the nikki jean theory.

Now, I do not know nikki jean. Not even in the way some people "know" their favorite celebrities. I've seen her in one lupe video ("hip-hop saved my life"), and I saw 15 seconds of a clip she made on youtube. What I do know is that she can sing, and she has a smile that reminds me of when i was young, when a smile was enough to carry a young man through a whole 3 week relationship with his 5th grade girlfriend, whole time in love.

I've gone through this love affair once before with Rosario Dawson. Until I found out she was on with that dude from Dawson's Creek, doesn't much matter which one, and that love died. He may not be an assclown, but he was on a show for assclowns, which is too much makeup and shit for me to stomach. I told myself that if I were ever to meet her, I would ask her to lunch, and with two hours of talk time, I'd soon be sporting her around town, holding her hand, and kissing her on the mouth in public. Yup, all of that. Wouldn't even care. Sport her everywhere, and as long as I wasn't making a mockery of my name, it would go down. I said it applies to Rosario, and now Nikki, but it probably applies to every woman I think smells like home.

Let's say Jean was my woman, and in a months time shit fell apart. Some heavy cake came to spirit my woman away and the heavy cake did just that. Would I be mad? I couldn't say I would, because I had her for a month.
If Nikki Jean is as cool as she is bad, I had a bad ass woman, who could sing, liked football, eating and beer. Fishing and fresh air. Grilling. Reading. If she didn't like these things, as least she was open for the suggestion. She put me on to shit that otherwise I couldn't fade, helped me see shit that was lost to me. Chilling on a saturday afternoon catching the breeze.

If I had that for a week, month...shit, three days, I would count it as a blessing, thank god, and move on. I wouldn't lament the fact that it was over no more than I had to. Wouldn't curse her, fault myself, take my homies ears and fill them with lament. Not to say I wouldn't try to make it work. But if the credits began to roll, and the lights came on...well, I would follow the signs. Not many dudes ever had a girl like that ever. Met one, much less dated her. I won in the big game champ, even if the victory was short lived.

I try to look at everything in my life in the same way. When I have it, and it's sweet, I cherish every got damn moment, because as you get older,the good times are the short times without fail. No matter how long they are, it's never long enough. Whether it be a miscommunication gone awry or death, it all ends eventually. So cherish it while it lasts, with no thought to the end. Soak it in so you can carry it with you, so when appreciation and joy leaves you and regret and anger fill the void, you will have some reminder, some signs to hang to show you the way back home.

(So nikki jean, i'll take a smooth 5 minutes and treat it like 5 years. Come make the theory reality)

perpetrating a fraud.

Swag is absolute bullshit. Straight up. It is not what people are portraying it to be. The definition is off and jaded, been tampered with and molested and now a shell of what it once was, down to swag from swagger, and from respect to buffoonery.

I never heard the word coming up. People called it different things back then. Presence. Charisma. It was what took over a room when my father entered it. It was the silence that followed when my mother spoke. It was what made schools and neighborhoods follow my cousin. It was never said, just understood. Back then, when people were people and not counterfeit images, they knew somethings were better experienced and not proclaimed.

In this world, we are so quick to name a thing, so it can be defined, packaged, bottled and sold. It can be traced and copied. Swag is no different. Now, it's down to the right sunglasses and jeans. skull clothing and mohawks. Vans and Nike SB's. It can be as simple as copying a rapper, who copied it from somewhere else. Jim Jones loves this proclamation, but he stole it from white rock stars, and now you steal it from him.

Your no better than 3rd hand swagger? That's pretty damn sad.

Before, you learned how to carry yourself from men and women you knew and respected. You knew them, what made them stand out, and you learned from them. Even still, it was awhile before your own particular presence stood out, because it didn't fit you yet. You had to live, learn, follow, fall, be taught, understand, comprehend, fail. Succeed.

Some of it, you couldn't learn. Some of it was bound to your DNA. Born with it or not. A square is a square, even if the packaging is fair. Aint no changing that.

Even then, you had to tailor make it for your life. You had to show and prove. And it was more than clothes or talking slick. It was standing up and showing the world through action that you were a man or woman to be respected, listened to and followed, because you went through the trials and tribulations of being your own man/woman no matter what. Up against the torch, you stood up still, and took the hands of those who needed to be led and did so, with care and concern, because you realized that their welfare was in your hands. That they depended on you. Through these actions, you walked different, talked differently because that responsibility made you different. You had to have this presence, this swagger in order to stand up and lead, to take brunt of the foul lies the world is waiting to cast on you and yours. And yet still, you never proclaimed it, for if it were true, the world would validate you and tell your tale.

I never understood swagger to be anything, but when I think about it, that's what I understand it to be. My father had the respect of the those men who were to be respected. They listened to him, waited for him to speak. He didn't change for the world, but the world changed for him. Young women want to be like my mother, and young men hope that their wives are like her. They bring comfort and understanding through their lives and actions and people in turn follow them. It has stood the test of time and scrutiny.

But this shit in 2008? Grief, I have no idea what this is. What I do know is that weak men fabricated it, and foolish women have validated it, and now its counterfeited form is being mass produced on fraudulent assembly lines housed in factories of ignorance. And its all too sad, because now those among us who possess the gift, and have paid the cost are now being overshadowed by the masses of those who proclaim swagger, but possess nothing of the sort. And when pressed, the flaws show, the quality is lacking and they all crumble, leaving all of those who fed on their lies unsatisfied and confused.

Leaders, stand up and lead, and give the world a true definition.