Sunday Reflections: "bad card", great moment.

i'm listening to music again. sometimes as i'm in the process of creating, i just cleanse myself from as much sound within my control. but now and unexpectedly, my culture made a surprise return visit in the form of "Bad Card", a song written by Robert Nesta Marley on the Uprising album. i remember the album because when i first heard this tune, i had to get my own, purchased in Kingston, Jamaica (land we love). this is not one of Marley's more popular and commercial of tracks, but it should always have been. "Bad Card" holds so much sentiment and emotion that has just burst back in my life - as if i hit an oil line that had been considered dry a fairly long time. (as i write, i listen to this song on constant repeat.) so how did this song just explode back into my conscious? i was spending time at a friends apartment in Brooklyn. we were just chillin' out to his extensive and eclectic music from his mac. he had no specific playlist, but randomly i heard some Marley. but then this... "Bad Card" came on and it took me to one very memorable moment.

does not music place you back to certain moments of life? even as i listen now, i am a youth again, walking the streets of Kingston, enjoying the heat of the day and the smells of roast breadfruit and pan chicken sold cheap on the summertime streets. i listen more... and i am but a child who finds this one record of Bob Marley, "Natty Dread". my parents? strict and ol' school, yet even they couldn't turn their eyes away from a fellow countryman who changed the world with his voice. my parents didn't encourage the use of "us" speaking pat-wah. for that was not how "we" spoke. but it was funny to hear them move far away from this when me, or either my brother or sister were being punished. and when guests came over it all started out proper, but a few white rum and cokes, or Guinness and Red Stripes later, that all fell by the wayside.


Natty Dread was my first introduction to Bob Marley and his music. i don't remember my age, but i was well under 8 years of age when i found and took it into my room, locked the door and listened over and over again - each song a multiple of times. (like now!) i would listen to that record for hours at a time for nights on end. you know those points in a song that make you... when you hear it, you want to hold on to it forever? sometimes there's a build up to it and then that moment... and then it's gone! so i have to listen to it again. i want to get inside it. be in it and keep that moment or moments for ever. this album had all the lyrics in the record sleeve and, although it wasn't accurate, i learned every song. i wrote out all the lyrics on a pad of yellow legal paper that my father allowed me to use. i wanted to evoke his soul! Bob Marley was entering me as i dissected every aspect of what made him who he has been to all that come in contact with his music. i was studying this man, though i did not know it at the time - playing this record over and over again; holding the cover and looking at all the pictures and trying to understand - to see the soul rebel within those eyes.

i still never really defined what it was that i was doing as a child that still follows me even now. still craving that note, or those notes that lead to that one note or moment i can't ever hold on to. how about the way one inflects his or her voice in a way that is just... right. but i still love the challenge to capture or experience that... thing that it does to me and hold it forever. always fleeting, but still grasping... over and over again.

now i'm "back a yaad": Jamaica. i am in my teens and this time is special! because Jamaica has qualified for the world cup for the 1st time and my father had acquired tickets for us with some friends in a box right next to P.J. Paterson, our prime minister at the time. i don't quite remember if we had already qualified or not, but tensions were not high, and we seemed to have had enough points even with a tie. there were murmurings about three players from England and the premiere league, but because they were of Jamaican descent were able to represent. it was a good thing because they were good and organized, so i don't know what all the fuss was about.


we made it to Jamaica National Stadium! my (half) brother and his wife were there as well as "Uncle" Dennis, a close family friend. i remember being in that stadium before. running for Olympic trials as a 400 meter hurdler. the place was packed with everyone wearing the countries colors with great pride. ah, the people - my people! music is the heartbeat of the people, and the speaker boxes were stacked high and played as often as there was no action on the field. it was a party before, during and after the game. i had to have my father get some pepper shrimp they were selling and downed a Guinness or two. my father is a different person when in Jamaica. he is happy and seems more... free.

the game went along great and i was enjoying the experience. now it is half time and the players have left the field. but i could never predict or expect to believe what just was about to happen. the selector, or dj, played "Bad Card"! sounds simple at first - for the stadium was filled with all sorts of great tunes playing time and again. but when this song played, it transcended the whole stadium to unity in one instant. the song starts with just a few measures of music, and then that voice: "dem a - go tired fi see we face, can't get we out of the race..." the crowd erupted, but in sync and in a rhythm that only Jamaicans possess! the words speak so much more in those two lines that can be written down. as the "massives" move and sung to this song, i too, danced and sung along, honored knowing i was apart of something very unique and special. this little country, this island that can not and will not be ignored by the world remains and thrives and defies all odds and obstacles without any apologies. when a tune does what "Bad Card" did that day, only one thing can happen. it is traditional for the selector to wheel that track back and play it again.



he builds it up to a point and then it halts and then is replayed with great fan fair. hmm... this sounds familiar. maybe he understands that we all long for that one moment that we wish could hold on to and would last for ever. he did this over and over again as there was no protest. i was filled with so much pride, joy and excitement to watch my people - to be apart of a rich culture that "they" just cannot get "we" out of the race. the song speaks of a game where one of the players draws a bad card, but this... was a great moment!

Sunday Reflections: "bad card", great moment.

i'm listening to music again. sometimes as i'm in the process of creating, i just cleanse myself from as much sound within my control. but now and unexpectedly, my culture made a surprise return visit in the form of "Bad Card", a song written by Robert Nesta Marley on the Uprising album. i remember the album because when i first heard this tune, i had to get my own, purchased in Kingston, Jamaica (land we love). this is not one of Marley's more popular and commercial of tracks, but it should always have been. "Bad Card" holds so much sentiment and emotion that has just burst back in my life - as if i hit an oil line that had been considered dry a fairly long time. (as i write, i listen to this song on constant repeat.) so how did this song just explode back into my conscious? i was spending time at a friends apartment in Brooklyn. we were just chillin' out to his extensive and eclectic music from his mac. he had no specific playlist, but randomly i heard some Marley. but then this... "Bad Card" came on and it took me to one very memorable moment.

does not music place you back to certain moments of life? even as i listen now, i am a youth again, walking the streets of Kingston, enjoying the heat of the day and the smells of roast breadfruit and pan chicken sold cheap on the summertime streets. i listen more... and i am but a child who finds this one record of Bob Marley, "Natty Dread". my parents? strict and ol' school, yet even they couldn't turn their eyes away from a fellow countryman who changed the world with his voice. my parents didn't encourage the use of "us" speaking pat-wah. for that was not how "we" spoke. but it was funny to hear them move far away from this when me, or either my brother or sister were being punished. and when guests came over it all started out proper, but a few white rum and cokes, or Guinness and Red Stripes later, that all fell by the wayside.


Natty Dread was my first introduction to Bob Marley and his music. i don't remember my age, but i was well under 8 years of age when i found and took it into my room, locked the door and listened over and over again - each song a multiple of times. (like now!) i would listen to that record for hours at a time for nights on end. you know those points in a song that make you... when you hear it, you want to hold on to it forever? sometimes there's a build up to it and then that moment... and then it's gone! so i have to listen to it again. i want to get inside it. be in it and keep that moment or moments for ever. this album had all the lyrics in the record sleeve and, although it wasn't accurate, i learned every song. i wrote out all the lyrics on a pad of yellow legal paper that my father allowed me to use. i wanted to evoke his soul! Bob Marley was entering me as i dissected every aspect of what made him who he has been to all that come in contact with his music. i was studying this man, though i did not know it at the time - playing this record over and over again; holding the cover and looking at all the pictures and trying to understand - to see the soul rebel within those eyes.

i still never really defined what it was that i was doing as a child that still follows me even now. still craving that note, or those notes that lead to that one note or moment i can't ever hold on to. how about the way one inflects his or her voice in a way that is just... right. but i still love the challenge to capture or experience that... thing that it does to me and hold it forever. always fleeting, but still grasping... over and over again.

now i'm "back a yaad": Jamaica. i am in my teens and this time is special! because Jamaica has qualified for the world cup for the 1st time and my father had acquired tickets for us with some friends in a box right next to P.J. Paterson, our prime minister at the time. i don't quite remember if we had already qualified or not, but tensions were not high, and we seemed to have had enough points even with a tie. there were murmurings about three players from England and the premiere league, but because they were of Jamaican descent were able to represent. it was a good thing because they were good and organized, so i don't know what all the fuss was about.


we made it to Jamaica National Stadium! my (half) brother and his wife were there as well as "Uncle" Dennis, a close family friend. i remember being in that stadium before. running for Olympic trials as a 400 meter hurdler. the place was packed with everyone wearing the countries colors with great pride. ah, the people - my people! music is the heartbeat of the people, and the speaker boxes were stacked high and played as often as there was no action on the field. it was a party before, during and after the game. i had to have my father get some pepper shrimp they were selling and downed a Guinness or two. my father is a different person when in Jamaica. he is happy and seems more... free.

the game went along great and i was enjoying the experience. now it is half time and the players have left the field. but i could never predict or expect to believe what just was about to happen. the selector, or dj, played "Bad Card"! sounds simple at first - for the stadium was filled with all sorts of great tunes playing time and again. but when this song played, it transcended the whole stadium to unity in one instant. the song starts with just a few measures of music, and then that voice: "dem a - go tired fi see we face, can't get we out of the race..." the crowd erupted, but in sync and in a rhythm that only Jamaicans possess! the words speak so much more in those two lines that can be written down. as the "massives" move and sung to this song, i too, danced and sung along, honored knowing i was apart of something very unique and special. this little country, this island that can not and will not be ignored by the world remains and thrives and defies all odds and obstacles without any apologies. when a tune does what "Bad Card" did that day, only one thing can happen. it is traditional for the selector to wheel that track back and play it again.



he builds it up to a point and then it halts and then is replayed with great fan fair. hmm... this sounds familiar. maybe he understands that we all long for that one moment that we wish could hold on to and would last for ever. he did this over and over again as there was no protest. i was filled with so much pride, joy and excitement to watch my people - to be apart of a rich culture that "they" just cannot get "we" out of the race. the song speaks of a game where one of the players draws a bad card, but this... was a great moment!

Sunday Reflections: a blockbuster night.

New York can be a lonely place for any determined artist, especially one that has always cherished family. i was living in the upper east side at the time and was just feeling... well, maybe not home sick per se. it's just that most of my closest friends and loved ones are scattered all over the world. i am so driven in my work and often times perplexed. it takes so much of my time that casual socializing is a distant after thought. who has time for that when there's a world to conquer! i'm quite content with my situation for the most part, because i always say (or convince myself) that i would rather be alone than to waste time with superficial acquaintances. don't get me wrong, i love the good friends i have made in the city (as busy as these over-achievers are), but there are those that are so special to me, that i wish they were here more times than not. but at the oddest times i am reminded of this when i get an email, text, facebook or skype message. i even made friends with one that bbm's me from Spain. it is in these odd times that i realize the true strength in what i have no matter how isolated i've been or how far away they may be. true love and closeness is farther reaching than any distance or time!

on several occasions i would take walks a block or two away to this convenient store nearby. there was a deli just a few feet away that i started boycotting because they charged almost $4.00 for a Cadbury's Fruit & Nut chocolate bar and almost $8.oo for one sleeve of Oreo cookies. the extra 1 1/2 blocks walk was defiantly well worth it.

i always passed by the Blockbuster store in order to get to the deli i had chosen over the one nearby. ah! the bright blue lights brought back memories of times when (at least) i think there was less preoccupation with pressure or the stress that is life. there was no such thing as Netflix, so on weekends while in grade school, i would often spend it over friends where the only thing that was stressing was how much fun and adventure we could squeeze in within a night and two days. i had a ritual when entering this magic movie land. i always started from the end of the alphabet and made my way around to the beginning - narrowing my search with a mental note of my favorites and taking up the movies that only had 1 or 2 remaining on the shelf. the other trick i learned was to ask the front desk about the recent returns. sometimes you would get a nice lucky gem that would otherwise be considered out, before they restocked them onto the shelves.

i remembered! i remembered the excitement and anticipation that i had in going, and also maybe even getting an expensive single bag of microwave popcorn just in case we had run out of what we had at home. i would also have to throw in a vanilla coke as an extra treat as well. (that became my favorite choice when cravings rose for junk food.)

well, i passed by this Blockbuster a few times too many! daring to go in, but saying to myself that at this day and age it was not in the least worth it. and why would anyone want to walk into a store when you can have a movie sent to your doorsteps, or just stream it right to your tv... but this night was different and i wanted not to think about my career and the work and the sacrifice that comes with much isolation. this night i wanted to re-live a time it seemed i was constantly smiling - smiling and shining inside and out, and not caring about much of anything else! when i entered, the salesman said hello as they are made to do, but i took it with a conscious sense of such great appreciation as i gave an extra effort in kindness and extending the brief conversation. i went in and picked out my movies - starting as i did before, from the end of the alphabet and making my way around. my insides were all a-stir as i made it my point to indulge in this joyful homage to happy past memories and purchased 3 overpriced rentals, got the Act II Movie Theatre Butter popcorn and a giant size pack of Gummie Bears... and of course i got a vanilla coke! my night was nothing less than a blockbuster!!!