I last had a real birthday party in 1991. Six of my closest friends found way to the yard of an abandoned house neighboring my own home in Northwest Washington, D.C. There we made scarecrows (fitting given my date of birth – October 26, 2010) and ate way too much candy.

In 2001, a 21st birthday was planned. I don’t recall an anything resembling celebration or fun. I remember waking up under the coffee table of my apartment the day after, going into my room and finding 6 people sleeping in my bed, pulling on some sweatpants and walking two blocks up State Street to take an art history exam.

I still have the exam, which reads on page one of the blue book, “Anna, It was my 21st birthday last night. I’m still pretty drunk, so I apologize if my handwriting is illegible.” I vaguely remember showing up in a wife beater, the above mentioned sweats, and a knit cap (and that will stand as the lone nod to fashion in this post). The perfect score I received was not only a gift, but salvaged an otherwise unremarkable milestone birthday.

I’m 30 this month. My best friend celebrated earlier in the year with a rather lavish affair, which got me thinking – “Should I do something this year?”

My brother’s advice was straight forward, “Spend all your money on a private concert.”

I calculated how much money I have (none) and who I could afford. I was told Sadat X might be an option. I thought to myself, “Perhaps I could give Flip Star a bottle of Henny…”

Then I half-jokingly suggested to my friend Adrian King Carter that his next “The Talented” event feature artists of my choosing.

For reasons I can’t adequately imagine, Adrian and Lamine (the guys behind “The Talented” and DYDC) deemed the idea a solid one.

Because of them, and because of their incredible hard work, I have (wildly) a private concert for my 30th birthday.

Performing are three of my favorite hip-hop acts. Two – Diamond District and Kokayi – are DCs own. The third, Stalley, hails from Massilon, Ohio.

The guys have produced artist profiles for all involved. Embarrassingly, they also made one for me.

They even organized an official after party.

Given the relative quiet of previous birthdays, and even just my lifestyle, there is a tinge of “insane” about this event. But, I’m excited. And, I am grateful to Adrian for transforming a joke into something fun. I’m incredibly lucky to know the type of people that take ideas and turn them into reality… as well as those that have enough tongue-in-cheek to literally celebrate a nobody.

The show is free. If you are in DC, please come out and join us.

Head to D.Y.Lifestyle for the full information.

A new video and a collaboration with Kanye in one week isn’t bad for a young guy.

I’m appalled (no, upset) that Gilbere didn’t invite me for a cameo though.

The great comedian Sinbad used to have a bit about how Dominique Wilkins would walk into a club and take every girl in the place. I don’t know if that is true. I do know the dude could dunk.

I watched this video last night and got goosebumps. You might not have the same reaction. You should, however, recognize that Mr. Wilkins had some special talents.

This is how to get a haircut…

Produced and shot by my man Jake Green of MVP247. Music provided by the kid Gilbere Forte. Unattractive man getting haircut played by me, Nick Schonberger.

My favorite moment from the World Basketball Festival -

On Saturday, I took some time away from the the hustle and bustle of the court and walked around the grounds of Rucker Park. This young man was playing ball with his father, the two appearing to have a nice day out at the Festival and enjoying the more open community spaces.

Amid all the celebrity and fast pace of the activities, this moment hit strongest. Often, as media covering events, we don’t take the opportunity to experience them as members of the public. There is a reason for that – sometimes their just isn’t time.

I made time on Saturday. I got a haircut at the park (more on that in the future), walked through the interactive sections set up by Nike, and wandered down Fredrick Douglas to get some lunch, some super chicken at Charle’s Pan Fried.

In any event, I caught this little guy playing ball. He seemed to capture the essential spirit of the World Basketball Festival’s intent – Love of the Game. I really hope he continues playing. Hope he rises through New York’s High School ranks, stars at the Rucker, and represents the USA in international play.

I hope he enjoys and pursues basketball in all its applications, just as we did this past weekend.

And, ultimately, I hope he’s remembered as the lasting legacy of Nike’s event in New York.

This is the one and only time I will ever mention the NFL.

I like the Redskins.

I like my friends at Fresh Melt Water.

Those guys (Fresh Melt Water) have worked with Redskin Chris Cooley on the official t-shirts for his Captain Chaos character. They are awesome. Buy one if you are from the DMV direct from Fresh Melt Water.

In the days when formality was still an important element of American society, courting a woman was a lengthy and complicated matter.

At times, the ordeal might last several years. For instance, the father of novelist William Styron spent two years establishing a relationship with the first love of his life. At the end of this period, he proposed marriage, and due to circumstances of social standing was shot down. (Nice little subplot – the two reunited and married some 60 years later).

If etiquette books established customary norms for courtship, I’m unsure – it has never been my field of study.

However, last week while spending the afternoon keeping a 6-year old boy out of trouble, his afternoon show I-Carly, got me thinking about how dating norms are ingrained in adolescence. In the episode, a foursome went on a “double date” to what functioned as a fancy eatery (and served enormous salads and cheesecake slices). This struck me as quite odd… for in my day, a walk around the climate controlled comforts of the local mall was certainly a more regular “date” than a stale dinner.

I started to think about how dating was portrayed in Saved By the Bell… and, memory stopped me at the Max and at Screech’s attempts to woo Lisa, and at girls/boys randomly appearing in a member of the opposite sexes bedroom. Dating, in my memory, was hinted at, but very rarely explored in real time.

My friend Cary, who I regularly bother with questions about all sorts of mind-numbing things notes, “You often saw Zach with a random chick from the Valley parked in his convertible. Or, he’d ask girls out at the Max.”

We learned, then, through Zach how to impress a woman. And, this type of courting remained consistent through a range of programs created and produced by Peter Engel, the man behind SBTB. In such genius titles as California Dreams, City Guys, Hang Time, Malibu, CA, and USA High, courtship is alluded to with moments of bluster and cool guy posturing – each show has its own Zach Morris. Dates in all are confined to public spaces or events. We have school dances, beach club parties, and my favorite, workplace flirting (notable in SBTB for the appearance of a young Leah Remini as Stacey Carosi).

Stacey had a steady, a Yale sophomore with a strong jaw, who became rival to our hero Mr. Morris. The man appears in rare dinner dates, and also eludes to an early model of courtship that involves great distance and social standing. Sure, Mr. Morris was the cream of the SBTB social crop, but he wasn’t of magnificent breeding… or so the Malibu Sands episodes suggest.

The challenges between Morris and his rival border on the sophomoric. Largely, they are about showing off in front of members of the opposite sex. And, anyone who has ever been 12 to 18 years old is guilty of employing that approach.

Little by way of true etiquette is revealed in the Engel produced programs. Posturing, apparently, will entice the girl. Short bursts of honest emotional connection might hook her. But, then what the fuck do you do?

We don’t learn how to properly place a napkin at a meal. Or, how regularly to open a door (probably always… but nowadays do you always want to reveal emotional/matrimonial/sexual interest?).

Watching I-Carly last week, it dawned on me that Max, my 6-year old companion for the day, was developing at the very least an interest in dating habits. He laughed at jokes made over the dinner table. He smiled approvingly as one girl dissed the fat kid for his better looking chum. He was, sadly, picking up on some underlying signals of how to react to future dating ritual.

The episode ended with the fat kid dancing on the table (reminding us that they are, after all, still young kids) and in his attempt at posturing totally turning away the object of his initial affection. A potentially sad moment was reversed when a large girl essentially said, “Fuck that bitch, I like your moves,” and joined him in the table dance.

That the boy was shirtless was a decision made probably its comic potential. The ramifications on decorum completely ignored, the story ends (I guess) on a high note – people of similar ideals find each other (subtext – if you are fat and odd you are unlikely to win the hot chick). Still, any potential and relaying positive values and building a base from which a sense of etiquette can blossom was completely ignored.

My own youthful walks through the mall, informed by SBTB, probably suffered similarly.

Only now, nearing 30, have I thought about how the popular culture of my youth might have failed me. The lessons of Saturday morning television haunt, stories like Mr. Styron’s uncommon in my adolescence. His seems romantic. It seems full of genuine “getting to know you.” Our swarmy heroes instead taught how to get some eyecandy that will impress your peers.

Or for Max, how to behave wildly in public.

Yes, I realize the above shifts strongly from my previous post on first catching eye of a woman’s breasts. While that makes one feel like a man, the realities of dating can be frightening and full of second guessing. A false confidence often employed in favor of real confidence, that “getting to know you piece” can be lost in the mire. Thank you, Zach Morris, you might have ruined me.

First video from my man Gilbere Forte. Directed by Chris Robinson. Not too shabby at all.

That said… still not even close to my favorite joint on the upcoming 87 Dreams.

(Also note the voice over cameo by my dude Set Free).

Bad Dudes From Dude City.

Let’s be honest, we all need some bad dudes around sometimes and they might as well be from Dude City.

An advanced degree in “material culture” has some disadvantages. It turns one into an “archivist,” or more sadly a pack rat.

The antiquarian urge to preserve the past… and remnants of my youth… results in boxes and boxes of unfiltered crap. I unearthed one of these boxes this weekend (while in DC) and found a small cache of music t-shirts. They range in graphic quality and in genre. Some are quite good. Some, as you’ll find, border on the embarrassing.

Enjoy.

R. Kelly as “Mr. Showbiz” from The Light It Up Tour.

Pause.

Rawkus promotional t-shirt for Pharoahe Monch Internal Affairs.

Def Jux promotional t-shirt for Murs The End of the Beginning.

Mark under – Why do I own this?