Dear Summer

Summer:


"Or could it be that I'm the one that she's supposed to be with, and together walk this twisted---staircase to something realistic..."


Until I find Ms. Just For T, you can bet on most of my blogs beginning with some sort of relationship lyric.


And just for the record, Ms. Gilda has yet to invite me to church. She musta done her scouting report on me and found out I ain't shit. I'm saying though, I'm a changed man. So what time is devotion?


Twenty summers ago, I was exactly one month from dorm check in: Room 206 Huntley Hall, Virginia Union University, 1500 North Lombardy Street, Richmond, Virginia. I worked as an assistant to my Aunt Sandra in Billing at Therapeutic Intervention on 207th & Bainbridge in the X by Montefiore Hospital. When off the clock I was either on Gleason & Rosedale in the X or my beloved Jefferson Projects on the eastside of Harlem, waaaaay blunted, running a muck with my big cousin Nut. That was one magical summer (of many consecutive); I swear it's just a blink away at times. The world was at my fingertips. My ambition was on 1,000. My point? Time flies, and young men become old men at the snap of a finger. Carpe diem.


Whenever I play Lord Finesse "Game Plan," I feel invincible all five minutes and nine seconds of the song. Another summer '96 banger. Don't get it twisted, my game is still official. Ask your Auntie.


Dad hats? Check. Fly ass tees, even a la carte? Check. New Era crewunB limited edition SnapBacks? Check. Fly colors? Check. After you finish this blog and make your purchases, keep in contact with us. On IG we're @theunbearablescrew. Catch us on the Twitter @crewunB. I'm on @tymonday. So is our CEO, @themisterceizzo. That's all for now. Time to shake a leg & get up in the wind suga.