Pokemon Go I Can’t Rock Witcha

So last week was quite the emotional time.  I was a wreck all a week.  Luckily Pokemon Go hit the streets over the weekend. I’m sure, for most, Pokemon Go gave people a fun outlet from the fuckery.  I’m sad to say I was not one of those people.  I’m not gonna call people losers or whatever just cause they wanna play a dumb game on their phone.  I listen to Podcasts at least 3hrs or more a day and I’m sure there are alot of folks who think that’s beyond lame.  Live ya life.  But when you leave the bar and dart out only to emerge and proclaim to the whole bar “I finally got a Pikachu” you know it’s already getting out of control.  And that actually happened at Casey’s Saturday Afternoon.  

Do I get the appeal? Sure, It’s a worldwide Pop Culture phenomenon as big as Drake and Rihanna on tour with Spice Girls and white girls with fat asses put together and people wanna be apart of that.  The mighty American Hero John Mayer plays it so it must be the hype shit.  There’s also the social element.  There was a massive Pokemon Go event at Tempe Town Lake here in AZ with thousands of attendees.  I like to believe there was alot of cool parents with their crazy kids runnin around catching Bulbasaurs and Jigglypuffs together as a family, but I’m sure it was more like a bunch of 20 something drunk and high folks running around falling to get that Charzard.  If I was with my niece and she wanted to kick it with Uncle I’d download Pokemon Go in a heartbeat and giggle and act crazy with her.  We’d have all the fun. 

As much as I wanna talk shit about this game and those who play it,  I can’t bring myself to do it.  If it was a RapStars Go or a Beer-centric game with the same concept I’d be all for it and i’m sure a bunch of my friends would too, so why would I make fun of come people who just wanna have social fun.  So I gave it a shot today.  I need to know what it’s all about. If I see my favorite Pokemon, Squirtle will I get all giggly and run super fast to catch em?

I started the game at 8am before I hit the gym.  When I tried to set up my Pokemon Go account I saw they wanted my Gmail.  NAW Homie!  You can’t get that Mr. Nintendo, but I will make a new Google account that will never be used again so let’s get it crackin.  This weirdo dude holding Pokeball with a yoga mat on his back and some Yeezy black and neon green colorways told me Pokemon are everywhere.  He talk too damn much!  I choose the lady Pokemon hunter cause I believe in equality.  I fux with lady Ghostbusters and whatnot.  I made my Pokemon girl look like a hypebeast but she stay woke!  So before I hit the gym there were three different Pokemon I could get and I grabbed me a Charzard cause it was the closest.  I threw my mighty Pokeball at the beast and captured him like a good Pokemon hunter is want to do.  I felt like the black Ash Ketchum, Cornillus Ketchum.  The tall yoga instructor told me good job and then said I’d have to to walk around searching for new Pokemon…and that’s when I knew I was done.  I have to walk around like a dum dum staring at my phone and not my environs and suddenly stop to catch em all?  No thank you, sir or ma’am.  I’ll just got hit these weights and take my ass to work.  

As I’m writing this in the night time, I reopened the game and saw there was some sort of scary lookin Pokemon up the street and I’m just not willing to make that sojourn to get this flying monster.  Beyond my laziness, I feel like a total dweeb walking around my neighborhood, staring down at my phone for seemingly no reason.  I have TV shows to watch and Pabst to drink.  I’m pretty much done with this game and positive I won’t open it again, just like snapchat.  

I will say tho, I get the appeal.  If I was a younger fella I’d be all about this game; it seems fun. I can see how you could get with some friends and make a day of it, exploring your neighborhood or city and just being a cool dweeb looking down at your phone for seemingly no reason.  If you have a child or babysittin’  it can be a fun bonding experience as well.  I’m sure If I didn’t give up on the game so quickly I’d prolly get more into it, but truth is my anxiety won’t let me play a game where I’m seemingly acting so bizarre around strangers.  But to everyone else enjoying the game I say Godspeed You! Pikachu Chaser! Don’t let a bunch of people who take themselves so seriously to make you have to defend your new passion.  Now use your water type Blastoise to eff up that punk ass Charzard cause Water Pokemon are stronger against Fire Pokemon, Ya’ll!  FYI, My favorite Pokemon back in the day was Psyduck and Wigglytuff cause that’s how I rolled.  Machamp and Geodude was cool too. I even saw the Pokemon movie with Mewtwo TWICE!  Look, not everyone came out the womb cool as shit jammin Nick Cave albums and having conversations about The Wire. Get it how you live and Prepare for Trouble.  Make it Double!   One last thing and imma bounce.  As a brotha who is all about anime, if they made this same game and it was a Dragonball Z Go game, I’d be writing about how I lost my job cause my Freiza was going against a dude at work’s Super Sayian Vegeta and yelled “Fuck Work, This is HAPPENING” as I rip off my shirt.

5 Black Life Moments We Can All Relate To

• The Black man nod:  The black man nod is key to being a dope brotha.  Just a quick upwards nod of acknowledgment letting the other brotha know you’re down.  If you do speak, it’s just a quick “Hey what’s up now?”  and keep it movin.  Nothing is worse than greeting another brotha with the black man nod and he looks at you like it’s code for “I’m gonna push you in the mudd, sucka!”.  

 

• Catching The Beat:  I can’t dance.  As a matter of fact, no Johnson man can dance but what we can do is catch the beat and two-step with the best of em!  If you put on 69 Boyz “Toosie Roll” I might give you a little sumthin sumthin but other than that I don’t have much for ya.  Me and my boy Alex can groove and bounce with the best of em tho.  We ain’t hittin no Quan or Milly Rockin but we can, have and will put the funk on and vibe like you’ve never seen before.  As much as I’d love to dance like Kid n’ Play or those kids from the Vine videos, I groove more like the Uncle with the semi-dry jheri curl fro at the family reunion.

• Drunkenly talk real shit that devolves into conspiracy theories:  We’ve all been there before.  You’re at a cookout.  Everyone is drinkin Hennessy and jammin to Mothership Connection. You made a couple plates and feeling good.  All the brothas have been drinkin since 1pm and now it’s 11 and only the dope cats are still around.  That’s when it gets real.  The Mothership Connection is replaced with the Curtis Mayfield’s classic Curtis/Live.  We are just outside standing up drinkin and start talkin about how we as black men need to get our stuff in order.  Not on some respectability politics type shit, just on some WE meaning us in this circle gotta make it happen.  Suddenly, there’s always one brotha who will start talkin that illuminati shit.  Next thing you know, MJ got murdered by the build a bear group and the government put AIDS in our chicken nuggets.  

• Getting together and being super loud:  We love to, as Biggie so eloquently put it, Party n’ Bullshit.  Whether it’s yelling “DOMINO NIGGA!” as you destroy the table or arguing about Jay-Z vs. Nas like it’s an arguments about family members, we love to do it AS LOUD AS POSSIBLE.  Spades table?  Watch the fuck out!  Talking about your favorite Martin episode?  Outsiders will be asking themselves, “Why are they being so aggressive and loud talking about ‘I’m not payin the five’?  They look like they’re about to fight but they’re laughing and running in circles.”  

• Gettin that fresh line up: Nothing is more important to the dope brotha than getting that fresh line up.  Black’ish did a whole episode about the importance of having a crisp line.  Having a dope haircut means absolutely nothing unless your line up is on point.  When your line up is on point you leave the barbershop thinking, no, knowing that you can conquer anything, pull any chick and just walk around like you’re that dude.  The only downside is that your powers can and will fade so in order to stay in optimal dopeness we must at least get a line up every week.  I’ve went weeks without getting my line up right because I didn’t have the time and boy oh boy, when your lineup is raggedy you leave the house KNOWING you won’t conquer shit, no girl is gonna talk to you and wear a hat you never wear because the line up is mad embarrassing.  My friends Becky and Emily will comment whether my lineup is up to snub and if they notice it’s rough then it’s time to go see Styles and fix it.  Can’t be dope without it.

The Crook Reception: Part Deux

Now that black love prevailed it’s time for the reception to begin. Some great moments in wedding history happened and I gotta let yall know about the highlights of the fun night that was the Crook wedding reception. Once again, congratulations and I am proud to have been apart of the beautiful day. But enough of that sappy-ness cause that’s not why I’m here so let’s get to it.

The greatest wedding speeches happened that night: So we were still figuring out who’s gonna go in what order. We figured Ray’s older brother, Bryan, should go first because he’s gonna speak from the heart and it’s gonna be all beautiful and stuff. So brotha Bryan get’s up there and damn near had the whole joint in tears. Ray’s his lil brother and, just as we suspected, Bryan definitely spoke from the heart. It was short, to the point and sweet. I can’t say the same for the rest of the final 3 groomsmen. First up, my twin brother Dominique Johnson.

Dominique is an LA comic who think he’s funnier than Aziz Ansari, Eddie Murphy and Tim Barry all put together so we knew his speech was gonna be funny. He proceeded to pretty much do a 4-5 min set about Ray making a list about who he likes more, Nikki or Tupac. It was brilliant because brotha Ray does love Tupac. The best part was everyone finally was able to hear the story about how Ray wanted to get drunk and we all just go in a corner and write. When Dominique’s speech was over, the photographer said, “so do we got a two drink minimum, I didn’t know it was comedy night.” In jest, of course but still unexpected to the whole crowd who has no Idea who we are.

Up next was Justin. Justin had been saying for a couple weeks that he wanted to roast Ray for his speech. Although Justin didn’t go all Jeff Ross the Roastmaster General on the whole operation and be super mean he did share some anecdotes that only he and Ray knew about growing up across the street from each other as kids. It definitely had heart but also some damning, yet amusing stories about Ray, especially the story about Ray teaching Justin how to drive stick at 2 in the morning. Justin’s timing was right on time and it was great to get insight into a young Ray.

In between Dominique and Justin’s speeches, two of Nikki’s bridesmaids got up there and said some of the prettiest speeches ever. They started crying cause they love each other and all that wonderful stuff. We got up there and just wanted to joke on Ray like we do on a daily basis. It was a good mix between sincerity and shit talking that just worked. And then it was my turn.

I told ray 2 weeks ago that I wanted to sing “Queen to Be” from the 1988 movie Coming to America. In that scene a portly gentleman gets up while prince akeem is to be married and just belts out “Sheees yoooourr queeeen to Bee” in the highest falsetto ever. We told Nikki that I wanted to do it and she was game. The day came and I told Ray’s sisters during breakfast that I wanted to do that for my speech and they thought it was such a good idea. There was no pussin out now. Too many people knew and they also know how I can shrink in a large crowd. But it was my turn to deliver. I stood up, walked to the center where Ray and Nikki were sitting, cleared my throat and just went for it. I couldn’t remember the lines so i had written them down and it was the most nerve wrecking think i’ve done since playing John Mellencamp in the IPS Elementary School 90 play about famous people from Indiana. I was visibly shaking but the fact that the crowd started clapping I knew I had made the right decision.

I was in a room full of black folks and if any room would appreciate this ridiculous moment in wedding history it would be this room. Hearing Ray and Nikki laugh was the best and validated my crazy idea of singing instead of talking. Also, to be clear, I CANNOT sing a lick but that made it all the better.
Now that all that formality was out of the way, it’s time to party!

Time to dance: So everyone was getting drunk and having fun but something was missing. What wedding would be complete without some dancing. The kids started it off with this whip/nae nae stuff which was totes adorbs. Kudos to the kids, but the old man in me came out and requested a song. I played R. Kelly’s “Step in the Name of Love” and I believe one of Ray’s sisters yelled out “Let’s get a soul train line goin.” That soul train line was LIT! We was clownin, hittin that two step and just laughing and having a good time. Then Justin said to play The 69 boyz “toosie roll” jam and it was on! The adults took over the dancery. Emily told us to play Drake so we put on “Hotline Bling”and I’ve never seen Ray really bust a move in my life but that brotha broke out that “Drake hittin the tennis balls” gif move and we bout died. Big Butts were shaking and we were having a ball!

Quote of the Year: So things are winding down and everyone’s figuring out our next move. There’s smatterings of some karaoke action. I ask Ray if he wanna go hit some Karaoke with us. He told me “Naw Homie, I’m wanna go smash.” to which I reply, “You can smash later come kick it for a bit.” My brotha then hit me with “Imma smash now and then smash later” and chucked the deuces! I put my hands in the air and just laughed. Raymond J was ready to just hang out with his new beautiful bride and dammit who could blame ‘em?

Playing my small part in this wedding made me care more about love. It reminded me why all my favorite movies are sappy love flicks and why I can’t get enough of those r&b love songs from back in the day. Love is the truth. Love is what we all want. Love is hard; any newly married couple or veterans in the love game can attest to this.  But what I do know is love is the best and we can all hope to have a love as strong as the Crooks.

 

Every Breath I Can’t Take

I’m a man in my 30’s who still has to carry around a damn inhaler.  I’ve had asthma for as long as I can remember.  When you’re a kid having bad lungs is apart of life.  You keep the yellow saviour AKA albuterol on the bench just in case.  Your parents pack it in your bag when you go to sleep over your friend’s house, and god help me if I go over a friends house and they have shaggy ass animals who they allow all over the furniture.  I might actually have to break out the machine with the scary mask that makes you sound like Darth Vadar (full disclosure: i don’t like Star Wars but I do appreciate a villain with breathing problems).

Most people grow out of their asthma and go on to run all the miles for fun and play pickup basketball without fear of having to take a 15 min break and several hits of the puffer just to feel like you’re not gonna die from lack of breath.  But since I’m not most people and I have the lung  capacity of an eight year old who smokes Newports I still carry around my puffer wherever I go.  Also have a deadly peanut allergy, but I don’t carry around an epi pen tho cause I choose to live a little bit more dangerously and just try to stay away from thai food and people eating those nasty ass orange peanut cracker snacks.

I feel like we’re friends now and I can share with you some painfully awkward moments in my asthmatic adventures.  One is a triumph over weak lungs thanks to a strong mack game.  The next one is about why i put my inhaler either in a bag or in my back pocket when I go out.  The last story is about as painfully awkward as it gets involving a one night stand and my inhaler.

So first the fun story.  Lemme paint a brief picture of the time we were living in. I was a fresh faced early 20’s brotha with the dopest fro of the early 2000’s.  I was working at a shoe store at the time.  I didn’t have cable so I didn’t understand why white people were so enamored with Rick James screaming “I’m Rick James bitch” all of a sudden or who the hell Avon Barksdale was.  Yet I digress.  So I’m at work hanging xxxl throwbacks, cause that’s what was the hot shit at the time, and this girl comes over and asks about some shoes.  I stop and help her.  Shorty was cute.  So I go grab her some shoes and I’m thinkin to myself I gotta holler at this girl.  It was the early parts of fall and the weather changing destroys my breathing so of course I had my inhaler on me.  I was talking to her and for some reason I couldn’t catch my breath, started wheezing and coughing so I took out my inhaler and took a couple puffs.  In front of this super pretty girl, without skipping a beat I tell her, “sorry bout that, you just took my breath away”.  She smiled and laughed.  I got my lungs back in order and got her number. We kicked it a bit but that was about it.  If i was some corny ass brotha that line wouldn’t have worked.  But it did and i’m proud of my younger self for being cool as a fan in Japan!  I just wish my next inhaler interaction with a lady was a bit smoother…lemme rephrase that. I wish my next inhaler interaction with a lady never fuckin happened.

So check it.  Even back in my crazy goin out days I was never a club dude.  My social anxiety and not wanting to spend 8.75 on a bud light kept me away. At this point in my life I was more going to punk bars and hitting as many shows as possible.  But every now and then I’d throw caution and bills to the wind and venture to Scottsdale for some club action.

I had to buy new clothes because all i had was black jeans and band shirts and I wouldn’t have gotten in with my Cursive shirt and tight gap jeans.  At this time everyone had to have a button up cause Jay-Z said so.  Fine!  I’ll go find a gaudy ass button up and a normal pair of jeans.  I was ready to go.  Had clean clothes on and my trusty inhaler in my right pocket.  We get to the club and of course I’m already complaining cause I’m sure i’m missing out on some weird strange I could’ve met at The Rogue.  It’s just not my scene, but whatever I’m gonna have fun anyway.  We was half lit anyway so I just rolled with it.  Also, at this time there was more fun hip hop being played than that EDM or Dubstep business they play now.  Ying-Yang Twinz, Usher, Lil Jon, Luda Cam’ron, etc. so it was cool.  We get in and I start gettin that liquid courage in me and I hit the dance floor tuff!  I’m a dancin fool.  When i’m drunk I’ll do more than just my same old two step and that night we was on one.  

So i’m dancing with this sexy ass sista and we gettin it in and she stops, turns around and gives me this weird ass look.  I’m drunk and befuddled and look at her like “where the booty go?” She points down at my crotch saying I got a boner and she didn’t appreciate that.  I took umbrage to her accusation cause it was just my inhaler.  I drunkenly, and with zero fucks pull out my inhaler and show her that it’s not my dick, it’s a little ass inhaler.  She looks at me and laughs, IN MY FACE!  I realized I just pulled out medicine cause my lungs ain’t shit in front of a pretty girl at a club and I was standing on the floor like a dummy with his inhaler in his hand.  The night at the club for me was over.  I ended up hitting up The Rogue and going to Palo Verde where I could have asthma without retribution.  It taught me a valuable lesson tho.  Be smart and put that hard plastic inhaler in your back pocket when hanging with ladies.

My last inhaler story is awkward enough to turn into a sketch at an improv show!  So i’m maybe either 29 or 30 at the time.  I have all the crazy going out and drinking every night out of my system.  At this point in my life I just watch woody allen movies, listen to Jazz, exist and have fun.  Nothing’s forced.

I like to go out by myself and grab a drink every now and then.  Don’t judge me. Drinking solo is dope as long as you don’t get hammered wasted and start some bullmess with the other patrons.    Sometimes it’s fruitless and a waste of time but sometimes drinking alone can turn into drinking with a pretty girl.  I was getting a bit tipsy and decided that the best course of action was NOT to go home but to text this random ass girl who i never really hit up before.  So I drunkenly texted her a nice “Sup” text.  Lame I know, but I wasn’t even expecting a response.

She texted me back on some let’s kick it shit.  Bet!  We meet up at a different bar.  We proceeded to get drunk and have all the fun.  She wanted to go back to her spot and do the “netflix and chill” before it became the meme of 2015.  We messed around and I stayed the night.  Her bed was waaaay more comfortable than mine.  Pillow game was on point.  So I shake the spot super early, like 6ish without waking her up or saying bye.  I get home and go back to sleep cause drunk sleep ain’t sleep.  My lungs are feeling kinda congested and stuffed up.  I look around for my trusty inhaler and IT’S NOT THERE!

I don’t panic yet cause I just kinda left a trail of clothes and crumpled receipts from the front door to my bedroom and it’s gotta be there.  I go and scour the apartment and my bright ass yellow inhaler is nowhere to be found.

I sober up very quickly because I realized i left my inhaler over ol’ girls house.  The girl who I didn’t say goodbye to.  The girl who I just texted on a drunken humbug. The girl who I had a one night stand with.  I figured my breathing isn’t so bad that I have to call this girl and ask if I left my inhaler at her spot.  I’ll deal with shortness of breath over having to call a girl who isn’t my girlfriend  “hey what’s up, so i think i may have left my inhaler at your house.”

These experiences are exactly why I will love being married.  She can get me my asthma medicine and epi pens and i’ll fill her prescriptions when she has the whooping cough or a headache cause the girl she works with is getting on her last nerve.