T Diddy :: Your Friendly Black Dentist

Every day the sun shines, I see my friend sitting under the shade in his spot. I do not actually know this man. I only know him from passing. My friend, as he sits on the Northwest corner shade of 157 street and St. Nicholas, the entire neighborhood respects him and watches as he gracefully soaks up the afternoon heat. During the early month of Spring, it still feels like a California Winter; however, it does not stop him soaking up the forgotten warmth that he once new the August that recently passed. It does not stop him showing off his gleaming ivory white Air Force Ones as gentle breeze slaps the cuff of his slacks against his ashy ankles. He owns that corner and everybody knows it. The kids playing playing tag, the drug dealers and the hard working men and women working for Federal Express know that the corner is his. My friend sits with his metal folding chair legs secured in the same cracks each day. Strong. Graceful and in somewhat beautiful. The daily activity of relaxing on the corner is what he looks forward to the most. Those not from the neighborhood may look at my friend as a lost cause or simply retired. I say, "No, you are so ignorant." My friend is simply living and enjoying everyday life. This is something that I want to do.

While I am not the Mark Anderson's or Amanda Liang's of the world, I do enjoy my movies. Last night, I finally watch "Sideways." Simply put, this was a brilliant movie. This is a modern day more mature "Swingers". Sideways does everything perfect without losing what many movies today lack - a plot and a great dialogue. This movie will not wow you with special effects. However, it keeps you glued interacting and empathizing with the Jack's and Miles lives. This is done with a simplistic approach with real-life dialogue. Best of all, Sideways provides one of the best endings I have ever seen. I was laying down and I actually had to sit up and say, "That was a good movie!" as I yearned for more.

Now, Sideways was the movie. What I have is Sideways in my real life. Yes, that is right, right hear in New York my life is sideways. "Why is that," you may ask. Well, let me tell you. In my life, Miles is actually Mark Anderson and Jack is Slaven Zivkovic.
Imagine we are at a bar in Mid-town New York. The bar is crowded, but not packed. There is a buzz in the air as hints of barley and hops brush your sensations right. The vibe is right and their are a few honeys showing off their legs because the weather is warm. Then all of a sudden.......
"That girl is hot dude!", exclaims Slaven. "Mark, you need to go talk to her. She is checking you out. I can tell. She is way into you!

"Shut the fuck up Slav," retorts Mark. "She is not into me. She is with her friends and we have not even made eye contact."

"Mark, whatever dude! She wants you. Yes, she does. You need to go pimp her foo!"

"Slav! No! I am not going to pimp her. I don't want to pimp her. In fact, I don't think she is that attractive. Plus, I am just chilling with my boys have cold ones."

As Slav puts on his shit eating grin, "Dude, you are a pussy. You need to get the shaft rubbed. You need to Pimp more foo. You are so money. What is wrong with you?"

"Shut the fuck up!"
"Why?"
"Cause dude, you always want to pimp. You tell me to pimp. I don't want to pimp. I want to do it right and find women with the same morals and who understands my humor."

Laughing, "Dude, you have to realize the bitches are hustlers too. In fact, they want to be pimped. Look at the hottie. She is just begging for the one-eyed trouser monster. And fool, you need to be the one that gives it to her!"

"No, fuck you. Shut the fuck up!" screams Mark, indicating the beginning of cyclic conversation that will last throughout the night. Not only will it last this night, but it will be the conversation the next time Slaven and Mark get together. This leaves me to thinking that this has been the conversation when they are always together. From the Benton house, Broadway in San Francisco, the hotel balcony at the Marriott in Cancun, and now to the mean streets of New York.

I see why they call the movie 'Sideways'. It spans the nation, state by state.

Stephen A. Smith is the worst sports analyst in the world. He may be the worst in the history of the profession. He is even worst than Stuart Scott. Analysts have stopped analyzing and providing stats. Instead, they are about being cool and more vogue than Madonna. The provide opinions using cliches and screaming tactics. This is old. Very Old! This is not mentioning the dramatic facial expressions. When did sports commentary become a man's soap opera? Save the drama. I want to know how players perform. I don't want to hear about how people are bad because they are play poker in the club house. Commentators need to have the personality of Age. Age sticks to the facts and his soothing voice is easy on the ears. I say Age, retire from Uptilt and become a commentator. We need you more than ever. I just cannot take the screaming disbelieving huff and puff of Stephen A. Smith anymore. Please save me and our beloved sports.