The Friday Music News Bootleg 02.13.04

Welcome back to The Bootleg. Before we begin, I’d like to say THANK YOU to all the readers and Inside Pulse writers who took the time to send in a quick email or IM in support of my wife. I’m pleased to report that there was indeed a happy ending and I have no doubt that it made Mrs. Bootleg’s day each time I passed along the well wishes of guys like 411’s Joe Movie Guy or self-described longtime reader, first time emailer “OutlawzEmpire”.

“Do these people even know me?”, she replied after each message was passed on.

“From the top of your head to the bottom of your bulbous potato-spud feet.”, I thought to myself.

Speaking of which, as last week’s Bootleg was being posted, the wife was still in pretty serious condition. Her blood pressure was dangerously and consistently high, while the steroids she was being injected with (to strengthen the baby’s lungs) had given her head, quite literally, the circumference of Barry Bonds’ and Sammy Sosa’s noggins put together. I’m serious”¦when I saw her on the night of February 6, her eyes were nearly swollen shut. I wanted to call Linus and tell him I had found The Great Pumpkin.

The next day (Saturday), I was leaving the barbershop and called the wife to let her know that I was on my over.

“They want to deliver the baby today.”, she said.

I powered up the Saturn and almost managed to get that tinfoil rickshaw up to 40 mph, as I arrived at the hospital at 11:30 AM. Mrs. Bootleg’s room was filled with doctors, nurses and specialists who were all speaking the medical equivalent of whatever Lil’ Jon & The Eastside Boyz call English.

Picture, if you will, a six foot tall, 185 pound brutha in XXL jeans, Eddie Bauer long-sleeved shirt and a pair of bulky Lugz boots. Now, add a fluffy powder blue shower cap, a delivery-room “jumpsuit” to cover my clothes and some medical “shoe covers”.

I looked like a thug mushroom.

They ushered me into the delivery room, where the wife was being prepped for a C-section. Fortunately, I was kept away from the “business side” of the curtain and could only see Mrs. Bootleg’s face and shoulders. I casually glanced down to the floor just in time to see a pool of blood forming on the other side. The delivering nurse apparently thought I was passing out, so she (yes, she) punched me in the shoulder and asked if I was all right.

I’m tellin’ ya”¦that f*ckin’ wildebeest hit me like Bald Bull. I wasn’t passing out, but if she had landed on my chin, I would’ve been.

Since this was my first rodeo, I was prepared for a long, drawn out delivery. I tried to find some empty words of comfort to calm my wife down, but it appeared the drugs had already beaten me to it. She looked vacantly at me as I rambled on about nothing in particular (Who says my writing philosophy ain’t portable?)

Mere minutes after I entered the room, the doctors on the other side of the curtain exclaimed, “There he is!” I heard a few brief, raspy baby yelps from the other side”¦and totally f*ckin’ lost it. Man, I had one of those nasty runny nose, inconsolable, slobbering kind of crying jags that are usually only seen when ABC gets those great close-up shots of the losers in the Little League World Series Championship game.

On Saturday, February 7th at 1:22 PM, my son, Jalen Henderson Cameron, was born.

Henderson? As in future Hall of Famer and longtime Oakland Athletic Rickey Henderson? You bet’cha!

The Vitals
Weight: 3 lbs. 1 oz.
Length: 16 inches
Arrival: 8 weeks premature

Fun Facts: He looks exactly like me and I’m already dreading the “talk”, where I have to explain the other kids’ taunts of “canned ham head” to him”¦He’s got the longest arms n’ legs I’ve ever seen, like a Black version of former cartoon hero Plastic Baby”¦. He arrived exactly three weeks before the baby shower in his honor”¦Amazingly, he’s breathing on his own and has a strong, healthy heart.

It’s been almost a week and mother and child are doing great. Mrs. Bootleg is still very sore from her Caesarian, which I’m told is not nearly as delicious as his salads (ooh, especially when you get it with blackened chicken on top). The wife should be home as you read this, while Jalen will continue to live in the ICU for six to eight more weeks.

He’s in great hands with the hospital staff, though, and I’m counting down the days until I’m changing a diaper with one hand and typing up The Goodness with the other. Pray that I remember which hand is which.

In other news”¦

The One-Year Anniversary of the Friday News Bootleg!

I wish there were an interesting backstory to the origin of this Bootleg gig, but there’s not. Someone named Adam Cornucopia had the Friday news slot for a few months and left the site in early February last year. Widro sent out a staff email and asked if anyone was interested in filling the news void.

I had wanted to do more than music reviews, anyway, so I fired Wids an email voicing my interest and the rest, as the say is AP History.

Has it really been 365 days since I typed these words”¦?

Hey, kids, welcome to the debut of The Bootleg. The handful of my loyal readers (hi, mom!) knows me as this site’s resident rap music reviewer. Wait, don’t leave! While I make no secret of my love for hip hop, I’ll do my best to cover all genres as fairly and as accurately as possible. I’ll mix in a little commentary, too, but I’ll try to keep it balanced by taking shots at everyone.

Man, I’m not sure what was worse”¦my pathetic begging for people to read past the first few lines or my use of the words “fairly” and “accurately”. Believe it or not, that was the first time in this site’s history, before or since, that those words (or their implied meanings) have appeared anywhere on this site.

And, wow, those early columns sucked seven ways to Sunday, didn’t they? A sampling of the first few weeks of The Shittiness:

(Christina Aguilera) is scheduled to discuss her music, her stance on being a role model and why she won’t return any of my calls. – 2/14/03

(Jessica) Andrews has been cast to play a cheerleader. Duh-rool, duh-rool. The bad news is that it’s still the W f’n B for Christ’s sake. – 2/28/03

Tell me Badstreet, USA didn’t kick eleven kinds of ass! Hey, if you know where I can get a copy, drop me a line. – 3/7/03

Alright, enough”¦enough”¦Having those first few Bootlegs on my resume is pretty embarrassing. Admittedly, not as embarrassing as those times the wife would be on the phone with a friend and I’d hear her say, “Aaron? Oh, he’s watching wrestling.” It got to the point where I told her to say I was watching gay porn, instead”¦less of a stigma and better acting, don’t ya know.

¡Felíz Cumpleaños al Goodness!

I To Tha Dizzoo

I can’t think of any better way to kick off this Valentine’s Day edition of The Bootleg than with the language of love. Jay-Z and Beyoncé have held the title of “Hip Hop’s Hottest Couple” for over a year, now. And if things continue on their current path, they’ll likely last a lot longer than former King and Queen, Big Pun and Sara Lee. At a recent corporate affair, Jay-Z toasted a former Def Jam Records executive and included the following quote,

“You’ve been one of the best friends I could have had. Apart from this woman beside me, who I love and who I will marry very soon.”

What the hell? Jigga”¦one man to another”¦you’re going about this all wrong. You should be following the Aaron Cameron 7 Year Plan to Holy Matrimony. Year One and you’re already in good shape. You’ve started dating, done the deed”¦even let the ‘L’ word slip a few times. Year Two”¦you move in together, share an underwear drawer and take turns in the bathroom. Year Three”¦you’re able to spend 20 or 30 minutes casually talking to his/her best friend, when your significant other isn’t even home.

Years Four n’ Five”¦the weddings start. One by one, your mutual friends start falling like flies”¦hell, you’ll even be in a wedding party or two, while the chick-initiated “where are we going with this” talks begin. Year Six”¦the last straw. Her last single friend gets engaged and you feel her wrath. It’s not quite an ultimatum, but if you ain’t got a ring on her finger by the end of the year, it’s back to Top Ramen and Tuna Helper. Year Seven, y’all get married”¦and so it ends. And I mean that on every level.

Nothing To See Here

Terri Clark is a country music singer that I’ve honestly never heard of. She was recently offered a nice chunk of change to pose for the cover of the May issue of Playboy, but respectfully declined. Uh, am I missing something here? Or is there another singing Terri Clark out there who is, like, attractive? I guess m’man Hef was looking for someone to carry on the tradition of weather-beaten sea hags, like the Sable shoot, in his mag.

I can’t help but laugh at all the internet fanboy praise that Sable’s latest nude spread has stirred up. Kids”¦the reason she looks “wicked hot” is because her photos are touched up more than a minor in Michael’s bed. It’s all soft lighting and airbrushing”¦unless some of y’all happen to know any 52-year-old women with no physical imperfections. If so, send ’em to Dr. Cameron for their nightly suppository.

Frankly, I Have Reservations With Their Criticism

CBS just can’t seem to buy a break these days. Hot on the heels of the network’s firestorm of controversy caused by the Janet/Justin Affair, Andre 3000 of Outkast pissed a few more people off during the Grammy Awards telecast. During his performance of Hey Ya, Andre sported a mess of neon green traditional Native American garb. His back up dancers wore the same shade as buckskin dresses and leggings. The set was finished off with a fake tipi that sputtered faux smoke signals.

Now, Native American groups across the country have called for a boycott of the network on the grounds that the whole thing was offensive to their delicate sensibilities. Personally, I think they’re all still pissed that the brief Native American renaissance of the late ’70s and early ’80s didn’t stick. It all began with that anti-pollution commercial with the white guy playing the Indian with the teardrop.

From there, it seemed that every sitcom of the day, from All in the Family to Sanford & Son had to have one episode where Charlie Running Bear sprinkled some liberal guilt on us all before returning to the tax-free shelter of his tribe’s reservation. The whole thing peaked with the proliferation of Native Americans in cartoon form. From Apache Chief of Superfriends fame to Spirit of G.I. Joe, they all taught us two things: Indians have amazing tracking skills and really bad wardrobes.

DUIana Ross

Diana Ross was sentenced to 48 hours in jail for a 2002 arrest and subsequent conviction on a DUI charge. Her blood alcohol content was reportedly measured at 0.20, which is just a hair over Arizona’s legal limit of 0.08. In her defense, I always assumed the arresting officers had mistakenly picked up the scent of the embalming fluid that populates about 95% of Miss Ross’ innards these days. Fortunately, her case was assigned to a very compassionate judge who even offered the fallen diva some sage words of wisdom, before he sent her away:

“When it comes to prison, the trick is to kick someone’s ass the first day or become someone’s bitch.

Just As Long As Joel Schumacher Ain’t Involved”¦

Like the rest of America, I hadn’t paid too much attention to the WB network after the cancellation of The Parent Hood. It’s been nearly five years, and I think the wounds have healed. This fall, the WB is returning to its roots and reviving one of their original franchises. The Batman marks the return of an animated Dark Knight in his own show. The Edge has been tapped to create the show’s new theme song for both the opening and closing credits.

I’m tellin’ ya”¦with the star powered stank that a bit of U2 brings to the table”¦there’s still a sliver of hope that I can finally purge the memory of 1997’s Batman & Robin movie from my cerebral cortex. Fortunately, the actors who brought this feculent dreck to my screen got what they deserved. Hell, it killed Chris O’Donnell’s career”¦it killed Alicia Silverstone’s career”¦it almost killed Arnold Schwartzenegger”¦and it killed Jeep Swenson. Hmm, I really should’ve stopped at the first two.

14 Minutes and 55 Seconds”¦56″¦57″¦58″¦

Justin Timberlake has decided to lace up his acting boots. Next month, he begins shooting Edison up in Vancouver. The film stars Morgan Freeman, Kevin Spacey and (sigh) LL Cool J and a plot that centers around a young journalist (Timberlake) who uncovers corruption on the police force. I think we all know the drill: Timberlake is the cocky, can’t be tamed writer who’s on the fast track to newspaper stardom (translation: no longer sharing a cubicle with the Xerox machine).

An anonymous tip (from a source who will later turn up dead) leads him to the dirty cops. The bad guys get the upper hand through Act Two, maybe even killing Justin’s father-figure mentor/editor (Freeman) somewhere along the way. It all wraps up with Timberlake kicking everyone’s ass (even the Black guys) and a generic LL Cool J song (from the eventual soundtrack) blaring over the closing credits. Rinse”¦repeat.

You Can Find Me In Tha Cell

Last Sunday night at The Grammy Awards, 50 Cent ended the night on a decidedly sour note as he failed win in any of the five categories he was nominated for. It appears that the Award Show Voters weren’t the only ones who had it in for the former lead singer of Alvin & The Chipmunks. Earlier this month, Michael Carreras of Miami was found guilty of bumping 50’s In Da Club too loudly as he drove down a Miami street at 5:00 AM.

Judge Jeffrey Swartz gave Carreras the option of paying a $500 fine or spending two hours listening to Verdi’s La Traviata. Carreras, needless to say, opted for the 120 minutes of operatic torture. I have to confess”¦my knowledge of opera only goes as far as Enrico Pallazzo. I was actually at the 1988 game between the Angels and the Mariners where he sung a stirring rendition of our National Anthem and”¦wait a minute”¦that’s not Enrico Pallazzo”¦that’s Frank Drebin!

Sometimes The News Just Writes Itself

During the past 12 months, I’ve taken several mean-spirited and insensitive jabs at our fans down in the Bayou. Well, New Orleans”¦it’s time for y’all to represent, as I’m proud to turn over this news item to your city’s favorite son”¦Young Turk. You might have heard that Turk (a/k/a Tab Virgil, Jr.) has been charged with shooting a pair of cops during a drug raid last week. In an exclusive interview with a Memphis news station, Turk refutes the charges”¦I think:

“I’m against that. I’ve never shot a police. I’ve never owned a gun, never seen a gun.”

Amazingly, Turk survived all four simultaneous bolts of lightning from those lies and kept right on talking:

“Only thing I hear was boom and bam and gun shots, I hear boom, boom, I get into the closet, I’m scared praying. I hear boom you know I don’t hear any police say knock knock.”

Lord Jesus, where to begin? He heard four booms, a bam, some gunshots”¦but no knock knock. Is that his defense”¦? The police didn’t say knock knock? Hell, if anything, that’s probably a good thing, as it happens to be one of my biggest pet peeves. Y’know”¦when your front door is open and someone thinks it’s cute to poke their head in and say “knock knock!” Maybe women can get away with that one, but not guys. It’s like the “Hey, You!” greeting”¦strictly a chick thang”¦when guys use it, it’s just gay (and I don’t mean festive).

Bootleg Anniversary Contest!

I’ll admit it”¦I was genuinely worried. This contest ran for nearly a month and while there were many enthusiastic submissions, there just wasn’t anything that was an obvious slam-dunk, hand-over-the-prize kind of entry. That is until I received the following email about three hours before the contest closed:

I need that gift card. I was at Best Buy today and I saw the season 1 DVD for What’s Happening is finally out. I need to find out if there’s a deleted scene where Rerun finally manages to catch up to the pick-up truck in the opening credits.

Thanks to all who entered, but E.J. Cordóva from my old stomping grounds of Lakewood, California gets the gift card.

The Baby Bootleg (Nick’a Please)
conceptualized by Nick Salemi, inspired by Aaron Cameron

In honor of esteemed Bootleg author Aaron Cameron’s son being born and the one-year anniversary of the column, Nick’a Please will be written in AJC style. A Bootleg within the Bootleg.

Hopefully His Father Won’t Call A Timeout

Jalen Cameron was born earlier this week, presumably named after former Michigan Fab 5 star Jalen Rose. I think I speak for everyone when I say that I hope when he grows up, he is recruited with 4 other freshman players to form the Fab 5 – 2022, accepts money and gifts and college, hangs out in crackhouses but still has a decent NBA career.

That’s Why You Need A Memory Card

Much has been made of Tom Brady’s last minute heroics, but not so much as to what put him in the position to win the game, Carolina kicker’s John Kasay’s horrendous kick out of bounds. Apparently Kasay was playing on All-Madden level but thought he had the
options set on all-pro. As a result he wasn’t prepared and let the kick meter go way left because he didn’t save his settings the last time he played. And just like the computer, the Patriots took the momentum and won it.

Will He Still Be At the Skills Competition?

As reported earlier N SYNC’s JC Chasez (worst name ever) was bounced from performing at the Pro-Bowl Halftime show because the antics of his former “bandmate” Justin Timberlake at the Super Bowl has made the NFL brass wary of anymore of those controversial former boy-band members making a scene.

Chasez sez that the NFL has tried to portray his “music” as sexually indecent. How about the fact that it’s just plain old musically indecent. Strangely, the NFL doesn’t seem worried about alienating all those dual NFL Pro-Bowl / JC Chasez fans who will have to settle for just the game now.

In light of the NFL passing on his A-list status at their event, Chasez was quoted as saying the following…”That’s not the America I love. Nor is this the NFL I love. I’ll sing the National Anthem anytime, anywhere, but not for this NFL.”

Seriously people, he’ll sing anywhere including birthdays, proms, weddings, and graduations”¦it’s clear he needs money! I have a better idea. How about using him as a tacking dummy for a competition between Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis and Cowboys safety Roy Williams to see who can break the most bones in his body.

Life With Mr. Bootleg As Your Father

So you’re thinkin’ about being born?

I know I already re-hashed this once but now that the kid is born, shouldn’t he know the plan his father has in store for him, which he spoke of in one of his more famous Bootlegs last year…

“If it’s a boy, he’ll grow to be all of 5’5″ (thanks to my 4’8″ wife) with a head shaped like E.T.’s (thanks to me). He’ll go dateless until I buy him his first hooker at 21 and live at home until his eventual arrest for voyeurism”¦a victimless crime”

Keep this kid away from camcorders.

I’m a father now. Help me duck my responsibility. Get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM: ajcameron13

General Haberdashery

The Music Zone welcomed two new writers to our little Manson Family of daily news guys. Well, Double M isn’t exactly “new””¦he’s one of the many mouth-breathers over in the petri dish of gnomes and Nutes known as the wrestling zone. He’s a great writer, though and a pretty good guy, so I’m sure y’all will enjoy the hell out of him. Until the curse of the Monday slot turns him into Son of Murphy.

Our new Sunday newsslinger is Canadian T. He’s been handed a formal invitation to join our weekend news supergroup, along with me and Fernandez. Jeff has proposed that we euthanize the name 3 Tha Hard Way and play off the facts that he’s Mexican, I’m Black and Canadian T is”¦well, a Canuck. We’re now The Minority Report and the third slot is open for you, Trevor. At least until Warren Woo takes your job.

Fernandez remains the Juan Valdez to my Uncle Ben. He has even more nudity this week as Janet’s right breast is compared to Dana Suzanne’s left one. Jeff love da kids.

Mathan has the last word on Janet/Justin, Eminem/Benzino and The Grammys. He also has you covered this Valentine’s Day over at 411 Black.

Ask Joe writes his most controversial Q&A column to date. Between his comments that “millions of fans” would love AC/DC as halftime entertainment and owning up to having two favorite baseball teams”¦eh, he’s a good guy, so I can’t bash him for this”¦but, I’m watching you mister.

Adam Wallis begins his comprehensive look back at The History of The Grammys.

Joe Reid is fast becoming my favorite non-music entity on this site. (Sorry, Mike Batesmen from Inside Pulse Figures) Do yourself a favor and check out his list of the 20 Most Anticipated Films of 2004. Then, email him and ask why he omitted Halle Berry’s Catwoman and The Wayans Bros.’ White Chicks.

Junk Mail

Thanks again for loading up the mailbag with well wishes for Mrs. Bootleg. There’s been enough sentiment this week, so I’ll summarize the love with a couple of my favorites. Longtime Friend of the Bootleg, Carlos C. is first up:

I’m definitely going to pray for you and your wife this weekend. Aside from her health and the health of the baby, I just don’t know what we would do if she wasn’t around for you to make fun of anymore. Besides, I can’t say I like “Serious” Aaron all that much. You were right: (last week’s column intro) was awkward. It was a lot like when Stuart Scott has to tell us about some athlete dying in his prime. You know it’s not his natural style and I half expect him to say “booyah” after he’s told us “the deceased is survived by his eight kids and assorted baby mamas”.

Sorry, Carlos, but I gotta say I enjoyed this letter just a little bit more:

I’m sorry about your wife but I know she’s gona be ok. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you if you guys are looking for someone to take over one of the empty music news articles. I can do either Sudnay or Monday news and I know and listen to just about everything. Can I send a sample to you or something? If you like it I can start whenever you want. – David R. Phillips

“Sudnay”? Unfortunately, it looks like our music news schedule is back at full capacity. However, we’ve had a void over in the Wrestling Zone on Fridays for months now. Send Widro an email and (using these exact words) tell him your work would be better than the nothingness that’s currently there. Oh, and tell him Biscuiti sent you. Matt, Chris, Buttermilk”¦it doesn’t matter which.

A pair of thoughts on my Super Bowl Diary from last week’s Goodness:

Holy Sh*t”¦that Super Bowl Diary was the funniest thing I’ve read on this site in a long time. You remind me a lot of Bill Simmons over at Page 2 on the espn site and I’ll keep checking for your shit whenever you put it out.

Thanks. Glad you were diggin’ it”¦everyone pretty much said the same thing, so there’s no need to print any dissenting opinions”¦.

Super Bowl Diary? Why don’t you give Scott Keith his gimmick back and stick to what you do best, writing for the 10 or 11 people who read your unfunny and unoriginal comedy that pretends to be news.

Phenomenal”¦I’ve been shit on by a fan of Scott Keith. Well, I’m willing to turn the other cheek and love my enemy. So, when you’re lurking around Inside Pulse mere minutes after the next WWE pay-per-view ends just to see how many stars Lord Scooter gave the Mark Henry vs. A-Train match”¦The Bootleg will be here for you.

When you’re hitting “refresh” every five minutes to upload the latest information in Keith’s blog because your life isn’t complete until you know what new DVD cartoon he bought or all things Benoit”¦The Bootleg will be here for you.

Note to the Inside Pulse Staff Forum: This is N OT meant as a shot to fellow Inside Pulse writer Scott Keith. I am only targeting his fanbase of lemmings whom we rely on for a great deal of our traffic here at Inside Pulse. That is all.

Life With Mrs. Baby Bootleg

Well, all good things must come to an end, I suppose. My beautiful wife has been the butt of my good-natured (yet, inadmissible as verbal & emotional) abuse for the last few months and it’s high time to find a new target for my cruelty.

Last week, when the wife was at her lowest point, I asked her if she wanted me to quit with the column comedy at her expense. Her response:

“No”¦it’s what you do.”

So, with that in mind”¦we’ll shift the primary focus to Baby Bootleg, with the occasional detour south towards my wife’s fast developing “kankles””¦.north towards the amber waves of grains growing under her unshaven armpits”¦.or to the midwest, where her carved up belly looks like a plump little road map.

No bashing this week, though. It’s all part of that nefarious bargain I made with God when He got the wife and the kid through this whole ordeal OK. As a result, I’m compelled to do his bidding”¦for now.

To all my readers: Thanks for reading each and every week. I’m looking forward to another year of Goodness with all y’all! Get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM: ajcameron13