A failed attempt at a Swoopes blog.

Let's see if I can get this Swoopes blog out in about five minutes without turning it into a novel.

My nigga Dubb posted a comment today asking why this is even a surprise (but in classic Dubb fashion, he asked if her lover was Chief Fong from Frisco). I'm not surprised, because i wouldn't be surpised if any of the WNBA chicks were lesbos.

But Swoopes was married and had a kid...so i guess i didnt suspect it too much.

Her semi-diary on ESPN.com was interesting. She said she doesn't think she was born gay, which i also believe.

Actually...u know what...too many issues here and not enough time. maybe i'll return to this...but yall know me, probably not.

I'm hoping my girl J gets busy w/ a column on this subject. it needs a female voice...not some stupid white man yakkin off at the mouth.

Don't know what ur plans are for the week, J, but i hope u get on this.

Florida weather

What's the weather like where you're at?

It's 45 in Buff. 50 in the BX. 57 in the Strict. Gray clouds covering those spots today.

It's 67 here. Crisp. The sky is perriwinkle blue. Not a cloud in sight either. And the sun is gettin busy.

I hate Florida weather for the most part (summer's too long and no Fall), but it's jive autumnal today. Granted, the leaves are still green...i'm not gettin a dope tri-colored branch with a lil cranberry, a lil lime, and a lil burnt orange. But this weather is magnificent.

I'm hater. Let's get that outta the way. If you roll to DC and ever run into my niggas there, that's something they like to say about me...to the point where I can;t even dislike somethin w/o it being dismissed as (please excuse this word, but i couldnt resist) hateration. So be it.

I'm definitely a Florida-weather hater. I just really don't get the hoopla.

Let's check this for a quick minute:

1) Hurricanes
2) Dumb, stupid, ridiculous, foolish, piss-hot summers
3) That summer lasts from April to October.
4) No frikkin Fall

Yeah, I was definitely playin the jerk role this past January when I left DC and the 30 degree weather, drove 16 hours and arrived in Orlando -- 75 with the royal blue ceiling. From Nov to March -- a good five months out of the year -- the weather is spectatcular. It'll be February and you'll be driving down the street looking at palm trees casting ill shadows, cause there aren't any clouds in the sky.

But still, Canes, a balls-hot, seven-month summer...and NO FRIKKIN FALL.

I might be more of a Fall Dude than I am a Music Dude, Food Dude or Incredible Dude. Pops used to take us on trips to see the leaves back in the day. Western New York autumns are downright gorgeous. DC's got a jaw-dropping autumn too. I used to love driving up-n-down the Balt-Wash Pkwy between october and Decemeber. It was crazy. The BW is lined with healthy trees and the leaves would go absolutely nuts in the Fall. I can;t get enough of autumn. I've worn out Autumn's tooth-brush bristles. Even the gear you rock in autumn is the illest. Like, the ladies can -- at times -- just rock a sweater that stops right at the waistline, so your eyes can still taste all that good stuff cookin down below. The Fall is also the absolute best time to BBQ. I mean, u gotta feel me on this Fall thing.

...

No frikkin Fall in Florida! It's just ridiculous and sometimes I wanna ask Jehovah why he set this dumb state up this way. I really do. How can you not have Autumn? Kills me.

But I must say, with all that whinin', I'm lovin the weather today. I was drivin down the Vet, sunroof open, blaring Pharoah Sander's Astral Travelin. Now that's gangsta.

real quick

Been away for a minute. But i'll be back tomorrow. Got some stories, some opinions, some thoughts.

Stay tuned.

And screw everyone that called me a bigot and chavinist...even if I am.

San Fran's Fong

"Vince, get over here. You'll like this one."

So I put down my paper, swiveled my chair around and my way to the TV.

"Check this out man. Who'd have thunk it?"

Who'd have thunk it indeed. The tele was tuned to CNN. It was breaking news. Another nutjob, demonic mother had killed her kids. This particular woman was hearing voices and murdered her three precious children.

Insane.

But that wasn't it. We were both amazed that, presiding over the news briefing, was an Asian police chief. An Asian woman! Her name was Something Fong.

I mean, just stop for a sec and give ol' Twisty a minute to process that. That one took me for a spin. It's an achievement. True, if there was an American city to break that mold, it'd be San Francisco. But still...

All the kung-fu movies in the world didn't prepare me for that one. I'd never seen a male-Asian cop in my life. Not even an Asian security-guard. I haven't even seen an Asian hall-monitor. But an Asian-woman police chief? Of one of the nation's biggest cities?

I kept thinking my co-worker was gonna say "Gotcha" and tell me that it really wasn't CNN, it E! and I was watching a re-run of when Lucy Lu hosted SNL. I wanted him to say that, because I was feeling horrible about myself. My disbelief was gnawing at me. Why wasn't I prepared for this? I joke about bigotry and discrimination, but am I really that dude? Am I a chauvinist? Am I a bigot?

I started tackling these questions, all the while putting on an awkward smirk as my co-worker began his Evening at the Improv stand-up routine.

I should've been applauding this breakthrough, instead I was all bent out of shape because this was gonna be one of those instances that blind Americans used to show me that "It's alright here in our great country."

Internally, I started breaking Chief Fong down, trying to diminish her Asian qualities and make her more masculine.

"Really, she looks kinda masculine. Like, if Nick Nolte were an Asian woman, he'd look just like that. So, that's probably why she broke this barrier. It's not like she looks like Amerie or somethin."

"Look at her hat. That joint is wayyyy to big for her head. This is a snow-job, she's really not the Chief. The real Chief probably had a death-threat this morning, so they're using Fong as a sacrificial lamb. The EFFIN law! I hate The Fuzz."

"Although, listen to her voice. She sort of sounds like Phil Jackson. So, at least she has that goin for her. She's got that. Ya know, if like, she's gotta bust a scumbag or somethin."

It's sad though. When it comes to Asian women, most Americans only see dry-cleaning lady, corner-store clerk, happy-ending, an almost-white news anchors.

I should've been ready for this yall. Insead I was caught with my enlightened pants around my ankles.

Judo-chop!

A Couple Things XVI

--- I started my new part-time gig. School newspaper advisor. Twice a week I'm at Springstead High helping the kids write and publish the Talon's Press. I did this in DC and loved it. Won't get into to much now, but after I get a alittle more familiar with the nkids and my role, you know I'm gonna novel blog ab out it.

--- Dwight Howard is gonna beast-out this season. I can't believe I used to think Okafor was gonna be the better pro.

--- Is there any way Sadaam is gonna get a fair-trial? Any way? It's not possible. Now some may subscribe to the "He doesn't deserve it" thinking. That's cool if you wanna dance that way. But America is thrusting Democracy on the Middle East and Democracy is supposed to highlight and manifest all of the noble moral tenets, right? So if the first high-profile trial is a farce, what is that doin and sayin?

--- Hurricane Wilma is coming to Florida and I'm ready for that bish. I want her to come this way. That may sound stupid and ignorant, but I want to experience, first-hand, the natural power of a Cane. So long as I don't die.

-- Rick Gervais is the new funniest dude on the planet.

--- The SOURCE gave Lil Kim five mics. FIVE EFFIN MICS!!!!hich means they've deemed it a classic. I have my music-pirate fishing for that album as we speak. I gotta get to the bottom of this. Either Kim pulled her shoes up or the SOURCE puller their skirts down.

--- Speaking of female rap artists that wouldn't get to The Couch, Trina has album out. It's called The Glamorest Life. I just don't get that. Hiphoppers are good for taking words and changing the spelling, but that just looks ignorant. Glamorest? I guess I'll digress.

--- Since I'm on this hop-thing, youngster emcee Juelz Santana penned a short-film that ran in KING magazine (Megan Goode on the cover. She's fire). It includes dialogue like,

Girl: Uh-uh, who is that &*%$?
Juelz: Quit beefin. We gotta hurry and get outta here before squalie come.

I need to get an internet copy of this, so I can post it.

Tuesday's with Mary

Everything Mary does is like an old woman. An old, frugile, penny-pinching woman. Apparently she has some phone plan unlike any I've ever been familiar with. This phone plan charges her 20 cents to make calls with a local area code, if the location is out of some ridiculously small boundary.

So, instead of calling me on my cell phone to contact me, she's always leaving messages at work. Since, I don't check my work vmail, but maybe two or three times every couple days (I list my cell at the end of my stories), sometimes I'm gettin messages she left Friday afternoon, Monday morning. Stuff like that.

Well, last week was one of those situations. I guess she had called to remind me about some appointment we set, like, weeks ago. But, I wasn't reminded because she inisists on bein a cheapskate and not just droppin 20 cent to call my cell or changing her ridiculous plan. So, of course, I missed the appointment -- which resulted in the following note being left in my door...

Vince,

We had an appointment at 2:00 today. You know, you could have called me to reset the time.

I don't like wasting my time + gas.

Very dissapointed,

Mary

I couldn't get a 'Sincerely' or 'Best Regards' or even 'You're a D-Bag'? She hit me the guilt-trip.

As always...she greased me.

A Couple Things XV

-- this week has to end soon. by Sunday I'll have wrote nine stories this week. And not some rinky-dink joints either. It's nuts.

-- I got a lot of ideas swirling around the newsroom right now. They should turn into some interesting stories. People told me that you might get handcuffed here at the Times, but I'm finding it to be the exact opposite.

-- Esquire chose Jessica Beal as the sexiest woman alive. I gotta concur with that, provided that you understand I'm looking at it as if I were a white man. But Beal is hot. I can't front on that. Are there a slew of other celebrities I'd choose over her? Yes. But Esquire was gonna choose a white woman and I can't say that I'd have gone another route given those restrictions. She's shapely, she's got full lips, she's pretty and she's not on the cocaine-n-barf diet.

But her greatest contribution to society was playing the mark for lil man Ryan Pinkston's coming out party on Punk'd...when he told her that she should 'show a little more skin.' it was heavy.

-- i'm not saying anything NBA-related until I look into a couple things. I may have a cool announcement in about a month, but we'll see.

Politically Correct

In her comment to the post on 750-pound man John Keitz' death, Megan -- a Twist-blog regular and by far the best comment-poster -- wondered if striking the term "morbidly obese" from our current lexicon is another example America's blind and hyper attempts to be and stay "politically correct."

She commented, "when i read this, though, i had to raise an eyebrow:"The old term for those in Keitz's weight category is no longer politically correct but it may be accurate: "'morbidly obese.'"did the phrase fall out of favor because it's not accurate for most people, or because people in that category and lobby were offended? to me, this smells of oprah. you know, "i love my body even though i can't walk up the stairs while holding my two-year old." i get the sentiment, and i believe that everyone -- especially someone in this predicament who deals with a disproportionate amount of prejudice on a daily basis -- needs and deserves a healthy self-image, but if your "self" is not actually "healthy," are you empowering or deluding yourself."

She brings up good points about what might seem to be a general public that coddles fat people's fragile egos. But here's my thing with the whole PC thing: Why do we even use that term anymore? It has nothing to do with politics half the time...it's all about decency and fellow-feeling. Refraining from refering to someone as morbidly-obese is not being PC, it's being a decent person. Is the term acurate? In its truest and most fundamental sense -- yes. But its the connotation that we derive from "morbidly". When is the word "morbid" not used in a pejorative manner? You can't put lipstick on that pig. People are pronounced terminally ill, not morbidly ill. Sure, in essence they mean the same thing, but since when is it bad or since when should we suck-our-teeth at phrasing things in a way so as not to make people feel like a pile of ish? That's why the english language has so many words used to articulate, essentially, the same things...only certain words might more accurately get to a certain point.

M-W.com sites "grisly" and "gruesome" as synonyms for "morbid". "Morbid" has simply come to connote more than just disease or lent to death...it's meaning has become more accute in the way Americans use it. So, no...not using "morbidly obese" has nothing to do with politics or politicians.

I understand that the whole PC thing was popularize by politicians curbing their language so as not to offend constituents they were trying to attract. But now, just like with the adjective ":morbid", PC has become, largely, a phrased used in a perjorative sense. "Oh, he's just trying to be PC." or "Well if we weren't always trying to be so PC, maybe our true feelng could come out and we could solve some of these problems."

Huh? I never understood this rhetoric. The odd thing is, I rarely come across cases were being PC is wrong or taken too far.

When you look at the differences in definitions between handicapped-physically diabled or retarded-mentally disabled...they really don't differ much.

But over time, these words morph into terms we used for putdowns, "quit actin like a retard" and generally diminish the people it describes.

So, I'm sorry...but if handicap people thought about the meaning of the word and what that was doing for their image and someone thought disabled was less negative. SO FRIKKIN BE IT! who eff cares if we, able-bodied people, have to condition ourselves to use a different word. deal with it.

Last week's Curb had a hilarious scene about using the bathroom stall for "disabled" people. Larry, of course, called the dude "handicap" and the dude in the wheelchair split his whig. classic-type Curb scene.

Then there are things like Colored versus black versus African American...or Indian versus Native American...or server versus waiter....flight attendant versus stuartist.

I don't give a crap...I'll call you whatever you want me to call you.

I remember talking to one of my old college classmates and I called a lady a "female" and she looked at me and said, "Vince she's a woman. She's a person, not a gender. Is she a dog? or a pig? no...she's a woman."

No granted, that bish was probably on her period...but I don't recall thinking, "Hey ease off Ursula"...I recall thinking, "You know what, actually she's right."

I watched this 90s college-flick a while back, PCU, it starred Jeremy Piven (who by the way was behaving JUST like Ari off Entourage, 10-years before he played Ari). The movie was about this psuedo-frat that was fed up with all PC-groups on campus. The queer-dyke groups, the wetback-groups, the porch-monkey-groups, etc. Piv and crew just wanted to be left alone and for America and college campuses to return to the good ol' days when everyone could be priks and not worry about some moral arbiter telling them they were offensive. In the movie, the women's group got mad when Piv and his crew promoted a party with flyers featuring scantily clad bikini-models. And that pissed the un-PC people off. "It's just some chicks posibng in bikinis with their legs open so we can basically see theyre muff!! Get over yourselves." I guess I can feel that a little, but what's wrong with women taking opffense to being objectified? Is that being too-PC or just expecting some decency?

Maybe I'm a nerd...but if there's a way to be nicer and spare making someone feel dehumanized or less than themselves..then why not? Yes, I call people every racial epthet in the book and generally behave as onoxious, offensive and without regard for fellow-feeling as possible. But I never use someone else's extra-sensitive rules for politically correctness as a way out. I'm just a morbidly-obese colored-boy and misery loves company.

Made Me Sad

Check this email I got:

I am glad John's story got your attention. He did the story for the Washington post with the intention for people to read it and make changes in their lives before it was too late. You may have heard, John passed away on September 20, 2005. Best of luck in all you do.

That came a couple days ago. My man John Keitz that I novel-blogged about in my "I'm Husky" post died a couple weeks ago. Yes, he was 750-pounds...but he was only THIRTY FRIKKIN NINE. That's just too sobering.

My day was going along fine when I opened this email and then my whole mood changed. It was an odd feeling, too. Can't really describe it, but try to imagine, maybe, a lukewarm liquid starting at the top of your head and traveling down the inside of your body...that's about the best I can do.

I wasn't depressed or anything, but definitely sad. After reading his story back in the summer and then comparing and contrasting -- albeit jokingly -- my weight issues with Keitz' in a novel-blog, we formed an unwitting connection. So this news was kinda crappy. Plus, Keitz had hopes. He was trying to lose weight, tryuing to learn how o sit up again, hoping to one day walk and throw a dinner party. His internittent resilience would always shine through what was a largely angry and frustrated man. And I love that, because -- as you know -- I brush my teeth with resilience. But my man couldn't hold on. All that negligence and salf-hate that allowed him to balloon to that ungodly size finally caught up with him. So sobering.

I'm still husky, but I'm gonna push-away a plate of fried food for Keitz today.

Pacino

One of those weeks yall. My schedule is all screwed up and I make things worse by waking up late, procrastinating on everything and pussyfooting around. Keep clicking back though. With my lack of posts this week, the next one is guaranteed to be the size of a webster's unabridged dictionary.

By the way...I finished watching Scent of a Women for the first time as an adult. I know Pacino won the Oscar for that performance. And, yes, his acting was superb. I really believed he was a blind man...he was magnificent.

But he's now a cartoon to me. Even when he's supposed to be powerful and compelling, I laugh at him. What's the difference -- other than his blank stare -- between the scene where he vouches for Chris O'Donnell at the Baird trial and the scene in Dick Tracy when Big Boy Caprice (Pacino) is deebo'n Spaldoni (James Caan)? Absolutely nothing. Same guttural voice-raising, same semi-tourette's half-manic body-jerks that always causes those stupid bangs of his to flop wildly and then lay, disheveled, over his crazy eyes. It's hilarious.

Me and my dude Tony were up real late (maybe 4 or 5am) one night back in early summer watching this Pacino-flick, And Justice For All...we paid very little attention to the plot, only because it was entirely too diofficult to get past the fact that 1.) he's 5'2 and the directors of photography, in all his movies, manipulate the camera to make him seem taller, but he still comes out looking no taller than 5'5; and 2.) he shouts 65% of his lines. Granted me and Miiks were toasted that evening, but definitely had enough wits to understand how ridiculous Pacino is half the time.

I can't imagine watching a Pacino-flick with a Pacino-lover. We'd be watching Scarface and they'd be mesmerized and enchanted and engulfed and enveloped in "Pacino plays a Columbian" and I'd be chuckling everytime he talks and everytime the cameraman forgot to manipulate the scene and we end up seeing that he's 4'10 playing a bastion of machismo.

Like I said, he's a cartoon. A great actor, but a cartoon.

outta pocket

Outta pocket most of the day. Might manage to get up a post, might not.

Meanwhile...Soul-lovers: Dwele's album drops today. Jazz-lovers: Robert Glasper drops today.

A Couple Things XIV

-- The fight was awesome. Well, the actual fight had its moments, but it wasn't Hagler-Hearns or Castill-Corales (can't wait for Saturday). But, the atmosphere was ridculous.

I did realize that I don't necessarily like covering boxing. Sure, the ringside seats are dynamic and it's cool for a dude like me to get to kick it w/ Glen Johnson and Jeff Lacy. But, I'd much rather go to a fight w/ my boys, drink, people watch (translated: talent search) and cheer. That's the hugest drawback of attending a fight as a reporter.

I wanna be that dude losing my voice, standing outta my seat and actin a fool. It was, at times, torturous covering the fight. So many times I wanted to bellow out partisan cheers and use the word 'nigga' a lot. But I couldn't.

Me and my dudes already said that (since an overseas trip is probably a 2007 affair) a big 2006 trip could be a big Vegas fight. And it's gotta happen. it'd be a weekend to remember.

-- The Tampa crowd SUCKED!!! Oh they were loud and yes, the were raucous. But 1.) They booed homeboy Tarver. That's just stupid. And that's why I hate the South. Often, they allow transplants and visitors to just gangsta them into submission. You think if Tarver was a Philly native or NY native or Buff native or Chicago native...whatever native...you think he'd have been gettin booed while Jones got earsplitting applause?

No doubt, Jones is my Man, but hometown Tampa disgusted me with how they initially deserted Tarver. It wasn't until the 6th round, when Jones got tired and Tarver got tougher, that those idiots started reppin for the Tarver (if you think I'd ever denigrate Earvin Johnson by refering to pink-lip Tarver as Magic Man, well...you don't know me very well.)

See my man Tarver's face on the jumbo as his hometown booed him...I just felt sorry for my man.

2.) The talent was solid, but not like you'd expect for a fight of this magnitude. I mean, there were definitely emasculating woman prancing around with 2-inch waists and them thangs that make ya say 'Lawd'. (emasculating because you realize that on your best day, you have no chance. But then again, it only has to do w/ pocket-girth. I mean, Winky is a very regular looking and and regular-built dude, but the skeezers were on his bozak like no one's bitness.) So there were a good deal of Tarver-Jones III ladies, but not as many as the ones that made ya say 'Ewwww, put a bra on em.'

3.) Tampa/St. Pete is still acclimating itself to being the boxing capital of the nation. With Winky, Lacy and Tarver all from the Bay area; there will be more and more fights here. Especially after both the Lacy and Tarver-Jones fights sold out easily. But these knucklehead Bay-area fans think theyre at a football, hockey or baseball game. So they engage in STUPID, ANNOYING chants like "Let's Go Tarver!" What?!!?!?!!! That's not a boxing chant. What dorks. What we need is for some Hispanics to come rep at the spot, with their flags and whatnot...gettit poppin.

-- after the fight, I went to a little post-fight party that one of my co-workers threw. He lives in the Hyde park section of Tampa and I fell in ove with it. Reminds me of all my favorite sections of the cities I've lived in: Buff's Elmwood, DC's Dupont Circle, Atlanta's Lil Five Points, Orlando's Lake Eola Heights.

My editor urged me to live out in Hernando, since that's the county I'm covering. it makes perfect sense. Commuting to and from the communtiy youre covering, in first year, is not the move. I've learned so much about my County in these first two months and it's all about vicinity, proximity and just being around.

However, after my lease is up...I'm out and I'm moving to Hyde Park. Hyde Park is the kinda neighborhood that'll make you not wanna leave Tampa. It's quaint, it's hip, it's urban...I liked it.

-- Also, after stints with the AJC and Wash Post, I thought the Sentinel was an anomaly. Nowhere, I thought, would there a be a big paper, with this many young people. I was wrong. The Times is full of 23-35 year olds. And most of them are interesting and fun people. The difference is that, there seems to be a lot of couples at the Times...and we all don't live in the city -- so it's not exactly like the Sentinel. But I've met a good deal of challenging people.

Last night, we sat on my man Justin's porch, drank beer and wine and the Northeners and Southerners argued about the different ways each regions manifested racism and bigotry. Of course I was the only black dude...well there was another black dude, but he wasn't reppin...anyways, you know Twist was workin overtime.

I'm tellin, youI need to get paid for these things.

-- finally set up my desk in my room, which means I no longer have to sit in my semi-uncomfortable chairs at my breakfast counter when I wanna use my laptop. Those things used to mess with the circulation in my legs