Earlier this week, I saw a friend request from years ago. It was from when I was registered on social media but not on social media, so I never realized it was there until recently. I looked at it for a few moments before moving on. As I skimmed my timeline, I went back to that invite.
“Brian, wake up! Wake up! Let’s go!” my father said as he shook me from my slumber. Pop always had things under control, so I could tell from the excitement and the tad bit of nervousness in his voice that this was serious. I woke up to see him helping my pregnant mother to the door as my brother hurriedly grabbed my arm and both of our coats – his was the green one with the gold and white stripe that went halfway down the sleeve; mine the brown one with the hood. “Mom’s about to have the baby! C’mon man, hurry up!” I was in my pajamas. And sleepy. Hurry up meant nothing to me. Continue reading “A Not-So Simple Request”
It doesn’t make sense.
I was sitting outside this Saturday morning in Panamá enjoying a fresh cup of coffee, listening to some morning jazz, getting my thoughts together for the day. As you might imagine, birds are singing and aside from the occasional bark from Jojo, (who got up early with me and sits at my feet), it’s quiet. It’s relaxing. It’s necessary.
I decide to break my personal protocol, interrupt the music, and look at my timeline. I know I shouldn’t. Not right now at least. Not only that but…how disrespectful is it to interrupt Miles?
But I do.
There it is again. Englewood. Right there in the Chi. Just two days ago, I was reading about the same area and what occurred there. The backdrop of jazz is in such contradiction to the video I am watching that I decide to turn the music off. It’s not fitting. It’s out of place. Normally, I can find beauty in contradictions – from an artist’s standpoint, that is. There is nothing beautiful about what I am watching. This is not art and the contradiction is repugnant. Continue reading “Englewood Doesn’t Deserve This”