New York Narrative

After seeing the new Superman movie tonight at Lincoln Center, I realize why the world needs a superman. I won’t go into too much detail, but if we had a real Superman people would focus on the good in this world. I think people watch a movie like Superman because they like drama and suspense to have a happy and just ending.

The news today is hardly ever filled with good news. Much of it is focused on tragic events. Most of the sad events that are shown in the news could be prevented or dealt with in a better way. Man just doesn’t have all the answers and that is what Superman does best. He answers our pleas for help to the best of his ability. You too can be Superman or Superwoman if you help just one person to the best of your ability.

The great thing about New York is that so many people have the power to help others, and those people are situated near others that need help. Don’t you agree?

The Brooklyn Hip Hop Festival (BHF) is a FREE, all-day, outdoor event celebrating Hip Hop music and
culture, and the borough of Brooklyn as a premier cultural destination. The BHF’s aim is not to only
showcase talent from just the borough of Brooklyn, but Hip Hop, Soul, Funk, Jazz, Dance and other
performers whose artforms have influenced Hip Hop culture from around the globe. Now in it’s 2nd
year, the BHF is set to take place on June 24th at the Tobacco Warehouse at the base of the Brooklyn
Bridge. Working in conjunction with the Brooklyn Bridge Park Conservancy, and the New York State Office
of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation, the BHF is part of the park’s Free Summer Programming
this year.

This year Lupe Fiasco will be performing. He is my favorite new rapper who has made the best skateboard rap song of all time, “Kick, Push.” He captured in three verses what I have felt about skateboarding my whole life. Awesome, thanks Lupe.

Last year’s event took place at the Brooklyn Brewery in Williamsburg. Over 1,500 attendees enjoyed performances from Brand Nubian, Little Brother, Rhymefest, Leela James, Medina Green, DJ Amir, Ge-ology, and more.

The Henry Hudson Park is a nice quite park in Spuyten Duyvil. Spuyten Duyvil is near Riverdale. For those of you that don’t know where Riverdale is, it’s in the Bronx right over the Henry Hudson bridge. Most people think the Bronx is like Manhattan, but it has some really beautiful places that transport you out of the city atmosphere which sourounds NYC.

Someone approached me a few weeks back while writing a play concerning what the most meaningful moment in my life would be? It was quite a heavy handed question, in my brain. I sat and thought: for years, it has been sequestered into our brains to appreciate the time we have now for it will be a mere reflection in our shadows. As convoluted as it may sound, there is a truth to be told beneath that very ideology. As a human race, we subserviently instill value behind our thoughts, our actions, and our words. If we didn’t, what would drive us to achieve? The beliefs of others? - That would be considered social totalitarianism, and indubitably, an empty clutch on how to live. We desire meaning to formulate purpose to believe and feel. Religion, to cite, sets the platform of a culminating system of beliefs that ultimately act as the framework for what we hold in high and low regards. I speak on a colloquial standpoint, as we set standards based on what is meant and implied. Yet to eliminate all ubiquitous moments of meaning and to pinpoint it would not only be unfeasible, but quite arduous. All the moments then I sit and try to acknowledge what others hold in high regards that it represents personal meaning. Late one night, I returned home from a little Birthday rendez-vous on my friends behalf. I was walking past a bus stop I frequent when I stumbled upon an elderly woman in a white pressed, maids dress. A disjointed name tag subtly promulgated beneath her pressed collar as she sat taking rhythmic drags of her 120 cigarette. Quite an unknown spectacle and it somewhat constrained and compelled me to pace myself to peer at her. Unaware of a subculture so refined within its values regarding others, I could only admire a woman (or man) who advertise themselves on a stance the socioeconomic elite deem ciphers. Betina, so simply put, jauntily beamed in my direction and said ever-so squarely beneath her worn breath, Evening, baby. It made my evening, oddly enough. This worn woman, with pressed hair and geometric teeth bothered to acknowledge the presence of my being, more or less my time (not to seem supercilious). Oblivious to her own life, may-well-it-be she has six kids and her mother to oversee or a double-shift as a waitress and maid to the dignitaries, she spoke to me in a way that was inexplicably poignant. She, in a single world, looked dignified - and from the minute of moments, I knew… it was a moment. period.

My friend was dog-sitting for an elderly couple thinking that all she would have to do is to play with this cute dog. So after an afternoon of watching bad television shows with the dog in the living room, she left to get something to eat. When she came back, she discovered that the dog had died. Yes, it was dead, just lying there on the couch. Panicking, she called the owners and explained everything. Turns out, the dog was elderly and didn’t have many days left in him. The couple wanted her to take the deceased to a vet who can deal with it properly. It was an easy enough task, except you can’t just carry a dead 30 pound dog around in the streets. So, after surveying the apartment, she decided to wheel the dog in a suitcase. Then she had to take the subway uptown with the dead dog in the suitcase. But on the platform, my friend got into a coversation with a fairly attractive, well dressed man. They started to flirt a little and the man offered to help her with the suitcase. But knowing its contents, she declined and guarded the suitcase with care. Instead she explained that it was only some things that she wanted to move into her apartment. As she reached her stop, she said goodbye, but the man also got off saying that it was his stop too. The man again offered to help her carry the suitcase, but she claimed that it wasn’t too heavy. As they reached the top of the staircase on the street, the man suddenly turned to her, punched her in the face, grabbed the suitcase and ran. Now you can imagine how weird it was for her to have to find a dead dog and not only that to be robbed of the dead dog. At some point the man is going to go home, having lugged the suitcase around the city and find a dead dog in the stolen suitcase. Karma, I tell you, karma.