How I got Lauryn Hill, Jay-Z, and Kaepernick to perform together.
The arena was rocking. From the beat blaring, crowd clapping and reciting all the words to Lost Ones like the pledge of allegiance, which, in my mind was weird and understandable considering Kaepernick, lauryn and Jays powerful defiance. At this stage of life, the thunderous energy of, young-old-men-women- black- white veterans, was earthquaking, my feet were moving, body vibrating like a black baby learning and rumbling to soul in their mother’s womb.
We gain vision through rhythm, so, now I’m emotional, feeling I need to remember this moment- cherish it like your mother’s last birthday kiss or voicemail.
Then I realize something is wrong, Lauryn ain’t saying any words, and I’m like” oh shit she forgot her lyrics. But as she was doing her magical black girl African roots bop, maneuvering a loose version of the start to an old school break dance, she kept repeating the words bye America, and the crowd starts booing. I thought Jay pulled a fast one on the league, but his payback has always been at the highest level.
And I’m like oh shit superwoman needs saving from a civilian, believing I could create my ghetto news moment, I jump up and start clapping my hands to the beat of Lost Ones and repeating “ONE” like I’m cuing a band to get on point. Kap is standing on the other side and joins in.Since he has biceps the size of footballs, he starts banging his fists against them. Right fist-BOOM- against left bicep, left fist-BOOM-against right bicep, reminding them he can still throw bombs, by any means necessary-the way he stays fit. Now, I’m standing directly behind the curtains on the couch that Jay is sitting on and he’s looking at me like who’s this Clark Kent wanna be, worrying about this fake kryptonite-because this is how his Justice league makes their green, giving people who want Blacks to fail the blues, taking them to school, like Nipsey and Snoop. But I’m clapping into a speaker that’s drowning out the boos for a few seconds at a time with Kap’s assistance and still repeating “ONE.” Then Jay, Lauryn, Nas, Rhapsody Kaepernick and myself go out and move the crowd back towards worship of the gods of truth they only accept when blacks entertain, subconsciously training them to see the problem is believing White history and it’s quest for peace. That ignorance is the real plague we need to cure.
After I saved the night, I was sitting backstage fanning my big mouth blowing awkward compliments that started to murk up the air. I said this gotta feel like when Jay paid Wayne’s taxes, immediately realizing how much Lauren had personally paid for her freedom that white America didn’t have the right to take, and now she is settling the score every chance she gets.
Jay sucked is teeth bringing out them west Indian roots, and turned his mouth to the side the way we used to do as kids being dissed, getting exposed for secrets nobody knew except close intimate friends- before simply replying. “Oh woooord” to keep his mouth busy, as he thought of ways to hide the hurt and cover embarrassment, before returning to a cool demeanor, subtly letting me know I should have learned my lesson by now watching his chess moves. And I shouldn’t be speaking to him about his personal business like a friend who in a blink turned foe, searching for answers only a snake would seek, giving me the side eye as he contemplates ruining all I hold.
I was waiting-NO-HOPING for his nervous laugh because I was shaking and could feel my bald head beading with sweat. I kept thinking “Who turned all the got damn strobe lights on backstage” because I swore I was in a shady part of the room. Luckily we had a doctor giving out snoop’s dream, then I woke up.
