ChillSpot Online: Our Art is Life

The older I get, the harder it is to withstand the emotional tides that come with life. Used to do it smooth, easy. But now, even the small waves cause me to teeter. Ups are higher - because I know how valuable and rare they are. And lows? Well… Yeah. They can get subterranean. All manner of feeling is more powerful. Every chance is more precious, every moment so much more special and full of hope because it’s so much more apparent how few of them you’ll have. So comes the disappointment of a letdown. Thinking something has the potential to be great; when it never had to opportunity to be anything at all. Deflated? Yeah. Like a hot air balloon.

Hey all: Before I get to the meat of the post, I thought I’d settle a mental battle I’ve had with myself for some time now. The issue? Keeping the names straight between the actors, David Keith and Keith David. I could never be sure which was which, and judging by the entries on google, neither can a lot of other people…

Keith David, born on June 4, 1956, is the brother, who starred in all sorts of films (Platoon, John Carpenter’s “The Thing” and “They Live” are my two favs of his).

David Keith, born on May 8, 1954, is the actor who was the captain in the scene where Carl Brashear nearly loses his leg in “Men of Honor.” So there. If you get confused, me back to this page. Done and done. For me at least…

Sorry for the delay, but here is my mental music dump - which, to some of your disappointment I’m sure - ain’t nothing but my list of classic albums, some sleepers, some just so great as to deserve another mention…

- SWV: The New Beginning
This album for me took the group to the Pantheon of R&B groups. It’s totally solid, and some of the interludes needed four minutes to rock, instead of the seconds they got. Hits: You’re the One, Use Your Heart … Sleeper tracks: When This Feeling Comes, That’s What I’m Here For.

- Aya: Strange Flower
This sweet-sounding songstress flew under the radar, but the album, once you hear it never will. In the subcategory of ambient R&B, Aya feels like a soulful lullaby on most tracks, but never lapses too far into sleepy time to bore. She happens to sound a lot like Amel Larrieux, if you can hold that against her. Hits: Do What You Want, 45 Parade Place, Sleepers: all the rest, actually, since this whole album is a sleeper pick.

- Havana: Life: Living in Fearless Emotion
I stumbled across her while following the crumbs Aya left. Havana voice is angelic, if not a bit mousy at times. But it’s excusable with the on-point production on most of the songs, including the title track, with the beat laid down by Nicolay of Foreign Exchange (who is one of my favs of all time for beats, for real). Also of the ambient R&B genre, this album won’t raise your heart rate much, but it does strike a chord that feels good throughout. Hits: Yeah, Life. Other tracks of note: Feel My Love, True Luv.

Freeze fools, S to the 3rd is back. The last month has been a wild ride, and I’m not about to get into it all that much but to say that I’m truly better for it.

So what the hell I got to say? Nothing and a bit of everything, so just lemme dump some ill shit out my mind into this tiny corner of the world:

- I’m glad Michael Vick is back. Yeah, he fucked up some dogs, and let people down and that shit was wrong and evil, BUT, he went to jail, lost multimillions, and STILL has to kiss animal lovers asses for maybe the rest of his life, yet PETA still manages to use the publicity of his signing a deal to push their own causes? Let’s not go forgetting that the group is known for going to the edge to get pub (naked celebs on billboards? yeah, that’s a group practicing modesty). Will that stop hypocritical PETA people from fuckin with him all season? Nope. He made this bed, yes, but there is such a thing as beating a dead horse. You think PETA, of all organizations, would know this.

- It’s NFL time, boys and girls! And I’m freakin ready for it. Even though in this space you’ll read a bunch of pity shit about my hometown Browns team, I’m still glad to watch some games. I might even buy a Madden videogame for the first time in years … might.

- I am not a journalist. I am a writer. Journalism kills the urge to write. Thankfully, it also kills careers … namely mine. I’m not mad. Well, I’m mad at just this one thing: The fact that businesses make you swear a blood oath to stay in a spot, all the while knowing that they’ll cut your ass at a moments pause. That’s bullshit for sho. Turncoat ass shit, and yet we lie. We all lie. They lie, we lie, and it’s like a relationship where both people have cheated, and neither trusts the other and - like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie at the dinner table in Mr. and Mrs. Smith - it’s only one bad move away from somebody getting fucked up.

- Don’t fuck with the eBay gods, or they will fuck you dead. I nearly bought a motorcycle. I was the high bid for days, and then, right when my wallet was screaming HELP ME, someone outbid me, sparing me the personal torment. I love eBay. It’s been a blast discovering this wildly exciting site, but I mocked the Gods, and they showed me that eBay is not child’s play. But, like a fool at the roulette wheel, I’ll return for more … heh heh heh…

It’s been just over 24 hours since he died, and I’m still kinda hoping it’s not true. I didn’t know the man personally, so I cannot vouch for his character, but I can say with sincerity that it was a pleasure to have shared the Earth with Michael Joseph Jackson. I don’t believe in idol worship, and I don’t espouse to zealousness either. I don’t plan on building a shrine, simply admiring a talent so unique that it may never been seen again in my lifetime. That’s Michael Jackson. He was timeless BEFORE he died. His music endured his tribulations. Even HE could not undo that.

There is a piece on the LA Times Web site, written by Robert Hilburn, a reporter who covered and knew Michael, that is very telling. A quote:

In the 1981 interview, he told me, “My real goal is to fulfill God’s purpose. I didn’t choose to sing or dance. But that’s my role, and I want to do it better than anybody else. I still remember the first time I sang in kindergarten class. I sang ‘Climb Every Mountain,’ and everyone got so excited.
“It’s beautiful at the shows when people join together. It’s our own little world. For that hour and a half, we try to show there is hope and goodness. It’s only when you step back outside the building that you see all the craziness.”

Michael likely fought with the success he reaped. In the LA Times piece, he says the album after Thriller would sell twice as many, even though Thriller was the top-selling album of all time. And what must life be like when it’s apparent that you’ve already done the greatest thing you’ll ever do?

He was a lonely, and stressed man. I believe in the end, all the effort to be the best, all the internalizing and pain, loneliness and pull from those around him who existed only to feed off him, all these things conspired to claim his life energy, then finally his life.

Rest easy, Michael, your fight is over.

I just read this little tidbit, and it rings so strongly that I wanted to share it. The Cavs, in passing on tying the Boston Celtics record 41-1 home standard, may have inadvertently contributed to their own demise in the playoffs. Read on:

2 things the Cavaliers have to be wondering
2. Should they have rested the starters in the final game of the regular season?

Had they won that home game — they lost in overtime to Philadelphia as LeBron James and other starters watched — the bottom half of the East draw would have been changed, matching the 76ers against Boston in the first round. The argument can be made that the Celtics might have had an easier time against the Sixers than they ultimately had against the Bulls, who took them to seven enervating games. That would have left the Celtics fresher going into the second round against Orlando. Would the Celtics have had the energy to close out their 3-2 lead against Orlando? Would Cleveland have used its home-court advantage to knock off Boston — the Cavaliers having matched up better against the Celtics than against the Magic — and would they be in the Finals as a result? This is all highly far-fetched, but these are the things that keep executives and coaches up late at night after the kind of bad loss that Cleveland suffered in the conference finals against Orlando.

1. What could they have done against Dwight Howard?

The young Magic center had 40 points in the decisive Game 6 against Cleveland, which has been out of character for his postseason as a whole. In the second round, the Celtics held him to 16.4 points on 11.7 field-goal attempts, and through four games of the Finals, the Lakers’ harassing team defense has limited him to 16.5 points on 8.5 attempts.

Against the Cavaliers’ relatively passive interior defense, however, Howard managed 25.8 points on 13.8 attempts. Was this an issue of personnel and mismatches, or was the problem in the schemes? The likely answer is that both sides must be addressed. But I don’t believe for a second that coach Mike Brown is in danger of losing his job. He was Coach of the Year for winning 66 games with a team that was viewed in the preseason as lacking firepower around James. If you fire him, who becomes his replacement? Good luck finding someone who can seamlessly improve on the foundation Brown has established. It isn’t going to happen.

Okay, the Cavaliers lost to a better team. I can accept that. But something inside me just won’t let some other things slide, so I’m about to put them all on blast, partly for therapy, partly cause I feel like it.

- LeBron not congratulating the Magic or talking to the media
Who gives a shit? Alright! Let’s take this from another perspective. You go to work. The job hires another person who does exactly the same thing you do, only they’re younger, prettier, stronger and smarter. When that person gets the promotion you thought was yours for years, what do you do? This is your LIFE remember? You might pretend to be gracious, but in reality, you want that person to get sucked into a jet engine, right? Well, for LeBron, basketball is a JOB. Not a game, but a JOB. So he didn’t feel like kissing ass while the opponents rub their balls all over him and the fans cuss him out? So WHAT! Here’s LeBron’s take on it …

“It’s hard for me to congratulate somebody after you just lose to them,” he said. “I’m a winner. It’s not being a poor sport or anything like that. If somebody beats you up, you’re not going to congratulate them. That doesn’t make sense to me. I’m a competitor. That’s what I do. It doesn’t make sense for me to go over and shake somebody’s hand.”

- The other players
They all suck. Fuck the sugarcoating, they suck as a unit. They suck individually. They suck. Watch me break them down:

Mo Williams
A nice player when surrounded by other stronger, taller players, but not a second star. And now, a choke artist who sounded glad just to be there.
Delontae West
A really good seventh man, but not a starter. Defensively strong, but only an inch taller than Gary Coleman, who is the same height as Mo Williams. The NBA is a big man’s game, these midgets get stomped. And not an offensive force … a lot like …
Daniel ‘Boobie’ Gibson
He has become just like many other “shooters” to come along since LeBron came into the league. Remember Jason Kapono? Trajan Langdon? Shannon Brown? Damon Jones? Luke Jackson? Dujuan Wagner? J.R. Bremer? No? They’ve all come and gone since 2003. And they all were supposed to do the same thing Boobie’s not doing - spread the damn floor! So Boobie, minus a ridiculous night a few years ago against the Pistons, you’ve taken your place along those other names in Cavs history … welcome home kid.
Sasha Pavlovic
The poorest man’s Larry Hughes. Sort of can shoot. Sort of athletic. Sort of a good defender. Add all that together and you know what you get? A DAMN BUM.
Anderson Verejao
He’s what the Bulls’ Joakim Noah aspires to be. A cracked out flopper, a nuisance, a benign Dennis Rodman, who has very few skills beyond that.
Ben Wallace
A walking corpse of his former self. Can no longer bang with the bigs. Hustles no more. Is allergic to offense. And is the price we paid to get rid of Hughes. $20 mill… Without his afro he’s not even fun to look at anymore.
Zydrunas Ilgauskas
He’s like your old uncle. He’s cool, you give him mad respect for all he’s done, but you pity him because he hasn’t quite figured out that he ain’t the pimp he used to be. Big Z is a center, who doesn’t play in the middle anymore. Remember when he had post moves? Gone. What about when he could get 6 tap backs on rebounds to keep a possession alive? Not so much anymore. He’s a hindrance to the game unless he’s hitting his long range shots, but he doesn’t even do that so much. Hang it up big guy. We’ll put you in the rafters, for whatever that means…
Wally Sczerbiak
He’s never EVER been a good fit. He never hit threes like he was supposed to, so he should easily (and rightfully) fit into the category with Boobie, but for the fact that he was expected to do more than hit a three. He’s tall enough to be helpful, but he’s about as athletic as Joey Chestnut, you know, the champion eater? Fortunately his contract is up. See ya.

I won’t rip Joe Smith, he’s been ripped enough as a former No. 1 pick.

Does that cover everyone who matters?

Oh the coach!

Mike Brown
He’s a great cheerleader, which is good for a coach who wants to keep his job. But his skills as a motivator are still up in the air. Notice how much the networks showed Stan VanGundy? Never once did you see a Mike Brown huddle shot. Why? Because it’s not good TV, which means it can’t be motivating to a player? Okay, so Tony Dungy, former coach of the Indianapolis Colts, didn’t yell and scream, but he has something Brown lacks: presence. He seems like he really has no idea what he’s doing, still, and he’s now got Coach of the Year on his resume…

The future
The Cavs need more athletes. Preferably in the 6′6″ range, with speed and a jumper. And one decent big man (like hmm … Carlos Boozer?). The Magic series, as Charles Barkley said, was too hard for the Cavs to win. LeBron had to use too much of himself to carry the team, which was too willing to ride along on his coattails. Hence that game six stinker(?) where he seemed unfocused, and still had 25 7 and 7. All in all, the team overachieved, so there’s no need to be mad that they lost without a title. Cleveland is Cleveland, after all, so people will say this was a bad year, but it was the one of the greatest sporting seasons the city has ever seen, so savor it, and beg for changes or it’ll be more of the same next year.

Hey beautiful!
I was just thinking about you.
How pretty your skin is in the morning,
how your eyes glow in the sun,
and how sexy fine you are.
You’re the woman of my dreams,
and I am totally in lust with you.
I would let you eat my pussy,
while I was eating yours.
I would do your nails for you,
And bathe you in Moet.
I’d buy you the finest things,
Cars, you’d have three.
Clothes? Only the rarest ones for you.
I’d give you gifts just for winking at me.
Did you just wink at me?
Aww, here, have a tennis bracelet!
It’s not enough carats? Really?
I’m sorry … I thought 5 would please you.
Let me fetch someone to make this better for you.
Please don’t be offended by this,
But I’m gonna kiss you.
I’m gonna kiss you right on the lips.
Those soft supple lips.
Muah!
So sweet.
Is that a blemish on your cheek?
Oh shit! Baby, lemme put some concealer on it.
Wait a minute. Baby, your panties.
They’re cutting into your waist. Didn’t you used to wear small?
Did they shrink in the wash? They did.
I know it. But your belly IS hanging over them a lil.
Girl, don’t worry about it. Niggaz love a little pouch.
What you say? They love YOUR pouch?
Well no shit! Your toe nail clippings are worth more to men
Than most women’s whole bodies, naked!
You are an angel, and any man who don’t see that
Is too dumb to ever deserve you. Most men are too dumb.
They don’t know who you are. And that’s their own problem
And their own loss.
You think it’s weird that I’m in your head?
I know, it is huh. How we always seem to be thinking
The same things, we crave the same things,
Take the same things from men,
All that? It’s like we’re the same person.
But I don’t believe I could love myself as much as I love you.
It’s just not possible. Did I tell you I love you?
I love you too.

I was THIS CLOSE to my dream.
This close to my hope.
But I wasn’t really close at all.
There was an invisible chasm between me and them,
and I didn’t notice it till I was plummeting off the edge,
my face flapping in the wind, my eyes watery and red,
and the only thing left was the inevitable collision.
The only thing I’d expected to collide with was bliss,
A single kiss after the pastor pronounces us man and wife,
No strife, no stress, just me and he,
Arm in arm, the world in awe …
All that is in the hopper now,
How can I walk away from my dreams
And be forced to face my nightmares?
It’s there too, still taunting me,
Years after grinding me into a paste for his bread.
He’s still tormenting me, and I can’t shed him.
Why? Why does he matter? Why does he affect me so?
I don’t know, or maybe I don’t care to.
But I know I might have just watched my husband
Walk out of my life, and at the very least,
our bond may never be the same
Even if he does come back. I’m still getting used to the idea
Of him being gone …
And here this fool is, STILL pulling me under water,
Still muffling my screams for freedom,
Or is that my OWN hand over my mouth?

Look. I know this little series has been all O network and shit, all women all the time, but I got shit on my mind too, and Spike TV won’t quite get it. I thought I’d submit this so that someone out there might learn from it, or be inspired in some way by it. Well, naw, that’s bullshit. Really, this is my confession, except that I’m bragging, so I guess I’m not really repenting, but moreso acknowledging the abomination within me, in hopes that putting the words into space will calm it a little…

I devour women. Not in the Dalmer sort of way, but more in the psychological Hannibal Lecter (okay so maybe that’s not a great example?) sense. It’s like they WANT to be ruled by me. So I let em walk off their own cliffs. This is not without backlash … sometimes they awaken and are a little pissed about how they played themselves, and then they come at me. It takes more energy to contain their misplaced rage than it ever did to attain their weak minds in the first place.

So basically, I’m tryin to change my diet. I’d like to slow down and chew my food, and actually appreciate the care that went into making it. If that means I eat less, then fine … cause I’m damn tired of indigestion…

You know the drill, just my random musings … here we go!

Kiss Ass, Cop!
The cop who harassed NFL player Ryan Moats and his family knew he was on camera and STILL acted like an ass. No forgiving that. His mother-in-law is still dead, and you’re grabbing your own balls as the authority?!?! Kiss ass fool, and pay the price.

Um, your face?
Lil Kim, currently strutting on Dancing with The Stars, looks a lot different than she did in her Junior Mafia days. The weight she picked up in jail didn’t help, but there’s just something not quite right around her forehead and cheeks, eh? In one of her naughtiest lyrics, she once bragged she could “make a Sprite Can disappear in my mouth.” All imagery aside, it’d likely be an improvement over her look now…

(Sidebar: you think Sprite was pleased or upset that their name was used in such a way? Did they pay her for the product placement spot?)

Like he never left
Tiger Woods won his first tournament since returning from a serious knew injury at Bay Hill, hitting a 15 foot putt to seal the deal. The only problem with Tiger? He and caddy Steve Williams STILL give the most awkward high-fives around, even though they’ve had plenty of practice. You think they’d try it a couple times in real life? I’m not saying coreograph it like Lebron’s pregame photo routine, but at least enough times so they can actually SLAP HANDS firmly! No one has likely told Tiger this, or else, with his competitive vigor, he’d have them doing a six-piece brohand-shake, with the reverse foot kick like Kid-n-Play…