“Nothing should come before your fam, from ki’s to quarters, grams.”
My apology for the blog being a day late, y’all. I was tired then a MF last night. I was so tired I didn’t even smoke a J after work. AND I only worked a half day (second half). Yeah, I know. That’s some shit. But anyway...
Amtrak cars smell like old, stale white men. And they never turn the cabin lights off. It’s hard to go to sleep under interrogation room lights. “You know you done fucked up, right?” Type shit. But damn it, I had both seats to myself for the duration of the trip and we made perfect time. Shouts out to Moynihan Train Hall and Amtrak Lounge. Shoutout to Amtrak. I’m finna take one to Hawaii next summer. Who’s coming with me? Oh, ok. Well bump y’all then. No souvenirs for none of youse.
Homecoming is a cherished Negro tradition, whether it be the church house or university hall. It’s an annual opportunity to return to home base and coalesce with loved ones. Homecoming is perhaps the most important event on the HBCU calendar after graduation. There’s the obligatory step show, parties for students AND alumni, a concert (if it’s in the budget) and the football game. The game is usually against a pushover, all but guaranteeing a win for the home team (unless they’re completely ass). I’ve had the privilege of going to a few different homecomings, and they had their own unique flavor. Howard University, the Harvard of HBCU, probably has the most well-known homecoming, immortalized by the BIG fella’s bars, “may see me in DC at Howard’s homecoming with my man Capone dumbing, fucking something.” If you didn’t attend an HBCU, there’s a good chance that you’ve never been to a homecoming. I’ll leave it at this: If you know someone who didn’t attend an HBCU but who’s been to an HBCU homecoming – ask them. Let them tell you what it’s like.
Shouts out to Coach Alvin Parker (my era) and the Virginia Union University Panthers football team. They beat the horse shit out of Lincoln University. When we left Hovey Field with about 1:57 left in the 4th Quarter, they had just scored to go up 56-0. Shout out to RB Jada Byers, the best back in Division II football. Word is he may play on Sundays in the future.
VUU Homecoming ’23 was an amazing affair. The yard was filled with alums and coeds, more of the former than the latter. The kids were extra litty. I saw bottles getting drunk and big J’s getting smoked. They woulda sent us home forever with our mamas had we smoked in the wide like that 25 years ago. Instead, we smoked in the dorms. And we smoked at cribs off the yard. But back to the point. The kids were lit like they were on Bourbon St. during Mardi Gras. Shouts out to them. I’m happy they can do their thing without having to worry about the campus fuzz getting crazy. I didn’t see a single campus police walking the yard. I only saw a few officers from the sheriff’s department here and there, but they weren’t there to harass students and alums for the trees. Having said all that, I didn’t smoke a chronic bud on the yard at homecoming. I didn’t have to. We smoked too many J’s and drank before we hit the yard. And we took edibles. I was wild loopy, mellow AF. The fraternities and sororities were out heavy. I saw a Delta (Delta Sigma Theta) or three (RIP mommy) who looked to be north of 70. Shouts out to Beta Epsilon. Shout out to Shareon. My classmate Kim’s daughter continued the legacy and crossed Alpha Kappa Alpha (AKA) days ago. Big ups to Kim, her daughter, my sisters (Jon Jon, Lisa, Apryl, Daisy, Shay, Meek) and the Alpha Eta chapter. I saw 8,000,001 Ques (Omega Psi Phi), including one of my closest brothers Rock and my big bro A-Wax. Do willie. Shout out to Z-Squad. I saw legend and NBA Hall of Famer Ben Wallace. My sis Jon Jon took a pic with Charles Oakley, but I didn’t see him on the yard this time. I saw plenty of people from my era. I’m not much of a party guy at this point in my life, but I did attend a rooftop party at The Graduate hotel. Keisha from my class threw the party. It was age appropriate for me, which is the only way I can fully enjoy a function in my old age. Keisha was a sweetheart all night. I’d definitely attend another event if she’s throwing it.
The squad had an Airbnb. I chose to stay by my lonely in a telly. Y’all know I’m a semi-recluse. And, just like senior year when I interned at WRIC-TV8 (ABC) all the way down Midlothian on Arboretum (southside), my Huntley family made sure I got scooped and dropped off every damn where from the moment I got off the Amtrak 10:30 AM Thursday. Big ups to my fam, especially Rock, Louie, Keith, Jon Jon and Darrell. There are so many of us, but I spent the most time with them. I love spending time with my friends of 25+ years. They are true sisters and brothers. We’ve been through damn near all aspects of life together – even when we are apart. I can always count on my Huntley Family. Case in point: Rock lives in Philly. I had a round trip ticket on Amtrak, purchased a month ago. He insisted that he take me up the Turnpike to the crib in the black Suburban. He really is the greatest. AND I just received an email from Amtrak tonight apologizing for the delay Sunday night. That would have meant a $70 Uber trip to travel about 8 miles (7.6) from Moynihan Train Hall to the crib . God is the greatest. But back to the ride home. We didn’t listen to the radio one second up I-95. Facts. We talked all the way up. That’s my dog for life. RIP to Shareon and Moses. I’m going to end this blog here because I want to keep it positive. My family knows why I’m going to end it here. But hey. Some beef is everlasting. Sides get taken. Those of us caught in the middle suffer the most. C’est la vie. LONG LIVE MEEK. I miss you girl.
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