Public Enemy's "It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back"

ALBUM OF THE DAY: Public Enemy's "It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back"

Ooooooo! I liked this album much more than I was expecting! this 1988 Def Jam release was jaunty. Yeah, I just used "jaunty" to describe hip hop. Don't care. That's how much hip hop has permeated our culture. It crossed barriers and infuses the familiar Anglifications.

It's good to know where Flava Flav came from. Was never certain. Even more enlightening was Chuck D's flow. Flav's type of voice is not my personal preference, however.

So, some fitness epitomes. I've learned that the more I focus on 'what' workout I'm going to do then I take that much longer to get it done. Seriously, two hours laying in bed on Saturday morning trying to figure out if I want to drive (and pay for) one of our state parks versus an urban hike that would require an hour drive south to Fort Lauderdale. Sure enough, after wasting that two hours THINKING about where to walk, I could've finished my 90-minute walk.

Doink

So that was a good "you big dummy" lesson for me. I have my Something New in my album of the day. That's where my focus should be.

I know where this problem comes from; I was introduced to fitness via group fitness. Always having a dance rehearsal or drum corps practice to participate and be bossed around in, quite took care of needing to think about what sort of workout I was going to do. That was always sorted out by staff or motivated by which part of the show needed to be written or cleaned.

This is a similar habit preference I learned about while living in Hong Kong and joining a hiking club. I wanted to meet new people, both locals and expats, and also see much more of the country's natural offerings away from the pollution. What I figured out about myself was that I preferred slotting myself into the middle of the pack during the hike.

There was a lovely married couple who organized these hikes via Meetup.com. (Facebook hadnt been officially offered outside of colleges yet.) They ended up having to limit the group size to fifty people. Then one would lead and the other would take the rear for the less-hearty stragglers.

My comfortable spot was in the middle of the group. This allowed me to not have snap as many branches or rush to climb stone steps but also not feel pitifully out of shape in the rear. The additoinal bonus was that I could "just sheep" is what I call it. I didn't have to lead. I could just follow and not be in charge.

There are so many folks who believe I ENJOY being in charge. The reality is that I prefer being in small groups SHARING responsibility. It it healthy for me when I can trust someone enough to take charge of 'me'.

And it HAS happened. I trusted Toni enough to take my college graduation party preferences and run with the organization. I had an amazing day!

I trust Liz, Laurie, Sarah, and Hope enough to move and organize my new apartment during the end of the school year. A hellacious time for teachers. By the end of that non-chaotic day of chaos, I was able to lay my head on a be-linened bed with curtains hanging from my windows!

My point is, planning helps. I'd love a personal trainer but my student loans and teacher salary let me know that's not happening anytime soon. Meanwhile, I'm at least meal prepping on Sundays.

Stay tuned for the next post.

What helps you decide which workout you're going to do? Do you stray, too?

N.W.A.'s Straight Outta Compton

ALBUM OF THE DAY: NWA's "Straight Outta Compton" ---> (radio, clean version)

Alright, soooo, amidst a bit of jeering from my already-indoctrinated friends, I decided to listen to the clean version of this blockbuster album. As much as cursing irks me, it was important to not discount what I was hearing simply because I would've blocked out so much of it via internal judgement. I felt this album was too important to do that to. And yes, I KNOW it's coming. I'm fully aware that  I'm not going to be able to traverse this particular path without encountering the boulders of profanity. I just want to get to a point wherein I'm so invested in the music first that it's not as much of a 'thing' later. 

To accomplish this, I've made a bit of an adjustment to my schedule. Instead of following my Greatest 30 Hip Hop Albums order that cover three decades, I'm going to go in order. This will help me focus on the 80's and melding into this genre. 

Now, one of the problems I'm encountering is, indeed, gathering this list. With a few walks and scavenger hunts through Google, I struggle to find an all encompassing list for greatest hip hop albums beyond the one above. Indeed, there are multiple lists of Best Rap Albums, but even a quick Wiki search or Quora forum reveals what I already knew to be true: Hip Hop and Rap are not synonymous. This was even evident given that Lauryn Hill's album made the Top 30 list I mentioned. The article I just linked to includes an interview with Afrikka Bammbaataa sharing that

 "One common understanding is that hip-hop is a culture and rapping is one of four elements contained therein—the others being breakdancing, DJing and graffiti."

Then Flava Flav confers this same sentiment with "I think the element of hip-hop left when rap music started being created on a slow tempo... There’s not too many great hip-hop records out there, but there are some great rap records." However, the writer of this Ebony Magazine article, Shaka Shaw posits that if Flav's devotion to that early rap style, then hip hop never would've migrated out of New York's boroughs and received it's additional funk seasonings from the West Coast's stamp on the genre as we groove to it today. 

The attempt to make my list according to the Nominees for Hip Hop Album of the Year for the Grammy's, BET Awards, Soul Train Awards, or what have you, have all proven futile. There IS no category for Hip Hop. Some albums are in the Rap category others are in with Soul/R&B. So how is a Newb supposed to decipher??? 

On the fitness end of things, I have had a pretty fiercely unproductive week. The first week and last week in a new Term are always Hell Week for us. And when that parallels a long break, such as Winter or Spring, then we also have to contend with the kids being on next level crazy mode and, of course, tons of meetings. Tons. 

Couple that reality with my ankle injury that has absolutely flared up as a result of this cold weather and this additional impact on her, and I was done for motivationally-speaking. It just wasn't happening. And did I mention getting caught in the cold downpouring rain a mile into this walk? I figured I would've been just as wet turning around and power-walking home that same mile as I would be speed-walking the rest of the four miles I had already begun. Sure enough, thank you kooky Florida weather, the rain stopped by the conclusion of the second mile. 

Now, what this did for my cold, I can not pretend that was any added benefit. So, I drank echinacea tea into my veins for the next 48 hours to counteract the damage I'd just inflicted on self. That and my new morning regime of drinking apple cider vinegar has truly been a wonderful complement. My toilet and I are more frequent friends, sure, but there are enough books in my home to offset that little lifestyle change. (grin) 

Eric B and Rakim - Paid In Full

ALBUM OF THE DAY: Eric B and Rakim’s “Paid In Full”

I threw a cartwheel today. !!! 🤸🏽‍♀️

This was a desire that’s been building for quite a minute. Somehow it came to mind last year when my old Disney World cast members were reunioning to produce a show for the purpose of raising funds for our charity.  As some of us discussed increasing our fitness to handle some 25-year-old choreography, some random Instagram challenge ensued to show who could “still hit it!” Totally random.

Alas, don’t all reunions prompt that sort of fury and anxiety? We try to hold on to the “us” of yesteryear rather than merely being the best versions of ourselves today. It’s really logical. And BIOLOGY. A ‘fit’ 20-year-old simply has a different build and makeup than a ‘fit’ 45-year-old.
That’s nothing to be ashamed of. All of this “trying to fit back into my prom dress/tux” is phoney and idealistic.

And why would you want to? Dude, if the best version of yourself was your 17-year-old self, there are OTHER issues that must be addressed beyond any sort of healthy or unhealthy weight gain.

Aight? #mentalhealthawareness

So, I threw this cartwheel today. Pointed feet. Stretch limbs. Velocity. Stuck the landing! My goofy smile couldn’t have been larger. Granted, it was partially relief that I would be saving money by not having to go to one of those weekend emergency care facilities. But the rest of the smile was a mixture of nostalgia and accomplishment.

As such, I was able to then enjoy this album more. Which, I have to go ahead and admit, was a struggle at times because Rakim's egocentric lyrics (are they called "lyrics" in Rap). I felt like I was being attacked by sopping wet car wash sponges as the bullied kid at a club fundraiser every time he dropped a personal pronoun.

Dude. Shut UP. You are NOT that fly. Even those of us on the perimeter of hip hop don't know your name. You are NOT a household name outside of your own household. Seriously, people who have been super instrumental in other people's journey never have to tell anyone; their proteges do it for them. Ugh! I felt like I was getting a flashback/forward to Kayne West. Totally not looking forward to that nonsense.

Eric B’s mixes were dope. He got a few sidewalk jigs busted out after the whole gymnastics championship. I’ve even noticed I’m beginning to care less if I’m spotted. I walk in a super White neighborhood adjacent to mine. I mean, even the street names are titled after Civil War battles for goodness sake. Saratoga. Antietam. Shenandoah. They’re fooling everyone and no one with that nonsense. Meanwhile, I like this walking path because between all the super gates communities because, of course, tax dollars maintain the heck out of the upkeep. And, as the folks walk their doggies to or from the dog park, I’m not bothered as long as I keep it super-apparently moving.

I also don’t have to cross any streets taking this route. Not to sound funny but, I have some horrible childhood memories lingering regarding street crossing. All involved my little brother and I was the sibling (there are two others) that was there for each of his tragedies. Yeah, thaaat's got to make a person feel like a lucky charm!

And, so, yeah, I know he finds it annoying, but when I have his son, I am obsessively extra careful and informative teaching that mini-him to cross a street. Of course, I've noticed our older sister does it with that nephew also. Perhaps providing Grief Counselors for kids back in our day would've been helpful, eh? PTSD comes in all forms.

Oh, speaking of subliminal... There was a song on this album that sounded a lot like DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince's "Summertime". Anyone know which came first?

RUN D.M.C.’s Raising Hell

ALBUM OF THE DAY: RUN D.M.C.’s “Raising Hell”

Aaawwwwww yeah! Now THIS was a tremendously more fun and recognizable Run DMC album. I’m writing today’s entry on my phone so it’s going to be a short one. Alas, I have to note how very much more often I smiled and chuckled (I am using that word because this album was released in 1986 so “LOL” didn’t exist yet).  Better yet, I even found cutting a little jig onto my walking path. That’s a tremendously good sign for me, those two things.

1. I could understand (articulation) and relate to the lyrics.
2. I could feel the energy and original beats from the music.

And isn’t this what made hip hop different? That the stories being told were so much more different text lu relatable? That alongside this whole new fusion of how a beat was created this making the birth and sustenance of the DJ significant. Right? The blending of the MC and DJ blessed this domination.

And I call it, firmly, a domination because this is most certainly what hip hop has done for our modern world. Same as rock and roll did. Which a nice place for me to segue to note the genius of whomever was behind that Steven Tyler pairing with Run DMC.  I don’t even care that it was  purely marketing move. I don’t even care if Steven Tyler was paid a salary of a small country to participate. It made a difference. The song “Walk This Way” is a entire Renaissance all by itself!

I exaggerate, of course. But not much.

Throughout the past few days I’ve had a Request for Recommendations up on some moms group for my area.  I’ve asked for adult dance classes that
A) weren’t for old ladies during the day (I live in Florida. It’s a thing.)
B ) weren’t hip hop.

This in no way reflects any dislike for hip hop dancing. Instead, this reveals how ubiquitous hip hop has permeated our culture that jazzercise instructors who used to be on their high school Pom squad are teaching dance classes that aren’t European-derived. So they’re ALL getting labeled “hip hop” when they’re most certainly not beyond the music choice.

I wonder if this is how Hindi’s and Indians feel about how insanely yoga has been appropriated?
Oh, that got me into a bit of an online spat yesterday in of my Black women fitness groups. Someone had posted a comment to watch out for yoga because it’s messages are not Christian and some poses could be unknowingly be worshipping a non-Christian God. (Insider huge eye roll here.)
I very much folks would read some VARIED books.

Alright, this small screen is driving me crazy. So let me share my good news!!! I recalibrated my Map My Walk app and found out my regular walking route is 4.75 miles!!! I started this blog and journey a little embarrassed and down that it was taking me 90 minutes to complete three miles. Nooo! I’m good! Currently at an 18 minute mile. A 16 minute has been the best I’ve ever tracked.

As we are going through a cold fronnt and it’s 58 degrees at 3pm in florida, thereve been many reports of iguanas freezing and falling out trees. So I know I looked super silly avoid walking under trees. Luckily Indidnt see any dead monster lizards, but I did see a few frozen dead birdies. That cranked my heart. What a jolt to encounter death like that.

I myself was dressed like a witch trying to dress like a Muggle trying to piece together warm workout clothes. Turned out that I NO long pants! So below my TWO Capri length stretch pants, I had some crew socks pulled all the way up! I needed to cover that skin!

Anywho, thank you Rev Run and D-MAC. I quite enjoyed the stories you told on this album. Well, really more so tales. I felt like the anecdotes were those that I could’ve heard a stand-up comedian reflect on. Even more than just “You Be Illin”. This was my thought. The first album was so preachy and lecture. I felt like you had the entire weight of teaching everyone what rapping is and why we have taken to it in our culture. Raising Hell (the album not the song) was definitively more entertaining as it’s own vessel.

RUN DMC's "Run-D.M.C."

ALBUM OF THE DAY: Run DMC's "Run-D.M.C."

Dropped my dang Resolution on JANUARY 2nd!!! LOL! I'm totally, properly ashamed, no worries. But see... #whathadhappenedwas ... 

• There's a continental cold snap
• Iiiii caught a cold
• and I didn't know which album to listen to next!

With a combination of my Introversion (INFP) on top of all of these EXCUSES, it is making it tough to get up and leave the house. I live in South Florida so I am well-aware from my various social media feeds and, well, the news,  that there is little sympathy for our drop to 68 degrees. Alas, cold is relative! Whenever a Floridian has to put on anything long-sleeved, much less additional layers of it, we can really catch an attitude. Sure some fashionable folks optimistically embrace it by donning *those* boots in the back of the closet. And, of course, that one woolly sweater grandma knitted for us a few Christmases ago gets some airtime. Other than that, it's a discomfort and an complete life-adjustment that we full-timers are unused to accommodating for. And in my case, where I barely fit into any of my regular clothes nowadays and NONE of my former winter wear, this was a super added inconvenience. 

I adjusted my trudge, alas, finally. Though it was a complete "differentiation" rather than an "accommodation!" (A little teacher humor there.) Being single, it's all about having to get the heck up out of your sick bed to go get your own dang medicine. As such, I went ahead and tailor-fit all of my errands and my walk into this one-time-out excursion. With a current size G bra size, once that puppy comes off, it's off. I've even cancelled on a promising date because of this unwritten rule.

Anywho, with a one-time-out to do-it-all plan, this means I had to go ... dun dun dunnn... THE MALL. #facepalm I hate going to the mall. While I try to appreciate it's modern day convenience, I'm an advocate for small businesses and mall rarely fits the bill. I'd  much prefer a old-town-y village set-up where one has the availability to meander through the cobblestone streets visiting various, specific vendors who likely have owned their shops for generations. 

Interestingly, this is how I got the idea, I suppose, for the long walks. I was reading some John Grisham novel where the protagonist had to be hidden out in a new country. Somewhere in Italy. As he was needed by some government alphabet bracket to testify against some big time gangsters or something, he was being tailed. And knew he was being tailed. So, he focused on planning his escape so he cold live a decent life. This included him walking the streets of his new village all day for weeks. He did it in order to create a pattern of not having a pattern. But he was also able to learn the turns and alleys of the streets so, one day, when he needed to run, he'd be able to potentially have a head start on his captors. Thus, side bonus of all that walking, he was able to slim down significantly and adopt a disguise, really.

So, this is why the long walks with a purpose rather than short, pre-meditated bursts of "workouts" that I'm likely to hate so much that I won't do often enough. Especially as I don't have the mental culture ingrained in me yet. 

Okay, hashtag TANGENT! Alright, so I walked through my errands was the point. I drove to a little further to the Target with a garage as it was also raining. While I had a list, and actually stuck to it this time, I purposefully visited the sections out of order. This way, duh, more walking. Right? Leaving the cart in one place and going to gather things also allowed for bursts of speedier walking. 

Once finished with Target, I walked across the eight-lane road to the outlet mall. I hate crossing the street where I live. As a teacher, I get recognized and, thus, honked at. I despise getting honked at or "Hey girl"ed  or any other attention called to me when I leave the house. Yes, I'm aware that this must sound perplexing from a performing artist. But when I'm on a stage, that's completely ---- completely---- different. In those moments, under the sweat-drenching lights, I serve a purpose to your life that I made the choice to participate in.   Also, in this super car-necessary society here in sprawled out Florida, people are judgmental when they see you walking. There's no culture here of walking or biking for ongoing health, only pre-meditated fitness or interaction. This is definitely a play group slash spin class world down here.

Alright, so our outlet mall is an outdoor one. So power walking throughout was less impeding on others meandering, luckily. When I received a true girlfriend-catch-up phone call, it was even better to sneak steps in! As I'm dissuaded to be 'that lady' who is talking on her phone and ignoring assistance offers from sales staff, much less rudely talking around other people not involved in my conversation, I took a fair few laps around this sprawling mall. So, thanks for the call, Liz! 

Herein lays my ongoing plug to CALL your friends rather than texting them to death. Nurture your dang friendships. Focus on THEM; don't just fit them in. Not too often, anyway. 

I concluded my Family Circle's Billy-esque day at Whole Foods. They really have the market (ha) on teas. I absolutely adore the entire gluttonous AISLE of it they offer. Throwing shade to all other supermarkets who have two aisles of breakfast cereal... Now here is where I wish I had remembered to turn on my Map My Walk app. I'm certain I would've made it explode trying to track me!

Alright, so the Run-D.M.C. album only has ten tracks. This allowed me to listen to it three, maybe four, times. And this was necessary. I disliked this album. That said, I fully take into account that I was grouchy because my head was imploding, I was cold and wet, and I was at a mall. That said, even giving the album at LEAST three listens, not once was I inclined to dance a little jig. Never did I crack a true smile at lyric I heard. And there was no inclination to utter a "word up" at something I heard that was super insightful, poignant, or relevant today. 

Add to this that the beats were sssoooo monotonous. I recall relating the similarity of the rhythms on the album as a whole to listening to contemporary African music. I can think of the nation of Côte d'Ivoire specifically as I used to party in a nightclub owned by an immigrant of theirs. While the beat stayed steady and perky, it just lacked any color to it.

Sorry, Rev Run, I tried. I really did.

OH! Meanwhile, I solved my issue of not knowing which album to focus on next. I noticed that when I didn't already know what my plan was for the next day, I was less motivated. So, taking in all of my suggestions from friends who are egregiously more versed in this genre than I, I made a spreadsheet... becaaaaause, of course I did. It's a Google Doc that I'm sharing right here.

The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill

ALBUM OF THE DAY:The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill

Yeah, I cheated. SORT OF. While Lauryn Hill's breakout solo album is absolutely not a new album to me, it IS on quite a few "best of hip hop" lists. In fact, this is the list that I'm following for the first month. The 30 Greatest Hip Hop Albums Ever

I've shared this list with my better-hip hop-educated friends. ALL of them had opinions... and strong ones at that. Most of the uproar over this list is concerning the missing contribution of

• The Roots
• Missy Elliott
• replacing the Outkast's Speakerboxxx/The Love Below with their first one, Aquemini
• replacing De La Soul's 3 Feet and Rising with De La Soul is Dead
• my cousin and his fiance' were rather adamant that 50 Cent came off the list!

Then there were just suggestions of artists I'd never even heard of!

And when I say they had STRONG opinions, I sincerely mean it. Goodness gracious my text messages just exploded! My phone actually spasmodically buzzed with their replies and debate that it fell off my arm chair's arm thingie!

They're actually still going at it. I've muted their butts so I can get this written before my glass of Shiraz finishes. As I'm cutting my portion sizes, I'm only allowed one glass per night. I shall most sincerely miss my TWO glasses when testing season gets into full swing. Or, goodness knows, as always happens, at the end of the marking period or progress reports when  the "... but Miss Donni..." becomes the most hated collection of syllables my ears must suffer through.

Today's walk was a march! I took to the beach which means, now my butt is burning. Also that I only got two miles in, but they were SAND and water miles. I actually had to fuss in a Tweet to  Map My Walk to include a calorie count provision for the torture that is sand.

While I was out there, though, I saw the little old lady I strive ... and stride... to be! This tiny lady had her earbuds in for own walk and I happened to catch her at THAT moment when the hook must've hit or something. Eyes closed, she hit a little jig or jam or whatever it is that little White ladies do. It wasn't 'cute', it was 'cool'! She was legit feeling whatever was in her ears. She looked like walking had been part of her lifestyle for years. SHE is my goal.

I took notice that she was slim not skinny. I noted that she was sprightly and did not hobble at all. I also didn't miss me that she didn't fuss with any silly fitness-specific clothing. She just wors some comfy Bahama shorts and comfy cotton top. Similar to what the ladies in the film The Ya-Ya Sisterhood wore on their walk.

This is what I respected most. Trends have always annoyed me. I grew up watching Caroline Ingalls. She was plenty healthy, spry, and slim and Spandex hadn't even been invented yet!  

There's a similar old lady in my yoga class. She's nowhere near as cool, but she is pliant and moves, ... well, not with grace, per se... with ease. Living in Florida, I've literally grown up around The Elderly. It's just something I 'know' about. And there are those elderly who are hunched over canes, shuffle their steps, need help from a younger family member to take that one step up onto the curb even. I can just picture the slew of medicine bottles on their bathroom counters. And I do NOT want to be *that* category of Old Lady.

When I lived in Hong Kong, there was this group of elderly ladies who used to power walk around The Peak's perimeter trail. They all had some cute little sneaker or, really, shoe, that was some form of sparkly. Some were store-bought silver or gold Keds. Others were legit bedazzled. As a result, my friend Lori called them The Disco Ladies!  And oooooh, they were so spry that you could absolutely imagine the guffaws they shared over afternoon sherry. 

My Great-Aunts Vivian and Agnes are/were similar in nature. And goodness gracious, they were involved in EVERYTHING. And not just cranky old-ladies who run a committee barking out commands to everyone. These youngest big-sisters of my Grandpa were the 'hands dirty' type.  

They are my Instagram Goal Models.

Bell Biv Devoe: Poison

ALBUM OF THE DAY:Bell Biv Devoe's "Poison"

Released during the second semester of my junior year of high school, this album nestles my Nostalgia Button like a full-fledged cartoon Mammy to her breast. Yeah. It's like that. I teeny-bopped with New Edition, properly selecting one boy band member to gush over (Ronnie, duh),  and they will go down in my generation's history as iconic and formative to the best boombox bootleg mixes.

In fact, BBD was the first concert I was ever allowed to attend without my siblings! (There are two older and one younger.) Deep into my dance years myself, I was absolutely enraptured by the guys' dynamic choreography and rapid staging. My dance team never got to do their songs for any of our stuff, but our dynamic, over-the-top pep rallies certainly included choreography from boy "dance teams" who were allowed to get away with such scandalous lyrics to roars of approval from all four corners of the gymnasium. The newly rhythmic, pounding bass was utterly magnetic... even to the NKOTB fans. (They were fooling no one!)

Flash forward %# years, and I am disenchanted. These. Lyrics. Are. Horrible.

Now, as not to dismantle my beloved memories, I decided to merely chalk their chalky wordsmithery (I made that up) to the reality that their education was stinted. Their book learning as well as worldliness was cut short as a result of their young fame. Similarly, the 'game' that their lyrics purport attract actual women fell incredibly short on this 44-year-old.

As I sulked through my three miles, really trying to give my guys the benefit of the doubt, I was caressed by the amazing breezes that walking along A1A/Ocean Avenue offers us here in Florida. We had a jealousy-inducing 71 degrees at 11am. And, bonus, there were plenty of visitors(!) to our area. We Floridians CRINGE at the crappy driving of our northern and Canadian neighbors. But when it comes to being able to take a simple walk in a predominantly White neighborhood, it's a nice change to have a pleasant greeting offered first rather than wincing out a reluctant, eye-contact-averting one in return.

Total walk ended up going 4.48 miles in an hour and 40 minutes. Not straight, though. I stopped a few times to get some wide-arm push-ups in on the memorial benches that line the path. That and the Intracoastal Bridge opened twice. So I reverted to that Hamilton Mixtape I just discovered during Walk Day 1. There are still some amazing songs I can't get out of my mind!

As this is my final entry of the year, literally, I can't help but to reflect why I finally upped and got this walking thing going. It's truly been about a twelve year mental journey to work through:

•  how I gained the weight 
• why I kept it on #metoo
• the benefit of keeping it on
• relearning eating habits
• teaching myself to cook finally
• the importance of daily fitness
• allowing my mental state to know I was responsible for maintaining my body's health
• finding the mental capacity to believe I was allowed to honor my body
• the reality of being so bored when working out like magazines said to do and stopping before my body actually needed to
• wanting to get back into dancing but my now arthritic ankle wouldn't allow me to 
• wanting to do more group sport and fitness activities but my teacher-salary kept getting in the way of affording the variety my mind craved
• and, truly, the discipline it took to get myself motivated based on "supposed to" alone!

And so, here I am. I have discovered A Purpose. And it's totally self-serving. That's something to get used to in and of itself! I mean, WHO is going to benefit from me discovering hip hop music properly?

Meanwhile, I do enjoy running around with my nephews more than just watching them play. The youngest ones are 5, 11, and 13. This definitely makes Frisbee Football more fun!

DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince: Greatest Hits

ALBUM OF THE DAY: DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince: Greatest Hits

SOMEHOW, I became someone who woke up looking forward to my workout today! What the...
who DOES that?!?!? Okay, so here's where Miss Nostalgia enters and I realize there was a time
in my life when I would absolutely wake up with the anticipation of what rehearsal that day would
entail. Yep, I'm one of those weirdos who actually preferred rehearsals to the performance.

To help make this concept make sense to ‘civilians’, I have to offer a new word I recently learned
from some dude's profile in OK Cupid... don't judge me

Merriam-Webster drops this definition of EPISTEMOPHILIA on their website.

"love of knowledge; specifically: excessive striving for or preoccupation with knowledge'

Indeed, the option to gather together with my cast or team in some musty rehearsal hall or gym to
know we had a collective goal to learn choreography or blocking or a new flag exchange that-may-
cause-bloodshed was exciting! (I choose to use this example so I can conceal my nerdiness for a
few more entries, at least.)   Anyway, I found this anticipation energising. And it was even more
amazing to feel that sense again today. Too often during the school year, I find myself waking with
the first thought being, "How long til I can return to, dear friend?" That friend being my lovely, overly
decadent bed. Not a healthy mental start to the day!

Alright, so thank you YouTubeRed for access to temporarily download this album. The benefit being
able to save my phone battery.  The most recent iOS software upgrade is one of those that drains
your battery super, cruelly fast. This being a Saturday, I was taking a new route and that Map My
Walk app is a total battery-suck.

Oh, 4.06 miles today.

So, album reflection -

Alright, so on today's docket was an album I'm actually familiar with. I consider this forgivable
as it's still 2017. Also, the need for me to have Gateway Rap into all that cursing is  still relevant.
Thank goodness for Will not wanting to displease his grandmother. In fact, I think tomorrow's
album will have to be Quad City DJ's as I can't remotely recall and other rappers who don't curse.

Will Smith is a storyteller. Not in one of those super, griot types where history or knowledge is
dropped. But you know *that dude* in every playground or lockerroom who can make a memory
about watching paint drying sound like a roller derby commentary? That’s Will Smith for me. My
sister has this gift as well. It is to her that I would make certain to tell my most insane travel tales
or student absurdity. Think about it… how likely is it that that story of him stealing his parents’ car
and picking up a 12-year-old reeeealllllly went down that way??? (Parents Just Don’t Understand)

Honestly, though, I feel like it’s more prudent to focus on Jeff’s contribution to this album as Will went
on to make enough other albums to have a Greatest Hits album of his own. And here is where I
have to admit that I like the music sampling. I recall there was a huge ‘thing’ with it years ago at the
inception of crossover hip hop. Meanwhile, the counter-argument that sampling brought retired
musicians and songs back to the conversation was valid.

Hamilton: The Mixtape

The Hamilton Mixtape

This is the album that finally gave me the courage to start this blog ....and make it public. The thing is, I've been a teacher for over a decade. With most of those being in America and her silly connotations about a teacher's personal life, I've not found my blog voice on a subject that won't cause any controversy should a litigious parent want to find some random, unassociated-with-their-child problem. (Not kidding... this happens)

So, taking a hint from the Twitter accounts I loahte most but notice they have the largest follower number, I am just going to talk about myself and things I'm not good at... yet. Helloooo car crash gawkers!

Anywho, I've been teaching Theatre in Secondary schools since 2003. Hamilton seemed a rather logical gateway drug into this venture, right?

But that MIXTAPE remix though... Why did  I not know about this??? I'd heard "Immigrant" drop, of course. As such, given how much I enjoyed it and forwarded it to everyone during this hellaciously unkind 2017, I'm completely uncertain why I didn't ... wait, I do know. The Hamilton Phenomenon annoys me. Don't get it twisted - I LOVE that Lin Manuel created his masterpiece and he and the multi-ethnic cast and crew are getting PAID. I'm annoyed that White America, like the Eminem thing, seemed to get to decide when hip hop was "good" or "acceptable." That's really moreso my beef with it's popularity. And truly likely what kept the Mixtape from my ears.

It's all good in da hood now, though! Luckily I had such a full day that I didn't get to my walk until 8pm-ish. So, on my 3 mile neighborhood loop, it was perfect that now one could see when I burst out some choreography! 5--6--7--8-- mayn!

Oh, the sucky part. At 206 pounds (down 11 at this date, though and DURING holiday season!), it took my all 80 minutes to get through these three miles. I've got my quick stride back, thanks to a new chiropractor and wellness trainer. Right now this quick stride only sustains for 1.25 miles before I need a break.

Okay, I have to figure out how to assess which songs affected me most as I can't really take notes! Hmmmm Got any ideas?

Alrighty then, I DO know that while my body was incapable of just power-striding straight down the sidewalk, the lyrics told such an incredible story. Given their incredible significance in this political climate, I was riveted. I was also motivated to shout a few "yaaasssss-es" and "fo' reals".

• Who Tells Your Story (feat. Common & Ingrid Michaelson)
• It's Quiet Uptown (Kelly Clarkson)
• And I just love all the possibilities of
  Wrote My Way Out (Nas, Dave East, Lin-Manuel Miranda & Aloe Blacc - Topic) Really, what teacher of underprivileged teenagers wouldn't?

My students won't be able to listen to this version of Hamilton in my classroom given the cursing. It's infrequent, sure, but it's enough to not make the cut. This is definitely something I'm going to have to truly get used to hearing given this journey. Hearing cursing truly makes me uncomfortable. #firstworldproblems, right?

What album should I listen to next???