

2007-11-21T18:17:00.000-08:00

It's not like I didn't know this. But last night's show at the Temple Bar confirmed it. First, a lovely opening set by Jean Baylor, formerly of Zhane.

And then, the truth. So personable and talented. Evidence the live footage:

Good Girl

Be OK

Speaking of R&B songstresses, Intrepid Media just published my review of Alicia Keys' latest album, As I Am. I'm 50-50 on it, check out the review for the details.

What's hood, y'all? A lot going on, as usual. Me and my homegirl Tab participated in the Walk for Lupus in Santa Monica. A lot of us were there reppin' in memory of J Dilla.

Otherwise, I'm about to start writing a TV pilot for Rickie Castaneda and still rewriting my novel, Somewhere Between Here and There. the writers' strike has kind of slowed down some of my submission momentum, but that's just giving me time to put some more clips in the chamber.

And, finally, a quick Marvin shoutout, because I haven't done it yet.

Photograph Smile

2007-08-28T21:36:00.001-07:00

I don't even have a good excuse. As usual, I've been living, rewriting my novel, fighting the urge to just become a full-time couch potato when I'm not doing creative things. I've done a lot since the last entry and there's a lot I could tell you.

Instead I've come with a peace offering. Photos. Some of them, you may have seen before, but I'll try to keep it unprecedented.

First there was the free Common concert in Santa Monica I went to the day Finding Forever was released.

My feelings with this album fluctuate. (Basically I'm obsessed with "The People," "Southside," and "Black Maybe," am indifferent to most of the rest.) But I'm proud of Com and look forward to seeing him in American Gangster.

My glamorous life as a writer. Look at all the fun I'm having!

The infamous Questlove DJ set from a few weeks ago.

Some pics from my Mom's visit out here in June. The non-ghetto candy related pics, anyway. At our fave seafood spot in San Pedro, the 22nd Street Landing.

Man, everybody's trying to be my stepdad!

Moms trying to figure out how we lost out on our inheritance.

Moms is ill coming off that D-line, yo

Back in February, I did my first photo shoot (as a photographer) for a young shoe designer/model named Amanda Raye. Here's some of the best:

I always loved this one. I told her it would make a great album cover should she ever, you know, decide to become the new queen of r&b soul or something.

Hopefully that will keep you occupied until I hit you with the next stunner. It's been a busy year, and I think the best is yet to come.

Ghetto Candies, Vol. 1

2007-07-24T19:49:00.000-07:00

My mom's visit to Los Angeles was therapeutic, I think, for us and for her. (She got to escape the T for a minute and I got to escape the j.o. Fair trade.) Holla @ me on Facebook if you trying to see all the pictures and stuff.

But I'd like to direct your attention to the San Pedro portion of our trip. The part when we went to go see this place.

Me and Tree had been there before, but stepping in was like a window into my childhood.

And it got me reminiscin' on the ghetto candies of 'hoodmas past. Like:

That's right. I come straight for the chest right out the gate. Never has fake citrus been so appreciated as when these ol' sour Lemon Heads hit the 'hood. I remember cats would get called stingy for like, half their childhood, if they had some of these on them and didn't share. (And you didn't want to get called stingy. It was like having leprosy.) I don't know why we was acting like times was so hard. The corner stores back in T-Town was charging like a quarter for these bad boys back in the '80s. They was straight golden, no pun intended.

The fundamental staple of any 'hood diet.

Plus, once you emptied the box, it made a nice harmonica.

Lemon Heads was the gateway "teeth rotter/on the way to diabetes already and a ni**a's only nine" candy. From the same evil monarchy that kept mad dentists in business came:

I almost fainted when I saw some of these candies, dog. Alexander the Grape? In the summer of '85, I saw Bill Armstrong get dropkicked in the larynx over some Alexander the Grape! Even now, as an adult, I considered holding the place up to get some Johnny Apple Treats. Boston Baked Beans was hit or miss. But I guess getting me to eat anything affliated with Boston while this guy was terrorizing my Bad Boys was akin to the Camp David Agreement.

You've gotta give it to those cutthroat capitalists over at Ferrara Pan. It was a nifty way to introduce kids to fruits without actually making want to eat actual fruits. Which leads me to my next ghetto candy:

Wrong wrong wrong wrong on so many levels. To my knowledge, there were two variations on this candy. There was the kind that was more prevalent in my hood, where it was a candy and the end of the tip was painted pink to suggest a lit cigarette. Then, there was the kind in San Pedro, which my wife said she grew up with.

1) Cigarette looking paper conceals the gum inside. Perfect for faux Don Johnson-look by Miami Vice watching nine-year-olds.

2) Blow the cigarette and real smoke comes out. Perfect for addicting small children to the real thing!

3) Peel off the paper and chew the gum inside. Fun for the whole family!

While we were talking about Philip Morris's feeder system, disguised as harmless childhood fun, my Mom told us that when she was a kid, they actually had the name of real cigarettes (Camel, etc.) on the candies. Where was the FDA when this was going on? They might've as well have just put real cigarettes in there, laced with cinnamon just to suck the kids in. Speaking of know better, do better:

I loved me some Cherry Sours, but damn. They might as well have just called 'em Jelly Junglebunnies and put Stepin' Fetchit on the cover. Got me looking at Ferrara Pan a little suspect.

Next time: The federal government introduces prostitution to the 'hood by releasing a candy called Sugar Daddy, Chick-O-Sticks as hide-and-go-get-it collateral, and the greatest 'hood candy of all time.

Itzsoweezee ( yeah, right)

2007-07-14T19:35:00.000-07:00

As I continue my week-long descent into madness trying to get an editing program (any editing program!) to capture the images that I shot last weekend, I thought about my favorite De La Soul video. (There's no rhyme or reason, that's just how my brain works.) The song is called "Itzsoweezee," the irony being that I am at wits end trying to figure out how I'm going to edit my movie. I thought actually editing it would be the hard part -- and not really hard, just time consuming -- I had no idea that actually getting a program to a) accept my camera or b) accept my footage in the format that it was finalized in would take up most of my evenings and that I would still have nothing to show for it.

If you're reading this and you know something about this kind of thing, please help.

Anyway, here's the De La Soul video.

De La Soul - Itzsoweezee
Music Video Codes

Definitely a slept-on song in their canon, but the video always moved me because it's so fun. It took me back to high school. Well, not my high school , per se, but high school in general. You'd have a hard time shooting a video like this today, especially with such an all-star cast of rappers. People wouldn't let their guard down enough to be silly for 3 minutes and then, the cheerleaders would have to be naked or something. It just wouldn't work. Sad.

Happily, my mom's coming into town tomorrow and she'll be here all week. It's good. I need a break from this computer before I throw it out the window.

Takin' You Higher

2007-07-11T19:30:00.000-07:00

Okayplayer hipped me to this cool Vanity Fair article on the recently unearthed Sly Stone. Many who know me know that I've been a big fan of his music since '99 or so. I was fortunate to interview his brother Fred, sister Rose, and former trumpet player/baby mama Cynthia Robinson back in 2000 when I was working on a piece about him.

There's nothing I can really say here that isn't said better in the article on how much Sly's rise and fall meant to music both then and now. Let's just say that his decision to come back and play live gigs is a really big deal to people who know their music.

Still trying to figure out some things about my friend's camera that will allow me to edit and upload my short, tentatively titled, Chris Short: Toddler Reporter. Hopefully, my problems will be resolved by tomorrow. (My problems that relate to this film anyway. All my other problems will continue on, uninterrupted as usual.)

My sinuses are draining today, which is not cool. As usual, it's a reflection on the variable temperatures out here, plus the AC at my job, plus the lack of AC in my car/at the crib. And the fact that I've hardly been sleeping this week thanks to my newfound obsession, Rhapsody.

Just started watching that new BET show, Baldwin Hills, last night. At first, I was all pumped that middle-class black kids were being given their shine, but all the negative Inglewood comments left kind of a nasty taste in my mouth. For those who don't know: Baldwin Hills is not a city, it is a neighborhood. It is at the top of several hills that are bordered by rough spots like the Jungle (where Denzel was kicking it with Eva Mendez in Training Day) and very nice black neighborhoods like Ladera Heights and View Park. What's funny was how they was trying to talk about Inglewood like it's the 'hood, then they ended up kicking it with Stacy at a nice cafe in where? Inglewood! Basically if cats from Baldwin Hills is trying to eat or shop, but stay close to the crib, they gotta come to the 'Wood. Fifty dollars say we see these cats at The Serving Spoon before the show ends. Get outta here wit all that shullbit.

But I still liked the show. Didn't know that little model girl grew up to be so spoiled.

Watched the Charm School reunion. Why them things be so heavily overedited?

I'm not usually into Mo'nique, but her speeches were riveting. It looks like this cool Vanity Fair article Larissa is angling to be the new New York. And why do I always come out of these things feeling sorry for LaLa?

Here's my playlist on Rhapsody (on shuffle) just since I started setting this entry up:

1. Outside My Door -- Can
2. Stop -- J. Dilla
3. I'll Be Faithful -- Dusty Springfield
4. Freddie's Dead -- MFSB
5. You Are the Way You Are (demo) -- Leon Ware
6. Journey Into You -- Leon Ware
7. Lonely -- Bebel Gilberto
8. Babylon -- OutKast
9. If You Play Your Cards Right -- Syleena Johnson
10. Freeprise -- Little Barrie
11. Oh No (You Can't Be Serious) -- Carl Thomas
12. Good Girl -- Chrisette Michele
13. Tomorrow's Dream -- Al Green

If Summer League is any indication, Yi is going to be the NBA Rookie of the Year. But my man Stuckey doesn't seem to be far behind. Joe Dizzle kills 'em again.

More than meets the eye

2007-07-09T00:51:00.000-07:00

Wow. Just came from seeing Transformers and, wow. What was the last summer movie that actually lived up to expectations for me? Spider-Man, probably. But it's been awhile. The buzz on this one was deafening and reinforced that it was something that I really needed to see. Let me tell you, it didn't disappoint. The special effects, the story line, the acting, etc. There were some weird plot things that didn't quite make sense, that, in any other movie would've been insufferable. But the action is so hype and the robots are so menacing/look so real, many obvious sins are forgiven. Michael Bay redeems himself.

Side note: I'm sitting there watching the film thinking, is Megan Fox just a white Meagan Good?

I guess we should ask Tyrese, since he's now acted in movies alongside both of them. Anyway, go see the movie.

What have I been doing? I saw several movies at the Los Angeles Film Festival. The one I liked the most is called Rocket Science and if you're into quirky stuff like the kinds of movies Wes Anderson makes, you're going to love it. It's about this nerdy cat in Jersey who goes out for the debating team. Problem is, he stutters. That's the logline, but there's so much else going on this film, you absolutely have to see it. It's hysterical, but also a very grounded, honest movie.

Oh yeah, and during the LA Film Fest also sat in on a free interview that Elvis Mitchell did with this guy...

It takes awhile to get Pharrell to open up, but once he did, he told hilarious stories about battles with record labels, what movies inspired him, and how he's not nearly as technologically savvy as his music might lead you to think. All in all, it was an honor be near someone whose music I admire so much. I have most of the interview on tape on my camcorder, but I seem to have misplaced the wire that would allow me to connect it to my computer.

Otherwise, just finished up my rewrite of Chapter 2 of Somewhere Between Here and There. My professor was very impressed by my rewrite of the first chapter, so hopefully, I'm on the right track to getting published.

Yesterday was interesting. Not only did I shoot another short, one that I think will be funny. My co-star this time was this person...

Francois Truffaut once said something to the effect that, "You're not really a director until you direct children." Well, I earned my stripes on this one. Perhaps I shouldn't say that. I still have to edit it, which I hope to finish this week. Basically, he plays a toddler sports reporter who insults my character -- a basketball star -- and then we fight, a fight that he easily wins. You'll see. It'll be up on YouTube and MySpace and all the usual places this time. And Shawn Parker will be hitting the 'net soon in some other places. I promise.

In the middle of making the film, we were at the house all day watching Live Earth. I'm always happy to feel like I'm a part of something bigger than myself and watching it certainly made me feel this way. There were quite a few highlights, and here's one of them. People who know me know I heart my fellow Aquarian, Alicia Keys.

As well as John Legend and Corinne Bailey Rae.

Apparently I missed Duran Duran (sob) and Ludacris, but hey, I can only do so much, right?

San Francisco

2007-06-12T23:40:00.000-07:00

Don't want to circumvent my forthcoming Intrepid Media article, but, in short, the film was well recieved and we had a ball.

Apparently, I can't escape bad traffic no matter where I go. But I'll still take Frisco's.

Look at 'dem Warriors

Most of the people in this picture graduated from my high school in the mid 90s (or are married to someone who did so). I was grateful for the love and support. I hadn't seen some of these folks since '94.

Me and the one and only Greg Milk.

Then, we went to Richmond to worship at MacDonald Ave on Sunday morning. That's me with a very talented minister, Stacy Jones, and my travel buddy Tabitha Brown. And the orange GAP sweater strikes again.

your flow's colder, nigga, do over (c) me

2007-06-07T22:14:00.000-07:00

Finally went to the famed Do Over, a weekly Hollywood event where eclectic types can meet and dance to some great music. It runs every Sunday from 2-10 at Crane's Hollywood Tavern. 9th Wonder was there, I had just missed his set, which I'm sure was fiyah. The DJs were killing it: a lot of disco type flow and he killed it when he went to an 80s mix with "Our House," Huey Lewis & the News, and of course, "Thriller." Guilty Simpson popped through, you'll see him in a few. And, as always, Aloe Blacc helped MC the event. It was fun. We'll be back. Here's some photos:

A picture our future children will laugh at one day. Ya boy J Breezie stay shooting photos and grindin on wifey with the simultaneousnessssssssss. Respect my hustle.

Homechick on the right had THE BIGGEST booty I've seen in a minute. I just had to get that off my chest. Sorry, no evidence. This is a family show.

I just had to get dude's fro. Oh, and that's Detroit rapper Guilty Simpson on the left.

Posters were supposed to be done, but because of a miscommunication, the earliest they'll be done is tomorrow (Friday.) Y'all better pray for me if it doesn't happen. It's funny how these companies be quick to take your loot, but slow to give you good customer service.

What have I been bumping? That new Carl Thomas is SOLID.

"Late Night Rendezvous" is serious. I'm probably more glad that he's finally off Bad Boy than he is. Finally, somebody making some real soulful R&B.

Otherwise:
Marvin Gaye -- What's Going On (and really just Marvin in general, lately; I've been thinking about my script again)
The Main Ingredient has been getting some burn.
Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes

Here's the type of random stuff be going through my mind at work:

1) What exactly is leukemia?
2) Why is it that I fully understood time signatures as a ten-year-old taking drum lessons, but don't get it now?
3) Doesn't everybody have some kind of phobia? Like leprophobia (the fear if leprosy). Don't we all have that?

I'm off the Bay. Will be back with pictures and stuff.

R.I.P. Tony Thompson, lead singer of Hi-Five

2007-06-02T22:52:00.000-07:00

I didn't even have time to fully deal with my Pistons series ending defeat at the hands of LeBron and Co. before I learned that Tony Thompson, lead singer of Hi-Five, was found of an apparent drug overdose in his hometown of Waco, Texas. He was only 31.

If you were a black teen in the early 90s', Hi-Five was a REALLY BIG DEAL. Besides New Edition, they were the closest thing our generation had to a group like the Jackson 5. Hi-Five were a quintet of lanky, good-looking Texas boys with amazing voices, strong choreography and songs we could relate to. They had a nice string of hits in the early '90s: "I Like the Way (The Kissing Game)," "Quality Time," "She's Playing Hard to Get," "Unconditional Love," and my all-time favorite, "I Just Can't Wait Another Minute."

They were pop ("I Like the Way" went number 1 on both pop and R&B charts in 1991) and soulful, a great combination in the hip-hop influenced R&B of the early 90s. (Before people figured out the formula and screwed it all up.) Still, they always seemed to be under a black cloud -- a nearly fatal car accident after their second album nearly ended the group. By the mid-90s, rap's fixation with thug culture had taken over, and there was nowhere for these smooth crooners to go.

I'm sure more details will come out as time passes, but I would like to offer condolences to the Thompson family, and thank God for allowing my life to be touched for a short, but pivotal time by a talented young man who, sadly, didn't know how much he meant to us.

I have nothing to say about Detroit, by the way. We lost. Flip got outcoached, our players got outplayed, and Joe Dizzle has some tough decisions to make this summer. I just hope Cleveland didn't use all their energy trying to beat us.

You want posters? I got posters.

Six days to Frisco. Holla if you hear me.

Autres Femmes

2007-05-26T21:40:00.000-07:00

I just sat and watched all of Beyonce's B-Day videos in a row. (Yeah, I know I'm late. Whatever.)

I'm glad I watched "Flaws and All" last because it's the most interesting by far.

Made me crush on that girl all over again.

The poster for Shawn Parker's almost done. I bit the style from this glorious French film by Claude Lelouch called A Man and A Woman.

I'll post up our poster soon.

Miss Universe Pageant on Monday. What a great way to celebrate Memorial Day. My money's on Miss Angola.

But I've been wrong before. After all, I thought Melinda was going to win American Idol.

I never thought I'd say this, but: GO JAZZ. Because nobody wants to see another Spurs-Pistons Finals.

And you know this, MANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!

Time

2007-05-23T20:47:00.000-07:00

Time
Needs another minute, at least
Take your time
But you've got a limit
-- Sly and the Family Stone, 1971

I was thinking a lot today about time. And why I never seem to have enough of it. And why, when I do have it, I don't make the best use of it.

I was looking at the New Yorker earlier today and came across a new short story by Zadie Smith, who is one of my inspirations. (I probably wouldn't have even written Somewhere Between Here and There if I hadn't read White Teeth.) It was okay. Wasn't quite what I was expecting, but it's always a pleasure to read her work. But it got me thinking about my own neglected short stories, both written and unwritten.

But who can think about that when I have at least three television synopses (2 sitcoms, 1 drama) that I owe people which remain unwritten. I'm supposed to be rhyming again over The Apprentice's track for a song called "Salvation." I keep telling him it's done, but it's not.

One thing that is done is the poster for my movie. Well, almost. The template is nearly done -- by my good friend and graphic designer extraordinaire Travion Loftis -- we just have to get it printed. But we're still on San Francisco! If you can join us, here's where you can get tickets.

I have a poster now, sort of, well, I have a person to design it at least, and he has everything. Watched my Pistons beat Cleveland in game one of the Eastern Conference Finals the other day. We held LeBron to 10 points and still barely won. Our energy wasn't really that great, but we'll take the win. Ilguaskas was KILLING us, though, man. If someone had told me that LeBron would be LeBroke, I'd have thought we'd have won by 23. But apparently not.

Was watching some of the shorts on BETJ Sunday. Saw 3D, which was Pete Chatmon's thesis film at NYU back in 2000, which starred a young (er) Kerry Washington in one of the lead roles as Angie. It was good, you could definitely see the Spike Lee influence. Thinking of sending Shawn Parker to the BETJ Best Shorts competition. And I may send my old short, Straight from the Heart, as well.

A lot of people have been asking where I go to get into the music that I've been into lately. Well, I listen to Gilles Peterson a lot, especially at work.

I really love when he interviews producers and asks them about their work, while playing his usual ill tracks. The show has done a great job of getting me hip to a lot of British bands and singers that I wouldn't have known much about. So there goes the reason for my sudden British turn (for those who've wondered, and for those that I've forced to listen to my 4hero and Nostalgia 77 CDs).

Listen to Gilles pick the brain of legendary producer Larry Mizell

Gilles and Pharrell

Gilles and Mark Ronson

I guess that's it for now. Say hello to your new American Idol:

I was pulling for Melinda, but Jordin's so talented and cute and... tall, I can't even hate.

Toledo hip hop, folks.We got next.

walking on sunshine

2007-05-15T22:49:00.000-07:00

I guess I spoke too soon.

I got an email this morning informing me that How Shawn Parker Fell in Love was selected to screen at the San Francisco Black Film Festival. So I've pretty much been on cloud nine ever since. I called my wife, my mom, sent emails to the cast and crew. What's crazy is that it would've been on my dad's birthday. Now I'm in a mad dash and scramble to get a trailer together and get a poster and fliers. If you know someone that's good with posters and fliers, holla at me.

I don't even want to talk about Detroit right now. But I was checking out the Spurs-Suns game last night and I saw this....

That was crazy. Today they decided to suspend Amare and Diaw for 1 game as well as Robert Horry. I understand the logic behind the rule, but I think the suspension on the Phoenix players was suspect. You telling me that if your teammate gets crosschecked right in front of your bench, cats is really just gonna sit there and not do nothing? That ain't 'hood.

But I won't let my team's suspect play dampen my mood. :) I got a lot to get together
for Frisco.

Thank God for Saturday

2007-05-12T13:30:00.000-07:00

I slept in a bit this morning, for the first time, seemingly, in years. Got a little more work done on the two pieces I'm proposing for Wax Poetics. They're rediscoveries of Maze's debut album and Pretty Purdie's debut, Stand By Me. I just bought the latter at Ameoba a few weeks ago. I'll probably do about another draft on each and send them. We'll see.

I need to wash my dirty car. And my wife's car is dirty, too, so I couldn't just wash my car and bounce. That'd be wrong. Funny, but wrong. The Cavs-Nets and Spurs-Suns playoff games come on today, so I'll have to check those out too. Wifey and I are supposed to finally buy a new mattress for our new bed too.

Not a whole lot else. Except I found the following jewels on YouTube. It will be a sad day if they shut that place down. Holla.

Luther Vandross and Gregory Hines -- "There's Nothing Better Than Love"

Marvin Gaye -- "What's Goin' On"/"What's Happening Brother" (live -1973)

BlackStar feat. Common -- "Respiration"

back in the saddle again

2007-05-09T23:17:00.000-07:00

I hope to update things around here a little more regularly, now that it seems things have calmed a bit. I'm always trying to figure out what I want to do here and once I lost sight of that, I didn't really have a reason to post. I haven't really been taking a lot of pics lately, so not much to update on that front. But I'm working on some writing stuff that you may want to be aware of.

I'm in the middle of rewriting the first three chapters of my novel, Somewhere Between Here and There, through a correspondence class I'm taking with the Long Ridge Writers' Group. This is my second class with them and it's one of the best decisions I've made. My teacher this go-around, Kris Franklin, seems real cool. The point of this class is to do your first three chapters, plus a synopsis and have it be presentable enough that some agents might show you some love. My time at the Iowa Summer Writing Workshop two summers ago taught me that the opening of the book is weak. And with a weak opening, you're finished. Writing problems are like roaches: if you see two, there's probably six. Restructuring the opening helped me to come up with a stronger structure and points of emphasis for the rest of the book. I just sent my renovated first chapter to him last week and I'm proud of it. It is infinitely better. What I'm saying is that I've finally figured out what I'm doing.

I'm working on a few things that I'm trying to get into Wax Poetics. And I volunteered for the L.A. Film Festival at the end of June. Shawn Parker was submitted, but it's not like I'm holding my breath. I've gotten, like, 12 rejections. I have some theories as to why, but you just learn and move on. Meanwhile, I feel like I'm starting from scratch in some areas, particularly film networking. Hence the volunteering. I'm looking forward to it.

Three of my scripts are out, at the Nicholls Fellowship, and in the hands of a producer who has mostly done plays, but is looking to branch into film. And I also applied for the Project:Involve mentorship program. Any or all of these popping off would be, I'm sure, a rewarding opportunity.

Did a review on Joe's new album at ThaHipHop.com, and I have Stephen Marley's new CD on my desk at work, awaiting its fate. I just finished my latest Intrepid Media article. It'll be out Monday. It's on my love/hate relationship with working out.

The playoffs? Bananas. My Pistons are looking so loverly, I can hardly stand it. I'm proud of Golden State and this series with Utah is looking quite phenomenal. It sounds blasphemous to say, but I like this Utah team. I've liked them ever since I saw them dismantle the Clippers earlier this year. (Refer back to my December '06 post.) I just really like Deron Williams' game, man. I like it a lot. If he keeps playing the way he did tonight, I don't think the rest of the planet will be too far behind me.

It's getting late and my cough syrup is kicking in.

Outro.

for those who wondered

2007-05-07T19:11:00.000-07:00

wrote this rhyme on the freeway
me and the DJ
went our separate ways
can't believe they did say
I couldn't rock a microphone
on every rhyme I'm on
taking hits for my music
like a xylophone
praised for being me, but on the real
they only like a clone
crush a nigga's hopes
if he on the stuff that I be on
but still I rise
so even when my doubters died and gone
I'm still gonna be J
until I reach His mighty throne

Jason Does Atlanta, Part 2

2007-01-06T22:49:00.000-08:00

It's impossible to escape the presence of Martin Luther King in Atlanta. This is the statue at the Interdenominational Chapel on the campus of his alma mater, Morehouse.

And speaking of Morehouse, how many colleges can a city have within walking distance of each other? I thought Pittsburgh was bad with the whole Pitt-Carnegie Mellon-Carlow-Chatham conglomeration, but Atlanta's not playin'.

But back to Dr. King. I think this pic pretty much speaks for itself. Free at last indeed.

Jason Does Atlanta, Pt. 1

2007-01-03T22:17:00.000-08:00

This was from a statue in the back of the Jimmy Carter Presidential Museum & Library. It was about the rampant blindness in some areas of Africa that comes through drinking water, and how the blind will literally lead the blind.

This picture was taken at the Martin Luther King Center. It's a sampling of many of the segregation laws that were in place in various southern states pre-Civil Rights Movement.

This was a big ole fish I encountered while at the spacious Georgia Aquarium. I happened to snap the picture while he was blinking.

Clippers .vs Jazz 12/13/06

2006-12-17T08:59:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time (c) Rakim

2006-11-24T12:05:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I know. But holla at a player when you see me in the streets. Been running around and haven't really had much time (or haven't taken the time) to update this site. I'll be better. I'm gonna start going to some Clips games again pretty soon, so that'll give me more pics and strange stories, presumably.

Couldn't sleep last night (probably on some post-Thanksgiving "itis" (c) Dave Chappelle) and stumbled down stairs at 3am to watch HBO. Stumbled across the old movie called Myra Breckenridge starring Raquel Welch. What a strange film. This trailer gives you a little insight.

Basically Raquel plays this dude who had a sex change and comes back to wreak havoc on his old crew, trying to blur the lines between what makes a man a man and what makes a woman a woman. Movie was mad disturbing and mean-spirited and not even really entertaining, and yet, between Raquel's fine self and a young Farrah Fawcett (playing -- you guessed it -- a naive blonde) your boy couldn't stop watching. Plus, it had a little bit of Hollywood trivia in it: the great director John Huston playing her/his uncle, a creepy looking Mae West playing a singer and future film critic Rex Reed playing the male version of Raquel.

For those who've been asking, the album is done. Mark 1 is working on the final mix and it's going to be called Sunshine in October. I'll be back to talk about each song individually later but for now, here's a track listing.

1. Intro
2. Make Your Body Move
3. The Do-Over
4. Avondale Aphrodite feat. Cedric Clark
5. Around My Way feat. Sonny Blaq & Trenekia Danielle
6. Special Lady
7. Work to Do
8. The 25th Hour
9. Somethin' Wicked This Way Comes
10. Ridin' (Thru Ya Hood Tonite)
11. UFO
12. Sunshine in October

12 songs strong. I'm really proud of it. Hopefully, we can start getting some MP3s up pretty soon, so you can hear it.

Otherwise, just chilling. I'm about to have my own podcast pretty soon, so be on the lookout for that. Right now, it looks like I'll be reading some of my old Intrepid articles, a la some of my classic gigs at Karma Coffeehouse from a year ago. Speaking of Intrepid, my latest piece "Awkward Moments" just came out last week.

I heart John Legend. My love for the song "Maxine" is beginning to border on obsession.

And the mystery of why so few black people found their way to a Seinfeld set suddenly becomes clearer.

RIP to a great, great film director, Robert Altman.

One.

Who Dey?

2006-09-24T17:17:00.000-07:00

Last night, while I was gagging over Notre Dame's comeback win over Michigan State, I was at DJ Mark 1's place going over some of the songs that we plan to record. I had written to a beat CD he gave me and I outlined four songs for him, "Make Your Body Move," "Something Wicked This Way Comes," "UFO" and "Avondale Aphrodite." The last two are holdovers from the late 90s, but they're hip-hop classics in my mind and I want them to get their day on wax. I'll keep you posted, but it's looking like a match made in heaven right now.

Amped that my Bengals held it down against them garbage Steelers. (Plus Carson and T.J.'s multi-touchdown days will look good on my fantasy league.) Speaking of Pittsburgh, I stumbled across news of a tribute to this Steel City icon. I was always indifferent to Warhol's art but one of the last things I did was take a trip to his museum in downtown Pittsburgh. For an artsy cat like me, that was a cool experience. More Pittsburgh discussions: pray for the Duquesne basketball players that were shot a week back. As details are unfolding, it's looking more and more suspect for the woman that let the shooters in. I just remember when I was at Pitt, local thugs were ALWAYS turning up at parties, running game to our chicks, etc.

It's like that scene in School Daze when local cat Samuel L. Jackson and his flunkies was hating on Laurence Fishburne (who looked too old to be in college even back then) just for being young black college kids. I just wish young brothers could learn to respect one another's hustle. Whether you running the classrooms or the streets, I feel like we all in the same struggle.

The Whitney Houston-Osama bin Laden "love story" is taking another strange turn. First, Whitney leaves Bobby to join bin Laden's herum, now we come to find out this fool might be dead? Maybe Bobby's got more pull than we thought. Or maybe (and this is more likely), the rumors of bin Laden's demise have been greatly exaggerated. I was just kidding about Whitney leaving to join Osama's herum. But it sounds logical.

And speaking of bin Laden, how long does Bill Clinton have to be out of office before Republicans stop blaming him for everything I know Clinton and the Democrats have done some crooked mess too, but really, the hate for this cat is relentless and unnecessary. Political parties is like gangbanging, straight up.

You have to catch Katt Williams' HBO special ASAP. Another talented Ohio cat (that's right, Dayton is in the house this time) taking the entertainment field by storm. He riffs on Michael Jackson, Hollywood politics, getting shot -- and a whole host of other topics non-stop. I just wish it had been longer. Straight up hilarious. The Michael Jackson part alone is genius. There's a new sheriff in town.

Septembro

2006-09-18T21:34:00.000-07:00

What's happening? Been so busy, my head's been spinning. The main development in my life is our new home-based business. No B.S., we made our initial investment back in, like, a week. If you're trying to get out of your day job, or just need some extra money to pay that car note, holla at me. I've seen the light.

Working on some songs, r&b and pop as well as my long awaited collabo with DJ Mark 1. I'm actually going to start writing for that on Wednesday. I got a rejection for the short from the Hollywood Film Festival today. I'm numb to rejections now. I know how my work affects the streets and regular people who are tired of the okey-doke. My time will come. It's just a matter who wants to make money first.

Speaking of which, why didn't y'all go see Idlewild? Me and wifey saw it twice. That movie was amazing. Quit sleeping. And get off your butts and go cop that Game Theory while you at it.

Happy cause I just saw them wack Steelers get shut out by Doug E. Fresh and the Get Fresh Crew, er, I mean, Jacksonville.

(You know Leftwich look like the world's most famous Scientologist rapper.)

Things are going well, just hectic. Between the writing, the day job, the new business, the commute and home life. But just wanted to drop in to say hello.

Damn, EVERYBODY'S downsizing.

The Weekend Warrior Series, Pt. 2

2006-08-29T18:29:00.000-07:00

2006-08-29T18:28:00.000-07:00

The dream's still alive.

2006-08-29T18:19:00.000-07:00

Stay out.

2006-08-29T18:18:00.000-07:00

The future.

2006-08-23T19:57:00.002-07:00

DJ Mark 1

2006-08-23T19:57:00.001-07:00

Dominoes in Leimert Park

The Weekend Warrior Series

2006-08-23T19:57:00.000-07:00

A church in Compton

What I'm listening to

2006-08-08T16:29:00.000-07:00

It's been an interesting summer with so much more on tap as we head into fall. On the horizon loom new albums from OutKast, The Roots, Lupe Fiasco, Mos Def, Common and others that I love. There's so few cats I'm genuinely feeling nowadays, I get excited when the ones I'm supporting actually put out new stuff. Partially thanks to a mini-CD spree I had at Best Buy lately and partially thanks to another raid of my sisters' old, left-behind LPs back at my mom's crib, this is what the kid's been on lately.

Pharrell -- In My Mind

It took me a couple spins to really appreciate but it's been getting heavy rotation in the Silver Bullet since I came back from Ohio. I've heard people saying this album isn't quite what they expected, but I think people just like to complain. I mean, he gave you the deceptively simplistic synthezied beats, he rhymed about Ice Cream, BBC and the seemingly endless parade of models who love his dirty draws. You want cameos, he gave 'em to you: Jay-Z, Nelly, Slim Thug, Snoop, Kanyeeze. So what if half the album sounds like Michael Jackson circa 1981? A lot of contemporary R&B is going in that direction. You think Beyonce's new album is gonna sound any different? You think Justin Timberlake's new album is gonna sound any different? And since when is sounding like the album that Mike woulda dropped between Off the Wall and Thriller a bad thing. A lot of Maroon 5's Songs About Jane sound like outtakes from Dangerous and that album went triple platinum!

Also gaining this album major cool points is track 13, "Our Father," the most sincere "thankyouforlovingmeJesuseventhoughI'mascrewup" song this side of Donny Hathaway's "Lord Help Me."

Corinne Bailey Rae -- Corinne Bailey Rae

I cannot stop listening to this album. I was semi-skeptical initially. Determined not to dig the first single, "Like A Star," even though VH-1 Soul kept playing it non-stop. Convinced that her whole persona was just a ploy by the government to distract me from the war in Iraq. She seemed too neatly packaged: how you gonna have a raspy voice, play the guitar and continue my unbroken string of crushes on bi-racial European chicks (from Sade on down to Zadie Smith) It seemed too good to be true. And then I bought the album.

What I like most about the album is that it sounds like a bunch of friends got together and made an album, with little deference to the grind of their daily lives. I know a lot of albums are made under those circumstances, but this album sounds like it. Rae's voice swoops, glides, and is more powerful than her wispy countenancy (or even her poetic name) would ever suggest. Her range of influences extends from Led Zeppelin to Erykah Badu and you actually hear those influences on this album. (Good, if I hear one more synthetic sounding R&B cat say their favorite singers are Donny Hathaway and Stevie Wonder, I'm punching them dead in the chest.) She reveals far more promise on this debut than simply being the "next Norah Jones," as some have labeled her. She sounds more like simply "the next."

Al Green -- I'm Still in Love With You

This album, like most of Al Green and Willie Mitchell's classic '70s work, is beyond reproach. In all it's southern-fried glory, this December 1972 release is simply one of the most soulful albums ever made. It sounds like heated up greens at your cool uncle's speakeasy at 2 in the morning, while the most beautiful girl in town is whispering in your right ear and the air is a vibrant shade of orange that you've never seen before. I don't have to tell you about the title track. If I do, there's something wrong with you. "Simply Beautiful" might make a Negro's eyes water up. "Oh, Pretty Woman" puts Roy Orbison's more well-known original to shame. And did I mention that "Love and Happiness" is on this album? Exactly. It's ridiculous. Go find someone you like and throw this jammie on. You won't be disappointed.

P.S. I know crate diggers might say I'm on the late freight, but at least relistening to this album solved my two year mystery of where Kanye got that sample for Consequence's "Gettin' Out the Game" that was on my voice mail for, like, four or five months.

The Jacksons -- The Essential Jacksons

As you probably already know, I have weird fascinations. About a month or two ago, I got really obsessively intrigued by the music of the Jacksons. Not the Jackson 5. The Jacksons. The group they became after they left Motown (and thanks to Berry Gordy, their name as well). The group that both preceded and weathered Michael's transition from almost washed up former child star to international phenomenon. The group that gave us so many disco era hits that Michael's success with Off the Wall seems as though it should've been less shocking in retrospect.

So I copped the CD and was floored by songs both familiar ("Blame It on the Boogie," "Can You Feel It," "Shake Your Body Down to the Ground") and unfamiliar ("Find Me A Girl," "Show You The Way To Go"). Say you will about Joe Jackson and his boot camp like relationship with his kids, but he masterminded and navigated the most talented and successful bunch of siblings in the history of recorded music. (I hear you Bee Gees fans, but Joe and Katherine had 10 kids and darnit if they didn't all have a hit song at one point. Except LaToya.)

A lot of negativity surrounds the Jacksons' name, and admittedly, a lot of it, they've brought on themselves. But if you need a reminder of how gifted the family from 2300 Jackson Street could be when they were all focused, you don't have to go further than this album.

Home again

2006-08-04T06:18:00.000-07:00

People who know
Say you can't go
Home again
But if you ask me
I'm happy to be
Home again.
-- New Edition

TOLEDO!!

Held me down. My first trip home in a year and a half was just the break I needed. We wrapped our final edit/mix of the film the previous Tuesday and I took a copy home to show to family and friends. They loved it. And it seemed deeper than just, "We're gonna support this because our son/nephew/cousin/uncle/childhood friend made it." There were genuine critiques, laughter, appraisal, support. The kind you can only get in the only city that's been down since day one.

I was amazed at how the city never really seems to change. Niggas swore they'd stop by and holla at me and didn't. There still aren't a lot of quality jobs for people in their 20s and 30s.

Gino's Pizza still has the best pizza in the world. And that big old crack house at the main intersection of Detroit and Bancroft is still a big old crack house.

But perhaps I protest too much: Downtown seemed livelier than ever. Malls were being built or refurbished all over the place. The weather was humid but lovely, a welcome respite from the scorching oven that was California. Kids from my church that I once coached in our 9-12 year old basketball league are now elated college students or lanky high school seniors. The suburbs are flourishing ridiculously. It was the first time, probably ever, that I wasn't running back to the airport when it was time to leave.

We drove to Pittsburgh to visit my alma mater. It was my first time there since my graduation way back in '98. It looked the same, but different. There was so much construction! But I walked wifey, my mom, and my nephew Eddie through all the old haunts: the Cathedral of Learning, the Student Union, Stephen Foster Memorial Theater, Hillman Library, the Towers, up and down Fifth Ave. and Forbes and Lothrop Street.

It was the coolest trip down memory lane. It reminded me of a time when I had nothing but time, before day jobs, before L.A. hardened me in the way that it hardens all it's residents, before I was taught to doubt the relevance of my writing. We ate an expensive Italian restaurant downtown before stopping past PNC Park and Heinz Field (boo Steelers! yay Pitt football!), then we headed back home.

The rest of the time, we were just visiting relatives and resting. I ran into my boy Stormy Dai, who told me wild tales of his days touring with Cash Money Records, about his recent tracks on Juvenile's latest album, and his pending trip to Miami, which could be monumental for blowing up his career as a hip-hop producer. You stay with it, partner. We hung out at a studio near the old DeVilbiss High School, where I watched him record and mix a promo for a local radio station.

Next thing you know, my boy Reshard takes me to this cat Henry's basement studio over on the North side and we're recording a beat and rhyming over it. Some of my bars:

J Gil on the mike, the Midnight Marauder
Knocking niggas out like I was Sgt. Slaughter
Run up on me quick, I don't think you oughta
Pillage your whole village and escape with your daughter
She tried to bolt, I caught her, sold her, then I bought her
Reenacted next Thursday on Law and Order

Reshard remains the best friend I'll ever have and the coolest person I'll ever meet. Our friendship continues to amaze me. Everyone's doing good though, for the most part. My nieces and nephews are hanging in there, the ones i saw at least. Mom is doing fine.

I just can't express how therapeutic the trip was. It gave me and the wife the kick in the pants we needed to charge ahead with our plans.

As of yesterday, I sent off applications for Shawn Parker to five film festivals: Hollywood, Santa Barbara, Ann Arbor, Cleveland and San Francisco. Down the horizon -- Sundance, Slamdance & the Pan-African Film Festivals. Also, there's a short film competition sponsored by BETJ that I'm excited about.

What? Time Warner's taking over for Comcast? Better have my VH-1 Soul.

Get well, Patrick Payne

2006-06-26T19:24:00.000-07:00

Out of sight don't mean out of mind.

Love,
J & T

More Shawn Parker pics!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-06-21T22:18:00.000-07:00

We're going to start editing the film in earnest next week. The music's coming along, provided by superproducer Mark 1. I'm getting back into my normal life. Cut off the minifro and everything. Anyhow, life's good. Here's some more photos, via Jay Davis.

The morning after: Erika (Grace Tejano) and Shawn (Jason Gilmore)

Erika (Grace Tejano) & Shawn (Jason Gilmore)

Meredith (Stephanie Lange) throws Shawn a curveball.

Tricia (Ayana Nataki) & Robin (Jaimyon Parker)

Shawn (JG) & Donnita (Trenekia Danielle)

Tryin' to impress this chick.

Donnita at dinner (Trenekia Danielle)

The scene of the crime, lol. (w/sound mixer James Ridgely & DP Rob Neal)

Rob Neal (Director of Photography & Editor) He's a Toledo dude, too. And yes, that is the camera we shot on.

Independent filmmaking at its finest.

What happened to Donnita? Go see the movie.

Do I really need a permit to shoot on my own property?

2006-06-07T20:46:00.000-07:00

(and other things overheard on the shoot of HOW SHAWN PARKER FELL IN LOVE)

Saturday 6amish Mood: happy and nervous

Early Saturday morning. Six o'clock or so. I'm hyphy. Crunk. Excited. The first day of the rest of my life. But yet, I'm nervous, apprehensive. Wondering if this is all going to work. There are several unanswered questions: 1) We haven't firmly established if my sound mixer and my small DV cam will work together. 2) I don't know if any of my extras will actually show up for the scenes that I need them in. 3) I don't even know if I'm up to the task of acting, directing and doing 34 other things throughout the course of an 25-page shoot schedule over two days. (Yes, that's what I said.) But everything is set in motion. By hook or by crook, I've got my cast (although a small percentage of cats who sent headshots and said they were coming to the audition actually came -- hence my unexpected appointment as the male lead), my cinematographer and editor (one in the same, my editor Rob Neal also became my DP after a host of DPs found a way to ignore my e-mails and general requests), my sound mixer, complete with equipment, my locations (except for one, which has been agreed to, but makes me nervous). We're ready to go.

We convene upon the first scene, both in the script and of the shoot. Shawn has just finished getting it on with a trophy wife, then she disses him, then her nine year old son wanders into the room, looking for his parents. Shawn disses the kid, but not before he answers his cell phone and tells another woman that he's at the hospital giving blood. And this is, like, the first three pages of the script. I gave us two hours to shoot the scene at my wife's cousin's friend's condo in Ladera Heights. Everyone showed up on time, which amazed me. But then my worst fear was confirmed, as it took us just over an hour to get the sound together. My DV cam is tiny, it took us awhile to figure out whether it was better to go through an adaptor or run the sound straight through a cable to the camera. I was getting nervous as the clock ticked. Director, keep morale up! I kept rehearsing with the trophy chick, Erika (the alluring Grace Tejano) and her son (Jarrod Silcock).

(all film stills by Jay Davis)

Once we got our technical difficulties together, the scene was relatively effortless. A lot of this was because Grace and I had rehearsed a lot. We packed up our things, about a half hour behind schedule and bounced to the next location.

Saturday 11amish Mood: Confident

We're shooting the scene where Shawn gets fired from his high paying corporate job at an office at the Normandie Church of Christ in L.A. Rob finds a basketball in the parking lot and soon, me, him, my sound mixer Jim Ridgley and still photographer Jay Davis are shooting around and reminiscing on our younger, leaner days. (This is particularly sad since me, Rob and Jay are all still in our 20s.) This is one beauty of film crews -- that people from different walks of life can bond over making a film -- that most unnatural of processes. My wife (who doubled as lead actress, set decorator, caterer and 24 other things) shows up with Subway sandwiches and drinks. Willard's office is perfect, just hot (the recurring theme of the day) and after we adjust some things in his office to make it look more corporate, we're ready to roll. I'm in this scene with the gifted Stephanie Lange, who plays one of thiose corporate chicks who is so evil she can smile while she's firing you. The very first take, Stephanie was cheesing so hard, I burst out laughing right after I called cut. We did the reverse over the shoulder shots, nothing too spectatular, and I sense that my small crew is gaining a small bit of respect for my acting chops. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

Saturday -- 2:30ish Mood: It's dark and Inglewood is hot.

The longest, most drawn out section of the shoot took place at my cousin Quake's apartment, which he was gracious enough to let us borrow for the day. Mostly because a) we have scenes that involved suicide attempts, arguments and physical altercations, some of which I never had the chance to storyboard; b) the temperature inside his apartment that day was 213 degrees; c) some of his neighbors are hella loud; and d) Jason Gilmore likes to bite off more than he can chew.

We have to be gone by 5:30 because I have extras who are supposed to be meeting me at my house for the big club scene we're shooting tonight in my guest room. By 5:30, we feel halfway done. Light is a constant problem. I start getting into one take mode, where I'm trying to do everything in the first presentable take. Rob and Jim keep talking me out of it. We don't leave till, like, 7 something. On the last scene, we get into a minor altercation with the next door neighbors who go out of their way be as loud as possible when we polite ask them for five minutes of silence so we can shoot the last scene. I'm feeling like Terrence Howard in Hustle & Flow, like, do I gotta go give these niggas some weed or something? They persist and thankfully, miraculously, their noise doesn't pick up on our footage.

It takes us forever to unpack because we brought so much stuff to feminize my bachelor cousin's apartment. On our way out, the knuckleheads next door try to block my sound mixer's car in the middle of the street. WHY ARE YOU BEING A HATER?!?!?!?!? I'm thinking my phone's going to be blown up with constant friends/associates because they showed up at my crib and I wasn't there. But, despite my steady stream of e-mails, phone calls, and MySpace bulletins, I only get one call.

Saturday 8ish Mood: Tired and Wishing It Was Over

I arrive at my house exhausted. Still I have to shoot the club scene, where my character and my wife's character meet for the first time, as introduced by mutual friends Robin (Jaimyon Parker) andTricia (Ayana Nataki). Everybody's jovial except me. Outtakes show Jaimyon and Rob trying to cheer me up and me hitting them back with one word answers. I'm trying to direct all the set ups and stay in character and direct the extras. I recruit Jay and my next door neighbor, Mike McCarty to be extras. Rob pushes my set up against the wall and suddenly, the need for 7-10 extras becomes unnecessary. Dude is a genius. It all works out well in the end at 11pm. But not before I get a call from Quake saying that I locked his girl out of his apartment and since he's out of town, I need to take care of that. (She later got in without my assistance, but I didn't find this out until she called me back at 7 the next morning.)

Sunday 2amish Mood: Restless

Can't sleep. Puzzling over everything that happened Saturday. I can't believe I'm shooting a film. Nervous about the scene at the tuxedo shop on Sunday morning because the store's manager was so flippant with her yes. It made me nervous that she never called me back when she said she would or that I had to remind her who I was and what I wanted each time I called. Then, in the middle of the night, my phone rings. It's my cousin George. His girl is trippin'. He wants to come over and crash. Sure, I think, I can't sleep anyway.

We talk for awhile and then I leave him on the couch in our living room. We wake up the next morning, have a makeshift communion (as we would've normally, all being regular churchgoers) and I recruit him and his son to be extras for the tux scene. The one that all my other so-called friends found a way out of and that I'm wondering if we'll be able to get into anyway.

Sunday 7:30amish Mood: Sleepy but strangely energized

We shoot a conversation scene on a lovely row of shrubbery on Kareem Court right across the street from the Forum. Once again, we are right underneath LAX's flight path and there are joggers all around but we get it done in more than enough time. We run over to Rogers Park to see if we can quickly shoot a scene that I planned to shoot last. But it's some loud brothers over there playing tennis. This morning, it seems everyone in Inglewood is at Rogers Park. We decide, instead, to shoot the scene on a backlot inside my gated community -- one that serves as a parking lot and also looks like one.

Sunday 11amish Mood: Overeager

I'm right. The tux shop was supposed to let us in at 11 to shoot for an hour before they opened at 12. But they're not here. So we sit in front of the store for almost an hour. Me, Rob, Jim, Wifey, my cousin and his son, and Ed Cotter, a marvelous actor who's playing the tuxedo store owner. At 11:55, an employee opens up, claiming to know nothing of our shoot. This doesn't surprise me. But she tells us we can shoot for twenty minutes. My crew and cast jumps into place like gangbusters. We shoot around a couple of early customers who seem respectful of what we're doing. The manager arrives at ten after. It's clear that she completely forgot about us. We knock out the last (chronological) scene of the film and are out of the door by 12:40.

Sunday 1pmish Mood: Celebratory

After the tux scene, I consider the rest of the day child's play. We have some scenes in my living room & dining room and the final scene in the back lot. The living and dining room scenes go well. My composer Mark 1 drops by to do a cameo as a waiter in a makeshift restaurant scene with me and Jaimyon. Wifey picks up Taco Bell. It's awkward to passionately kiss your wife in front of a film crew as two scenes required. Rob's like, "You need to get more into it." Got me feeling like Tom Cruise in Eyes Wide Shut or something. It's crazy. But we make it good. My friend Tabitha stops by with a cooler full of water, snacks and candy. Today is going much smoother than yesterday.

Sunday 6pmish Mood: Persecuted

So we're down to the last scene. It's simple. Me and wifey walking down the street, passing cars and engaging in a verbal tug of war. Jim mikes us up because I chose to shoot in a slow zoom to make up for our non-existent dolly/steadicam. We're interrupted, often, by airplanes, but then, 20 minutes by a woman sitting on a nearby porch, who asks what we're doing. We tell her we're shooting a film and ask if we're disturbing her. She says no. Adds that she's just being nosey. Okay. Her husband comes outside, watches us for another 20-25 minutes. Finally, when we're almost done, he walks up on us, out of nowhere.

"Do you have a permit to shoot here?"
"No. But I live here."

He goes on to tell me that he's the president of the same intracommunity organization that turned me down when I sent them a letter back at the beginning of May requesting to use our community clubhouse to film a couple scenes. (I didn't know they had rejected me officially, because they never responded to my letter. A secretary who was at the meeting told me over the phone that they had rejected me, but her reasons were vague. Still, even though a written request is supposed to be met with a written reply, I found other locations for those scenes. To me, this was a separate issue: I didn't think I need to ask permission to shoot land on a camcorder that I partially own.)

"I mean, we're almost done. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to leave."

And I'm thinking, leave? Where am I going to go? Four units down to my house. Then, he jumped on the phone like he was calling the cops or something, get out of here. For the most part, we had everything we needed. We were just going to grab a couple of closeups for insurance. But Boss Hogg was so meanspirited with his hateration that I realized it wouldn't be worth my time. Unimportant people need to cling to whatever little status they can cling to. So we walked home, amazed/frustrated that we'd shot all over L.A. with nary a problem and that cats was hating on me in the place where I rest at. But that's the way goes. One monkey didn't stop a show. The film is in the can.

And it looks good.

Mood: Proud.

RIP Billy Preston 1946-2006

2006-06-06T18:03:00.000-07:00

I know everyone's waiting to see what I have to say about my film shoot from this past weekend (in short, it was crazy, but outstanding) but I had to take a little time out upon news of the passing of Billy Preston this morning. For those who don't know, Mr. Preston was a musical giant. An acclaimed singer and pianist, he played behind Ray Charles, Little Richard, Aretha Franklin, The Rolling Stones and The Beatles (amongst others) before launching his own solo career which produced such hits as "Will It Go Round in Circles", "Outa-Space", "Nothing From Nothing" and "With You I'm Born Again" featuring Syreeta.

While working on a story about Sly Stone in the summer of 2000, I befriended Sly's sister Rose, who put me in touch with Mr. Preston. One warm summer day, I drove to his home in Ladera Heights, where he introduced me to his family, then held court with me for nearly an hour on his upbringing, his troubles and most importantly, his love and respect for music and the phenomenal talents he has been blessed to play with.

The piece was slated to run in a national magazine but a new editor took over and ixnayed the previously agreed to set up. So I held it. My only regret is that I wasn't really into the Beatles when I met him and, for that alone (especially now that I've seen the Let It Be movie), I could've asked him so many more questions.

So here's the interview, in its entirety.

Black music is losing.

Elevate.

JG: You had such a prodigious childhood and you were playing at a young age, but overall, what was your childhood like?
BP: Overall, it was a very nice childhood. I’m from a very musical family, a Christian family and my mother played piano and my older sister also played. There was always a piano in the house. My sister started playing when she was three and I did too.

JG: Who were your first big influences?
BP: Wow… Ray Charles, of course. Ray Charles and the reason is that his music was gospel, it had this gospel vibe. And I really related to him. I used to put my choir robe on and pantomime to his music. So he became my idol then. And then, of course, a lot of the gospel musicians that were big at the time: Curtis Dublin, Herbert Picard, Reverend James Cleveland and a lot of the piano players that were playing in those days were a great influence to me. I grew up with Andrae Crouch, who was also a musician, we were in a group together called C.O.G.I.C. We used to always listen to the records and learn.

JG: I once read an article on Sly Stone where you were once quoted as having said that you met him at a party where you were listening to Ray Charles. Tell us a little bit about your friendship with Sly Stone.
BP: Well, Sly’s like a brother. He’s like…. We’ve always considered ourselves 50% of each other. Because when we play together, it’s just magic. It’s just a wonderful experience. Sly is just… Sly! You know, he’s a character. We both had dreams at the time to form a group. It was at the time that the Beatles were big and we said, we’re gonna have four cats. We’re gonna be the black Beatles, except we’re gonna call ourselves The Sons of Ray. It was gonna be me, Sly, Larry Graham and Freddie (Stone). At the time, I was on Capitol Records and I was working with Ray and I told Ray about Sly and he got excited that we were going to form a group and name it after him. So I got Ray to produce the session. But it so happened that Sly was late, he showed up to the session late and I was so hurt because here we’ve got Ray Charles waiting on Sly! I think Sly was a little scared to be in the presence of Ray. We did do the session but nothing came of it. After that, Sly went on back and formed the Family Stone and he called me to come up there and work on his project.

JG: That was you playing the electric piano on “Family Affair?” I love that.
BP: Yeah, that was me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

JG: Have you seen Sly lately?
BP: No. Not too many people have seen Sly lately. I want to see him. I hope that he gets it together to the point he’ll come back and we’ll get to play some more. I talk to Rose (Stone). I haven’t spoken to Freddie recently, I’ve tried to call him a couple times. You know, he’s a pastor now. I’m happy for him. But I haven’t seen Sly. I always ask Rose how he’s doing. He seems to be okay, but he’s not… there’s something happening with him, I don’t know.

JG: How well did you know another musical idol of mine, Donny Hathaway? I know that he redid a couple of your songs. [1971’s “Little Girl” and 1973’s “Lord Help Me”]
BP: Yeah, he did the heck out of them. I didn’t really know Donny that well. We met in New York and hung out a few times. I really didn’t spend a lot of time with Donny. Donny was kind of a different, really strange person.

JG: How so?
BP: I think he was really introverted. So he wasn’t really an open type cat. We sat one time and we talked but we didn’t hang out or anything. But he was a genius, really something else.

JG: So what are you working on now, that we can look forward to?
BP: I’m getting ready to do a pop album. I’ve been doing a lot of gospel, that’s my roots. Me and my sister started a gospel label. We’re working on different projects there. I have Lucinda Tatum, who’s a great narrator and we did a project a few years ago called Words and Music, so we’re working on her next album. My sister’s kids have a group too. I also work at church with my sister, she’s the minister of music at Brookins AME. I play the organ at the church. It’s a joy because all these years, we’ve worked at different churches, but we’ve never worked together at the same church.

JG: Do you think there’s anything about you that’s been misunderstood?
BP: Yeah, but it’s all a growing process and you live and learn. You make mistakes and you just get up, you don’t stay down. You just have to regroup and start over or do whatever’s necessary. I’m grateful for the experience of whatever I’ve had to go through. I’ve gotten stronger by all of it. And I thank God that my gift is still there and my mind and my spirit. So it’s okay.

JG: How were you able to maintain in light of your more serious legal issues? [In the 1980s and 90s, Preston was convicted of insurance fraud and battled drug and alcohol addiction.]
BP: Well, through God. Through my spiritual experience. Really getting back to my purpose, what God put me here for. It really grounded me. It separated me from everything, so it had to ground me. I had nothing but myself and the Lord to deal with, so that really did me good.

JG: Did you have any points where you felt like, “Well, maybe this is it? I can’t go back.”
BP: Well, I don’t want to go back. There’s nothing I want to go back to. It’s always about what’s ahead. What’s past is past. I’m not trying to recapture the past and go back and do the things I did before. Even though I still sing the same songs forever. But I’m reaching for the future. I don’t live in the past.

JG: Okay, I just need to know where in the world did you come up with “Outa-Space”?
BP: Yes. (laughs) There was a new instrument that had just come out, the clavinet. I rented it for the session. And I was just playing it, I put a wah-wah pedal on it. I was just playing around. And I just came up with this little groove. Just automatically, the band caught on to it. We took one take of it and that’s the record.

JG: Wow.
BP: It was just one take, man. It was magic. That’s what happened with “Space Race”, the synthesizer had just come out. I rented it for the session and we came up with this little tune and it was a classic. The world of music is just so exciting right now because of the technology and the new instruments they’re making now. I’ve got a guy in there now, wiring up some stuff for me. Music is just a wonderful thing and there’s always something new to look forward to.

JG: How did you get cool with The Beatles?
BP: I met the Beatles in 1962. I was on tour with Little Richard. It was supposed to be a gospel tour but it turned out to be rock and roll. I went with him and played rock and roll for the first time. The Beatles were a supporting act on the show. So we became friends then, and then we started hanging out. They asked me about America. I didn’t see them again until I was on tour with Ray Charles in England and George Harrison came to the show. He sent a message for me to come by the studio the next day. I went by and they were all there recording and everything, so they said, “C’mon and play.” So I sat in and they asked me to come back and help them finish their album. I did three albums with them: The White Album, Abbey Road and Let It Be. That was a great experience, they treated me like a member of the family. We became like brothers. It opened a new avenue for me because it was the first time that I ever got to sing on a record, the first time I ever got to co-produce a record. So, it was a great experience.

JG: How close do you think you came to actually being a member of the group?
BP: I was. I was actually a member. Had they stayed together, I probably would’ve been out there with them. But they had stopped touring at that time. The last time we performed together was on the roof of Apple. I was kind of upset about it. (laughs) It would’ve been really nice. But by my being there with them, I understood all the hassles that they were going through, you know, with their business and money missing. And it seemed like, “God, if the Beatles aren’t being treated right, then what hope could I have?” They were kind enough to let me out of the contract because they were having so many problems.

JG: I saw a quote that Andy Summers of the Police said about Miles Davis, where he said that you could basically trace the history of black music through following Miles’ career. As I was looking at your career, I was thinking that someone could say the same thing about you. Out of all those people that you’ve played with, who awed you the most?
BP: Who awed me the most? I don’t know. A lot of people admire me and that’s a great thing. I’ve admired Ray Charles and, in fact, you mentioned Miles Davis, I met him once at a press conference and he came in and took me out to his car and played me a track called “Billy Preston.” I was blown away! That was a great honor for him to do that. I don’t know, it’s guess it’s a mutual admiration society amongst artists and musicians. We all appreciate each other for what we do. It’s not a competitive thing. It’s just appreciating each other.

Budgets, Shoots, Schemers and Friends

2006-05-20T21:26:00.000-07:00

Between increased responsibilities at the day job and the steady progression of my short film, I feel like my head's about to explode. But I can honestly say that God has been guiding my efforts, creating ways where there previously wasn't.

As of today, I have: all my locations set, all my cast in place, and my crew is almost in place, sort of. I'm trying to get on the same page with my sound mixer, who seems really interested in the script, but may be booked up the weekend of the shoot.

Here's some low budget facts:
1) The short's entire payroll is coming off my lone credit card.

2) We're using four rooms in my house for scenes.
3) We're shooting an after dark scene at a park notorious for its late night drug transactions.
4) I've been so busy playing director, I haven't made time to learn my lines.
5) We wanted to shoot two scenes in the clubhouse in my gated community, but they turned me down because they "didn't have enough time to research what my shooting would entail." Everytime I drive past the place, I throw eggs.
6) Everyone's been hating on my camera, but its lack of long range focus will force me to make tighter shots. Which is good.

Went out to the Project:Involve shorts fest last week sponsored by Film Independent over in Hollywood. Some pretty decent work there, but I just wanted to see what I was up against. Took my Toledo friend Rob Neal, who's my editor, and may possibly end up being my cinematographer as well. It was good to catch up with him as I hadn't seen him years. Yet I think it's fate that we reconnected, just before I embark upon what could be a very important turning point in my life. Today, me and the wife drove around L.A. most of the day, doing pick up shots of the great city of Los Angeles for what I hope to be my opening credits. (It's my 400 Blows tribute. Cats who know me, know I will pay tribute to Francois Truffaut's films whenever possible.) I really think that's why my scripts ran into problems with the Hollywood types. It's bad enough to be a person who is heavily influenced by European filmmakers in this color by numbers movie climate. It's even worse to be that way and be black. THEY CAN'T SEE ME.

Haven't been alongside the Clippers during their playoff run. Haven't had time. My Pistons have stumbled into a Game 7 with a Cavs team playing way above their heads. (Really, Detroit's just been playing way BELOW their heads.) I'm so angry about the way the series has gone, I've become numb. The refs are giving LeBron respect like he's already Jordan, and my crew are not playing Detroit Pistons basketball. They're not playing Detroit Shock basketball either. They're barely playing Detroit Country Day basketball. And I'm talking about the junior high team. It's sickening. I have obsessed over this series to a state of Zen. Whatever will be will be.

In addition, as if I weren't busy enough, I'm copyediting a few articles for the as yet unnamed Intrepid Media Short Story collection, which will be released this fall. ("The Meaning of Michael," an old short story that I wrote about a jazz trumpeter who reunites with estranged, legendary father was thankfully accepted to the collection.) The last few rejection letters from my essays are beginning to trickle in, including very nice rejection letters from The Sycamore Review and The Missouri Review, which have encouraged me -- as much as a rejection can encourage anyone. I'm also working on a very late late addition to my book of essays called "The Simple Life" (it's about my marriage and the ins and outs of marriage in general). I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining, but I feel like I'm in the middle of a storm.

If the Clippers win their series, I don't know if I'll be at the games. But, thanks to the regular season, photographically, I'm covered either way.

RIP Johnnie Wilder, Jr.

Alvin Brown is my first cousin's son. You heard it here first.

A long week

2006-05-05T22:33:00.000-07:00

Man, this has been a long week. I'm thigh deep in preparations for my short film, which I am now starring in, as well as directing. I've been pounding the pavement for a cinematographer and sound mixer, but as yet, people have been slow to respond. I know this isn't a big-budget production, or even a feature, but man, it's about the work! I'm trying to give cats a chance to be a part of something and it's like nobody's trying to feel me. Like the audition last Saturday, I was supposed to have 15 black men show up for the lead part of Shawn. Only two came. They were both decent actors but they just weren't what I was looking for.

I'm not Shawn on the surface, but I know him. I have willed myself into greatness before.

My locations are coming into place slowly but surely. Thankfully, three scenes will be shot in dressed up sections of my home and a couple others (hopefully) within the gates of my guarded community. Go Inglewood!

Consequently, Game 5 of the Nuggets and Clippers will have to be my last. I just don't have the time or money right now. Besides, the bigger papers were starting to move in and it was beginning to look like the Scoop was going to get the short end of the stick. (I don't even have time to go into the ups and downs I went through trying to lace you with these pictures.) But I'd like to thank the Clippers organization for the opportunity. Game 5 was John Blaze, the Clippers were pretty much in control th whole time, and I got to holla at David Aldridge (very humble cat) and Adam Morrison (remember when I talked about him a few months ago, scroll down to the bottom of the page if not).

Not to mention, I've got increased responsibilities at the day job. This is all going to be a tough juggle for the next month. The good news is, my film is cast. There is no bad news... just obstacles to be overcome. Meanwhile, go sniff around on IMDB sometime. You may be surprised at what you find.

I guess that's it for now. LeBron is erasing the doubters. But we all know it's still all about my Pistons. Word.

Clippers-Nuggets Gm 2

2006-04-26T20:15:00.000-07:00

Monday night was bananas. Ok, I know some of you know that I do photography for the L.A. Scoop and consequently, cover Clippers games. I've been to about nine games this year and have a ton of pictures to show for it. Anyway, I missed Game 1 due to my housewarming but I wasn't going to miss anymore games, no matter what was going on.

The playoffs are no joke. I know what the players must feel like because even as a spectator, you can feel the energy in the air. I'm looking around me, I'm seeing Billy Crystal and Frankie Muniz (Malcolm from Malcolm in the Middle) and Jay Mohr and Penny Marshall. I'm seeing random NBA cats like Nate McMillan and Jay Williams (the ex-Duke one) and Mike Dunleavy, Jr. (that cat is TALL in person) milling around. I stand just inside the entrance. David Aldridge walks past. Kiki Vandeweghe. Doug Collins. Elgin Baylor with his fine wife. The crowd: a sea of red, not quite like a Nebraska home game circa Tommy Frazier, not quite like a Bloods convention, but getting there. And I continue to marvel that I've somehow talked my way into this gig -- and shot enough decent pictures to keep me around, but somehow, it all seems a little surreal.

Fifteen minutes till game time and I'm walking to my seat. I'm in front of the Clippers' bench, three seats in from the basket. This is prime real estate. I can't believe it.

But I have to snap out of it quick: as I'm approaching, some chubby, funny-built Newman off of Seinfeld looking cat is standing with his camera, complaining to one of the Clippers' staff. He's standing over my spot, pissed.

"The L.A. Scoop? Who the hell are they? What they doing over here? Have you heard of that paper? Who the hell gave them this spot?"

He goes on and on, failing to recognize that I'm right behind him. But I'm about my business. I step around him and take my seat. I ignore Stay Puff and begin pulling out my camera. I don't see him looking at me, but I feel him. Refrigerator's mood changes from angry to salty. He knows I heard him. He waddles up to me, all inquisitive, like, "Are you with the Scoop?"

"Yes."

"Where are you guys based?"

"South L.A."

"Are you a weekly paper or a group of papers?"

"A weekly black newspaper."

"Oh, 'cause I'd never seen you before."

"I'm usually on the other side of the basket, but I've been here."

(Scintillating story continued below.)

(Before and after? Just playin', Earl.)

Clippers-Nuggets Gm 2

2006-04-26T19:59:00.000-07:00

Jay Mohr, niggas!

So, anyway, back to my story: so then, my hefty adversary bones out. I'm thinking, why are you all in my way? Go shoot your pictures from whatever spot they gave you. And I'm already peepin' game, like Cartman can't possibly be from a big paper because cats from Sports Illustrated and the AP already have the prime spots, so they're too busy flirting with the Clippers' dancers to be beefing cause some young black cat is doing his thing. I'm not tripping him, I've got work to do (c) Isley Brothers. But the hateration doesn't stop.

Midway through the second quarter, this brotha (and I use the term loosely) -- who I later learned was from a rival publication -- came and took Getty Images' seat (Getty Images didn't show up) to my right, closer to the basket. The fact that he did it, didn't bother me, because it's kind of an unspoken rule that if cats don't show up, you can take their spot. What got me was that this dude inched up on me, then sat all the way out dang near touching the Clippers' logo. I turned to get a shot under the basket and all I saw was the back of this negro's head. I'm abnormally laidback, but when cats try to take advantage, I go to some other place. So West Toledo Jason inched out with him and we was dang near out on the court. I imagined Cassell or somebody diving for the ball and tripping over us and breaking his leg and being out for the playoffs. We'd be on the cover of the Times' sports section, angrily blaming each other and be ostracized from the biz like some ghetto Jayson Blairs.

(Quick aside: when Cuttino Mobley hit his half-court three at the buzzer, my wife said she saw me on TV. She was hype. I thought my phone would be blown up. But I remembered that cats don't really watch Clippers games. Or maybe I don't have any friends. Or maybe I do have friends but they have better things to do than call me cause they saw me on TV for three seconds. Maybe I'm thinking about this too much.)

Then in the third quarter, some Coach K looking dude with a Brazilian accent is sitting in my seat. But I'm like water, nigga (c) Bruce Lee [except for the "nigga" part] so I just sat down in the Getty Images spot, because I knew they wasn't coming. Your boy from the rival paper came back late and ended up dang near sitting in Shaun Livingston's lap because there were hardly any spots left on the floor.

WITH A KEY, SISSSSSSSIIIIIIIEEEEEESSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If these cats get to the Western Finals or whatever, pray for your boy. Might see me and Chris Farley on some fisticuffs by the scorers' table.

Let the playoffs begin!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-04-21T19:31:00.000-07:00

So here's the thing: a brotha won't even be at Game 1 because our housewarming is the same day and basically overlaps. I'm still hurt about it, but what am I gonna do? Tell people, "Thanks for stopping by, make sure you lock up when you leave." I am so amped about this year's NBA playoffs. I think, as several others have written, that this may be amongst the best playoffs ever. Regardless of the haters, Jordan's retired, Dr. J is long gone. Get over it. The new kids are taking over.

But to keep you laced, here's a few pictures I took from the last time the Clips played Denver, just a few weeks ago, when the Clips gave up 75 points in the first half but still came back and won. I got a quick chance to chat with Earl Boykins after the game, he's a real, cool, laid back Ohio dude just like I expected.

As you can tell, I'm rushing, but I had to say a little something. The film's going okay: I've been getting a ton of headshots and I'm holding auditions in L.A. next Saturday. Still trying to nail down some locations. Things are coming together piece by piece. But anyway, gotta finish cleaning up this house. Holla.

The Low End-centric Phife Dawg Interview -- September 30, 2004

2006-04-17T18:29:00.000-07:00

Before y'all start clowning, like, "why this bushy eyebrow fool keep putting all this stuff from '04 on his page," understand that there's a lot of stuff I've done that has yet to see the light of day. (I have a 5, 000-word, seven-year-old article on Donny Hathaway that would make you cry.) Anyway, in the summer of '04, I was supposed to write for this startup underground hip-hop magazine called Resist. I pitched a "look back" article, designed to chronicle the making of a classic rap album. Eventually, we decided on A Tribe Called Quest's brilliant 1991 sophomore album, The Low End Theory. Through my boy Russ's connections, we got in touch with Phife Dawg's manager, DJ Rasta Root, who put me in touch with the man himself.

Most of the questions were Low End Theory-specific. If I had known that the magazine would fold before it started, and that getting to talk to the other two members would be decidedly more problematic, I would've asked more questions. Just as a fan. But as Phife said, you learn from your mistakes. Anyway, here's one-third of my favorite rap group of all time chatting via cell phone from his digs in Oakland. I found Malik Taylor (his given name) to be just as painfully honest and hysterically funny as the MC who let loose on such classic anthems as "Scenario" and "Award Tour." And I felt just as familiar talking with him as someone I had known my entire life.

JG: When did you first know that you wanted to do music?
Phife: I knew I wanted to be an MC when I realized I wasn’t growing any taller to play basketball. My dad played sports and around Queens, if you don’t play music and sports, you was a nerd. To get girls, rhyming was the thing. It was something that that I grew to enjoy. It became something I had to do.

JG: Who were your favorite MCs and musicians growing up?
Phife: Run DMC, LL Cool J, The Treacherous Three, Cold Crush… But my all-time favorites were KRS-One and Slick Rick.

JG: Your parents are both Trinidadian?
Phife: Yes.

JG: How did that culture influence you as a person and musician?
Phife: I couldn’t get away from it. Everybody in my family is from there. It kept me grounded. We wasn’t rich but had a lot of love. We were real close knit. Calypso is the thing in Trinidad. Like how reggae is the thing in Jamaica or go-go in D.C. Calypso was a huge influence.

JG: When did you first meet (bandmates Q-Tip and Ali Shaheed Muhammad)?
Phife: I’ve known Tip all my life, I guess we met when we were two. Tip’s mom went to church with my grandma. The church ran the private school that I went to. Tip came to that school in the third grade. We were running mates in school, Little League, everything. As for Ali, he and Tip went to the same high school. [Murry Bergtraum] Jarobi moved around my grandmother’s neighborhood in Queens and we met when we were around 12 or 13.

JG: What were your first impressions of all of them?
Phife: Well, Tip was my best friend all through grade school, so I loved him! Ali seemed stern. Not that he didn’t have fun, but he’s really about business. Once that vein pops in his head, you don’t want to mess with him. In Tribe, Ali is definitely the spoon that stirred everything. If Tip and Phife are off wandering, he’s the one that’ll steer them back into line. Jarobi’s a knucklehead, but in a good way. If there’s tension, he’ll say something stupid to break it up.

JG: Tell me about the early days of the group. Any early talent show memories? And how did you guys learn one another’s preferences and dislikes as far as rhyming together?
Phife: Well, it was easy for Tip and I because we grew up together. We hung out so much that we could finish off each other’s sentences. Ali and Tip came together in high school. The chemistry between me and Ali just happened. I don’t remember any talent shows as a group. Tip and Ali were going to do something together and me and Jarobi were going to do something together but we were all together so much that once they got on with Jive, they put us on. Me and Jarobi weren’t on the first record contract.

JG: How did you guys hook up with the Jungle Brothers and De La Soul?
Phife: For the Jungle Brothers, Mike G and Afrika went to Murry Bergtraum. Mike G’s uncle is DJ Red Alert. We were just in the right place and the right time. Red Alert put them on, then they put us on. As for De La, we were fans of the “Plug Tunin’” record. I met them at a Jungle Brothers concert in Queens. They seemed to get everything from the jump -- inside jokes and stuff like that. Like if they were joking about something, you might be standing there and not get it or not understand. But I got the things that they were saying right then. We hit it off right away. We were all just a bunch of buddies who could do music and come together.

JG: How did you all come to the attention of Jive? Were there other labels interested?
Phife: I do know that Geffen was interested. But we got Jive’s attention through Tip’s work with the Jungle Brothers and De La Soul.

JG: By the second album, were you already having problems with Jive?
Phife: No, not by then. When Tip said the whole industry rule #4080 line, it was more due to managerial problems we were having. We learned a lot from the first album. We were under Red Alert’s management at the time. It was nothing that he did wrong. It was just time for us to become men and grow up.

JG: Did you do any production on the album?
Phife: No, Tip and Ali did all the production.

JG: What inspired you to write “Butter?”
Phife: Some of it was true. The other half was me making up stuff.

JG: Where was the group at while recording the album: emotionally, creatively, mentally, financially?
Phife: Do or die. We had to get over the managerial problems. At the time that we did the second album, the first hadn’t gone gold. Not that that’s the most important thing in the world, but, I felt like we’d have to get our shine on or we’d have to get regular jobs. I happened to run into Tip on the train one day and he said, “We gotta take it more serious.” We had a long talk. We decided I’d be more on the second album. We had to keep the Tribe thing going. Because we were doing shows and getting love everywhere we went. We had to step up to another level.

JG: How much do you think your personal lives affected what the album became?
Phife: I think that’s a good question for Tip. It was something that I had to do. I was working hard to accomplish something on all the Tribe albums, but especially the second one. It’s not that I wanted to be the star of the show. I’m a team player. My main concern was to contribute to the group. Get the money, get the house.

JG: Let’s talk about “Scenario.” Tell me about the night you performed it on The Arsenio Hall Show, the performance which made a whole lot of people pay attention to Busta Rhymes.
Phife: It was definitely a fun evening. We were just lovin’ to go to L.A. That was the epitome of traveling to us. It was our first time on Arsenio and everybody was juiced. Leaders of the New School came with us. I remember going to the Beverly Center. And Arsenio always had his guests stay at the Mondrian on Sunset. Instead of keys for the door, they had codes for the lock. They’d give you one or you could make it up. We were impressed by that. I kept thinking, “Everybody watches Arsenio, don’t mess up!” I think that was the best TV appearance that our group or the Leaders ever had. I remember I took Busta’s Dr. Seuss hat and held the mic for him.

JG: How do you feel about that song now?
Phife: When I hear it, I crack a smile. But I perform it all the time. When we first recorded it, it was one of the first songs we did. The original version had Black Sheep, Pos, Chris Lighty was even on it. Towards the end of the recording, we recorded it again and that’s the album version. Tip did the original beat as well as the other. He’s a perfectionist, which is his fault and strength. Tip could play me a beat on Thursday and I’ll be like, “That’s hot.” Then I’ll talk to him on Saturday and he’ll be like, “I hate that beat.” That’s just how he is. But as long as the music’s hot, I’ll let Q-Tip be Q-Tip.

JG: What was the difference between the way that Jive promoted that single and the way they did some of the other ones?
Phife: I never felt like they promoted anything, it was all us. They might have picked a single on the first album, but after that, it was us doing everything. They might have sent us on a promotional tour every now and then, but I don’t even remember that.

JG: Were you into jazz like Tip and Ali?
Phife: Not as much. No, I can’t say I was. I grew to love it being around them all the time. Seeing them pull things out for the samples. I do production now and they taught me all I know as far as production.

JG: Were there some other songs recorded for the album that didn’t make the cut?
Phife: “Mr. Incognito” didn’t make it. Thank God.

JG: How did you and Tip decide which songs you’d rap on together and which ones you’d do separately?
Phife: There were some songs that I didn’t like, that I didn’t want to rap on the beat. On the later albums, not on Low End Theory. Like on The Love Movement, “Like It Like That.” Originally, I didn’t like “Stressed Out.” Then, there was another beat, which I liked, but by the time he did the new one, I was in a foul mood.

JG: Tell me about the day you recorded “Check the Rhime.” And also the day that you shot the video.
Phife: I really don’t remember the day we recorded it. It was just an original beat that we had. As for the video, I just remember that it was the hottest day of the summer. And we were just out in the neighborhood, standing on top of the cleaners.

JG: Who directed that video?
Phife: I think his name was Joseph Swindell. He’s the same guy who directed the “Jazz” video. He shot all the videos for the album.

JG: What does the album title mean?
Phife: There’s two meanings: The first is the low end as far as the bass in the music. Also, how the black man is always on the low end of the totem pole for whatever reason.

JG: Where were you all living in those days?
Phife: I moved to Atlanta right after Midnight Marauders. Now Tip and Ali are in Jersey. I have homes in Queens, Atlanta and Oakland, where my fiancee lives.

JG: What was going on with Jarobi in those days?
Phife: When we were recording the first album -- Jarobi’s into the culinary arts, so he made up his mind that he wanted to go to school for that and that’s what he wanted to do.

JG: What was life like on the road promoting that album?
Phife: Staying up all night. After parties. Girls, more girls. It was never crazy. You know how you hear all those stories. Everyone had their moments but it never got out of control. Boys will be boys. Me personally, everywhere we went… like, if we had a show in Portland, I was at a Blazers game. Detroit -- a Pistons game. Tip’d be record shopping all day. Tip really didn’t really like touring, he’s a studio rat. He’d spend all day there if he could. I’m just now understanding that.

JG: What was your relationship like with Violator Management?
Phife: It was cool. They did a lot for us. Towards the end, it was just time to move on. Like, when it came to marketing, they’d call Tip and Ali before me, which I thought was bullshit.

JG: Did you ever feel restricted within the group in terms of things you could say by the label, management, or the group members themselves?
Phife: I always felt like that. Now that I’m older, I did my own album. I saw what that was like. Phife is 1/3 of Tribe, period. Mutty Ranks (Phife's alter ego) is Phife himself, just don’t give a damn. When it really affected me was an interview with Chris X, for a London hip-hop magazine. He made it like I was the black sheep of the group, like I was the lost child. Because I didn’t share the same [religious beliefs]. I said, if [Tip and Ali] aren’t knocking me, who are you to do that? That’s when I didn’t want to be in the group anymore. “Phife’s the weak link. Is it too late for Phife?” I thought it was unfair. [But] I’m not a crybaby dude.

Internally, there were some issues. We’re not gonna agree all the time. I have a hard time being phony. There were a lot of times like, if I’d have just shut up, I coulda benefited. But I have no regrets. It was a lot of whisperings going on behind my back when I moved to Atlanta. My reasons were that I was tired of New York. I’m 22 years old, living in my grandmother’s basement. My mom lived in Brooklyn. I’m a rap artist on BET, with rotation, you’re getting paid to do what you love but you have to sneak girls in the house. Neighbors ratting on you. My grandma’s a nurse, so she worked nights.

I didn’t have to move to Atlanta. But I was dating someone serious at the time who was there. I don’t know why I thought that would work. I was hoeing. I should’ve known that wouldn’t work. They were whispering, like, he don’t care about the group. That caused a little separation. The chemistry on Beats, Rhymes and Life wasn’t there. It just wasn’t a good time for us. The last album, I didn’t want to be involved. I agree I was wrong for that. I have no regrets. You learn from your mistakes.

Home for Christmas -- December 2004

2006-04-16T08:22:00.000-07:00

In light of Easter, I wanted to take a trip back in time to celebrate family. This was my first trip home six months after my father died.

My nephew and niece. This was one of the first photographs I took with my Canon EOS.

My sister Sherry. If you know her, you know this picture fits her like a glove. The hand in the background belongs to this corny four feet tall talking Santa that my Mom bought.

Three of my lovely nieces. All you dudes can back up a few steps.

My best friend Reshard and my goddaughter.

LA Clippers .vs Memphis Grizzlies -- Feb. 10, 2006

2006-04-15T14:49:00.000-07:00

2006-04-14T20:07:00.000-07:00

I'm not in love with the composition of this picture but the groom & bride's son makes this shot interesting.

I get very critical of blurriness in my sports photos, but it seems to actually work here.

Lean back...lean back...lean back...

Shot, as always, with my trusty Canon EOS A2. That's right: film. I'm old school like Will Ferrell and 'dem.

The wedding was dark, but I tried to capture the small moments.

The King of Marvin Gardens

2006-03-22T21:10:00.000-08:00

I'm butter like Parkay, far out like Stargate
Get bored and walk on niggas like Park Place
-- me, circa 1995

So I'm at Walgreens the other day with wifey, and we decide on the spur of the moment (as is often the case in a home with two artists) to buy some board games. She buys a four in one set that features tic tac toe, backgammon (which I now have to reteach myself how to play), chess and checkers. I decided to buy Monopoly, which I had talked about buying for months, yet -- like many noble tasks that I talk about -- never got past the blabbering stage. It doesn't take much to get me excited: man we own MONOPOLY! Opening up the box reminded me of so many memories of past games.

October 2, 2002: Down to my last $20, but owning Park Place and Boardwalk with a hotel on each, your boy swiftly manuevers his way through the minefield and comes back to win the whole frickin' game.

January 19, 1991: Lost, but watched in amazement as an unnamed friend of mine patents the practice of buying all the cheap properties on the first side of the board, swiftly putting hotels on each of them, then failing to buy anything else the rest of the game. When teased about his pride in redeveloping such crime-ridden, poverty-laced slums such as Baltic Ave., my friend replies, "But y'all some soft suburban niggas. I got the 'hood on lock." Unfortunately, his $100 rent doesn't add up quickly enough to pay the debt when he lands on Marvin Gardens (with three houses), and then -- on the next roll -- Pennsylvania Avenue (with a hotel). He went bankrupt and the projects on Connecticut Avenue haven't been the same since.

Okay, I don't really have many more memorable games than that. (I'm really more of an Uno and Scrabble dude, and I'll smash anybody in Connect Four.) But it's time to get started. My wife and I are both nice people, but hopelessly competitive. It should be fun. If I wind up at your doorstep at three a.m., though, just let me in. When she loses, Wifey be on some old, won't talk to you for two days type madness. But I can't talk, I be on some old won't talk to you ever again type madness. Monopoly. Fun for the whole family.

Haven't done much in the way of scouting locations for my movie, since, due to prior commitments that I was recently reminded of, the earliest I can hope to shoot is the first weekend in June. One of the locations is walking distance from my house. Have I gone inside? Called the people there to ask permission? No, I drive past it every night and come home and watch basketball. But I did buy my DV camcorder online as well as order some new business cards. And I'm placing in ad in Back Stage West looking for all my actors.

The short is called "How Shawn Parker Fell in Love." It's a 25-page, loosely autobiographical script about a playboy who falls for a girl after rescuing her from a suicide attempt. No, I am not a playboy (regardless of what lies my high school or college friends might tell you) and no, my wife never tried to kill herself. But it's still loosely autobiographical. I originally wrote the script about three or four years ago, but due to the fact that I was in the beginning of my burnout from Hollywood politics (I am just now returning), it just sat and collected dust. But it's time now. I'm going really low budget, as I'm coming off my own credit card. It's a risk, of course, but so is wasting my life waiting on an infrastructure that doesn't care about me to come knocking on my door.

American Idol calls me a like a sexy ex-girlfriend. I think it's the devil's ploy to make me less productive than I already am. Paris is at the point where I'm questioning why she's even on the show. I'm like, "You're 17 and cute and have a once in a lifetime talent. In addition, you're the granddaughter of the lady from Sounds of Blackness. You coulda just went out and sang in the middle of Times Square and got a deal." She's too good for them. I like Mandisa. And Katharine MacPhee is who I'd be rooting for if Paris wasn't the second coming of Billie Holiday. Chris and Ace are holding it down for the fellas.

As for my musical tastes, someone asked me why I'm always shouting out old music. There are some younger cats doing it today, but mostly here's why. I've really been on Stevie's Talking Book lately, especially "Lookin' For Another Pure Love" (Jeff Beck's guitar solo kills it) and "Tuesday Heartbreak."

Otherwise, just chillin'. Enjoying my Pistons' dismantling of our so-called biggest threat, the Miami Heat. And why have I been mesmerized by Adam Morrison all year?

Dude is bony, has an ugly J, plays no defense, but why is he my favorite college player since Penny Hardaway? And why is he still not the most revolutionary player in college right now? Back to Morrison, it looks like the NBA owners and suburban white fans will finally get their wish. Meanwhile, March Madness is getting ready to rumble, so we can watch the further deterioration of my bracket.

Not my greatest work, but nobody beats the Biz. (Or Elgin Baylor.)

Later.

2006-03-18T11:57:00.000-08:00

Man, what a week. Where do I start? I had a ball with my boy Reshard in town. We went to the Clippers-76ers game last night (no Iverson, so sad) and then headed out to Roscoe's Chicken & Waffles for... chicken & waffles. Don't laugh if you've never had it, those in the know know where I'm coming from. He talked me into going out and playing ball on Monday, knowing I ain't been in true ballin' shape since... man, I don't even want to expose myself like that. But friends have a way of getting you to do stuff that you know you probably shouldn't do, so me and him and his brother went over to the Westchester Y to shoot some ball. The first game felt awkward to me, but my biggest surprise was that, endurance wise, I was in much better shape than I had anticipated. By the second game, I felt more in sync with myself. Unfortunately, my teammates didn't see the same things that I saw, so after I missed a couple of shots (badly, I might add), they pretty much froze me out. During the third game, I jumped to block a shot and felt a slight pull in my back. I disregarded it, until a few plays later when I jumped to block another shot and felt a STRONG pull, like someone punched me directly in my back. Remember the dude from He-Man who had the big iron fist? Yeah, it felt like he punched me in the back. That was it, I was done. I went and laid on the ground like Larry Bird in the '92 playoffs until the game was over. Even now, it still bothers me a bit when I lay down.

So I came home and told my wife what happened. She laughed.

Me: Just cause I'm 29 and had a back problem doesn't mean anything. Tracy McGrady is younger than me and he's got back problems too.

Her: But he's a multi-millionaire.

Me: I want a divorce.

But on to better things like a hip-hop forum... Wednesday was classic! You may remember that I mentioned my co-worker Markus who is an ill hip-hop beatmaker and producer. Well, Reshard and I have been rhyming on and off since junior high and I can honestly say that we're two ill cats. We bring out the best in each other and with his brother in town from D.C., it was just adding fuel to fire. So the three of us drove over to Markus's crib in Koreatown to hear his beats and we ended up freestyling to them for about 2-3 hours straight. It was sick. For those who have doubts, this is something I wrote last week:

Your boy JGil stay phat like killer whales
And impale all these frail MCs with tall tales
Talking bout your hoes & clothes, defeating foes
I suppose that your nose looks like Pinocchio's
Who's the grimiest and who's the graviest?
Subterranean like the US Navy gets
Divine like blamelessness
I'm out to game on just
Any MC who write rhymes with aimlessness
I destroy any scrub whoever try and stop me
Leave your family shook, waiting on the autopsy
Wonderin how you got mutilated and strangulated
Separate your crew like my flow was segregated

But that was written. That night, the three of us were coming straight off the dome, unrehearsed, and uncontrollable for hours. And Markus's beats were SICK. In June, he's supposed to get the rest of his equipment in (the reason why our classic session went unrecorded) and Reshard's gonna fly back out so we can lay it down.

Back to b-ball, March Madness is in full effect. (Sorry, for the old school slang, I've been listening to a lot of Public Enemy this week, trying to figure out how Flavor Flav ended up with this.) My bracket looks like a war zone already thanks to teams like Iowa (well, at least Steve Alford can start getting ready for the Indiana job) and Kansas. Thankfully, I chose the George Mason and Montana upsets, somehow. But as long as my Final Four teams are still around (Duke, UCLA, Boston College and UConn -- intriguingly, the same picks as Dick Vitale), I figure I'm in OK shape. I love this time of year. I remember in high school, on the first two days of the tourney, we'd race down to the cafeteria, get our lunch, then head back to the AV room to watch the first games. March Madness brings the country together: it makes you root for the Bucknells, the UNC-Wilmingtons, the Wisconsin-Milwaukees and other schools that you would normally never think about, all for the vanity of having a perfect bracket.

Music: I've been listening to Gil Scott-Heron obsessively this week. I'm back to fooling around with my keyboards again and songs like "A Song for Bobby Smith" and "Home is Where the Hatred Is" (I see you, Kanye) have been a big inspiration. Books: Been too busy to read any lately, but here's one I want to read soon. Angela Nissel is a hilarious writer and a really nice woman that I had a chance to meet back when her first book, The Broke Diaries, came out. I actually was able to have a conversation with her and didn't get all starstruck like when I met Zadie Smith. But for real, y'all, Angela Nissel. Support her.

That's it for now. Next time: scouting locations for my short film and more March Madness madness.

Jason Gilmore Can't Lose

The Year of Parenting Dangerously

RIP Amy Jade Winehouse

The Man Who Would Be King

Saul Bass Appreciation

New blog coming soon

And even more IEP Photos

More IEP Photos

IEP (my new short film)

discoveries and re:discoveries

My interview with Charles Burnett

The Landlord

The beginning of the end

the ten albums that changed my life

oh, what a night (c) Missy

The most beautifullest white woman of them all

Thanksgiving Eve report

Chrisette Michele is the truth!

Photograph Smile

Ghetto Candies, Vol. 1

Itzsoweezee ( yeah, right)

Takin' You Higher

More than meets the eye

San Francisco

your flow's colder, nigga, do over (c) me

R.I.P. Tony Thompson, lead singer of Hi-Five

Autres Femmes

Time

walking on sunshine

Thank God for Saturday

back in the saddle again

for those who wondered

Jason Does Atlanta, Part 2

Jason Does Atlanta, Pt. 1

Clippers .vs Jazz 12/13/06

It's been a long time (c) Rakim

Who Dey?

Septembro

The Weekend Warrior Series, Pt. 2

The Weekend Warrior Series

What I'm listening to

Home again

Get well, Patrick Payne

More Shawn Parker pics!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do I really need a permit to shoot on my own property?

RIP Billy Preston 1946-2006

Budgets, Shoots, Schemers and Friends

A long week

Clippers-Nuggets Gm 2

Clippers-Nuggets Gm 2

Let the playoffs begin!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Low End-centric Phife Dawg Interview -- September 30, 2004

Home for Christmas -- December 2004

LA Clippers .vs Memphis Grizzlies -- Feb. 10, 2006

The King of Marvin Gardens

My neck, my back, myneckandmyback © Ezell from Friday