Erykah, you za badd ass.....(Shut yo' Mouf)

Seeing Erykah Badu naked would have been the only way I could have made my evening with her that much more pleasurable. She is definately a class act.
The night started with The Roots coming out on time...and although I am not one of their biggest fans, I have a lot more admiration for them after seeing them perform live. They say that they are one of the most hardest working bands to date, playing like 271 days out of the year. From observing them, they have their craft down to a science. Qwestlove played his drums ferociously as Black Thought ran down his lyrics like a seasoned veteran. Professionally stepping to the side from time to time to allow his other bandmates the opportunity to "get their shine on", and shine they did. My favorite Roots song is "You got me", which features Erykah Badu. I was quite surprised when she didn't join them to perform it, instead they had their guitarist(seen in hyperlink) sing the hook while playing in a Hindrix style fashion. The Roots did a excellent job with filling in the gaps by playing various hits by other artists, I thought that to be ingenious way to open up...and give me monies worth. As they left the stage, Black Thought announced, "The show is only getting started!"
Well, he was almost right, because Erykah was atleast 45-60 minutes late, the only downside to the evening. Then finally the curtains opened. The stage was poorly lit, allowing members of her band to make their entrances. The crowd went wild when a woman appeared from out the shadows, but then another entered, followed by another and then the last. These were her back up singers, they were decked out in some classic 70's attire. Tight short dresses, head bands pulling back their afro's in puffs, knee high boots and bodies that jus' refused to quit. From the jump I knew this was going to be a helluva show. After about 5 minutes of anticipation and the back ups singers moaning to the first track on her new album, that soul systa finally appeared sporting a red plaid suit and and a afro that was bigger than the continent of Africa and 1/3 of the Middle East. The crowd went BANANAS!
Miss Badu sang the first few tracks off her latest LP "New Amerykah" and boogied down with her back up singers at the same time, with her funky self. She nor the back up singers missed a step. With the economy being very hard up right now I can see why some people chose not to purchase tickets, but at this point I was satisfied with my choice of forking over the $100.00 to see my baby in action and would do it again at the drop of a dime. Because I absolutely love her work, I was unable to hear all of my favorites, but I heard a majority of them. Since she started late, I was running out of time to see the whole show and still make it back home on public transportation. I had a nice fill, but I was and I am quite sure a the rest of the audience was waiting to hear "Bag Lady". I left my seat to inquire about the last BART train home. I was informed that it closed at 12 p.m. o'clock. It was 11:15 and still no Bag Lady. I decided I would give her till 11:30 then I would have to split. Finally my song came on, a proper end to a wonderful night of well dressed women and mind-blowing music. The only other slight annoyance of the evening was the fact that although the Paramount had seats, people couldn't help but stand and dance to the music. My favorite episode of this was during intermission when the d.j. played E.U.'s "Doin the Butt", need I say more?

I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my SHIT!!!

Sometimes, I struggle with being a artist. When it comes to art, one must be able to discern when to give of themselves, honestly and wholeheartedly, as well as know when not to do either. For me its like letting the monsta inside of me loose upon the world. Speaking my truth, whether Tom, Dick or Sherry likes it, cause it's my truth. I spoke once before about my affinity for the good brotha Tupac Shakur, because he was a strong black man, who at one moment could have an uncontrollable passion for his fellow brethren and with a swift shake of a machete he could sing a of song of sin, croonin' his thug passion to the females inquiring, "How do you want it...?
So for me, this has always been my dilemma, do I give it to 'em raw or should I put some cut on it. I step back and say to myself, I want to give my reader some emotion, I want my reader to feel me where I am comin' from, if they not feelin' nothing good nor bad...I am not doing my job to bring the conviction which I am striving as a artist/poet for. In this process I must remain true to myself, first. Then I think about my audience...and I ask in a soft suddle voice, "How do you want it...?"

Theme music- Fleetwood Mac "Dreams"

I am a Certified Computer Technician....BABY!!!!!

I guess they thought I was servin' spam instead of spaghetti!!! I told 'em, it may have taken me a extra 5 months to get the job done, but I did it. So yes, you can say that Lannie Ross, 1 year later from being released from San Quentin State Prison, after doing 8 years, stepped out from that cage, enrolled in a computer tech school and got certified. Something can't nobody take away from you is a education...so they say. Hang that on yo' wall, you haters!

Now I went in to take my test, with a friend of mine who had started the class in S. F. with me. He was there early and started his exam. I came in about 10 minutes after. I left about 15 minutes before he finished. Nothing unusual, throughout our course I have always finished before him, sometimes placing higher, sometimes placing lower. Today I smashed and got a 880 and walked out, way before he finished. (Thats 880 out of a 900, the questions were weighted so you figure I missed 1-2 questions.) Well 15 minutes later his results came, he got a 885. I wasn't mad...I was happy. I wanted to get a higher score but I really wasn't tripping, the thing of it is although he passed, got certified and all that, his demeanor seemed to be on a haterist mode. Why, because I came with a fat ass diamond in my ear and I was dressed up...but I usually am if I am not at work. It's funny how some cats can pump each other up and others can just do the opposite. Yeah I looked good, but he scored higher, has all the opportunity to get a good job, find a good woman and have some kids someday, just like me, but no....he wants to focus on the here and now. I guess it's like my big brah Carl always tells me, sometimes I am just too real, and you know what they did to Malcolm and Martin....for being too real!

So I am going to continue to work at becoming humble. If not, my "Friends" are gonna KILL me.

Happy Mama's Day

Practice makes perfect

I visited a friend this weekend and ended up helping her and her family paint their kitchen. I like visiting and find it a good escape from my normal life out in the city. Due to the fact that most of their fathers' are basically absent, I look forward in spending quality time with them. Not as a father figure, but more as a positive male role model. It is a shame how hard it is on single women now a days. Can't get a man to help change a light bulb let alone...buy a carton of milk. The whole family structure has deteriorated so low that it is much needed breath of fresh air when a man steps in, even if it is for only a weekend. I am not sure on how the impact of my actions truly effect her or her family, but all I can try to do is my best, to be a stand up brotha...can you dig it?

OOPS UPSIDE YA HEAD.....

I try to mind my own bidness, but when I seen that girl get smacked up side her head, I had to get my voyeurism on. Me and my co-worker Carl were minding our own business, painting some old rusted doors in the "Outta Control" projects. Me being as observant as I am, I began to notice a group of girls congregating by a car. Nothing out of the normal, so me and Carl continued to paint and shoot the breeze. Then all of a sudden I began to feel that same tension I use to get on the yard when something was about to go down. The female wolfpack was creeping towards the neighborhood hang out. I watched intently. Voices began to rise like the tide at Stinson Beach. Hands started to stray from their sides, eyebrows arched, top lips scratched the corner of noses, oh it was getting ready to go down. I knew one of the ladies from back in the days "Rosy". She was one of my potnahs girlfriend. But what was she doing out here, with these youngstas actin' hyphy for? Wouldn't you know it, when the sixteen year old girl turned to the right, Rosy hit her hard with a right. The police began to come down Larch alleyway, people scattered, the sixteen year old girl began to cry, pout, see she is on the Queen Latifah side, (kinda chunky for a sixteen year old) and usually she is the one who does the beating up, I guess today she got a taste of her own medicine...but from a 40 year old.

As me and Carl continued painting I received a call from John my boss, said he needed me to help Clay with moving some furniture. First of all, Clay is a lazy bum. He tries to fake the role of being a good guy, but I know better. He aint all that bad, but he aint all that good either. But now who is...anyway we are taking a table into the commu nity room and then there is a boom-boom!
I barely hear it and it doesn't sound too out of the ordinary, maybe its some construction going on down the street. Then I turn around and see one of the residents running with her hands in the air, "They shootin', they shootin'!"
Clay isn't moving, I look to him as he stands in the doorway, I inquire as to why he aint movin' his fat ass in the community room. He replies that, "You got your table leg caught on that chair and I can't move." I said, "If you don't move your fat ass out the way." I push the leg and basically scoot Clay inside. We wait a minute, see if the coast is clear and then I began to head for the office. Good ole Clay does what, heads straight towards the gunfire.
Although all the shooting had stopped, it just showed me the differences in culture that black folks have that other cultures don't. The biggest thing which I wish we could unadapt is the killing one another. Wake up brothaman/systagurl and stop the violence.

SHAKIN' LIKE A EPILEPTIC!!!

I was nervous as hell as I sat at the computer. My hand wasn't metaphorically shaking like a leaf, it was physically "SHAKING LIKE AN EPILEPTIC"! Since I am epileptic, I can say that. But seriously, as I was taking my A+ exam, I didn't know if I was coming or going. Yeah, I knew a majority of the answers, still and all...my hand fumbling with that mouse as i clicked in my answers. Then as it said exit, I clicked and everything disapeered, I hopped up fled to door distraught about what I had just done, I wasn't quite sure if I barely passed or slipped thru the cracks. I called the attendant, (for lack of better words) to rush to my aid. He must have knew something that I didn't because he sort of smirked, hit a key on the keyboard and said relax, its just a survey you need to take next. He didn't seem enthused so I took it as I was on the way home a failure. I sped thru the survey, not answering all of the questions, still too nervous...then I finally reached my destination..."CONGRATULATIONS LANNIE ROSS"! It felt soooo good to finally get that monkey off my back. I wasn't filled with glee but I was more than willing to exhale. So I did, wooooooooooooo!

I went home checked my emails and saw a ticket alert from ticketmaster. It said Ms. Badu's tickets were on sale. I verified it and it was true. I placed a order as quickly as I could. The best seats left were in the M row, right in the middle. For $175 I would have paid for one ticket in row G, now I am four rows back for face value. I am so happy I can see that gurl do her thang, I am not a big Roots fan, but I am sure they will be alright anyway. I also got a aquarium off of freecycle, a organization dedicated to helping recycle whatever you don't need. I have been trying to locate pieces to put together a nice aquarium for a anole I saw at Petco. Now all I need to do is finish paying off my bills, hmmm...funny how that works.