بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Ma Beautiful, Beloved and Asiatic Black Bebies
The Sister Captain is feeling really down right now.
I had a good weekend filled with good music, dancing, a lot of sun and relaxation but something very important, to me, at least, became very apparent this weekend.
All my life I’ve wanted people my age to dance together like my parents and their contemporaries danced together. When I was growing up, we danced together but not together. We stood in front of each other and each did our own separate moves. Unless we were slow-dancing but that’s not really dancing, it’s more like moving side to side while you’re hugging.
I wanted to dance with my partner leading me and twirling me around and pulling me close then spinning me back out again like the older folks used to dance.
Well, sometime between this weekend and the last time I went to a dance club, that is exactly what happened.
The popular way of dancing, it seems now, is for couples to dance together, like I’ve always dreamed.
I owe it to a combination of the movie “La La Land,” or whatever it was called and “Dancing With The Stars.”
I first noticed it when I went to the Central Avenue Jazz Festival, but that is usually frequented by older people anyway, so naturally they still dance like that. Admittedly, I did see a younger woman dancing like that but I just attributed it to being at the festival.
But Friday night, when I went to see The Boogaloo Assassins, ALL of the couples were dancing like that, and I was so depressed I could hardly stand it.
It just pointed out that my dream has come true but I don’t have a partner anymore.
And Zawji is such a good dancer, it just made my misery worse. The irony.
I wouldn’t think about letting another man hold and touch me in such an intimate fashion. Besides, Muslims are instructed not to dance with non-Muslims.
Then to make matters worse, (I thought maybe it was just the type of music [Latin] that prompted people to dance together like that), when I went to the Promenade last night, I was greeted with a dance party of about fifty or more couples dancing in that style. This is definitely a “new breed” of dancers.
All I could do was gawk and feel sorry for myself.
But I learned to just cry on the inside.
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So, I had a good time dancing at the Boogaloo show, but Saturday!
They kept saying their name, “The New Breed Brass Band,” and if you didn’t know, you would by the time they finished. And before the show, I kept forgetting the name of the band but I will never forget it again.
They put on such a good show!!! I danced from start to finish. I had to remember how to Second Line, but once I got it, it was on and poppin’!
I like how they played New Orleans Jazz but they infused it with Straight-Ahead AND Latin Jazz.
But the best part, by far, was when they started playing “Gin & Juice.” 😉
Sometimes it’s hard to recognize a familiar song when it’s played by a Brass Band, but for some reason, maybe because I’m such a G 😛 , I knew it as soon as they went into it. Then I had to show my you-know-what. LOL I started doing the C-walk, and throwing up the dub, shouting out “West Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide!!!!!!!!” ROFL
I was really showing out for my SET! And I was standing all by myself, in the middle of the crowd, with space around me to really get into it. I know the band loved my early enthusiasm! LOL
Then they started singing the hook and everybody knew what song it was.
I love dancing like gangsters. It reminds me of my firstborn because that’s how she used to dance when she was like four. Throwin’ her hands up in the air with her head down and doing a two-step. LOL I had a ball.
Then they started playing “California Love” and you know we know how to party.
I love when bands tailor their set to suit us. Like when Eric B & Rakim went on Soul Train. I would have preferred “Eric B is President” or “Paid in Full” but they chose “I Know You Got Soul,” undoubtedly because of its reference to Soul Train.
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But trip this! Saturday morning, I woke up happy and refreshed, basking in the aftermath of the show I had seen the previous night and set out for the Pier.
On the way, I passed what looked like the aftermath of someone who had stolen somebody’s bag, gone through it, and left the remains.
Naturally, being homeless and broke, I was intrigued.
I kept riding, looking around. I saw a crazy white man across the street, but didn’t think it was his, he was so far away.
So, I rode back and stopped in front of the booty.
I was checking it out, but two fellow members of the Homeless Society spotted me and thought they could get in on it too.
When they approached, one of them said, under his breath, “You f__k with that s__t?”
I was like “No.”
But I guess, like most salespeople, he refused to take no for an answer and repeated his question.
“NO!” I said emphatically.
Then his attention turned to the loot. Being members of the male sex, they quickly overpowered me and I was reduced to onlooker status.
Turns out the crazy white man across the street was the owner.
Then the bartering began.
“Ay, let me get those headphones.”
“Oh. I need my headphones.”
“Let me get that portable battery charger.” He takes it. “What’s this?”
“Oh, that’s my toothbrush and stuff.”
“Can I have your phone?” I ask.
“I need my phone.”
“Let me get those Nike pants.” (The crazy white man was wearing a matching Nike set.)
Then the drug dealer inquired if the crazy white man f____d with that s___t. He did.
“Okay, let me get those Nike pants.”
The crazy white man refused the pants, but they agreed on the shirt.
So, the drug dealer takes the phone I wanted and moved it right in front of where he had sat down.
So, I’m thinking maybe he’s going to steal it for me. Then he says to me, “You wanna be my girlfriend?”
And I’m flattered because he was cute and there’s something about drug dealers… I think it’s because they’re business owners and I’m really attracted to Brothers who do for self. But he was all of 22. SMH
I reply bashfully, “I got a boyfriend.”
Then he says something along the lines of “Where is he?”
And I’m left fumbling for an excuse. Meanwhile, he takes out a piece of a plastic black bag that he has stored his drugs in and starts biting it open. He takes out what we, who are used to following recipes, would call “a pinch” of cocaine and puts it on the phone.
So now, I’m like, “THAT’S what you wanted the phone for?!?!?”
But he was unaware of my plot and goes on after the exchange is made, “You gonna hang out with me or what?”
And I’m like, “Nah, I’ma violate my probation…”
Then he was like, “I’m on PAROLE!”
And I was like, “Boy, bye.”
And pushed to the pier.
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So, when I was at the Boogaloo show, as I was leaving, I went past the food section and there was a catering truck called “Postcards.”
I’m really interested in food, so I stopped to have a look.
Every single entree was named after a famous Black person, most of them artists from the Harlem Renaissance! You know I loved that. Of course, the truck was Black-owned and I greeted the young man and woman, who appeared to be his mother, who were operating it, and kept on heading towards the exit.
The band was performing an encore and so I stopped for a minute to catch a little bit more of the show, and then comes the mother, with two tacos and hands them to me.
I was so moved by her generosity! I mean, she saw a poor homeless, probably hungry, Black girl and came and offered some of her vittles! That was so thoughtful. Allah rewards that type of behaviour and I implore each one of you to patronize her business if you ever happen to come across them. Okay, I just Googled them and found their webpage and although, they claim to serve “Soul Food with a healthy twist.” I really don’t think that’s possible and judging from the pictures I’ve seen, they think greens and macaroni and cheese are healthy. Anyway, here is the link to their website: POSTCARDSCAS
Oh, okay, I just checked out the menu and the “healthy twist” is that all of the meats are baked and the side orders have no meat products. I guess this is an improvement in the way most Black people eat, but we should be here.
You can find them every Tuesday at the Santa Monica Food Truck night at the California Heritage Museum from 5:30-9:30.
So anyway, unfortunately, the poor, homeless and probably hungry Black girl is also vegetarian but didn’t want to hurt her generous benefactors feelings, so she graciously accepted the offering and passed it on to what appeared to be a more poor, homeless and probably hungrier Black girl she passed sitting on a park bench on her way out.
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I thought about just spending the night at Macarthur Park. A lot of people do that. But then I thought about Santa Monica…
On Sunday, I witnessed an altercation there between two men, one of whom was holding knife. Another man was trying to break it up and eventually the man without the knife was able to get away from the other man.
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While I was at the park, I went exploring in the rec center and found a flier. They have Hip-Hop classes in breaking, graffiti (urban art), deejaying, emceeing/spoken word and music production on Saturdays from 12-4. JUICE I am pretty sure the classes are still going on because last year, they had the final show in December.
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Why was I at the show on Friday feeling a little bad about my attitude towards that would-be photographer, and about to write an explanation about how as Muslims, Our Beloved Messenger, The Honourable and Humble Elijah Muhammad (May the Peace and the Blessings of Allah Forever Be Upon Him) taught us not to allow Christians and unbelievers to photograph us, so that’s why I get so upset. But when I turned around to get my notebook out of Lulu’s basket, why was there a devil taking her picture??? See what I’m saying???
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I was so worried about what I was going to eat this weekend because I had $1.79 in cash benefits and $.75 in food benefits but I ended up getting so much food I made myself sick! LOL Allahu Akbar!
I pray Allah you all had a wonderful weekend and will have a wonderful week, month, year and lifetime. Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon you.