What a Weekend!
(or: "The post that sat in
draft mode for 2 days!")
from Sunday(In the photo to the right, taken by Adrian Pingstone in November 2004, a pair of 'human statues' do their thing in London's Jubilee Gardens. The pair remain perfectly motionless for long periods. Even when asked a question, they will not reply.)
Following the young poet's Thursday night meltdown, I was very concerned about Friday's Open Mic at Julius Cafe, and moreso when I arrived and saw no other performers. I made a couple calls to my big guns: Javante and Seven. Ben Miller, Sam Cooper and Hosea Taylor made up the band. The house was full of waiting patrons...
Brandon came with my grandson and my youngest son, as well as Dominique and Teresa. It seemed to start out slow; I didn't think people were feeling my Paul Laurence Dunbar or my William Ernst Hensley, so I did some original Mindstorm verse which seemed to wake them up a little more. Then I brought out the White Lightning.
Actually, he signed his name as Mike G., and he explained to the crowd that was his actual first name and last initial. I didn't give a shit what his name was, White Lightning blew that shit away with some Neo Urban verse for your ass! It took him a minute to warm up, understandable as he was the only non-black in the place (at first). But once he warmed up he rocked that goddamned mic like nobody's business.
Crowd was getting good and warm now. I flipped back with a little more Mindstorm, then brought out Seven, who never lets me down. Seven knocked down a couple pieces, then I hit the crowd with Javonte. He has been blamed by some for closing us down at SPoT Coffee, because of a poem that had some really raw lyrics in it, but I never looked at his poetry as the cause of that situation. However, SPoT management may have used it as an excuse.
Javante ripped some of his unique slam style, preacher style, call-and-response revolutionary shit and now the house was completely lit up. Carol Owens came in strong to break up some of the testosterone all the male poets were laying down and the Friday show was the best to this date, although I know intuitively this is just the beginning....
My last two appearances on the mic, I held my (too long and too heavy) son Jonathan, who was mouthing the words his father said, while the crowd chuckled. Oh, so you wanna be like daddy? You want to be Master of Ceremonies? "Ask the people how they're doing, Jon-Jon."
"How were y'all doin'?" he said and the crowd gave the loudest response of the night. Damn, maybe his does have some MC in him. His dad and older brother are both doing it - why not?
Last night was the culmination of the week's events - a solo performance for the Spring Formal of the Sigma Pi Phi Fraternity. It was held at a pretty nice place, "The Lodge at Woodcliffe" and I sold 11 books and passed out a few dozen business cards. It was the most apprciative audience I've entertained in a pretty long time, and I had a great time.The only unfortunate part is I won't get to see Jon-Jon again before he leaves for Brooklyn. But I was glad to see him, he loves his little nephew, and it was great hanging out with my two oldest sons again, we don't do that often enough.
(finished Monday)
Probably should have saved this rant for another time, but when you're pissed you're pissed.
Robert wants to deep-six the Open Mic on Monroe Ave. He also fired Ciara from Where You At, Lord? (but that part makes sense.) Robert has all the patience Creation gave a fly, which I think lives only six days. We were debating the value of things on the phone when he made a comment that he doesn't think I'm as committed as he is, or that I'm not working as hard - they equate to the same thing in my eyes. "Jahaka, you and me ain't cut from the same cloth."
I tried to remember that Robert's under a lot of stress, with issues that include a crumbling domestic relationship, a delinquent son, hounding creditors, being 300 pages in the red on a book deal for which he's already received an advance, a play that's awesome in concept but is plagued with uncasted roles and uncomitted actors. I tried to remember that, but I blew up at him anyway. Shit, he cast me as The Devil for a reason - I have "a lot of hell in me." It comes out when I'm riled.
How could he say the open mic had failed when we never took time to let any of the ideas germinate, when cross promotion from other venues was still marinading, when its sister night was a juggernaut success? How could he say I'm not working hard when he hasn't even bothered to look at the web site, read the emails, peruse the flyers or bring his over-book ass down to Julius to see how we rock it when it's plan and executed right!
In the middle of my reactive tirade, the connection was lost. Robert later said it was a poorly charged battery. I almost didn't give a shit. But I'm going to keep going to rehearsals, keep promoting the Monroe Avenue venue (for as long as we keep it). However, if the venue doesn't pan out, I'm not about to dump Thursday night as an open mic alternative. There'll be another Thursday night venue if I have to stand on a chair in the middle of the goddamned mall and spit freestyle at sanitation workers!
Okay that feels better!
It also felt good Sunday after work to chill with Jonathan and BJ again, not to mention my olders sons, my nieces and my nephews. We all gathered at Evelyn's house for Sunday dinner. Teresa switched her departure time to make it so JJ could be there. (That was pretty cool - I take back some of the things I thought about her!)
Alright, so it had more ups and downs than the virtual roller coaster at Coney Island. I came out of it okay and (hopefully) some great photos will be emailed back to me.
What a weekend!
posted by JahStorm @ 12:02 PM
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