We joke around and they remark regularly on how I used to be Cuban.
But then I found my groove with the folks that came in a darker shade of brown. Sporting my sour apple blowpop in my ponytail and frontin as much gold that the babysitting job would afford at the 7th Avenue flea market. I remember hitting the street in my favorite pair of kicks…pink snakeskin Diadora’s and the largest pair of imitation Cazals I could find. Rockin my black MCM, singing Mary J. Blige and SWV with the sistas, eating Jamaican patties, hot sausages, and the hugest dill pickles that only the ice-cream man could offer…filled with kool-aid flavored slurpee of course. Its like it was yesterday.
My mom was concerned about the shirtless L.L. Cool J. and the thugged out Big Daddy Kane posters on my wall and my brother Jake felt the need to constantly remind me that I wasn’t “black”. And this was just the public stuff. There was also the powder on the wood floors to aid in my soul train routine practices and the fascination with beads, vaseline, and my black Barbie, DeeDee…the creative hairstylin was birthed during these years. I had a cool posse in those days: Chante (her dad had the hugest mercedes), Tanika, Latoya, Shantrel(she was red-boneded…lucky), Kennika, Kenyatta…you’ve got the picture. I was every sistafriend’s dream friend…light eyes and hair past my waist. I spent so many afternoons on the stoop getting my hair plaited and many nights finishing up my homework early so I could watch Good Times and Arsenio.
This has nothing to do with nothing, but I just felt like reminiscing. Its this song from Faith Evans…its so ole skool! Lovin it!
Back to the present…my laundry awaits.
|Currently listening :|
The First Lady
By Faith Evans
Release date: 05 April, 2005