Turn off that MotherF#%cking Radio!

The other morning I had to meet people concerning a writing gig I was offered, the problem was that the car ride to meet these gentlemen would be over an hour long. I hopped in my car and headed toward my destination. As I was driving, eating a sandwich, and rifling through my CD's(yes I am a multi-tasker) I come to the realization that I haven't heard the radio in a while. I actually sat there, knowing that the radio is 95% bullshit, trying to decide if I should give the public airways a chance and listen for a while. "Fuck it", I figured as I pressed the radio button on my CD player.

I turned to the most popular urban station in the city and the first thing I hear is a morning radio show, with a DJ that I respect. I respect him because he has been at that station for a long time, and I know that he loves "Real" Hip Hop. About 4 minutes into the show a sudden rush of sadness hits me, not because Rosario Dawson never returns my love letters, but because I realize that a good DJ who loves Hip Hop at its purest form is forced to play the most mindless drivel imaginable. Frustrated, I turn the channel to a popular local 80's pop station. Me, being a child of the 80's, have no qualms in expressing the fact that I know songs by Culture Club, Flock of Seagulls, Wham!, and Duran Duran verbatim. Suddenly Billy Idol's "Rebel Yell" comes on and I barely mouth the words to myself. The next thing I know I am screaming the lyrics as I sat in traffic, looking over and seeing two 30-something aged sisters looking at me like I had lost my damn mind. Usually, when a near-by driver catches me doing something that most people would find embarrassing(i.e Singing, picking my nose), instead of stopping what I am doing I turn to them and do exactly what they "caught" me doing in their direction. I guess a dreadlocked man singing a mid-80's rock hit is scary to other African Americans, so they rolled up their windows and looked forward.

I flip through the channels some more and briefly listen to the new Mariah Carey song. As I listen to it something ironic about it slapped me in the face. Does anybody find irony in the fact that her love interest in her video, an actor named Wentworth Miller, played in a movie called "The Human Stain" where he went his entire life denying he was black, passing off as white?(He was the Anthony Hopkins character as a young man)Is it just me or am I overanalyzing as usual? As I am thinking about Mariah Carey and the post where I ficticiously "dated her", I attempt to change lanes and almost hit a motorist in a brand new Lexus. Knowing it was my fault I motion as to say, "My bad" but the guy gives me the finger and starts talking absolute shit. I ignore him at first until he yells something about "beating my ass", then I pull up beside him and say something embarrassingly masculine like "You aren't built like that homey, Shut your fucking mouth!"

Road rage issues aside, I reach down and turn the channel to another urban station, this one not as popular as the first one I tried. Apparently Missy Elliot has a new song out, not to hate but doesn't all her shit sound the same? I mean, I know she is from my same area and I am truly proud of her success, but it seems that she has the same formula each album.(Dance track, subpar rapping, old school sample) I turn back to another urban station, and for some reason I sit through two wildly unimaginative R&B songs. What happened to R&B? Back in the day you had real men like Otis Redding, Isaac Hayes, and Stevie Wonder belting out harmonious tunes to make women relieve themselves of any undergarments that they were wearing. Shit, even not so manly men like Prince and Rick James were acceptable because we all knew that they were going home with someone's girl after one of their concerts. Now, it is a bunch of whiny ass pretty boys talking about how they will "steal your girlfriend". I wish one of those newschool R&B clowns would approach my girl with that shit, my mouth would water like pavlov's dog right before I systematically beat the brakes off of them and snatch the gaudy ass jewelry off of their necks.

I am a few miles from my destination and I am frustrated for a few reasons. 1: I realize that I must be masochistic to listen to the radio knowing how much bullshit comes out of it. 2. Why won't Rosario return any of my letters? Do you think me sending her a lock of my hair was a bit much? 3. The men who I am meeting sure were kissing my ass over the phone. They claim they liked my blog and everything, but they sounded like car salesmen to me and that made me suddenly feel uncomfortable.

Driving around lost I let a few rap songs play without turning them off immediately, which makes piss poor navigation skills even a bigger burden. I suddenly get the bright idea to have t-shirts made up saying, "I don't give a fat baby's ass who Mike Jones is!!", I think that they would sell. I know that Hip Hop will never die, but could we just fake it's death and put her in a witness protection service so she could start over? I flip back and forth through the stations for the last time, and I finally figure out that most radio stations play the same 6 songs all day!! I'm not crazy, I swear, but I look down at my CD's and it was like they were speaking to me, saying, "You could have just played us man, and avoided all that foolishness." I start to answer them back, but my black ass has enough problems, I don't need to start talking to inanimate objects.

I reach the office of the two men who "like my writing so much" and I am greeted by their beautiful receptionist. At least I think she was beautiful, since my eyes were fixed on her cleavage that probably measured about a country mile. She went on and on about how she "liked my blog", and how "talented I am" so I thanked her for her kind words. I asked her, "Which post is your favorite?", then she gave me a blank stare and said "All of them!" Her ass didn't read my blog which just underlined the fact that these guys were trying to blow smoke up my ass. I was led into their office, and before they could get a word out I said, "Are you guys full of shit or what? I had to endure the horror of listening to the radio while driving in my car for an hour. Plus, you made your receptionist lie and say that she "liked my blog", you fuckers better be legit!" Nothing gets you more mad then when someone laughs at your impromptu rage. They said, "That is exactly the energy we want! We would love for you to write for us!"

For the next several moments I sat with them and talked about writing, my life, and other random topics. Things look good for my future writing venture, but if I make that long trek again you better believe that I will play nothing but CD's. Fuck the Radio!