You Are Your Hisotry

What’s really good people?

It is finally here; the much anticipated fantasy football draft for my mates and I is this weekend. This means football and fall is right around the corner and bye bye to summer. When it comes to fantasy football though this is all about bragging rights amongst the brotherhood for a whole year so you better put your best foot forward. Well the payout is not too bad at the end of the season if all goes well too. As for the summer I don’t care too much for it any longer for some reason with the exception of getting to see my nieces and nephew the infamous Kool Keedz and spending quality time with family during their visit. One more week before the holiday weekend so time to get in that last summer-time fun and get your grub on at the cookouts people.

 

Ok people; let me get focused…

My brother recently schooled me on something during his weekly let me drop some knowledge on you talks when he told me “you are your history”. I was like oh ooh this is gonna be one of them intense conversations but it turned out that it was fairly light hearted but he just wanted to get his point across after we both encountered something very disturbing in our circle.

Sure enough his words of wisdom would actually play itself out in a fun group chat with my mates this week after one of my high school pictures became the butt of all jokes. I am not too sure if it was the actual picture, the era it represented or notion that if one could get a redo this would have been one of those automatic rewind, delete and start all over moments. As usual it was just regular everyday humor and banter amongst my peoples and boy I will admit they took full advantage of this opportunity by roasting me pretty good.

What I found to be the most satisfying from all the trash talking was how not for one moment did I shy away from claiming and owning my history. Now how many people do you know are willing to own their s**t, yourself included?

Let us take a trip down memory lane shall we… How about these???

Michael Jackson and his shinny white socks - Shoulder pads in women’s clothing

Michael Jordan and his hoop ear rings - MC Hammer and his parachute pants

Hulk Hogan and his waist pouches -Socks & Sandals

Now these are the silly fashion fau paux many of us at one point have made over the years growing up.

The other type of history you have to claim is the serious ones we don’t get to laugh off so easily when it comes to decision-making. I always loved the scene in Goodfellas when Joe Pesci is confronted by another one of the mob bosses as a former shoe shiner turn gangsta. Rather than claiming it and owning his past he goes Naija style crazy with his infamous line; “I’m funny how? I mean funny like I’m a clown? I amuse you? 

Don’t let your HISTORY get you wacked!

Getting Called Out

What’s really good people?

Very excited to see my SUPER Eagles of Nigeria beat the stuffing out of the Bafana Bafana South African men’s national team in the Mandela challenge. It was only right that Nigeria would go down to South Africa (SA is now like our second home in Africa we just show up to collect trophies) mid-week and give lessons on the beautiful game. It is always good to put African countries in their rightful place with all the abuse and disrespect that gets tossed Nigeria’s way in recent years by minnow countries. Malawi you are next. Oh man, I totally almost forgot about the whole Oprah incident in Europe when she attempted to purchase a $40k handbag during her recent visit to a trendy boutique. I don’t care too much for Oprah but it turns out that even with her billions of dollars a black skin color will always be frowned upon as inferior in an Anglo-Caucasian capitalist dominant society. NWO!     

 

Ok people; let me get focused…

So I actually liked the fact that one of today’s new bubble gum rappers in hip-hop did something that was so UNORIGINAL, clearly thought out and built for the world of social media by dropping the government names of his young contemporaries on a “Diss” record. That boy is a genius I tell ya. NOT! Today’s hip-hop generation is so lost and confused they actually want to argue and swear up and down nothing like this has ever taken place before. Us old skool heads call this term “Shots Fired” boys/girls; ever hear of ETHER? Ever heard of the TAKEOVER?

Here is what I did like though; it is time to start calling people out for real. I mean too much peanut butter and jelly foolishness is going on in the world and too often people take the position of a spectator watching a live tennis match. I mean I got called out by my wife, brother, boss and doctor all in one week and that was a slow week. Guess what though, I needed to get called out and now I got a little more pep in my step going into the coming week. There will be no repeat that is for sure.

When you get called-out you must show-out. My rule is WACK is WACK. It is so funny that Kendrick Lamar would use social media to get his verbal assault out, a world where people are often so politically correct with one another with their fake Facebook likes, Twitter retweets and follows and Instagram co-signing because why nobody wants to offend nobody. Whatever happened to speaking TRUTH? 

Why do we spend so much of our energy and time on people and things that are really insignificant in our lives in the first place? Do you really think that million dollar athlete really values your opinion on his affairs. That reality television star you helped turn into a household name who now gives commentary on issues is suppose to carry weight? People in public office who do a complete 180 and flip-flop but nobody seems to care? NWO!

What I want to see is more of is family, friends, colleagues and bosses, calling us out more on our stuff. This will force us to re-assess and evaluate ourselves better before we go start calling in on a radio shows, posting on Facebook and Tweeting about things that truly are as foreign to us as the idea of taking responsibility for the lives each one of us choose to live.

Why you mad though?

The What Ifs

What’s really good people?

Let’s get right into it folks, this Fatherhood thang is pretty DOPE. Now my wallet on the other hand is taking take a MASSIVE beating. In the words of my brother A+ DRIP DRIP DRIP noni O-SHA-MO! That’s a little Yoruba for you none cultured folks out there. Next on the list is Happy Eid Mubarak to all my brothers & sisters, another year of fasting has just concluded and we give all Praise be to ALLAH the most POWERFUL & MERCIFUL. True story, I got a message in my inbox from my cousin last week along the lines of how many of my recent blog postings had turn to me venting and being angry all the time until last week. HILARIOUS. All that came to mind was how if RAMADAN can’t give me peace, I guess I am really a lost cause and will stay forever angry the rest of my life. But then again I clearly recall at least two incidents in which a couple of dudes got out of pocket with me out here in the DMV and for a split instance I actually showed restraint and was the bigger man. That’s the good news I walked away, the bad news is fasting is over and am fixing to get my Jon Jones on and will start punching dudes in their chest for living like I was back in high school all over again. I think am gonna start this very weekend to work off the rust.    

 

Ok people; let me get focused…

So I never play the Powerball lotto but except this week when someone in particular kept on insisting that he had dreams of us winning the jackpot. Hey I am all into superstitions and signs so whenever someone I know has a conversation with the gods that we fitna “EAT” then am all in like a game of poker. Let’s just say by the time the numbers came out I was feeling pretty confident. I mean I just knew the money was mine; I had the powerball number, got a second number right, and a third and what do you know its like a boxing match you see at times when the underdog has no chance but by round nine the champion done pull a Mike Tyson and you are playing the role of Buster Douglas.

Needless to say I was no Buster Douglas come Wednesday night as my three correct numbers only won me $7. That is a minus $3 if you add up the $10 I spent on my ticket. SMH. So this got me to thinking about all the of what if’s that I have read about in history and lived through in my 30 plus years;

What if Blacks were never sold by other Blacks during Slavery?

What if Nigeria could get a redo on June 12, 1993 all over again?

What if Malcolm & Martin were never murdered before they got together to reshape Black history in America?

What if 911 never happened?

What if O.J. had allegedly try to kill Nicole in today’s social media?

What if the “P man” had decided to transfer to his cross-town rival high school instead of remaining loyal to his classmates in pursuit of team success over individual accolades?

What if Black man had become President of this same United States of America? Wait a minute that did happen and dude is on his second term at that Duuuuuuuuuuuh.

Always Shoot your GUN

Hey Young World

What’s really good people?

Typically this would have been a lay-up on the MY OMO NAIJA blogspot this week after the whole Riley Cooper incident went down just 48 hours ago but there is so much positive buzz and excitement in my life this week why let a small fry like that redneck hill billy take away from the shine in my life. So maybe another week, a better teaching moment and more ignorance from other Americans just speaking their racist minds will suffice for us to chop it up more on the state of race in America.

Ok people; let me get focused…

So just a little over 24 hours back my life will forever change once again, with the blessing from the man up above and a loving wife I witnessed and became a proud father of a baby girl named Adira. All the advise and planning leading up to the birth of my daughter still could not replace being in the moment. The only way I can explain or describe it is that feeling you get when you finally get the nerve to ask your first crush out on a date, see your soon to be spouse walking in your direction in a wedding ceremony down the aisle or back in the day during your school years find yourself at a point of no return because you know its about to go down and all you can pray for is homeboy does not show being is though wait a minute did I just say “being is though”? SMH. Well being as though you don’t want to be sent to the hospital on a stretcher.

There is a fantastic ballad by pop musician Celine Dion that has been playing in my head for days now leading up to the arrival of my daughter. It goes something like;

The first time ever I saw your face

I thought the sun rose in your eyes

And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave

To the night and the empty skies, my love

To the night and empty skies etc…

Now that was the disney fairytale feel good side, how about I remind you all of all the work behind the scenes in preparing for a child birth that people just conveniently gloss over like the countless doctor’s appointments and regular check-ups mothers attend leading up to delivery, all the you do it yourself furniture you have to assemble when trying to build a nursery, monies spent by family and friends for the baby shower, hospital fees and cost that almost put you in debt and my favorite trying to learn how to install a car seat properly into my pimp ride from some volunteer at your local fire department station that can take up half of your day. WTF?

You know what at that very moment when you are first handed the baby I guess it all starts to make sense. That is the time when any responsible parent should have his/her Chris Rock moment and come to the realization that my work is just getting started. Now all the work and build up in anticipation for the delivery was great but as a father the only responsibility you have left in life to your wife and daughter is to ensure you do everything in your power to keep that girl from working any type of pole or becoming some low budget Youtube “twirking” dancer.

Buckle-up & Enjoy the Ride!