Does anybody remember if Lionel Richie recorded an earlier version of Lady? It would have to be around the time Kenny Rogers had performed the song. But my pops swears Richie did an earlier version which far more convincing than the version on his Definitive Collection bonus CD. This is one of those far out questions, I know. But, us music lovers love to do stuff like that. Compare renditions, acquire hard to find pieces, and appreciate material harmonically and melodically, as well as vocally.
As for me, I'm still having difficulty finding Greg Phillinganes' Lazy Nina. And it's not some awesome song here, just a nice upbeat Steely Dan-ish piece that I'd like to trot around in my iPod. And I can't seem to find it anywhere...

The iPodding 6-Train Car

No, this is not a freelance. This is a true story about my ride home Monday night. Missing the 4-Train to Brooklyn, I decided to hop on the 6-train, to transfer to the Q-train to Brooklyn, to the 3-train home (yeah, I take the long way home sometimes.) In any event, I board the 6-train at 42nd Street station, and two people sitting right near the door were sporting iPods!! Well, this is one way to feel at home, I thought. So I sat next to this mature-looking caucasian woman with her iPod. She looked at peace, so I assumed she was listening to some classical music piece. Meanwhile, the guy across from her, also caucasian, was bopping his head, so I knew he was having fun.
I settled down, and started playing...
It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over
Lenny Kravitz
Lenny Kravitz: Greatest Hits

This korean chick comes in the train from the 33rd Street Station, sat next to the guy, and just kept to herself. At that time, the guy looked at me, looking at him, and realised that this chick was that leave me alone, i'm iPodding kind of iPodder. The dude looked exasperated as though he lost the only chance of connecting with this korean girl. My heart went out to him.
In any event, the korean chick left the train at 14th Street/Union square station, leaving us three iPodders remaining. Finally, the dude had enough; he wanted to extend this iPod community into actual iPod communication. In other words, he wanted to know what we were listening to. He glances at my iPod, hinting he wants to hear. If he wants Lenny, give him Lenny, I laughed, disconnecting my headphones, and lending him some music. In hysteria, he laughed out loud to realise it was Kravitz I was playing. He finally allowed me to listen what was on his iPod, and to my utter disbelief:
Fly Away
Lenny Kravitz
Lenny Kravitz: Greatest Hits

We had a great time sharing our interest for Mr. Kravitz; so much so in fact, we had to spread our new fortune to the mature-looking woman. Shaking her head, trying to hold back her laugh, she finally caved in. Though she wasn't in the Lenny Kravitz celebration, we admired what she was playing anyway:
One I Love
Coldplay
In My Place

Then, we entered the Astor Place station.
And the fun stopped soon thereafter.
A bunch of kids came on the train, with their loud voices, and even louder noises. And they sat next to us iPodders, chatting at rather high decibel levels. In becoming really annoyed, we kept to ourselves pretty much after that. We didn't want these jabronies to get the idea it takes an iPod to attain unity. Nor did we want them to think we were some sort of weird zombies collectively communicating to find a way to silence them. I got off at Canal Street, and nodded to the dude; thanking him for my first iPodding on the train experience. And judging by the look in his eyes, it was his first as well. I hope he had as much fun as I did; for the few minutes it lasted anyway.

SSFs and Jazz... whoa!!

Now, there are single sexy females from all corners of the city. And there are jazz aficionados all over this city. But the combination of a single sexy female jazz aficionado is hard to come by. I mean, you gotta comb through hip-hoppers, the Usher fans, the music-video-dancer/poster pinup-wannabees, among others. It's a tough job; I should know, I've been doing it since sophomore year of high school.
So, in my last attempt to find my diamond in the rough, I've been actively participating in my intro to jazz class; commenting on the ghost-love relationship between Lester Young and Billie Holiday, trying to find out what the professor's distaste for smooth jazz is all about, and figuring out where to buy the best remastered collection of Johnny Coltrane music. In the process, I've been talking with this incredibly nice SSF, whose name escapes me for some reason, probably because I never asked her for it. And as it turns out, she and I share some common interests in jazz. So much so, she asked me for some great jazz clubs to go to in the city! Whoa, I thought. I don't want to give her just some answer, I need my answer to be well researched and thought out. Hell, I could've told her I planned to go the Smooth Jazz festival for my graduation present, and would've delighted in her coming. But I had to keep my cool, so I requested to get back to her on that question. Now, she'll be getting the know from me, and I might be able to invite her to a club! The start of something very potent here, folks. And it happened at Hunter College. Who would've guessed it!?!
Now, this chick did not forget her "flaws" at home. Her voice is very tinny, like a child almost. It can get irritating. While her word count is minimal, it does not promote long conversation. And hey, that might change. But, all I can do now is keep my fingers crossed, and see how it goes. I'm sure I can get past her voice. The question is, can my kliq do the same...

Road Block
Shaggy ft. Rik Rok
Road Block Riddim

Cops lay the SmackDown! on the Bootleg reign...

Work yesterday was as usual. It started a little slow, got a little busy, became very slow, and finished off really busy. My customers have apparently gotten me down to a science: anytime it takes me more than 1 minute, 25 seconds for Scarface to call for the next customer, you know that customer's has bogged him down with some dipstick shit. What can I say, these guys are absolutely right.
In any event, I proved for umpteenth time that day, and I had my driver (in reality, he's another teller with a car) drop me off at Kings Plaza. Funny conversation on the way there, too: I told him how discouraging it was if he took all the good-looking customers. If you guys can recall the original GreenPoint SSF who came to my window, and was flocked by the Old-Timer, she (the SSF) has been on that teller's line quite often, and yesterday was no exception. The dude chased me off to lunch it seemed, just so he can call on her. And her sister. Talk about lucky!
He assures me nothing's happening. Oh sure, nothing's happening. You're just laying your foundations for a final swoop that will seal the deal, I thought.
In returning to the topic, I found nothing at the Plaza, so I decided to check out some music at store I go to on Church Avenue. In taking the B41, and getting off at Nostrand Avenue (the last stop on this particular bus), I did not feel like riding another B41. So I turned on my iPod, and treaded a breezy 4 miles to the joint. En route, I passed by the Sears nearby, and found myself near Stop & Shop. And just finished parking on my side of the street was a black Ford Explorer, with two built caucasian dudes coming out. My first guess was that they were a part of the Home Delivery service from Stop & Shop, so I nodded in respect. But next thing I knew, some guy's body was slammed to the floor, resisting being handcuffed. Fortunately, his efforts didn't last long, and neither did his cohorts. Soon, they were in a small puddle in front of the Bally Total Fitness center next to S&S, handcuffed, and being read their rights.
Funny. I always had a thing about street vendors.
All they do is resell what they buy on Broadway and 28th Street in Manhattan. I had difficulty trusting their products, so I had just as much difficulty buying them from vendors. If you go on Canal Street in Chinatown, you always will see some Asians moving about with a shopping cart-wheeled platform, selling bootleg CD's. You'd figure some angry customer was just ripped off.
But the street vendors near Stop & Shop were different. They get customers on frequent basis, and have earned the monies of my kliq, and myself from time to time. These 2 for $5 CD hustlers would often sell mix CDs as well as commercial CD's to make a quick buck. And for all my DJ Fidel & Stone Love mix CDs, they play well, and I've had no problems. As of late, the kliq and I haven't seen those guys around in a long while now. We figured that being it still felt like winter, they wanted to make their money under reasonable conditions. I eventually found the joint on Church Avenue, but I do miss having the latest off-da-copier bootlegs which gave me my mixes first. As to the real reason why we haven't seen them in such a long while, we'll never know.
Perhaps, until now.
It didn't take me too long to figure it out either. Those were the street vendors running the bootleg CD joint whose bodies were being flung against the doors, and floors, a few hours ago. Those were the vendors who were being arrested by some secret task force. And the reason why we haven't seen them in a while was either because they were arrested before, or they wanted to prevent themselves from being arrested. I walked through the mess, in a state of shock of sorts. The CDs they were pushing, I mean selling, were all piled nice and neat in a section. And the cops were surveying the area, making sure no one was spared, as well as attracting the attention of everyone nearby.
One cop walks to the CDs, and starts measuring them up; eyeing them up and down, fairly uncertain as to what to do with them. Moments later, he said in modest tone:
Take them. They're free.
In no time, everyone nearby, and their mother's friends, were at the scene, grabbing everything they could find. Katz, even if I wanted to take something, by the time my head turned, the first batch of nearby bootlegs were gone. Being black with discomfort for being around cops, I proceeded to pace my way out of the scene. Before I fled though, I distinctly remember a much more gruffier, louder voice saying "put them back"...

As I type this, visions of black guys being tossed around to be handcuffed are being replayed in my head over and over again. The plea of the vendors, I'm only selling CD's and DVD's. The vendors huddled together in chains of shame and embarrassment. It was all a bit disconcerting. And the kliq was left speechless by the time I finished replaying the events to them. As to whether they were selling more than bootlegs, or whether this whole thing was RIAA's big plan to shut down piracy (and a bunch of civilians were given all the evidence), or whether those particular guys were up to no good, I really don't know. But what I do know is that was one moment I probably will remember for a long time. And thank God I wasn't involved in any way.

Well, I'm through storytelling. I got midterms to cram for.
Later...