That’s Cameron. Girls go crazy over him. He’s cute, non-threatening and his smile brought a puppy back to life.
-Lisa Simpson, from A Star is Torn
Welcome back to The Bootleg. Somehow…someway…I survived Mrs. Bootleg’s second Mother’s Day. Last year, it was a bombardment of Black women as my mother, my mother-in-law, two of the wife’s aunts and the wife’s best friend swooped into San Diego solely to celebrate the Caesarian section that turned Mrs. Bootleg into “Jalen’s Mom”.
This year, Mother’s Day weekend began without the wife. In fact, it began without any women. Now, I know that doesn’t exactly differentiate me from the rest of the Inside Pulse staff, so let me explain.
Mrs. Bootleg had to work on Saturday. Up front, she told me that she’d have to be in at 9:00 AM, but she’d be done around 3:00 PM. Now, we’ve been together for almost…ugh, ten years…and if you were to reverse the “AM” and “PM”, you’d have the same cock n’ bull line that I’ve frequently fed her before a night of drunken debauchery freeway traffic/empty gas tank/ D.W.B. kept me out until sunrise.
I should’ve seen this coming.
My Saturday morning shower was interrupted when the wife stepped into the steam to tell me that her team needed to be in an hour earlier than originally planned. And, why is it when a woman has to be someplace that doesn’t involve her man…she can be ready in 10 minutes? As if the host at Applebee’s cares whether or not my wife’s shoes match her bag.
That left me with Baby Bootleg. Now, it’s certainly not the first time that the Cameron Men have been left to fend for ourselves. But, the funny thing is, after 15 months of fatherhood…I still find myself fumbling through certain first time paternal/maternal moments.
For example…have you ever tried to put shoes on the feet of an infant? Well, apparently, they’re now putting laces where, up until now, there’s only been Velcro. On the grand scale of life’s greatest challenges, this ranks somewhere between catching the greased up deaf guy at the employee picnic and catching Marlee Matlin…employed.
But, we managed through the morning and all was well until the afternoon.
Kid Cameron woke up from an unsatisfying slumber in a sour-ass mood. Now, my parenting skills are admittedly limited, but if there’s one thing that always makes my son’s smile…it’s an old-fashioned ride on my shoulders.
Now, I’m six feet tall and with Jalen sitting up there, it probably adds another foot and a half to my height. So, what is that…about 7 ½ feet or 90 inches? Oh, and guess what I learned last Saturday. It seems that the length from the garage floor to the top of the open garage door is about 7 ¼ feet or 87 inches.
And, truth be told…Jalen learned it before me.
I knew it was going to be one of those crying jags when it began with the six-second open-mouth silent sob. From there, he was all about breaking the baby decibel meter and no amount of my “there theres” or “if anyone asks, you fell” words of encouragement were gonna calm him down.
Fortunately, concussions work almost as well as a shot of Ny-Quil for a fussy baby. And, when you combine the two…Anyways, the wife didn’t get home until 10:00 PM that night…nearly seven hours later than she said she’d be returning. The child and I survived, while the wife was none the wiser about our little garage door incident…even peeking in on Jalen before she went to bed…
“Gasp! Is that a bruise on Jalen’s forehead?!”
The Goodness thinks it’s just raspberry jam!
Ain’t No Jail Time…
After his 2003 “retirement” from the rap game, DMX has found his way into a phalanx of felonious fun and frivolity. He’s kept the streak alive in 2005 with word that he failed to appear in court at a paternity hearing, earlier this month. DNA tests have confirmed, with a 99.9% likelihood, that the 3-year-old girl at the center of this short-term union of egg n’ sperm is, in fact, DMX’s daughter.
Lawyers for the baby’s toddler’s momma urged the presiding judge to issue a bench warrant for DMX’s arrest. However, the judge opted to reschedule the hearing for June 9, with a warning that the rapper had better be there or else…(sources indicate that here, the judge proceeded to shake his fist towards the courtroom in a cartoonishly threatening manner).
And, speaking of “cartoonishly threatening”, it’s good to see DMX’s former on-screen Kung-Fu second fiddle getting more and more mature movie opportunities. Oh, come on…you’ve seen the trailers for Jet Li in Unleashed!
It’s the story of a shackled and subservient slave who’s forced to serve his master, until he breaks free from the bondage of Bob Hoskins and commences with the kicking of cracka ass.
Think of it as a 21st century Huckleberry Finn with an empowered and militant, ummm…”N-Word” Jim. Lousy Bill Cosby.
Joe Reid Was Dozens of Miles Away
Don’t look now, faithful readers, but there’s been a Lloyd Banks sighting. Crowned 2004’s “Next Big Thang”, his title has since been amended to include “before The Game” at the end. Anyways, last month, Lloyd performed at…wait a minute, let’s make sure I get this right…Hartwick College?!
Well, then…dateline: Oneonta, New York…two members of Banks’ posse (“entourage” if he were white) have been accused of sexual assault against a 17-year-old girl. The mother of the alleged victim filed the report with town’s on-duty cop for the day. Apparently unimpressed with Barney Fife’s investigative gumption, the girl’s mother has taken it upon herself to bring the case to the public.
Earlier this month, she organized Hartwick students in a peaceful protest while providing participants with T-shirts that read “She Said No!” on the front and the date of the alleged incident (4-21-05) on the back. Wow. And, I imagine that was quite the conversation between the mother and screen printer at the mall kiosk:
Shirt Guy: Umm…do mind if I ask what occasion these shirts are for?
Victim’s Mom: Oh, my daughter was raped. And, if there’s room, can you have them say “Best Vacation Ever”?
And, in what has to be the quote of the year, here’s what the mother told the local media:
“She thought she was going backstage to meet the band.”
Unbelieveable…although as a means of sexually deceiving the naïve, that line probably ranks third behind “I think we’re out of gas” and “C’mon, it’s chock full of protein.”
I Hated Them Years Ago…Years Ago, I Tells Ya!
Nobody believes me now, but mark my words…by this time next year, y’all will be sick of Outkast. Or, at least sick of the weird one that dresses funny…who’s not very attractive. Y’know, the one with the mole. That would be Andre 3000 and he’s taking his game to Trick Daddy’s demographic…the kids.
Andre is close to accepting a role in The Hit, a movie about a 10-year-old boy and his single father who find out they live next door to Cupid. Andre explains his love for the little bastards, thusly:
“I’ve noticed that kids, they’re looking up to Outkast. So kid’s movies and cartoons are getting smarter because it seems like kids are cooler.”
And, of course, nothing says “cerebral cinema” better than a film about a fictional cherub with a bow and arrow who shoots people in the heart, but instead of dying, they fall in love. I eagerly await the copycat activities of the Kentucky kids who take Daddy’s deer-hunting crossbow to class…
Sorry, Andre, but this movie looks tired and predictable. “Cupid” will “shoot” Julia Roberts and you know she’s going to wind up marrying Richard Gere. Bet you thought she was going to wind up with that rich snob, ably played by Bill Paxton. (“That’s Bill Pullman, you fool!“)
That Band is Banned
In a story that Inside Pulse’s own Windy City denizen, Jeff Fernandez would have surely covered if he cared enough about you good people to show up last Saturday, it seems that Chicago-area high schools are making their own music news.
With prom season upon us, the schools are banning such easy-listening acts as 50 Cent and the Ying Yang Twins from dances and school functions. In fact, several local principals have banded together, disregarding weeks of rivalries based on regional redistricting, to take a stand against what they call “the explicit sexual references and glorification of moral depravity in modern music”.
And, with that criteria as the measuring stick, it won’t be long before all the kids will be left with is an awkward slow dance to Journey’s Open Arms. Ah, but you can read about that real-life retro experience next Tuesday in IP Music, I’m sure. Back here in 2005, I’ve got a newsflash for the school officials concerned over sex in music.
I think it’s safe to say that kids at the prom don’t need any prompting to pull down their panties from 50 Cent, for God’s sake. These days, for most girls, the ship of celibacy sailed away with their respective discoveries of The Red Sea.
Sometimes The News Just Writes Itself
Busta Rhymes has teamed up with Stevie Wonder for a project that can only be described as…ah, Christ, I have no words for this. It seems that Stevie is attempting to create the first ever music video for the visually impaired. It’ll be for his upcoming single called So What the Fuss and, via an alternate audio channel, Busta will narrate the MTV proceedings…for those who can’t see.
The press release even offered up a sampling of some of the things Busta will tell us are happening, including “Stevie’s playing a pearl-white drum set” and “…a white girl gets her hair braided by her Black friend”. I am not making this up.
OK…I’m thinking that I’m going to have to tread lightly here. Now, while this is very sensitive subject matter, it might surprise you to know that I have some indirect experience in this arena. And, take it from me…watch out for white girls who get their hair braided.
Now, you’ll find that Black women of all backgrounds can get braids…rich and poor, young and old, whatever. When the white girl is getting braids (and by “her Black friend”, no less) you can bet this b*tch will stab you for a wet sack of Wendy’s. I’m talking about those big-boned and blaccented broads that we get from white America in exchange for you guys staking claim to the best years of Mariah Carey’s career.
Oh yeah…that’s fair. Speaking of white folk…nicely done with Dave Chappelle. Now, he’s Rick James insane, bitch.
Nick’a Please
conceptualized by Nick Salemi
Just a few more weeks until Nick returns from South Africa and fortunately the facilities there feature e-mail access for all. So, enjoy these snippets from the past week of electronic correspondence. It’s a segment we could only call:
Nick Salemi On…
…the New York Yankees
You have to really enjoy Tino’s HR barrage while Giambi ponders calling Michael Jordan to ask how multi-millionaires handle the minor leagues.
…Rickey Henderson’s New Team
I assume you now have season tickets to the Surf Dawgs. Not sure where it would fall in the comic book sequel. Chapters 20-49, different teams Rickey’s been on.
…Opening Day II: Rickey’s “Surf Dawgs” vs. The Long Beach Armada
Might I say those are the two best names for minor league teams EVER.
Does the LBC Armada have “Transformers Armada” night where the first 500 kids get a commemorative Optimus Prime figure? How many tickets would ajc buy to go in and out of the stadium with Jalen (the “Kid”) to get multiple action figures?
I’m thinking 5.
…NBA MVP, Steve Nash
You think he’s playing “Kelly” in the Bad News Bears remake?
General Haberdashery…Slim Pickings Edition
We’ve had two weeks of my ugly mug running nonstop on the Music Main Page, people. Not that I mind, but the “kicking off your weekend” reference on Wednesday…? Time to update, Mr. Music Editor.
Perhaps with one of these 2003 & 2004 Writer of the Year runners-up:
Jeff Fernandez was a no-show at last Saturday’s house show. I’ve got even money that it involved his crazy work schedule, his ineffective immune system or a bacon, egg n’ cheese McGriddle. And, who doesn’t like a processed “slice” of American on their flapjacks?
Crazy Erhardt is also M.I.A. from M.U.S.I.C. It appears that the systematic elimination of minorities from IP’s staff is well under way. Maybe Mathan wasn’t so crazy after…nah, he probably was.
Open Mike Eagle is in his second week of absentia. That’s two Black guys and our resident Hispanic. Well, Warren Woo did try to warn us. I guess Woo knew…I guess Woo knew.
Finally, for those us who did show up…
Gloomchen celebrates her birthday by shilling her wish list. Y’all had better act now before the IP Sports Staff buys up everything in the hopes that she’ll give ’em all a collective shout out in her next column. And, if you do miss out, I’m sure she’s got a PayPal account set up. Hey, she talks about Bon Jovi this week! Did you know Bon Jovi was the musical guest during Deion Sanders’ SNL episode in 1995? I know stuff.
Ssquared remains unemployed, but will soon be leaving for the Bahamas. Man, I have got to get on Government Assistance. Apparently, they’re offering more than free cheese and abject shame. He’s also got missionary shots of Tom and Katie, a brush with a WWE superstar cruiserweight and he bashes the Rolling Stones. As well he should.
J.A.M. = the fourth in the line of short-lived novelty writing nicknames for a trio of Inside Pulse and 411 writers.
J is for Movie Joe Reid. Jesus…he didn’t show up for work this week, either. Ah, but he’s got an excuse…and you can find it by following his link. No lie…if you can make it thru his 11-hour Amtrak ordeal without laughing loudly at least once…he’ll give you a dollar. Oh, and find out what happens when a 411 Movies Zone writers shares a booth in the bar car with an Inside Pulse Movies Zone writer. (I didn’t read that far, but I assume it’s “hilarity”.)
A is for me.
M is for TV Mathan. He debates cartoon roommates and professes his heterosexual man-like for Jack Bauer. It’s quite the opposite for another TV Jack, though. And, is there really a character on Deadwood with the name of Mrs. Garrett? I mean is Charlotte Rae still alive?
Junk Mail
So, I work in the Defense Contractor industry…and once in a long while I’ll get a piece of mail from someone whose email address indicates that they work for a company in the same field. That can be awkward:
Oh wonderful, not only am I using company time and resources to write emails to a guy who works for a website that I spend half of my work day reading; but now that guy, when he’s not writing web columns, also happens to work for one (of our) biggest competitors. I am a goddamn walking ethics video…Name Withheld
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And, though this gig may have its occasional uncomfortable moment…I know that I can count of my readers to lift me up:
You are NOT funny. Newsflash: most of your readers weren’t born in the ’70s and we don’t get your 100-year-old references. Do you even pretend to talk about music? Evan B.
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Well, my longtime readers know that music is the creamy middle of this nougaty column. And, when it gets right down to it…it still says “music” in title of this here Bootleg:
You and Nick should do another MFWNTAK column. That was the absolute best thing either one of you have done on IP…P.S.
Umm…the “M” stands for…”music”. Yeah.
Does this week’s column seem shorter to you? Yeah, me too. Meanwhile, get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM: ajcameron13
