PASTIME PARADISE

There are two kinds of man; the ones who make history and the ones who endure it. Camilo Jose Cela

Brace yourself, this is the time of the year where most news outlets reflect on the year that was. How original. After all, who couldn’t stand to fumble through another ESPN 24-hour B-scroll of Mick Vick pawing his way to infamy? Mike may not have his falcon family to "kick" around anymore, but he’ll have enough prison pals to play with in 2008, should infamous icons like O.J. and R.K. defenses ever rest. For R. Kelly, it is important to note: “Double Up” takes on a whole new meaning in prison.


If Barry Bonds didn’t know what that clear gel he was rubbing was, Kelly may have some insight at least until the Feds readies Bonds' bunk too.

Some folks say the Feds are just picking on our black elite and their profiling knows no boundaries. I'll buy that. In fact, the alphabet boys have now crossed the clergy lines, picking on hometown homies: Eddie L. Long, and Creflo A. Dollar. My first thought is; names like Long & Dollar sure make IRS profiling slightly easier—almost like spotting a furry chinchilla hat at a prize fight. Realistically, profiling is just getting its second wind—-just wait until the government starts the housing market bail out, news of Creflo and Long will be out like Queen Latifah.

I tend to worry about the rich and famous as much as they worry about me. My focus is this presidential election. I thought it was mighty white of Barack to add Oprah to his meal ticket (no pun intended, of course). You will be hard-pressed to find a more essential election than the upcoming 2008 race to destroy what’s left of this so-called superpower. The term superpower is considerably humorous when you stop and think... the only essential commodity the rest of the world relies on the USA for is wheat and Tyler Perry—and one has WAY too much sugar.



If you listen to the loud whispers from China, they feel rice is a more than an adequate substitute to wheat. So, while the American media is distracted by “tainted” toys—China is preparing a global takeover that will change the world’s landscape forever. It is almost knee-slapping funny to think of America as a superpower, yet something as simply as the classic American car is a Bug made in Germany. Or, one of the nation’s leading cuisines is Italian pizza. Even sports attendance is becoming more and more irrelevant. As a matter for fact, there are more NBA fans in China than there are people in the entire U.S.!!! On the homeland front, the United States military, the U.S. currency and the once-touted American commercialism are all fading faster than a Bush Twin’s high. While China is shifting its mighty gears and waging a not-so-stubble war with the U.S., our ballrooms, boarding schools and barbershops are still wagering bets on who has the best butt, J-Lo or Beyonce?


I am not sure who wins that battle, but I am willing to bet, both of their assets are wrapped in jeans that were made in China.

Until ’08, Bottoms Up!!!

(click on blog title for bonus track)

1 love,
Ray Lewis

NOW WHAT?

“Art imitates life, unless you live long enough to understand that the converse is true.”


What Now?

If you look real close you can almost see the (not so imaginary) first down marker being drawn right down the middle of America. On one side, you have the 8% of America’s wealth. They are the ones that wake up every morning, get Chad and Little Johnny off to school. Kiss the wife, send flowers to the mistress and page the male page. They arrive in the office between 8 and 9, sipping on a cup of over-priced coffee then open their tax-deducted laptop to make sure that their off-shore accounts are available when the America dollar collapses. The other 90% of Americans attend their churches, vote for the senate seats and use their discretionary income to support their movies, attend ballgames, and TVO their talk shows. The latter 2% of the population are in prison — some without bars. So what now?

Well, I heard some Radio One broadcasters tried to organize a blackout day. A day where a group of conscious black people take a “well earned” day off from their typical misguided spending binges. I liked the idea, in fact I participated — unlike most of the targeted audience. It’s hard to measure the success of such a day, but watching black people come together to do anything positive is never a negative. Personally, I would have used the Friday after Thanksgiving as my blackout day — and still will. I found it somewhat ironic that the Radio One air personalities, who rely heavily on their advertisers to support the 40 song play list and Steve Harvey suits, would call for an African-American economic boycott. At best, this blackout was a conflict of interest. Luckily for Radio One their advertisers don’t listen to their stations. They were probably up counting the money in their off-shore accounts. The blackout irony continued as I watched some black participants passing by Wal-Mart in an SUV. Clearly that blackout will only last for 200 more miles.


What Now? Well, I understand that we have a black candidate in the presidential race and his wife looks like she would’ve participated in the blackout — after she got her nails done. I like Michelle Obama, but if her husband wins the nomination she may experience a blackout of a totally different kind. The Obamas might want to add Frank Lucas to their payroll.

What now? The Hollywood writers are on a blackout [Who knew it was contagious?]. The writers are fighting for DVD, video / iPod streams, and Youtube points to be added to their 4% residuals. It’ll be interesting to see who is going to write those brilliant Flava Flav lines.

What now?
Sorry, Obamas... prayer gets my vote!

(click on the blog title for bonus track)

1 love,
Ray Lewis

INTEREST ONLY

"Just because a person is paranoid, doesn't mean that someone isn't watching them."
--Season 3: The Wire, HBO

I must say it was rejoicing to see my people come together for such a relevant cause like the Jena 6. My joy jolted when I swallowed the fact that for one day (at least), we put aside the community’s typical engulfment with the Jackson Five, the Fantastic Four, the Treacherous Three, 2 Pac or KRS-1. Although who could be mad at the latter?

In any event, as great a day as it was in Jena, Louisiana, I had an interesting passing thought about this (and other) large, predominantly black gatherings. I would love to see a crowd of that capacity pick a particular time of the protest, line the news media lenses up and all AT ONCE, pull out a major credit card and cut it in half. We can dump the depleted cards in a barrel marked INTEREST ONLY! By the way, that noise you just heard was some black republican who just shitted on himself. No worries his white wife will clean it up.... bet she can’t do the electric slide though.


You see the only thing that divides this country more than race, religion, or region is revenue. And, the foundation of revenue—or the lack there-of is credit. Credit card companies are making a KILLING, killing what is left of the middle class. And, whoever is left over, predatory lenders, public schools, and Pubic Hair Thomas will spend the rest of their life time appointments destroying.

Do you have any idea what Visa, MasterCard and Macy's call their cardholders that pay their bills on time? Dead Beats! Yep Dead Beats! Major credit card companies make the majority of your money (excuse me, their money) off the interest and to them Dead Beats (in their world) don't pay any interest. But, you probably already knew that, right?

So, humor me for a minute. Let’s say you get a (loosely-termed) "offer" in the mail to transfer your credit card balance from Card A to Card B. Card B has a 0% interest rate for 9 months. Hell, let’s make it an even year. So you take your $3,000.00 balance (with 15% interest, if you are lucky) from Card A and transfer it to Card B... as the gangsta mail offer suggested. Side note: black republicans think rap artists are the real gangstas! Yeah, watch your back, people!!! I think that’s Nelly and T.I. in the Bushes!

Now back to your 3-grand loss. If this balance is older than a year, it is safe to assume another year won't make much of a difference, right? Which is probably why you got the hostile offer in the mail to begin with.

[I wonder if Colin Powell is delivering mail these days?]

For the record, if you were going to pay this balance off within the 12-month, drug free zone (yet another excerpt from The Wire) that’s cool. Congratulations. But, for the other 99% of the Jena 6 Movement this applies to you... and you may want to get out the Vaseline for this one.

Once that 0% interest rate expires, your new rate(which could be anything) will INCLUDE all the interest that accrued during the 12-month “drug-free offer” plus 10-12% of the national average—which is what "variable rate" really means. So your original 15% interest rate (from Card A with the $3,000.00 balance) is now 25-30% or an additional $900.00 Well, at least your neighbor still has the house-warming toaster that you purchased on the card.

I remember after the second plane hit the towers on 9-11, one of the first things George Bush said (after the Floridian kindergarten class stop reading to him) was: “America will be fine. Americans should act natural and don’t change a thing, in fact.... go shopping.” I wonder if that was Bush's idea of a white sale?

click on INTEREST ONLY title for bonus track.

1 love,
Ray Lewis

FRUIT OF THE LOONS

Fashion is something barbarous, for it produces innovation without reason and imitation without benefit.
George Santayana


There is an Atlanta city councilman named C.T. Martin that is spearheading a law to ban baggy pants that showcase the undergarments worn by a large segment of our youth culture. The banned ordinance falls under the indecent exposure law that is already on the Georgia law books. Wow! Just think we are experiencing record highs in unemployment; violent hand-to-hand crime making a comeback (in Martin’s community no less), home envisions taking place at noon and black kids (with their saggy pants)are still getting shot in the back by the police. Yet with this level of chaos in full bloom, in Martin’s backyard, you just have to wonder how he finds the free time to double as the Fashion Police? Why not just pass a law on being a better father?

For the record, I think the baggy pants fashion is one step below retardation, which by the way is not illegal. If I had a son [and… Lauryn Hill if you are listening that offer is still on the table] who attempted to wear his clothes below his ass, I would kick him in his buttocks so hard that the swelling in his trousers would fit snug on his now inflated rectum. See no laws, just size 13 Timberlands, a field goal attempt and a Father-of-the-Year speech.

My California coastal brother recently passed through Atlanta and got wind of the proposed law and agreed with the Councilman. See, this is what I come to expect from 6-7 break-dancer that used to wear Dashikis to family functions. Dwayne, Ike Turner called, he wants his mushroom belt back. There a lot of things wrong with today’s youth culture, but attire is not even in the top 10. After all, we all went through a stupid dress phase.


Recently I saw one half of the Atlanta-based rap group Kris Kross at a car wash. (I’m not sure if it was Kris or Kross) but who ever it was, he had his clothes turned the right way and he once got paid to wear it backwards. Like most kids, they will grow out of the silly closet statements…. It’s the actual closet I am worried about.

Man, I remember paying a lady on my block $2.00 to sew my name on a Puma suit. LL used to roll up one pant leg whenever he did Rock The Bells. Kool Moe Dee’s name was Kool Moe Dee. My high school teacher drove a Pinto. I saw a Muslim at KFC. Quincy Jones, James Earl Jones and Sidney Poitier hand their black revolutionary checks to white women. Snoop has a perm.





Oprah had a show about Hip Hop. I heard the Pope drove a bullet-proof car, where the hell was his faith? Certainly not with the youth. Sorry for the digression.
Do you think clothes really make the man? Well, Bill Clinton got head in the Oval Office and his pants had to be below his ass… and C.T. Martin probably voted for him. Now he wants to vote to fine or lock kids up for wearing baggy pants? I know this fashion came out of the prison culture, but so did the furniture that you are sitting on reading this article.

as always, click on title for bonus clip

1 love,
Ray Lewis

No Rhythm, Just Blues

You will never know how much it has cost my generation to preserve your freedom. I hope you will make good use of it.
John Quincy Adams

Since the beginning of mankind black music has been the harmonious link that joins the beat of two or more hearts. I am quite sure the beginning of black life can be traced to a drum or bass. Since slavery,(possibly before) Africans have used music to connect the souls of each other, while skillfully steering clear of the white man's interference. Now today’s black music is mostly played on American radio frequencies owned by white males. Talk about your Shakespearean tragedies.

The Beginning of the End
If you ever wondered what killed the 12-bar rhythm and blues.., well the conspirators are plentiful.
You could start with inception of the disco era and end with misguidance of Teddy Riley and more recently, P. Silly. Oddly, you can also credit Puff The Magic Sampler with keeping some of R&B music alive, since the majority of his gimmicky re-takes started on the wax of an R&B record. However, history remembers black music the end of R&B will be a significant benchmark. Personally, I miss that era.

One of the things that I simply really hate about America is it's crafty intent to put a label on everything. But, like slavery, if it’s to be packaged and sold, it would first need a label… don’t forget the bar code! Rhythm and Blues is really a marketing term birthed in the late 40’s to package black music that was scattered between jazz (remember that?), soul and gospel. Donnie is living proof of black music’s historically blended success—yet no major record company would dare label his music gospel. Hence his contractual independence.

In the 60’s, America got a whiff of the rebellious West Indian vibes from Jamaica, called Reggae.


Who knew it would become the unintended foundation to hip hop music—which is why major radio stations in this country play neither real Reggae nor real Hip Hop. Because (together), like the brave slaves before us, we would probably rebel.

Nile Rogers [the bass player from the R&B group Chic] and the unapologetic soul of James Brown punctuated the stamp of Hip Hop music. And, I think if someone sat down and told the story of black music to 50 Cent and the GED Unit, they would never have polluted this beautiful genre. With any luck they would have just shot each other instead of poising our kids. Although I miss R&B, I know it’s still out there… all you have to do is check the label.




Click on blog title for your throwback bonus track


1 love,
Ray Lewis

DON'T HATE THE PLAYA

One of the few differences between the corner drug dealer and a corporate CEO is the way they filed their taxes.

If you ever had any doubt that professional sports is a simple microcosm of the society at large, this week’s sports pages will remove all your doubts.. In my lifetime, there has never been a more tempered sports climate—or (ironically) a better time to sit your child down and explain a few of life's lessons that far exceed any parental handbook.

Page 1: San Francisco slugger, Barry Bonds
Barry is the superstar son of baseball Hall of Fame outfielder, Bobby Bonds. The senior Bonds hated the media more than junior. And, six years ago the prodigal son was a shoe-in to join his (now deceased) dad in the game's exclusive shrine. However, in light of a so-called “mountain” of suspicious steroid evidence, Barry’s once red carpet ride into The Hall is now very questionable (not to mention, personal). His fate rests in the hands of a mostly white press, who have a mutual disdain for him and his dad. If you were an NBA referee, how would you like Bonds' odds? For the record, Barry has never tested positive for the drug. Nor has he ever admitted to such use (unlike some of his former peers). Most significantly, at the height of the alleged steroids era, baseball NEVER tested its players for the cheating substance. Yet, baseball commissioner, Bud Selig who conflictingly doubles as a team owner, has all but convicted Bonds in the court of public opinion. These suited drug dealers ain't bull-shitting! Historically, baseball has never been kind to black ball players; so consequently some black ballas have never forgiven or forgotten that racist fact. And, in this case, those embedded memories are shared by two men who happen to have more than a family bond.

Page 2: Suspended Falcon Phenom Michael Vick.
The sad truth here is if Vick decided to kill his wife, have involuntarily sex with an under age stranger or shoot an ordinary citizen—all with the same eyewitness that are accusing him of this federal crime, his chances of freedom would be a lot less compromised. So murder, rape and domestic violence all take a back seat to fighting dogs. Only in America. In essence you have people like Kobe Bryant and OJ Simpson whispering, damn, I'm sure glad I am not that Nigga. Vick says he is innocent, his “friends” say he is guilty, the Monday after Thanksgiving only one of them will be truly grateful. The other will be sleeping with his back to the wall.

Page 3: Rouge NBA referee, Tim Donaghy
Iron fist hoop Commissioner, David Stern is simply sick at the possible fall-out behind this indictment. All of Stern's foolish, league-mandated attempts to make his sport more yuppie friendly and less new jack swing may be flushed down a crap table by a league official. Stern says he felt betrayed by one of his hand-picked, $260,000-per employees. You'd think with all of Dave's alphabet boys on this case, they would've noticed the diamond in the back of Tim's white Cadillac. Now the only thing white collar about this crime is the perpetrator. And the worst is rumored to be on the horizon, especially if Donaghy gets on the stand and sings like Neno Brown. Stern can take some comfort in knowing that while Donaghy was shaving points, at least he adhered to the NBA's dress code.

click title for bonus track

1 love,

Ray Lewis

VICKstory

The quality of decision is like the well-timed swoop of a falcon which enables it to strike & destroy its victim -Sun Tzu

For a variety of reasons I really try to refrain from mainstream stories — mostly due to the saturation of it all, and partly due to a lack of a unique perspectives. In the Michael Vick case, I decided to make an exception - although I am really not sure why. In this country being indicted of a crime (still) means innocent until proven guilty, unless of course the Federal Government is doing the indicting. Then it means, pack lots of Vaseline and always sleep with your back to the wall.

I have never been a huge fan of football and I am probably less of a Falcon fan. However, like most Georgia residents, I could not help but watch and marvel at the once-in-a-lifetime skills of the Falcon Wonder. I remember one Sunday while I was sitting in church I could have sworn that I heard the pastor speed up the ceremony as the kick-off clock crept closer to 1pm—and that pastor was a female! The following Sunday, I witnessed a traditional white family (mother, father, sister, brother)—all with their faces painted black and sporting Michael Vick's home jersey. I wonder what color dad’s face would've been if Michael Vick actually came by to pick up his J-Lo hipped daughter?

I read most of the dog fighting indictment, which incidentally, is extremely suspect of any CREDIBLE evidence as far as placing Vick at the actual scene of the horrific—and I mean—horrific crimes. I am not sure a jury of his peers will be as objective; especially since this will not be a jury of his peers. His peers will be fighting for a Super Bowl, while Vick will be battling for a bowl, but there will be nothing super about it.

Innocent or guilty, I truly believe Vick has thrown his last pass as a Falcon. If Vick is guilty, he has thrown his last pass as an NFL player... if the latter is true it will truly be difficult to find this man’s best friend.

(click on title above for bonus track)


1 love,
Ray Lewis

R.I.P.

“We probably wouldn't worry about what people think of us if we could know how seldom they do.” Olin Miller

So its official… The NAACP has buried the “N” word. Am I alone in the ironic fact that the National Association of the Advancement of Colored People took the time out of their archaic schedule to bury the “N” word, yet still (proudly) call themselves Colored people? Stop it, y'all are killing me!

I imagine Mark Fuhrman woke up this morning from his hooded linen rest to ask; where were these Niggas during the O.J. trial? I wonder how many neighborhood liquor stores the N-Word funeral procession skated passed on the way to the Detroit graveyard? The
-AACP (remember there are no more “N” words), may want to swing the funeral procession pass the University of Michigan and get an update on the Affirmative Action ban that those crackers buried.

This Motown comedy act got a lot less funnier when you consider the fact that Ward Connerly is the mastermind behind this ridiculous ritual. And, I waited very patiently wondering (aloud)when the N-Word eulogist was going to mention that Ward Connerly was also the right wing creator of the Proposition 209 Bill, which was lawfully designed to outlaw all race and gender preferences in state hiring and state university admissions. Or, quite simply, a bill to eliminate Affirmative Action. If you listen carefully, you can still hear the faint giggle from Donald Goings’ grave.

Honestly, I applaud all great intentions, no matter how silly. But there are so many other things going down in the motor city that I think would take precedence like:

 How much of the city’s building fund is going towards the 24” rims on Mayor Kwame M. Kilpatrick’s Cadillac Escalade?
 Why wasn’t Eminem at the “N” Word funeral?
 How do the Detroit pimps get purple gators from a green alligator?
 Why didn’t Chris Webber call a time out before the AACP got started?

Click link or blog title for Motown Bonus clip.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ii6ujiw9sdE

1 love,

Ray Lewis

SOUL FOOD

I was watching Tavis Smiley one day and his guest was the one and only Denzel Washington. Usually when Denzel makes his movie premiere talk show rounds he is donned in a NY fitted, jeans or an occasional collared shirt. When Washington sat down to chat with Tavis; he chilled in a dark tailored two piece that could make the most heterosexual man, mutter damn!! Smiley, not missing the obvious opportunity, asked: Man, why the suit? And, Denzel in an effortless manner that only he could script simply replied: “I wore this suit to show you how much I appreciate what you do.” Silence.


Well, as many of you know I am a HUGE music fan and in honor of this spectacular CD, this will be one of the few times where I check my dry-witted sarcasm at the door.

After a four-year lay-off singer/ songwriter extraordinaire, Donnie unleashes his second LP called The Daily News and (honestly) my simple review will never do it justice. In spite of that fact, here it goes. Wait, before I get started, there are a couple of things you have to absorb.

a) Don’t for a minute think that you are going to drop the top or swing your hips to this one--it is simply not that type of party. Donnie is much too complex for that. 9-1-1 will be the closest track to a toe-tapping single that you will get from Marvin Gaye’s nephew; and believe me, his legendary uncle will be extremely proud of this one. Add Donnie Hathaway to that (would-be) proud list, who Marvin’s nephew is named after.

b) You will also notice the inability to categorize this CD, hence the Independent distribution from SoulThought Records—I can only imagine the faces in the recording studio as these lyrics were being recited.

Not so ironically, The Daily News tackles subjects like sexism, racism, drug abuse, homophobia, child molestation, the Atlanta Child Murders, suicide and even the prescription drug companies. Yeah, it is hard to snap your finger to that one—although the brilliant TRUE gospel-like music arrangements actually attempts to do just that.

If you didn’t like the debut LP The Colored Section, don’t waste your time with this one. Just turn on your urban contemporary radio and watch your soul get washed down the sewer. Who knows, maybe one day it’ll make the daily news.

Bonus Tracks:

  Clips for The Daily News http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2bFsa-KFIc

The Colored Sections http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-330HiPgSw

1 love,
Ray Lewis

Ya Don't Say

“The only real controversy behind saying the word nigger is…, for the first time in America history, a black man told a white man that there is something he cannot do.”---Chris Rock

Okay, where were we? Ah, yes, Imus. He got fired for saying something stupid. Imagine that. Now here’s a little known Black History fact, Imus has been riding this short school bus skit for 30 years. Now the corporate suits concluded that he’s too over-the-top? Wow, white people are so strange. Personally, I don’t believe in censorship of any kind. For one, it goes against the very principal of a democracy. Secondly, it’ll open a pandora's box that America will never fairly or adequately “police.” Furthermore, how can anyone south of Jesus legislate morals?

Is Imus an ass? Certainly. But, last I checked that’s not against the law. If it was Charles Barkley would be doing life—plus ten. As far as the girls’ hoop team from Rutgers goes, it is important to remember it’s not what you are called; it’s what you answer to. So, if I had a vote [which I am positive most black people are elated that I don’t] I would’ve voted NOT to fire Imus. No one asked me, but I also would’ve never hired him—which I think is where the discussion should start.

My cube-mate asked me why is the good Reverend Sharpton and his podium pal Jesse involved in every racial situation in America? I rhetorically answered... maybe because someone disassembled the Klan? I thought that would’ve ended the conversation, but noooooo. So, once that awkward silence ended, I asked: Would you rather digest the racial opinions of Louis Farrakhan, Belafonte, or Hugo Chavez? I sure do. I told my naïve neighbor that media loves Jesse and Al because they inject a certain emotion (oddly within black and white people) every time their face hits the flat screen. And, the media is about steroid ratings, not substance—which is why Hugo will NEVER be invited to speak at the United Nations again. Jesse and Al may have a picnic there. You can now add my name to the list of Black people that my noisy neighbor would rather not hear from. I wonder if he realizes how mutual the feeling.

1 love,
Ray Lewis

DIVIDED WE STAND

"One of the most segregated times in America is the hour of worship."
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.



These are some of the most mystifying moments of my life and honestly I am a tad bit worried. Just think, technology is advancing at warped speeds and common sense is decreasing at a similar (yet unfortunate) rate. The defined class where one resides will probably determine the economic success. (Editior's note) the middle-class will no longer be an option.

Ride with me for a minute.

I was at a gas station the other day and some Alec Baldwin-looking cat steps to the counter, drops a pound in front of the cashier and says: Excuse me, can I get $100 on pump three. Every head in the store turned to see what was parked at pump three, I on the other hand, had this certain urge to pee. At the urinal I just wondered when is this liberation thing in Iraq going to manifest. Or will I have to get gas with a ski mask and a gat. Then, the more realistic thought manifested... which is just how silly I'm going to look in my new Acura Hybrid... with a subwoofer. Once the daydreaming stopped, I dropped $11 on pump four and I headed to my business appointment at the office of The 100 Black Men of America.

The lady who runs the Atlanta-based 100 Black Men's office told me "We don’t do business with white vendors." I guess she had a bad experience with the Tiger Woods Negro Foundation. I told her that approach was noble and I cannot help but respect that. In fact I wish more people had that option. The one hiccup in their plan is, black people don’t make copiers, printers, or fax machines (which was the reason for my visit), so even if the person that sold the equipment was black, (in this case me) the manufacturer won't be... so what would really be the point? As she contemplated whether or not she should have ever opened the door (never mind calling me back), I gathered my pictured presentation, zipped my gear and made my exit through the ironically colored white doors.

Once I returned to my lily-white office to discuss my unproductive field experience with my manager, he stopped me (mid sentence) and asked: "What kind of people only does business based on race? I was eager to remind him that he voted for Regan, Nixon and Bush... twice. But the words couldn't get pass my silly smirk or twitching tongue. Instead, I asked him: Have you ever heard of this organization called the Augusta National, home to The Master’s Golf Tournament? I probably should have waited for option three.

I did however, update my resume.

The downward spiral to the day peaked when I heard a shout from an adjoined cube-mate that bellowed, "Ray, can you believe this SHIT, MSNBC just fired Imus...
stay tuned

1 love,

Ray Lewis

SONGS IN THE KIA OF LIFE

"Music is love in search of the right words." --Sidney Lanier

About a month ago I was on my way home from a Jamaican restaurant, when a young lady, who probably won her driver’s license at a Ray Charles dart tossing contest, ran into the driver’s side door of my (now two-door) Acura Legend. Upon impact, my Omar CD skipped uncontrollably, while the Jerk Chicken (with extra gravy) hit the windshield. Lady Charles had three kids in the car (and one on the way). Her Boo seated next to her,jumped out the car--and I'm thinking he wants to add some beef. Instead he looked at the accident, then gave me the head nod, and went into I-HOP and never returned. And, I thought I was the one that wanted to choke her. Man marriage must be rough in these parts. Anyway, Sister Charles (thankfully) had State Farm insurance. And, in two days (on of them being a Sunday) they set me up in a fully loaded, KIA Sportage. Did I mention this was a KIA?

I asked the Enterprise Rental attendant, is a KIA all that you have? He said, yep, you'll love it. Okay, so now I am really pissed. In desperate need of a level-headed thinker to calm things down, I called my cousin Stephanie, who lives in Athens. Hell if you are black and live in Athens, Ga. you have to own a level head right? Besides, I figured I should inform a close relative of this pending beat down at the rent-a-car spot. And, I know Steph is the one relative that would bail me out with minimal questions. But, before I finished the story, (I got to the part about the KIA Sportage) Stephanie starts laughing louder than the AM radio. After three days of sporting the Sportage; I couldn’t take it anymore. I went back to Enterprise and said.., come on man, a Sportage? This time I had a brotha, who said I understand (you had an Ac), so I am going to give you an upgrade (as if you could be down graded from a KIA). I said cool. What’s the upgrade? He said a KIA Amanti. Any minute I was expecting the PUNKED cameras to put an end to this foolishness, then I remembered that I am a celebrity in name only.

When the attendant came back with the “upgrade.” He jumped out the new whip and says (with a straight face): this is KIA’s answer to the E-Class Mercedes. I said; my man, if this is the answer, what the hell was the question? In all fairness, the KIA headlights were the mirror image of the old Benz’ headlamps. So much so, that I pulled into a gas station and this dude pushing a stone-cold S-Class was right next to me. He was parking a black-on-black, cromed-up, 5 double O.. it was SICK. Anyway, he slid out the whip with his hand extended, ready to dap me up on my new Benz-looking whip. But as he walked closer, he caught a glance at the now visible KIA logo and withdrew the dap. He kept walking... I think he even smirked! Punk.
Too tired to put up with much more of this insanity, I simply turned up the heat on the KIA seats, then loaded five of the dopest CDs I own. This five (I feel) should be in everyone s collection: Listen Up:

Jewels – The Self Outside Project
If you like The Roots, then climb on board and ride with this independent label sensation. The virbrant lyrics and live music is simply sick. This is the ultimate driving vibe--no matter what your pushing. Jewels is bred from the VA and the CD made sitting in a KIA seem cool--the tinted windows helped too. One listen and you’ll search their archives for prior releases like: Sunz of Soul; The Situation, Anonanas and Truth Thru Fiction. One of the best kept secrets from the Commonwealth; along with my girl Joye B. Moore who will be a household name one day.

Esthero - Wikked Lil' Grrrls
You really cannot go wrong with any of Esthero's joints, but this one is pure hotness. This yet another one of Toronto's finest kept secrets, with timeless music and endless energy. She has a UK feel, an urban sound, and a Hip Hop groove. If you don’t like this joint, you should probably lease a KIA.... with 22's.

Omar – For Pleasure
There are three things I leave my house with: My keys, an alibi and an Omar disc. If I'm heading to Athens, you can add the 9mm glock to that list. In case you just met me, this is BY FAR my favorite artist. I played this For Pleasure CD at a cosmetology school in Decatur, Ga., and one of the students asked me what language was he speaking. If you are ever in south side of Decatur, Ga., keep driving.

Bob Marley & The Wailers – Rastaman Vibration
I believe this CD was Hip Hop before Hip Hop ever had a name. Classic in every literal sense of the word. This is the best of the Marley collection…even the Decatur students vibed to this one--and I know they had no idea of Marley's vibration. Every Jamaican household has this joint (on some format or the other), along with a picture of the Last Supper and a calendar with the wrong date showing.

Zaki Ibrahim – Once Black America understands that female soul extends far beyond the likes of Alicia, Mary, Faith, and Kelly they'll embrace the world vibes of this eclectic wonder. I could not think of a better place to start my trip than right here with another Roots inspired sister (she, like Esthero, is actually white from Canada too). The Toronto-bred Zaki has a down-tempo, acid soul style that strokes the essence of the heart.. Just close your eyes and picture a funky version of SADE.

T-Mobile wish they had a "five" like this. Now that I've turned in the KIA and got the Ac back..., the Legend continues.

1 love,
Ray Lewis

THE B SIDE

The beautiful thing about hip-hop is it's like an audio collage. You can take any form of music and do it in a hip-hop way and it'll be
a hip-hop song. That's the only music you can do that with.

--Talib Kweli

One night while channel searching, I stopped on CNN. I was frozen stiff when I witnessed Paula Zahn asking a Baptist preacher: “What's wrong with Hip Hop music?” And, to think, all this time I thought TBS was Turner’s comedy network. Watching Zahn analyze Hip Hop music is sort of like asking Ron Isley to do your taxes, while R. Kelly is watching the kids. Zahn wouldn’t know Kurtis Blow from a Clinton escapade. The industry word on the street (okay, my friend in New York) says: Zahn gained her Hip Hop credibility from the fact that Russell Simmons watches her show. Well, I sometimes watch HGTV; does that mean I want to date Tim Hardaway? Someone has to put an end to this foolishness—naturally, I volunteered.


I may be the only person on the post side of 40 that simply refuses to watch Hip Hop music get pilfered by the masses like Jazz, Reggae, and Rhythm and Blues. Sometimes I feel like a one gun army and I am ready to fight to the end. Man, my kids are in trouble. Let’s face it, my kids may never learn to solve for X, but they will certainly know who Big Bank Hank is. Maybe I’ll adopt.

Believe it or not I like Paula Zahn; in fact some of my best friends are white. You’d think one of my friends at CNN would tap Zahn on the ass like a Tip Drill Video or (more realistically) whisper in her earpiece: Zahn if you want to know what’s up with Hip Hop music, why don’t you ask: Chuck, Mos, Talib, Kris or Esco? Mos would probably point you in the direction of his latest joint “True Magic”. Now I would not expect Paula Zahn to flip that in her changer, but the fact that most black people couldn’t do that either is probably the root cause of TRUE Hip Hop music becoming a resident on a respirator.

Forget no ass Zahn, one day I was listening to The Tom Joyner Morning Show (what can I tell you traffic in Atlanta is just that bad). In any event, Joyner and New York-based Jackie Reid were having a similar debate about the decline of Hip Hop music (thank God for Black History Month). Reid attributed the decline to degrading lyrics (how deep); while Joyner blamed the 21% decline to pirating and bootlegging. Oddly neither thought to scan Uncle Thomas’ play list. Maybe HBCU's is where the fighting on that show ends—I just wish Hip Hop music wasn’t the formatted sacrifice.

And now for the featured presentation:

Reasonable Doubt June 1996, Jay-Z
Roc-A-Fella Records / Priority Records

Iconic is probably the best adjective to describe this Hip Hop classic. If you ever wondered why Jay gets a pass for all the commercial corniness from here to the first Blueprint—look no further than Reasonable Doubt. The Black Album the world’s first rap artist retirement party underscores this fact.

Right from the start, Mistress of Hip Hop, Mary J. stamps her Queen of Soul hook on “Can’t Knock The Hustle.” One track later Brooklyn Buddy Biggie rips a few verses—fresh from his two-year "Ready To Die" debut. Biggie's tag team with Jigga on Brooklyn’s Finest is about as close as you’ll ever come to a neighborhood anthem. The rest of this Hip Hop masterpiece depicts a rags to riches victory second only to that of John F. Kennedy’s White House run. Hip Hop enthusiast will argue that this time America killed the wrong president.

1 love,

Ray Lewis

MEET THE PRESS

"The power of the periodical press is second only to that of the people."

-Alexis de Tocqueville

It sure seems like the media has an unusually cool, calm and un-clamoring relationship with Barack Obama. Could it be that the most powerful, yet tainted and unsavory news and entertainment outlet has finally come to terms with its iniquitous ways? Or, is Barack such a breath of fresh air (their words), that he gets a media pass—in the truest sense of the word? Before we begin to whip out the book of baby names, searching for what "Obama" really means; let's examine a few brothas the media dubbed "safe":

Cuba Gooden Jr.
Let’s face it, the media skipped right pass the Boyz In Da Hood section of his resume. In fact, when the media mentions this good Negro's accolades they tipically start his infamous “fetchin’ line from Jerry McGuire. Sadly, John Singleton gets the same amount of credit for jump-starting Gooden’s career as Keenon Ivory Wayans receives for propelling Jim Carrey’s career on In Living Color.

Tiger Woods
I guess you see where this list is going, huh? Wal-Mart pulled all of the Fuzzy Zeller promotions when Zeller suggested (after Tiger won his first Masters tournament); “Just don’t bring any of that Collared Greens and Chicken up in here.” Who the hell does Fuzzy think he is, Michael Richards? I heard Tim Hardaway called Tiger and said "damn, I cannot believe that fruit said that. I think Zeller is nuts!!" (no pun intended).

Clarence Thomas
Conservative news and talk could not get enough of this Supreme Negero nominee. Blacks are certain to be happy with this selection, the media touted. Then, the press turned on Pimp Thomas when Anita Hill (reluctantly) emerged with can of Coke and an upside down smile. Thomas claimed this hairy situation was nothing short of a "high-tech lynching." Thomas leaped pass the more cliché race card and reached straight for the slave slogan.. one that would make David Duke uncomfortable. You may not be able toargue with Thomas' merits, but you sure can question his motatives. At least he still has his wife.

Michael Jordan
What can I say, if you are a good Negro that is usually enough for the media... Add running and jumping to the mix… well, the press is likely to give you a key to their teen daughter's tree house. Jordan’s press pass doesn't even have an expiration date. Mike Nice can gamble on NBA time, plant a black seed in a white woman (think Juanita's lawyer knew that?), trade marriage secrets with Amad Rashaad or dunk on Bugs Bunny. This is all possible just as long as that Wall Street NIKE swosh at the bottom of the CNBC ticker doesn’t show a negative, he'll be as positive as a Strong Thurman DNA sample. I remember Jordan was once asked: "why don't he speak out against the slave labor/ Third World “employees” that are handcrafting his NIKE Airs... The same ones that black kids are killing each other for in Chicago?" Jordan said, ah, what can I say.., Republicans wear sneakers too. Great. I wonder if those same Republicans are still searching for the REAL perpetrators that murdered his dad? I think Kobe is more like Mike than he realizes.

I know Taye Diggs, Halle Berry and Oprah Winfrey assumed I forgot about them. Hey, don’t worry your day is coming.. Today, however, Obama is the focus. I have to admit Barack will be a formidable opponent—mainly because he is focused and (seemingly) fearless. I sometimes wonder, though.. if you are smart enough to be president, you should be wise enough not to run. Right Colin?

I find it funny how the most conservative right-wingers delicately handle Barack… come on you've heard them: "He is so clean," "he speaks so well," "he is so credible." Do you think Barack will ever tell those ass-less conservatories that, unless you are Flavor Flav or the governor of California those attributes are not compliments? Obama may find out really soon that black people are more likely to vote along the party lines versus the racial ones (ask Sharpton). Who knows, Barack may know that... After all, I don’t really know much about him… of course, I am not pressed.

1 love,

Ray Lewis

Any Given Sunday

A man without ambition is dead. A man with ambition but no love is dead. A man with ambition and love for his blessings here on earth is ever so alive. Having been alive, it won't be so hard in the end to lie down and rest. --Pearl Bailey


Have you ever wondered what would happen if the world ended on a weekday? Wait, don’t answer that yet. We’ll come back to that. I've noticed that many city streets in Anytown, USA are fairly empty from 7am-1pm on Sundays. There are probably several reasons for that fact. Here are a few non-litmus reasons that I observed:

A) The club-hoppers are pooped and are sleeping off the alcoholic reminisce of the night before.

B) Most criminals—because Saturdays are such busy days for them—are sleeping late on Sundays, probably plotting next week’s strategy sessions.

C) The rest of the nation, particularly the Christian congregation is posted up, repenting in a mega-plex near you. And, this is where life gets real quizzical.


At this point I want to suggest… if your pastor drives an automobile named after a white character on the Jefferson’s, you may want to exit this page now. Go on, I’ll wait. For those still reading....…

The church, ah, the Church…, the worship hall for the flawed and mortal…, the temple to avoid the doom. The sin-less social scene where the congregation gathers to be seen. The Holy Land for the Heavenly band. Just think, if only 144,000 are slated to make it Home, that means three-quarters of the people attending TD Jakes’ annual Mega Fest will be left holding T-shirts that say: … "My friends went to Heaven and all I got was this lousy t-shirt."

On many given Sundays I've sat (window-stationed) at a neighboring eatery and watched Officer Friendly direct thousands of congregational cars, steering them into the secular world that they just spent two hours cleansing themselves from. It is truly an interesting sight. One day a lady stopped in this eatery for a snack and she still had last night’s armband on from Club Underground. I wonder if she’ll “get in" the eternal Home or will she be left with the “in” crowd here on earth? I went to Lithonia, Georgia's Club New Birth once and an actual service broke out!! A good service too, unfortunately most of the so-called “regulars” missed a good word because they saw The Bishop was not preaching that day, so they ran the Ushers over heading for the exits. I don’t think they’ll "get in" with that attitude.

I am sure Martin Luther King Jr. is "in," although he may want to come back and break up the fights that are going down on the mean city streets bearing his name. I know my mom is "in", despite the fact that her son is writing this. One thing I know for sure is, if I don’t make it, it will not be her fault. I hope Mike Tyson makes it "in", he really seems like a nice guy (hardly the criteria)—but his life on earth seems almost JOB-like. Tyson's entire boxing career just seems to be trapped in that on-going church traffic. You see, if just one of the mega-members pulled Iron Mike aside, and told him how much God loves him, instead of feeding him the conditional love the world feeds on, he’d probably "get in." In fact, he still might. How cool would Heaven be if Denzel is there? I’d train for that day. One day, on Meet The Press, Rick Warren (The Purpose Driven Life), said: “It’s not a sin to be rich, the real sin is to die rich.” that quote cannot make the Hilton sisters comfortable. If George Bush "gets in," that simply means that someone adjusted that 144,000 number. I’d love to be on line after him.

I have been studying the difference between "being religious" and "being spiritual." And, from what you've observed above, you can plainly see that I don’t have many good answers—just interesting questions. This only makes my life that much more purposeful. My mission on earth (which is condensed and captured here) is to show how ignorance bubbles when you pass judgment.

Let’s all make a pack today; a pack to help each other make it to Judgment Day, even if it falls on a Wednesday.

1 love,

Ray Lewis

Who Will You Be Rooting For?

“America always does what’s right, once it exhausts all other options”

---Winston Churchill








I imagine it would be hard to capture any one of the world’s cultures and neatly package it into 28 days of history. And, as absurd as the possibility, the reality is, in just 250-plus hours you will start to learn all over again and over again who invented the traffic light—the stories will probably fall short of who is disproportionably pulled-over and most often shot at those lights, but remember this is history, not his story.

During the warm & fuzzy Black February Winter Fest, you’ll read that for the first time in history, there will be two black candidates running for the highest office in the land. No, not the Super Bowl—that’s an event where someone HAS to win. These two candidates will be running for president. Pretty anticlimactic, huh? One of the candidates has absolutely no chance of winning, (Al Sharpton) and the other has a white girl at the Apollo chance, (Barack Obama). Obama’s chances would increase if he married that white girl at the Apollo, but not by much. I believe the black candidate with the best chance of winning is Colin Powell and the fact that he’ll never run is the despondency of American history. Nevertheless, in both cases, Sharpton and Obama’s, merits won’t be the determining factor, as 80% of the Americans have made their decision on those two and the race doesn’t officially begin for another 10 months.

History always gave me an uneasy feeling… mainly because right after you witness the beauty, you are too often reminded of it’s ugly past. Watching Tony Dungy and Lovie Smith re-write the NFL white pages just makes you wonder how much sooner this historical football moment would’ve happened if blatant racism didn’t deny them of the opportunity to begin with.

With all due respect, I could care less who wins the Super Bowl, because once the game is over, neither coach will be asked: “What happened to the middle class?” Or, "Why is it that black people keep getting shot on the same land their forefather’s paved? I imagine Sharpton or Obama would have a better perspective than someone who coaches the Bears or Colts, but (as I stated earlier) 80% of the population will be plugging in their earphones when that answer is revealed.

On Super Bowl Sunday, while Tony and Lovie are battling to see who goes to Disneyland, I will be rooting for someone black to change the landscape of this land. I hope it happens soon because before you know it February will be over and the traffic light will be red again.

1 love,
Ray Lewis

When It's Your Time

"If I had two minutes to live, I'd spend it choking a white man."

--Miles Davis






I have seen some remarkable things in my life, some of them even I find hard to believe.

For example, I went to high school with this really tall, skinny, quiet kid named Ed. Every third period I used to watch the 6’9” Ed walk into math class, duck his head through the door and head straight for the back of the class. The morning ritual usually woke me from a sound sleep. The whole year Ed probably spoke three times—and two of those times were to answer questions about the weather. Kids can be so unoriginal at times.

Four years later--On April Fools Day, in 1985—with Vegas odds at 33-to-1, Ed’s Villanova hoop team beat the famed Georgetown Hoyas in what still stands as one of the greatest upsets in college basketball history. Skinny Ed Pinckney, who had swollen-up by then, was voted the Most Valuable Player. That game ended the college career of sure-fire Hall of Fame inductee, Patrick Ewing. The forecast that day was partly cloudy and, as usual, the weatherman was wrong too—unless of course you were a Georgetown fan.

One day a friend and I was hanging in this night spot on 68street and Broadway, called Sweet Waters. Neither of us had any money, nor apparently did the dozen or so patrons who sat quietly, drink-less. The REALLY REALLY fine vocalist on stage was literally walking around trying to get a rise out of the (loosely termed) crowd. My homie leaned over to me and said; “ If she walks by again, I’m going to get her number.” She did, and he did. They hung out for about a month or so and a couple of years later I moved to Atlanta and fell out of touch. One night, my boy Chris called me devastated as he read the infamous “I’m Tired” note that Phyllis Hyman wrote right before she overdosed on Vodka and sleeping pills. Every time I hear a song by Phyllis I think of that night.

In the early 70’s, this bigheaded English kid used to get beat-up on the mean Bronx streets of New York—mainly because of his British accent. He used to come outside and innocently asked, “Does anyone out here want to ramble?? (which is British for play). The Bronx kids thought he meant rumble and jumped on that free-for-all opportunity. Years later in an Atlanta hotel room Johnnie Cochran conducted one of his last face-to-face print media interviews, which to-date is the highlight of my (loosely termed) journalist career.

In every one of the abovementioned scenarios, the commonality is ordinary people who were given an opportunity… an opportunity to become extraordinary.

This week Oprah Winfrey opened the doors to a theme school in South Africa, affectingly dubbed Dream Girls. From birth, these girls did not have a fraction of the opportunity that we have in America, which simply means their stories are going to be much better than the ones outlined above.

Since you are reading this, it means you are one of the fortunate people on earth whose clock is still ticking.

What will you do with your 60 Minutes?

1 love,
Ray Lewis