Ghetto Candies, Vol. 1

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)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.