Some Observations about Airports

So, recently I had the chance to spend some quality time in three of the South's finest cities or, rather, their airports, and they all got me thinking about how accurately airports reflect stereotypes about their cities. For example, Indianapolis' is small and unassuming - polite, even, if one can refer to an entire building that way. La Guardia is vaguely grimy and bustling with aggressive people worried more about their destination than the obstacles in getting there. I digress, though - let's get to the ones that made me realize this:

Terminal E of Houston's George Bush International Airport is clean and bright and flat and spacious, huge and well-lit in the way that I have always imagined Texas to be. It is a fine enough spot to spend a layover of several hours, but here is the really important part: in the middle of the terminal you look up and all of a sudden you are in great oval ringed with televisions fifteen feet off the ground that project a constant stream of fractals. And standing there, frozen by this bizarre display, you realize that not only are there acid-trip colors floating above you, there are strange noises as well – blips and chimes and croaks bubbling from the ether. It is the pastel walkways and muzak of a thousand U.S. airports chopped-and-screwed, the hazy output of an airport architect after a DJ-Screw-sized cup of promethazine. In short: it is exactly what you would expect of Houston if you only listened to rap music.

New Orleans’ Louis Armstrong International, however, is something different altogether: small, poorly-lit, cramped with a slightly brackish quality to the air, like I imagine the city itself. I unfortunately never saw New Orleans during the day (the reason for this whole trip was an ultimate frisbee tournament in Baton Rouge), but driving around on Friday night I got the impression that the whole place carried with it an fog of mystery not unlike that of the eerily abandoned airport terminal, a sense only aided by the myriad one-way streets and fading one-story Spanish houses that we navigated on the way to pick up friends. In sum: if a swamp were a city, it would be New Orleans, and if any airport were a swamp, it would be Louis Armstrong International.

The only thing I have to say about Atlanta’s airport (and this is the one that I can't really pin into my theory because really my thoughts about the ATL are primarily influenced by the Dungeon Family and I would be pretty upset with myself if I tried to relate their music to a glorified holding cell) is that it is extremely well-furnished when it comes to purveyors of unappealing food, that it has a SMOKING ROOM attached to the terminal as if it were still acceptable to smoke indoors anywhere, much less an airport, and that the speakers were playing Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” as I entered. Yes: I was Rick Rolled by the Atlanta airport.

Snow Day!

About two weeks ago, for the first time in probably five years, I had a snow day. Here is what that meant: I got to spend the day reading David Foster Wallace and watching rap videos on YouTube, the latter of which inspired me to actually write this little post. Because, you know, I have such a wide audience who hangs on every word of these bimonthly updates. Really, the same thing could have been accomplished by sending an email to one or two people, but this approach is way cooler and maybe will get me my big break as a derivative rap blogger.

This was going to be a longer post, but I got lazy (surprise!) and so I'm just including the best video from that day: one of the better songs off The Pretty Toney Album, "Run." The video version apparently has a verse by some Baltimore dude named Comp that didn't make the album cut (the verse is nothing special, save for one line which you can probably pick out on your own), but the real reasons to watch this are (1) Starkey Love's hat, and (2) the interlude right before Jada's verse where he masterfully works "I might gotta take my shirt off" into the scene. That interlude is why I've chosen the edited version to put up here; the uncensored cut skips this (to me) essential bit.

Also, The Lonely Island's Santana DVX is a great piece of music, if only because it features E-40 rapping as Carlos Santana. His verse is great, but what kills me every time is the conversation right before his verse starts - the word "hubbub" is not used nearly enough in modern day rap music.

Adventures of an oldhead

One of the things I've enjoyed most about living in Philadelphia is getting acquainted with Philly slang. Since I'm working in a school, I get to hear it all straight from those who use it most. Here's a bulleted list:

• Jawn - The most commonly used word in the language of Philly youth. It's basically a substitute for "thing," probably a corruption of "joint," and can be used in any situation imaginable. For example, my students will say "I need some help with this jawn," or draw a comparison between two things by saying "Like the number line jawn." One of the all-time greatest uses of it was relayed to me by Seth, who was in line to buy us lunchmeat and overheard a fellow ShopRite customer singing the praises of "those crushed red pepper jawns." I started saying it ironically to get laughs out of my City Year teammates, most of whom are from Philadelphia, but now it has entered my lexicon for real.
• Young bull - Essentially serves the same purpose as "dude" or "guy," but specifically refers to someone your same age or younger. It's said in such a way, however, that I had the hardest time trying to figure out if it was "young bull" or "young boy."
• Oldhead - The opposite of young bull, in that it refers to someone noticeably older than you. I think it also carries some negative connotations, implying that the person is out of touch with the major trends of the day or trying to be something he is not. Friends of mine have been called oldheads when they played some pickup basketball. Also, at least one of my students has referred to me as "oldhead," and I'm not sure whether to take this as an insult or not, because he also referred to his uncle this way. I'm pretty sure, though, that writing this post qualifies me as an oldhead.
  
• Drawin', or drawlin' - Used instead of "trippin'" or "triflin'" to describe something heinous, extreme, or unfair.
  
• Decent - This, for whatever reason, has come to mean "extraordinary," as in "My 18th birthday party is gonna be DECENT!" I'm told, though, that this is commonly used in Pittsburgh as well, but considering that I'd never heard it used like this until coming to the Illadelph, I'm counting it.
• Salty - This is something that I distinctly remember being said when I was in middle school in Indianapolis, but I'm including it here because of the way it is said, with a long, long "a" and no "l" to speak of. Saaaaawty. If something is salty, it sucks.
  
• Corny - This has pretty much preserved its meaning, but I am fascinateed by how often I hear it and how it apparently, along with salty, has become the adjective of choice when describing something that is profoundly uncool. For example, being overly sincere is corny. Being the teacher's pet is corny. I don't think you can be both corny and drawin', though. That might be too much.
  
• Hype - As in, "You too hype!" to descrive someone that is overly excited about something, or someone that is misbehaving in class. It has clear negative connotations, which is strange, because I've always associated being hyped up with being excited and prepared for something. I guess it is has overtones of being out of control in its common usage, but here it is almost entirely negative.
• Kick rocks - This is in the same vein as "get lost" or "go fly a kite" (if one were really into 1950s slang): "I would have told her to kick rocks!" I am completely baffled by its origins. My service leader uses this all the time.
  

So: on this Thanksgiving weekend, I am thankful for getting to serve in a West Philadelphia school, because otherwise I would never be able to understand the sentence "This jawn is corny; young bull be drawin'."

This time it's for real, I promise.

Here's a list of some things I wanted to write:

• A review of Michael Lewis' The Blind Side and specifically that book's treatment of race
• Some stuff about The Mixtape About Nothing and Tha Carter III, two records that will be linked in my mind for awhile because I listened to almost only them for two weeks this summer
• My thoughts on my first time attending Rock The Bells (I even took notes at the show!)
  
• Some pictures of my new digs in Philly
• Maybe a little bit of reflection on my employment as a City Year Greater Philadelphia Corps Member

Here's a list of what I actually did write:

• 
  

In reality, I'm kind of lazy and tempted by the fruit of the Guitar Hero. Also, I'm rewatching all of The Wire, which is awesome as always. I actually have a little bit about The Blind Side written, but I'm not sure that I'll ever feel comfortable enough with that piece of writing to put it up. The Rock The Bells post, on the other hand, is a different story, because that's about half done (thank you, Bolt Bus!), and I hope to complete that in the next week. Right now, my goal is one post per week, assuming I have enough things to talk about. For now, I leave you with two things:

The Abstract returns. Renaissance, indeed.

Brad (who's got a new post on the merits of Backbone) clued me in to The Sound of Young America, a PRI podcast with all kinds of interesting interviews. I've only listened to about 1.5 of them so far, but there are many which I anticipate hearing. It's another thing that will take away possible writing time, but radio interviews with Devin the Dude are just too good to pass up.

Until next time...

Back home again in Indiana

I'm home, which means copious amounts of free time to sleep and listen to the year's hot new releases (or leaks, as it were), such as:

and:

Unlike Tom Breihan, who inexplicably has decided to spend the rest of the week, plus at least one post extra, writing interminably long reviews of each individual song on the former, I myself am much more interested in hearing the Wale mixtape, if only because "Back in the Go Go" is an awesome song and "A Milli" makes my ears bleed. I also listened to Bun B's newest effort on drive home - it's no classic, but very solid. Probably overlong and too sonically similar over the course of the full album (things start to run together after awhile), but I really like Bun as a rapper - he's got one of my favorite voices in all of hip hop, and when he wants to he can really bring it. On II Trill he mostly sticks to the Caddy, clothes and coke talk that dominates his UGK verses, but there are a few songs where he gets outside it ("If It Was Up II Me," which outlines his solutions for all the major problems facing America today, and "Angel in the Sky," a heartfelt, if somewhat sappy, tribute to Pimp C). "Swang On Em," the Lupe song, is about as weird as you'd expect. The Weezy song ("Damn I'm Cold") is the standout for me right now, I think, but that's probably because I've heard it the most times and also because I think it's funny when rappers do sound effects. Anyway, I need to listen to it a few more times before I can make any real judgments about it. But, after one listen, it's a nice record.

Also, I am a college graduate. Weird.

Break a bootlegger leg

School is done, I'm waiting to hear back from jobs, and I have a bum leg. What does this mean? Lots of free time. Here's a rundown of some things that have happened recently:

• Rising Down dropped (yes, I know it was like a month ago), and is excellent. My one big gripe is that there's too much Truck North and P.O.R.N. (worst rap name EVER) and not enough Dice Raw and Malik B. Both of those two kill it whenever they appear, but it's really Peedi that overshadows everybody with his verse on "Get Busy." Listening to this album kicked me off on a Philly rap binge that also sort of acted as a nostalgia trip for me, as it's very possible that come June 1 I will have spent the last of my time in the Illadelph (though I am working on staying...). Specifically, State Property's new(ish) song "Ocean's Seven," which graces the newest edition of my muxtape, got a lot of play. Freeway brings it hard on that.
  
• Brad and I went to see Wale at Haverford, skipping out on Yo La Tengo at Swarthmore to see DC's hottest. We arrived early, so we hung out with a high school friend of mine and watched people fall out of helicopters in GTA IV before heading over to the venue, where there were plates upon plates of cookies, brownies, bananas and bagels. Weird. Wale needed to turn up his mic and get rid of the creepy hype man who was putting his arm ALL over the girls that jumped onstage to dance (this happened a lot - the dancing, I mean), but other than that it was a good, energetic show.
• I'm done with college. That's not something you get to say every day.
• I "acquired" Cam'ron's epic film Killa Season, which will be viewed early next week. I expect a lot of purple and even more "no homo." Also, I heard that there's a bicycle-by shooting. Reggie Noble would be proud, if a little disdainful.
  

Running out of time...

Not really any time to be writing this, but: last chance to catch Off The Yelzebub in action is Wednesday night 9-11pm. Be prepared - it's the greatest hits, plus the greatest interview.

Also, I joined the muxtape movement.