In My Write Mind

It was the way that halter top embraced her curves. The way her bare shoulders looked in the light. The way her designer jeans had me making designs on getting closer to her.

It was all working that night: the MAC brand lip gloss, the flowing hair, the smile that was so bright and sincere, the bartender had to ask her to close her mouth in order to keep the bar lowly lit.

It was an August night, which meant it was hot. Our eyes met. My heart fluttered. It was a secret meeting, a rendezvous of the highest order. Two souls that probably weren’t meant to be together forever, but for that night … for that ONE night when it’s all working, when the weather and food and conversation are equally hot … spontaneity takes over.

And there’s nothing that you won’t do …

(more…)

All righty, here we go. Another year, another BET Awards show. Another chance for us to see the network put on its pomp and circumstance, welcoming the best in music, athletics and entertainment to the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles, California.

And of course, I was there watching, riding solo this year, covering it all in what has become an annual running diary. I had to. I only watch BET a few times a year, mostly one Saturday a month around noon to see which aspiring rapper is holding court on “Freestyle Fridays.”

And then the awards show. That’s it.

Not sure what to expect as I settle in for the evening. They promised that this one will be the best one yet. We shall see. Ready? Herrrrre we go!

(more…)

That’s me.

And not so much Mr. “Let’s-talk-on-the-phone-til-all-hours-about-any-and-everything-just-because” Telephone Man, either. Hellus Nous. That’s never been me. I get on the phone, discuss the haps, then get off the phone.

Dat’s it.

I’d be described as more of a Mr. “Holy-crap-that-phone’s-got-bells-and-whistles-and-I-need-it-in-my-life-right-now” Telephone Man.

Yeah, I likes the gadgets.

And that’s why the Sidekick was just right for me. It had email, messenger, a camera, speakerphone and a funky (albeit bulky) design that I loved. We were inseperable. Literally joined at the hip. To quote a pre-pubescent Peter Brady, I treated that Sidekick “like a, like a … queen! (said with a shriek)”

Seriously, you know how a person is identified by something? Like George Burns and his cigars? Dave Chappelle and his weed? Eddie Murphy and his transvestites?!?!??

Well, that was me and my Sidekick. She was my ho. “Look for me!!!” Oh, sorry. I was having a Jay-Z/Beyonce “Bonnie and Clyde ‘03″ flashback. Sigh.

By now, you will all notice how I’ve been using past tense. How, when I refer to my Sidekick, it’s ‘were’ and ‘was’ … instead of ‘is’.

Yeah, it’s gone (R.I.P., Kicky 2004 - 06). And without it, I’ve been like a teenaged Bobby Brown, i.e., “this situation’s blowing my mind.”

Wanna hear about it, here it go … sigh.

(more…)