Banter on Tulips and a Tribe Called Quest, Jay-Z and John Coltrane, Outkast and Othello.


If I Ruled the World...

Now playing: Nas feat. Lauryn Hill, “If I Ruled the World”

If I Ruled the World…

Work days would start at noon and end at 4, in time for Oprah and to catch the subway before the evening rush.

"A Different World" would STILL BE ON. (As I see it, Whitley and Dwayne would have kids that would be like cousins to Ron’s. Shaza would come back to be with Freddie and Kim would be living in a bangin’ crib and practicing medicine on the Vineyard! Albeit, while rolling in a … you guessed it, burgundy Range Rover.)

Every Tuesday would be the first day of spring.

The stankety stank “lady” I sit next to at work would have to undergo mandatory employee “ghettosity adjustment training.” She would also have to come in with a real hairdo and not be allowed to sport a raccoon slung from a hair elastic. (I too am for the ethical treatment of animals. Lol.)

I would marry a man with Idris Elba’s looks, Dave Chappelle’s sense of humor, Will Downing’s voice and Sen. Barack Obama’s intellect.

I would go to the gym everyday and twice on Sundays.

Winter would not exist. At all. In any form.

At no point in time would close talkers be allowed to come within five feet of me for a conversation. For the ones with repugnant breath, an alarm attached to my earrings would go off if they crossed said limit. (At that point a midget would emerge from my desk drawer to handcuff them and take them off to Sing Sing.)

There would be a direct monorail from my house to Bloomingdale’s.

Every restaurant would make lovely crème brulee!

They would give awards for good Scattergories players. (I swear I would win. Try me suckahs! Lol.)

They would actually have pots of gold at the end of rainbows. And unicorns. I mean, you don’t know how disappointed I was to learn that they didn’t exist in kindergarten. It was like, “What? What do you mean?!” Lol.

Instead of setting us back 10,000 years as a people, the likes of Trina and the Ying Yang twins would band together and use their ill-gotten lucre to actually try to help educate some of their non-English speaking brethren. Actually, if the twins would just enroll in an “English as a Second Language” class, that would be a good start. I’d be happy.


We Be Clubbin'

Now playing: "Da Art of Storytellin", OutKast/ "Da Butt", E.U.

So Friday, as the workday ended and I prepared for the second leg of my twice daily hour and 20 minute commute from midtown (sometimes I feel Harriet Tubman had nothing on me!), I had a little conversation with myself. It went a little something like this...

Mahogany: So what shall I do for fun tonight? Self, now remember think long and hard. Come up with a REALLY good idea okay?
Self: How about I go to bed early, like 8 pm?
Mahogany: Word is bond. Sounds fun to me...

*cue the breakdancing crickets here*

So as the evening chill becomes more and more unbearable for "tropical me" this conversation seems to be occurring more often. Seems like I'm on the express train to becoming an old woman quick, fast and in a hurry. Argh...

Luckily, my friends, knowing my general ethos on wintertime socializing, habitually stage interventions. (Shout out to Sawruh La who came through this time around!). Last night, La allowed no excuses from me and made sure I was one among the Jersey crew heading out to a winter white Philly shindig thrown by the oh-so-gorgeous brothas of Kappa Alpha Psi. Yes, I was asleep in the car on the way there, but that's not the point. Lol. I can't remember the last time I cut such a rug and had a fab time! (Oh yeah, it was a wedding... ahem, in May). Anyways, I did totally step out in "grown and sexy" fashion, bronze wedge heels and all. (*Pause* LOL!! Okay, Totally kidding about that last pronouncement, because I soooo hate that term. What is the world coming to when Carefree Curl Babyface can pronounce himself "grown and sexy"? It's sort of like calling yourself "classy"... if you have to say it, you probably aren't. Further illustrative reading/listening: Trina's "Glamorest Life")

Anyways, I truly felt the Good Lord look kindly upon us as we all boogie oogie oogied, not allowing any of us falling through a hole in the wood planked dance floor of an otherwise trendy nightspot. From the Black Sheep to Vanity to Slick Rick, we.got.down.

While I can't say that I'll be out and about every weekend before spring, it's nice to make the scene every now and again. And nice to know you have friends who will drag you out if you don't...

Back to knitting, oatmeal and "60 Minutes" :)


Green is the color

I know, I go from preachy to silly... so sue me, I didn't have enough sleep last night :)

Your Heart Is Green

Love completes you, but that doesn't mean you seek it out.
When love comes your way, you integrate it peacefully into the rest of you life.

Your flirting style: Laid back

Your lucky first date: Walking around aimlessly and talking

Your dream lover: Is both enthusiastic and calm

What you bring to relationships: Balance


No Longer Pure

I finally did it.

Admittedly, I felt dirty. Walking out of the store, I felt like I left a piece of my inside. A piece of me that began with Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam, a piece that got mixed up on the mike with Q-Tip and my Midnight Marauders cassette tape. A piece of me that danced with Kid and Play and Heavy D clad in pink and purple leg warmers and a sky blue headband, pony tail to the side. Lol


A while back I posted about the inherent evil of these little plastic devices.
See "Bucking the Force."And while, I'm much too stubborn (read: "hard-headed") to recant anything at all that I wrote (oddly enough, I still agree to some extent with our music's place as status symbol rather than communal property), I must admit that this little credit card-sized music device is the best thing since red Koolaid, Garbage Pail Kids cards and white boots on Rick James! Bought at a "huster's price" of $199? Sadly, yesssss. Looks about as sturdy as a future Flavor Flav marriage? Yessss. But, as Whitney loves the pipe, like Tina loved Ike, so am I wedded to this thing.

Every day, without fail, it takes me from George Benson's "The World is a Ghetto" to Talib Kweli's "The Blast" to Diana Ross' "Touch Me in the Morning". Express train, no local stops. On the way home from work, there are "Disco Nights" courtesy of GQ and "Never Can Say Goodbye", brought by my local sponsor, the Hot Buttered Soulman Mista Isaac Hayes.

About two weeks ago, after my CD player skipped for the umpteenth time while playing Curtis Mayfield's "Move on Up" and getting my jog on, I resolved to upgrade. After looking at several PC magazines that reviewed mp3 players, I decided that Apple seemed to have the best reivews. So, I drove to a New Jersey land of the pristine melaninless shops (give you a hint: no one around had an "eesha" component to their names) and entered the store aiming to buy an iPod shuffle. As John Steinbeck wrote, "The best laid plans of mice and men..."

After much thought, I punked out and decided I could not be a third-class iPod citizen, as my fellow subway riders would openly scoff at my inferior device. I made my concerns known to the very kind salesman who said, "There's no shame in the Shuffle." I said, "But alas, I work in New York City." He laughed, nodded and said, "We'll they're just a bunch of iPod snobs up there anyway." I stood, gazing at the mulititude of black and white shiny new Nanos and wondered if they really were equal to their littler siblings, who stuffed in a store corner sans their own display, were segregated, seemingly as "3/5ths of an MP3".

I debated and delayed it. And then, deeming it appropriate in regard to my ongoing quest to sell out for the filthy lucre, I decided to *cough* join "the force". I make no apologies. Lol. (You will not get me to admit I am on the right path, as I still believe Apple is engaged in some sort of secret mass mind control tactics.) But, when I play old Michael-Lisa Lisa-Stevie-and Earth Wind and Fire, it seems that you could tell me nothing.

And so, on I rock.