SOUL SESSIONS Vol. 3

GAYE WRITES

If you are lucky enough, one day you will experience your version of love; and honestly, there are few experiences in life that are more precious. Unfortunately, somewhere along that journey you will probably witness some unspeakable heartbreak, which (I assume) is necessary.  Life’s not-so-secret ingredient is finding the balance to endure both ends of the emotional spectrum.  No matter what facet of life you are undergoing, it always helps to have someone to share the voyage. 

Well, on December 15, 1978, apparently Marvin Gaye wanted to get a few emotions off his shirtless chest.  Unfortunately, for his ex, Marvin’s confidants were among many of the 222 million mostly Motown-ers living in America.  If you know anything about the fire signs like Leo, Sagittarius & Marvin’s astrological sign Aries, they are – for better or worse -- relentlessly determined people…, which may sound like a compliment to anyone not named Anna Gordy.

Anna Gordy Gaye is the ex-wife of Motown’s finest solo act and the elder sister of the label’s founder, Berry Gordy -- and if technicalities matter, Marvin Gaye’s “boss.” Technicalities probably mattered to Marvin as much as cameras in an elevator did to Solange Knowles. 

Anna and Marvin wed in June of 1963; and by all of her accounts [and his admissions], their relationship was about as authentic as a Jussie Smollett press conference. 

Two of Motown's Greatest
Stevie & Marvin

Marvin Gaye just might be one of the greatest artists in the history of modern music.  Even with arguably the greatest artist line-up in history, Marvin was the emperor.  His outstanding Rock and Roll Hall of Fame discography spanned nearly 3 decades.  And, his soulful signature songs were the soundtrack of social sobriety for black life in America.  Yet, at the peak of Gaye’s unparalleled success, Anna filed for divorce—sighting Marvin’s extensive drug use, his horrific money management misgivings, and his serial escapades of infidelity—including one with a 17-year-old girl named, Janis Hunter, who Gaye eventually married.., then divorced. 

This rocky romance is all captured on one of the greatest break-up albums in history.  The double LP is called Here, My Dear, which is essentially Marvin’s 73-minute diary of notes about his ex-wife.  

Here, My Dear ⧫ Marvin Gaye ⧫ Tamla-Motown Records ⧫ December 1978

Early tabulations confirmed that this project was the least favorable of his career.  Upon its release the content was greeted by Motown executives like an episode of Cheaters.  One famous publication said Here, My Dear sounded like a cheesy, supermarket tabloid which is contrary to the “sugar pie honey bun” factory Berry Gordy spent decades creating.  

Marvin admitted that some of the songs were actually written during and after the courtroom divorce proceedings.  Anna was soured by the experience and wanted to sue Marvin for $1 million dollars to part ways with the estranged hubby.  Marvin was apparently too pissed to realize that despite his illustrious career, he didn’t have $1M to give her...even if wanted to.

Marvin & Anna share happier hours

The divorce grew painfully public and extremely contentious.  And at one point, the courts ordered Marvin to pay Anna $6,000 per month in child support and alimony.  Gaye’s retort..., (insert technicality), “I’m not obeying any f@#$ court order -- the only thing I will do is take off my hat when I enter the courtroom..., maybe."  The divorce got so messy that Anna eventually had Marvin arrested as he fell far behind on the court-ordered “agreement." Things didn’t change much until Marvin’s lawyer came up with what seemed like a very bizarre notion at the time.  The idea was so preposterous that ONLY an Aries man of Marvin’s eccentric energy and determination would agree to it.  

The "deal” was Marvin would pay Anna $600,000 upfront (half of which would come from the advance from his next LP), paid by Anna’s brother Berry and the rest would come from the royalties of Gaye’s next album.  Due to Gaye’s remarkable success and stellar résumé Anna agreed.  After all, what could possible go wrong with an angry can’t-miss, soul-singing, hit-maker recording an album..., knowing that ALL the proceeds would go to a women that he despises?   Well, get your “Lemonade” ready.  

Legendary artwork created by artist
Michael Bryan

Let’s start with the  LP’s artwork -- the inside cover of the album is an artist drawn Monopoly board.  But, the word Monopoly was replaced with JUDGMENT.  You can almost hear the bell signaling the beginning of the next round. The artwork, which Marvin suggested should have his side of the board burning in flames, instead, featured a black male’s hand, handing a female a vinyl record.  His side of the “Monopoly” board also featured old tapes and a piano.  Pictured on her side of the board were cars, cash and a few houses littered on the most expensive and (statistically speaking) the least likely of places Monopoly players could land…, Boadwalk and Park Place.  Do you know how pissed (or high) a person would have to be to think of this?  And believe it or not, the album cover is probably the most gracious part of Marvin’s fuming strategy for the new album.  

Nowhere is this more evident than on Gaye’s one man therapy session “When Did You Stop Loving Me?” On the song he (rhetorically) tells Anna… "If you ever loved me with all of your heart, you'd never take a million dollars to part."

On another upper cut..., “Is That Enough,” his self-healing takes a meditative turn when Gaye writes…..  "Somebody tell me please, tell me please/Why do I have to pay attorney fees (My baby's) Attorney fees...This is a joke/I need a smoke.”

Marvin enjoying a rare,

back seat moment

The entire LP spins like a lyrical punching bag,and after each song, Marvin’s salty sarcasm spreads like a Lewinski stain. Gaye’s pettiness reached astronomic levels when it was time to play the LP for the Gordys.  Because the LP was recorded in Marvin’s personal studio, no one heard the finished project.  So Marvin decided to rent a room that was designed for conducting focus groups and hid behind a two-way mirror so his Ex’s couldn’t see his face.  But he could watch theirs as they listened in astonishment at the depths of his soulful scorns.   Naturally, Anna hated it and her brother, unlike Marvin, was at a loss for words. As love goes, time passed..., Anna forgave Marvin and even grew to appreciate the creative genius in Gaye’s unspeakable truths.

Gaye’s plan was simple…, record something mediocre, and get the settlement over with and Anna out of his life forever.  Instead, over the years the double LP became an epic masterpiece and arguably one of the most coveted of Gaye's collection. And, one of the best LPs every black household should have.

1 love, 

Ray Lewis

SOUL SESSIONS Vol. 2

I want you to turn your clocks back to May of 1921- the very last month that a predominately Black community witnessed true, self-preservation built on its own merit.  This was such an effervescent time, in a somewhat obscure part of the country; that black people were literally walking halfway across the nation to be a part of a community they truly organized and controlled. This 2-mile treasure was neatly tucked in Tulsa, Oklahoma and was littered with Black-owned and operated banks, hospitals, law firms, newspapers, grocery stores, hardware stores, schools, entertainment venues, transportation and retail stores.  What a beautiful time to be black in America’s Greenwood community. 

This neighborhood was so electric that the residents hardly noticed the fizzling economy outside of the thriving 1,280-acred paradise.  And, as fate would have it, less than a decade later, the Great Depression would cripple the entire country and forever be remembered as Black Thursday.  

Talk about irony. 

Meanwhile, this incredible, booming black town soon found out that their neighboring, white “peers” were riddled with envy.  And, never one to shy away from stealing a culture’s resource, they attempted to impose “some legal measures” to slow down the Greenwood community’s generational aspirations. Impatient and unwilling to await the time it would take to enact such an egregious legal act (the “tweaked” plan would later be known as Apartheid) -- these head-hunting hooligans had a swifter system in mind.  

On May 31st, 1921, in one of the most heinous acts that the US has unleashed on its own citizens — all in an effort to make America Greater again -- a bomb exploded in the heart of the Tulsa, Oklahoma city.  Within hours, thirty-five blocks were ablaze. The entire black community and its rich history was up in smoke -- 1,256 homes and 191 businesses were totally destroyed. 10,000 black people were left homeless — many found dead under the rubble.  The shamelessly violent and purposely hidden deed would forever be referred to as The Black Holocaust.  The heart and soul was literally ripped from a community..., simply because black folks controlled it. 

One of the saddest facts of American history is that this massacre was (and still is) purposely omitted from school textbooks, museums and more noteably from the mainstream storytelling in music.   Therefore, as we reluctantly embark on the remaining 28 days of the hypocritical pageantry dubbed Black History Month, I wanted to share 2 things:

a)  The unveiling of our real history.  And

b) The musical treasures that help us cope with living in a land that masks it.

After all, the foundation of our music speaks directly to and from the soul,and throughout these monthly posts...you will discover the LPs that every black household should have. 

Quite naturally, some of these obscure treasures, are often buried in the formulaic radio spins, neatly concealed from our kids; which is the ambitious goal of the white, generational-privileged bums, whose ancestors blew-up Greenwood.  Power and control have always been the key ingredients to destroying this culture, while hypnotizing black folks to aim for Grammy wins and Roc Nation brunches. I wish we could re-capture the magical, Greenwood spirit again.., and there is still some amazing artists that are choosing consciousness over commerce to preserve it.

Great artists understand our rich hidden history, like the legendary Gap Band – whose name is an acronym – that pays homage to the once pulsating, tri-section of the Tulsa, Oklahoma neighborhood;  Greenwood, Archer and Pine—the most bubbling blocks during the romantic, renaissance days of our Black Wall Street. And, contrary to "popular demand," there are many artists that are still planting the seeds in our black soil --  so this month, I want you to spend some time with a special one..., put your headphones together for the sexy songstress, Somi.

IF THE RAIN COMES FIRST ⧫ObliqSound ⧫ October 2009

Just think, a mere 61 years after the intentional “tsunami” in Tulsa, the Midwest gives birth to a Black-African American hidden treasure.  The coco-complex-ioned, Illinois native, has unleashed 4 really dope studio LPs –and this month’s selection levees her Ugandan and Rwandan heritage in a jazzy, 11- track masterpiece titled:

If The Rain Comes First   

From the start, as the needle pokes the vinyl, the strings and congas of “Hot Blue” makes you feel like you’re a patron in a perhaps familial Greenwood, Archer and Pine coffee spot. 

You can prepare to cap a perfect date, in a moonlit room, basking in the peace and tranquility of this tri-lingual wonder.  And, nowhere is her skill more evident than on “Rising,” where Somi mixes her sultry voice, African drum beat and jazzy guitar that whisks you onto the imaginary breezy shores of a tropical villa.  Somi’s, Sade-inspired sound just curls your soul on the remarkable single, “Enganjyani.”  And, I'm telling you, if her rich mezzo-soprano voice isn’t enough, Somi tags legendary South African trumpeter, Hugh Masekela to cuddle the verses around this track – and the title means “the most beloved” or “the memory of whispered prayer” -- depending on who translates.  There is something very special about the Afro-Cuban-Caribbean congas that sets the dazzling mood throughout this marvelous meditation-layered, magnum opus.

Growing up, Somi’s mom told her that “the rain comes, ever unpredictable -- and it could be as much of a blessing as it is a challenge, and the blessings might come before the rain."

Perhaps a memorandum to Kobe Bryant fans.

"If The Rains Comes First" will take you through a rollercoaster of sentiments and not-so-ironically, some of the-dopest toe-tappin’ singles like "Jewel of His Soul," triggers sobering emotions.  On this particular journey, Somi recounts her feelings of a homeless man she met in Paris, whom was once a prominate and very well-respected pillar, and after a series of heartbreaking circumstances he is all but forgotten...reminiscent of the residents of Greenwood.

1 Love, 

Ray Lewis

SOUL SESSIONS Vol. 1

Donnie ⧫ The Colored Section 
Giant Step Records ⧫  December 2002

The year was 2002.  It was an unseasonably brisk and chilly April afternoon in the oxymoronically dubbed Black Mecca of the south. Around 1pm the sun started to peek through the clouds, and I just finished putting the spit-shining wax on my 4-door, champagne-beige, Acura Legend.  Back in the day, “the Ac” really had some wonderful, common street-cred appeal.  If you had one, it wasn’t quite enough to just lean far right while whippin’ through the city in the Jamaican drug lord-approved vehicle of choice---you almost had to have the 12-inch subwoofers raddling the trunk, where the Honda manufacturer fully expected most luxury car owner’s to store luggage.

Whip Appeal

Determined to be punctual, I jumped on interstate 285 to arrive right on time at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport.  With trunk space now-limited, I loaded my childhood friend’s bags in the back seat, as I scooped him up from his 2 hour flight from NYC.   I’ve known my boy over 30 years and the one thing I know for sure is…, he is probably the only music snob that is more critical than me.   Knowing this fact, I had the perfect CD cued up before he landed.  When I saw his light skin grin, curbside, I pulled up and he hopped in the ride.  Just before his right foot could plant firmly on the freshly shampooed floor, I let Donnie’s culturally-commanding contralto voice fill the car cabin…..

THE LESS THINGS CHANGE

The death of democracy is not likely to be an assassination from ambush. It will be a slow extinction from apathy, indifference, and undernourishment.

 Robert M. Hutchins

For far too long, Black life in America has this perpetual feeling of a deepened, dark state of dispiritedness.  We wake-up (if we are lucky), climb in & out of the shower then migrate to the kitchen for a jolt of morning coffee. As the morning ritual continues, we turn on the morning news trying to either; avoid, justify, denounce & sometimes perpetuate, how Black people in America are being portrayed & betrayed by the corporate-owned news networks in their desperate attempt to make America white-er again.  The morning continues with a wink at the weather, a dose of celebrity gossip, before finally squeezing OFF on the flat screen’s remote right before Kayne West says something more stupid than his spousal choice. 

The journey continues by traveling over an hour to a job (if we are lucky) that we often hate or tolerate—just to be surrounded by a group of people [that if given a choice] we’d never hang out with voluntarily.  As noon hits, it’s lunch and lattes lazily, clock watching and  desperately awaiting the evening horn to sound.  Before night taps us on our tired shoulders, we try to hang out with or talk to or text the actual people we really love and want to spend time with…, just before tucking a loved one in bed—only to hit repeat for four more days.

At our society’s worse, we are often seen marching on T.V.’s evening news, wiping the tears of the new nightly social injustice.  At our community’s best, we are often cheering for people that abandoned the community five years before their celebrity & elite drugs ever kicked in.  The marches, despite the emotional optics, won’t (independently) change or fix much…, until we put our collective money where our overworked mouths and feet are.  Good luck explaining that "freedom plan" to the loved one that is on a line holding an iPhone, waiting to buy an iPhone, while Tweeting about the long line, online. Sure the “Likes” and the “Tweets” are considered (for some inane reason) the social norm of modern communication, but what are the people saying and who are they saying it to and, more importantly, who’s responding to timelines of extraneous, unfiltered, inconsequential rhetoric?

And, oh by the way, there is a fucking idiot in the White House with the keys to a nuclear bomb!!  If you are still wondering how the Adjective-in-Chief got in the Oval Office, look no further than the Hollywood’s ‘hood' orator, Spike Lee and his newest release BlacKKKlansman.  I feel like Spike’s body of work is becoming so extraordinarily, effortless, that we are taking his vivid, unapologetic, portrayals of black life for granted.  Much like we did to the work of a Nina Simone or a Mos Def, or a Bill Russell or to a lesser degree Donald Glover. 

BlacKKKlansman is one of Spike Lee's best films and it flowed fluently, like a Black Thought freestyle.  This is one of the rare Lee films that didn’t need Spike’s heavy-handed, socio-political thumb prints, as the plot needs no extra seasoning. The dichotomy-famed John David Washington was simply outstanding as the Black man, infiltrating the hate-based Ku Klux Klan.  

Washington got plenty help from the well-balanced cast, led by co-infiltrator, Adam Driver, whose performance was literally and figuratively toe-to-toe with Washington’s.  The insanely dope music cupped your ears between the ignorant oral tsunamis of hate speeches.  

Stars of BlacKKKlansman: JD Washington & Adam Driver 

Somewhat surprisingly, Spike was able to stay out of the way of this storyline that seemed to be pilfered from an old Chappelle Show skit, but far more real, while somehow managing to be equally funny. We can thank the satirical brilliance of Jordan Peele for those incredible captured moments.  
There are long, pin-dropping moments in the film where you can almost hear your theatre mate’s heartbeat, trying to grasp how humans can behave this way.  The gut-wrenching, hate-spewing, anger seemed so outlandishly-extreme that you’ll say to yourself, there is no real life,  industrialized nation that could ever withstand a group of mentally-deranged, lily-white lunatics until we near the end of the film when Spike Lee poetically spins America’s Oval Office chair around…, then the real tears start to flow... if you are lucky. 

1 love,
Ray Lewis

IT'S ABOUT TIME

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.”

Scott Adams

Apparently, Shawn Carter nudged Jay-Z to wake him outta a typical Big Pimpin’ dream to spark a more culturally relevant Hip Hop project.., his lucky 13^th.  This 10-track project, which could’ve been Tidal-ed “Keeping Up with the Carter’s” is actually pretty good. It’s not great and it’s definitely NOT a classic (Twitter era ears please put down your phones and pick up “Reasonable Doubt,” “ATLiens,” “Like Water for Chocolate” or a “Black on Both Sides” or a book, any book).., but it's definitely not wack either.  

I think 4:44 is above average. It sort of feels like watching Michael Jordan play a game left-handed to raise awareness for Sprint victims that lost their right arm when they purchased the Note 7. Jay-Z has always been wisely witty and exceptionally subliminal.  Back when he was lyrically atop of this Hip Hop game, he would take shots at emcee foes, who would have bled to death dancing to a track he dissed them on.  Today’s penthouse pimp seems more concerned with amending his broken marriage vows and destroying Eric Benét family reunions.

From Finish to Start

The last track “Legacy” is the Jay-Z I have been annoying my nieces and nephews about for years.  Blue Ivy opens the single with a simple question and then the Donny Hathaway sample explodes the inner soul. This sample is DOPE BEYOND WORDS.  

Jay’s blueprinted, storytelling is what makes me such a fan of the genre. From intro, Mr. Bey loosens the cufflinks and shares his recipe for the Carter’s future, while exposing some dark secrets regarding mainstream religion that has handcuffed many black families to this day.   

The project begins with the Shakespearian inspired, double entendre laced track “Kill Jay.” This single opens the barbershop doors to a sea of women that aren’t always privy to such honesty.  This track has so many confessesions and subsequent apologies that you would think Usher wrote it.  As barbershops become more co-ed, our cultural Queens may start to understand that spending 445 mortgage payments on wedding dresses isn’t nearly as productive as paying closer attention to the ingredients that make their men grow naturally—like real Hip Hop.  

1 love, 

Ray Lewis

The Don of a New Day

None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Like most people, I have given a great deal of thought to the rise of Donald Trump, yet unlike most, I am not really surprised that we are here. No one ever went broke underestimating the foolhardiness of the populous. As for the rise in Trump’s polling, I am more curious as to why it took so long? Let’s face it, the United Stated is anything, but… In fact, this one of the most uninformed, xenophobic, segregated, altruistic and polarizing societies the free world has ever known.  And, Donald Trump simply underscores those facts. Even when there should be unanimous unity, the residents of the US find a way to be divided and the authority tasked with the only goal of solving the obvious issues, becomes a larger part of the problem. Let’s enter police brutality, as Exhibit A:

FACT: 
More unarmed black people are killed by police officers than any other ethnicity in the county. 

REACTION FROM THOSE AFFECTED:
Black victims launched an on-line campaign, called Black Lives Matter to highlight, combat and subsequently rectify the issue.

LEADERSHIP REACTION:
All Lives Matter. 

The liberties of a people never were, nor ever will be, secure, when the transactions of their rulers may be concealed from them. 

Patrick Henry

 Let’s pretend, for a second, that the statistical information is slightly skewed and there are actually other communities that suffer from a similar fate; at the bloody hands of those sworn to serve and protect.  That community’s verbal protest would probably be very similar to that of the black community’s Black Lives Matter mantra. What is incredibly inconceivable is…, a country where 62% of its states mandate a Death Penalty as a solution…, and the same nation that are instigators in a half dozen current world wars, offering an All Lives Matter rebuttal.

FACT: 
Predatory lending of financial institutions caused a massive crack in the country’s economic foundation.

REACTION FROM THOSE AFFECTED:
US residents were forced to accept lower paying jobs, or working longer hours, or have stopped looking for jobs altogether.  Many residents turned to alternative means of survival and most of them aren’t legal. Even the least astute financial analyst will tell you violent crimes rise, when economic opportunities falls.

LEADERSHIP REACTION (this was a 3 point plan)

1.      Bail out the financial institutions that caused the economic meltdown.

2.      Appoint the chief executive hunters, Lawrence Summers and Timothy Geithner, to the current administrator’s cabinet.

3.      Allow those bailed-out institutions to buy back the bad debt and sell it for a higher premium to those most adversely effected.

You may be asking, what does any of this have to do with Donald Trump?  Well if you listen really closely, you can almost hear the chapped lips of Middle America (and beyond) humming the chorus to DMX’s 90’s hit single, “Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in HERE, up in here.”

Enter Donald Trump to said theme music.

Trump is the American pimp that comes along at the perfect time.  He shows up right after the ole pimp slapped the shit out of his employee because she was riding on a tardy bus that brought her back late from her last trick.  Candidate Trump promises to make street prostitution great again—like the Marilyn Monroe John F. Kennedy days.  He wants to build a better brand of street walkers when whores were worth something to their masters. Then Donald wants to make better trade agreements with steel barrel manufactures, therefore, when the oldest professional’s unviel their naked breasts to the winter elements, the bigger barrels will help the burning flames burn much brighter and more vigorously. 

Donald Trump wants to lower the cost of white wall tires and car windows with diamonds in the back. He will make bigger and better hotels for the prostitutes to rest their mostly blonde heads.  Finally, Trump will do his best to repeal Obamacare, because the last thing a street hooker needs is medical advice from an African. 

Hillary Clinton is about to find out why one of the most loyal Clinton contributors is about to beat her in a general election.

And the only thing worse than standing idle, while her husband was screwing an intern, is pretending you care about the rest of the world that keeps getting screwed, while the price of Vaseline rises more than the apathy of the authority that should’ve addressed the raped victims when we all were in the Bushes.

1 love,
Ray Lewis

6-.PAAK

Malibu Anderson Paak Release Date: January 15, 2016

Label: Steel Wool / Obe

“Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.” --Plato

There is something that is really, really special about this Malibu LP by Anderson .Paak.  I encourage you to spend the $12 and change; which is a tremendous discount in this era of downloaded noise. 

I believe when it’s all said and done this release will be on the same musical flag pole as D Angelo’s “Brown Sugar”, Kendrick Lamar’s “To Pimp a Butterfly” or Marvin Gaye’s “Trouble Man”.   

“Malibu” is a 16-tracked, groove gumbo plate of funk, blues, Hip Hop, folk, Jazz, and R&B.  This musical journey will raise the brow of everyone from: Sly Stone, Van Hunt, Bilal, Lupe Fiasco & J.Dilla and when the journey is complete you will only need a wash cloth and cigarette. 

This gem has solved my nightly commuting quandary between The Karen Hunter Show (Urban Radio, Sirius XM) and Bomani Jones (ESPN)—two great shows that I haven’t listened to in 2 weeks. 

The production credits of: Hi-Tek, 9^th Wonder, DJ Khalil, Madlib, Chris Dave (just to name a few

) is proof of Anderson’s indiscriminate approach to this amazing 61 minute ride. .Paak's semi-autobiographical depiction isn’t always pretty, but it’s justly poetic.

I can’t begin to pick a favorite track.  However, I am positive that my next speeding ticket can be directly traced to “Without You” f. Rapsody—which has an out-of-this-world sample by Hiatus Kaiyote.  That song should come with a neck brace and an alibi.

The vibe on “Room In Here”, is on some straight, Brut by Fabergé; subwoofer in the trunk, early 90’s R&B tip. Then with little warning, The Game grips the mic with his best Nas impression to transform the already brilliant track into this K.Dot-like era. Game’s sophomoric description of some California Dyme who dropped by the studio wasn’t anything new and the song could’ve held its own without him.  His bars was less than necessary but it certainly wasn’t wasted and it definitely added to unpredictability of the journey through Malibu—thus making a near miss incredibly dope.

After 50+ minutes the CD is highlighted with “The Dreamer” (featuring Talib Kweli) which feels like an ode to the Black Panther Party Movement.  I am here to tell you; you could not tie a neater ribbon on this party gift even if Michelle Obama, Oprah Winfrey and Mother Theresa collaborated on the invitations.

 Soul music is about longevity and reaching and touching people on a human level - and that's never going to get lost.  --Jill Scott

The King vs god

"Always remember others may hate you.  But those that hate you don't win unless you hate them.  And then you destroy yourself."  --Richard M. Nixon

By the time you reach your hump day destination at the watercooler or barbershop or some other social setting there is little doubt that the Michael Jordan vs LeBron James debate will take center stage—relegating the June Season 2 premiere of Power, the season finale of Scandal or the June expiration of the Patriot Act to the back pages of importance—the latter being worse than the ACT and the author.

The on-the-court debate is a fairly easy one…, Jordan is the best player to ever lace them up—and this is coming from a Knick fan.  

He is 6-0 in championship Finals runs and his tenacity to get it done is beyond question.  LeBron, who has a losing record on the Final’s stage is probably more gifted due to his size, speed and his desire to make everyone around him better (ala Magic Johnson).  Jordan’s approach to teammates was more like "get it done" when I need you or we’ll find someone else to replace you—and I may bone your wife in the process (I told you I was a Knick fan).   

I remember when Jordan was asked to voice his feelings on a number of subjects: Chicago teen murders (with the victims missing nothing but their air and their Air Jordans), the unemployment rate, racial discrimination, unfair housing, lack of minority owners (in all sports), and all Jordan could muster up was…, “Republicans buy shoes too” An obvious attempt to not anger the hand that could possibly feed or hang you.  LeBron appears to be different; and for me, that’s where the real debate begins and ends.

WHO THE SHOE FITS, LET THEM WEAR IT

The year before James left the Cavs the unemployment rate in Cleveland was roughly 12.3% (and that’s just for the people that hadn’t given up yet). Naturally, you will need a much bigger calculator to account for the unemployed blacks in the same zip codes.  Upon his return, the unemployment rate fell to 8.4%.  Now only an idiot would think LeBron James (alone or at all) had anything to do with either.  

But, it would take a bigger fool to NOT understand that King James has a lot to do with where the employed spend their money.  The Cavs’ ticket prices have gone up 15% since the rebirth of James and the average attendance has gone from just over 17,000 per game, to an arena capacity of 20,562 or $129 Million more annually. The one year difference [alone] pays James' contractual obligation to the Cavs. Talk about an ROI.

In fairness, Jordan's numbers are probably similar—especially on the road, where he rarely played in front of a non-capacity crowd.  But, when Jordan left the Bulls for the Wizards (2001) I don’t think any major stores, car washes, restaurants, hotels, or parking decks batted an eyelash, never mind closing down entirely.  One could argue that fact says more about the (respective) cities than it does about the actual players.  But, you also get the feeling that it would ONLY matter to one of the players.

  

I mean, let’s face it, one player wore an “I Can’t Breath T-shirt” in protest of the Eric Gardner murder in NYC and the other player seemed more concerned with the shoes the cop had on when he killed him.  

Jordan’s Hall of Fame speech sounded like he will be waiting outside for his doubters.

LeBron’s memo regarding his return to Cleveland sounded like a high school baller asking the homecoming queen to go steady.    

Jordan once bet Pippen (his best friend on the Bulls at the time) a grand that his (Jordan's) bags would come off the plane first.   What Pippen didn’t know was, his good pal, Jordan paid a baggage handler $100 dollars to make sure his bags came off the plane first.  Jordan made a grand (extra) that day. Pippen said the money wasn't nearly as important as the revelation of the character he lost it to.  

I think Jordan is the greatest basketball player that ever stepped foot in the NBA, but there is something about him that just makes you feel like the community lost a bet.

1 love,

Ray Lewis 

TOM BRADY'S TEXT MESSAGES

"Men are able to trust one another, knowing the exact degree of dishonesty they are entitled to expect. "   

--Stephen Leacock

FROM A to Z

 

A.      Why is everyone tripping..., my tight end Aaron Hernandez killed somebody.

B.      Y’all should see what I do to my own balls.

C.      I can’t believe this attack on white American quarterbacks.

D.      The NFL defenses would be pissed if they saw what was in my cup.

E.      The Eagles signed Mike Vick.

F.      This fine only hurts the Boston strippers.

G.     You call this a punishment, 4 more weeks at home with my underwear model wife, Gisele?

H.     Do you know how many balls I would have to deflate to lose to the Colts?

I.        Y’all should’ve seen what I did to the balls in the Super Bowl.

J.       I wonder just how many jump-offs I will be able to smash now that I have four extra weeks.

K.      When the 2015 season kicks off, I will still look better than Payton Manning.

L.       The real losers are the gay camera men.

M.    Most Patriots fans are cool with cheating.

N.     Note to self…, I should’ve paid $2 Million to let the air out of Roger Goodell.

O.     What offensive doesn’t take advantage of the rules?

P.      Prince needs to do a concert on the attack of the white man’s freedoms.

Q.     You should see the other questionable shit in my phone!

R.      Did I hear Ray Lewis says something about my morals?

S.      When the season starts I will still look better than Shannon Sharpe.

T.      I often wonder…, when my nieces and nephews call me Uncle Tom… Joyner always answers.

U.     Under no circumstances will this keep me out of the Hall of Fame.

V.      We still have more Super Bowl victories than your team.

W.    What in the @!#$ is a Wells Report?

X.      If you saw where Bill Belichick steals his X’s and O’s from Goodell would really be pissed.   

Y.      Wait until y’all see the ratings for the first 4 Patriots games without me.

Z.      I am suspended for 4 games and Isiah “Zeek” Thomas is still coaching?   

1 Love,

Ray Lewis