NOTE: This blog post is about 3 weeks late.
Nonetheless please join us in celebrating Leroy's birthday
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| Just Kidding Lump, LOL |
My flesh absorbed the high temperatures of the summer sun as my mental absorbed the hand gestures and lingo of my man Geezy as he relived the feeling of being released from prison. The rec yard was his stage and he had my undivided attention. If you didn't know, this is my 1st bid. So, I've never experienced this ecstasy of freedom that Geezy expressed.
His words were like music to my ears. You see, it's my 43rd birthday and Geezy's lesson on freedom is my celebration. When my day comes, his lesson will leave this prison with me. In or out, a birthday is freedom. Na mean?
My Moms always made a big deal about my birthday. As I grew into my teen years, it was a challenge to match my mom's enthusiasm about my birthday. My 4th year of existence spawned an epic celebration, a celebration that I begged my Moms not to bring forth. I always enjoyed going to parties, but I was reserved about having my own. The chances of my party being labeled a "kiddie hop" didn't sit well with me.
Against my wishes, my Moms hired a DJ. My homegirl Chelle attended Girls High, so Moms left the guest list to her. Needless to say, girls, girls, girls would not be an issue. This meant, the chances of my party being a “kiddie hop” were growing slimmer. (Good look Chelle. From then to now, you're still coming through, Ma). Real talk.
Our backyard was packed to full capacity. "Planet Rock" was ringing throughout the hood and no foot was left standing still. The party-goers were open like a window and this was slowly becoming the best night of my short existence. But, as the clock neared 12:00am, I began to prep myself for the big letdown. My Moms grabbed the mic. I just knew she was going to clear the backyard with an announcement that would certify my party as a "kiddie hop."
My teenage euphoria had dropped into my shell-toe Adidas. I stealthily moon walked my way to the far side of the backyard as I thought to myself: "This is why I didn't want no party." My facial expression was guarded. I refused to show disappointment when the birthday boy's mommy announces to the entire hood that the party was over. Feel me?
That's when I learned that rockin the mic was in my DNA. Moms’ voice was like a match at the gas station. She blew the party up with the signature mic controlling technique: "Let me hear y'all say Hooo!" The party-goers went crazy. Word is bond! Their response encouraged Moms to finish what she started. "I can't hear y'all. Say Hooo!!"
The party-goers responded in unison. "Hooo!" It was a sound that rang throughout my core. I was no longer secluded to the far side of the backyard. I made my way through the crowd, bobbing my head and pumping my fist to the music, serenaded by Moms' commands. I reached her viewpoint and she signaled for me to join her. She offered me the gift of a motherly embrace, which I gladly accepted.
But, her control of the mic didn't end there. As she tightened her embrace she yelled into the mic, "Happy Birthday Leroy!" I was in awe. I mean, my Moms was moving the crowd long before Rakim. Ya heard?
I learned a lot about my Moms on the night of 7/22/82. I see that same enthusiasm in her eyes every year when she visits me on or around my birthday. Life is worth celebrating. Geezy expressed it today. Moms expressed it in 1982. Every year of life is a year closer to freedom and my life is far from over. Ya heard?
Much Love,
MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann
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