This is my attempt to do some traditional blogging, and share what has been happening in the fields world for the last couple of days. I just got back from Washington D.C. where I met two of my best friends from law school. My boy Tony (Yes he is still a house negro who prefers to prosecute only blacks folks, but I am working on him), and Ced. They were in town for the National Association for Equal Opportunity In Higher Education (NAFEO) conference, and invited your boy down to hang out.
So I headed down Friday night in blizzard like conditions, and unfortunately, what should have been a two hour ride, took me damn near three and a half hours. But it was worth the trip. When I got to the Hyatt on H street my boys were all hanging out in the hotel lobby and shooting the breeze with other delegates from the conference. My man Tony was talking to Judge Reggie Walton (Remember him? He presided over the Scooter Libby trial) a cool guy, who although he was appointed by George Bush, seems to have his head and heart firmly in the fields. Don't ask how I know for sure, but let's just say the good Judge likes his Remy Martins. So the field chatted with him for a minute, I made sure I complimented him on how he conducted the trial. I always believed that a good Judge should be like a good referee in a basketball game; you shouldn't even notice he is there. Once you start noticing the Judge-insert the idiot from the Anna Nicole trial here-you know there is a problem.
So that was really cool meeting my man. Not to mention all that other brothers and sisters there from various corporations and government entities. All folks who were involved with programs to help mentor and guide young minority students. So being down there with all those positive well meaning people was nice. The NAFEO people seem to really have their sh** together.
Even though I was tired from my drive down, I still found time to hang out in D.C. Friday night with another one of my buddies from law school, who has made the District his home. Gino is a Republican, and my man started his own political consulting firm down there. Needless to say, we argued about all types of sh** the entire fu****g night. In the end though, we both agreed to disagree. We later went to the water front section of town and were supposed to go to a spot called H2O's (Hey what else are you going to call a spot on the waterfront?) But there was a serious line to get in, and the field doesn't do lines too well. So we hit some other spot (Ozios [sic]) until it was time to call it a night.
The next day was better. We toured the Smithsonian, watched the anti war protest, (the field heckled some pro war protesters. (Why is it that the pro war protesters always seem to remind me of the anti civil rights protesters of past years?) Then my boys, (Ced and Tony) decided that they wanted to trace their roots. So we headed to the National Archives museum, and although they seemed to really get into it, yours truly spent damn near three hours doing nothing. My peeps are from Jamaica, and unfortunately there was no record of them there. But Tony and Ced's research paid off and they got some nice info on their people and were able to trace their family histories back to the late 1800's.
Finally, we went back to the hotel, where my man Ced and I argued about the importance of appearance to young black males. A discussion brought on by some young heads in full hip hop regalia lounging in the hotel lobby. I thought it was cool if they wore their jeans slightly baggy with some Tims now and then. Ced, a military brat, did not. He thought those mother f*****s should have their sh** together at all times. "You never know when a future employer might be looking". We hung out later in a sports bar, watched the NCAA's and toasted with some St. Patty's day revelers. I like D.C., always have, I get a nice vibe every time I am down there. There were some dime pieces in the house, and the field made some small talk with a dime or two, nothing serious, just enjoying the view more than anything else. A sister from the conference joined us, and we talked about every thing from the problems facing black people, and America as a whole, to the unique challenges and responsibilities we all have as black professionals and mentors, just trying to make sure that our future generation does not get lost.
So now it's Sunday morning, and the field is heading up I-95. I Just dropped my boys off at Reagan Airport (damn I hate saying that!)for their trip back to Louisiana. It's a beautiful morning; hard to believe that just two days ago, there was rain, sleet, and snow, whipping all over the freaking highway. But unlike my trip on Friday, this is going to be a beautiful ride home. I am blasting my man Buju Banton on the CD player, and I am enjoying the sun and the fact that spring is just a few days away. I am thinking about all the positive people I met at the conference, and all of the great ideas they had. I am thinking about my boys and the s**t we always get into when we hook up. (You didn't think I told you everything did you?).
So I headed down Friday night in blizzard like conditions, and unfortunately, what should have been a two hour ride, took me damn near three and a half hours. But it was worth the trip. When I got to the Hyatt on H street my boys were all hanging out in the hotel lobby and shooting the breeze with other delegates from the conference. My man Tony was talking to Judge Reggie Walton (Remember him? He presided over the Scooter Libby trial) a cool guy, who although he was appointed by George Bush, seems to have his head and heart firmly in the fields. Don't ask how I know for sure, but let's just say the good Judge likes his Remy Martins. So the field chatted with him for a minute, I made sure I complimented him on how he conducted the trial. I always believed that a good Judge should be like a good referee in a basketball game; you shouldn't even notice he is there. Once you start noticing the Judge-insert the idiot from the Anna Nicole trial here-you know there is a problem.
So that was really cool meeting my man. Not to mention all that other brothers and sisters there from various corporations and government entities. All folks who were involved with programs to help mentor and guide young minority students. So being down there with all those positive well meaning people was nice. The NAFEO people seem to really have their sh** together.
Even though I was tired from my drive down, I still found time to hang out in D.C. Friday night with another one of my buddies from law school, who has made the District his home. Gino is a Republican, and my man started his own political consulting firm down there. Needless to say, we argued about all types of sh** the entire fu****g night. In the end though, we both agreed to disagree. We later went to the water front section of town and were supposed to go to a spot called H2O's (Hey what else are you going to call a spot on the waterfront?) But there was a serious line to get in, and the field doesn't do lines too well. So we hit some other spot (Ozios [sic]) until it was time to call it a night.
The next day was better. We toured the Smithsonian, watched the anti war protest, (the field heckled some pro war protesters. (Why is it that the pro war protesters always seem to remind me of the anti civil rights protesters of past years?) Then my boys, (Ced and Tony) decided that they wanted to trace their roots. So we headed to the National Archives museum, and although they seemed to really get into it, yours truly spent damn near three hours doing nothing. My peeps are from Jamaica, and unfortunately there was no record of them there. But Tony and Ced's research paid off and they got some nice info on their people and were able to trace their family histories back to the late 1800's.
Finally, we went back to the hotel, where my man Ced and I argued about the importance of appearance to young black males. A discussion brought on by some young heads in full hip hop regalia lounging in the hotel lobby. I thought it was cool if they wore their jeans slightly baggy with some Tims now and then. Ced, a military brat, did not. He thought those mother f*****s should have their sh** together at all times. "You never know when a future employer might be looking". We hung out later in a sports bar, watched the NCAA's and toasted with some St. Patty's day revelers. I like D.C., always have, I get a nice vibe every time I am down there. There were some dime pieces in the house, and the field made some small talk with a dime or two, nothing serious, just enjoying the view more than anything else. A sister from the conference joined us, and we talked about every thing from the problems facing black people, and America as a whole, to the unique challenges and responsibilities we all have as black professionals and mentors, just trying to make sure that our future generation does not get lost.
So now it's Sunday morning, and the field is heading up I-95. I Just dropped my boys off at Reagan Airport (damn I hate saying that!)for their trip back to Louisiana. It's a beautiful morning; hard to believe that just two days ago, there was rain, sleet, and snow, whipping all over the freaking highway. But unlike my trip on Friday, this is going to be a beautiful ride home. I am blasting my man Buju Banton on the CD player, and I am enjoying the sun and the fact that spring is just a few days away. I am thinking about all the positive people I met at the conference, and all of the great ideas they had. I am thinking about my boys and the s**t we always get into when we hook up. (You didn't think I told you everything did you?).
"..When mama spend her last and send you go class never ever you play. It's a competitive world for low budget people, spending a dime while earning a nickel"
I wonder when Buju will drop his next album? His sh** is sounding real good right about now.
