The Gulf Coast tragedy is fucking me up a bit as I’m sure it’s doing to you all as well. I kind of wanted to do something to help while having a little fun and making a statement so here's what I’m going to do. These past two days of storytelling ( here and here) have gotten me all nostalgic for early/mid 90s hip-hop that they used to play when I went to teen clubs. I picked out ten of them and extracted about 8-20 seconds of each. I’m going to link to them below. The first person to get the song and the artist for each track and post them in the comments section I’ll send them there choice of the following three graphic novels: Kabuki: Metamorphosis (David Mack), The Wicked West (Livingston, Tinnell and Vokes), or Filler (Rob G and Rick Spears) (used, of course, fresh from my bookshelf) plus the first three issues of Elk’s Run if you don’t have them and donate a hundred bucks to the Red Cross Relief efforts in their name. I’m kind of assuming that someone will get it eventually. If you don’t know the answer, feel free to pass this around until someone does get it. As important as it is to donate the money, the statement is equally important to motivate people (and if the answer is posted within five minutes, the statement is still important). If I can drop a hundred bucks and one of my favorite graphic novels, each of you can take two comics out of your monthlies and drop the minimum five bucks the Red Cross is asking for. Plus, the free copies of Elk's Run are going to be better than whatever it is you're giving up. RJ and Jorge are disqualified automatically since you guys love hip-hop as much as me, but in fairness I’ll send each of you one of the leftover graphic novels.

The songs are:
1) Track 1
2) Track 2
3) Track 3
4) Track 4
5) Track 5
6) Track 6
7) Track 7
8) Track 8
9) Track 9
10) Track 10

Good luck. For now, it’s story time…

___________________________

Prom was a close call – I almost didn’t have a date. Jackie, Mary and I were going to go together – I can’t remember who got a date first. I think Mary did, causing Jackie and I to scramble for dates. My boy Paul told R that I wanted to go with the prom her and she asked me. Taken off guard and attracted to R, I said “yes” instantly.

We made our arrangements – since R and I rolled in different circles we needed to accommodate both sets of friends. We rode to the prom in my limo (shared by G and his date, Max, Jeromeo, B and his date, Jackie and her date and Mary with her date) and left the prom in hers (shared by a bunch of Asian people).

Got my tux, I went with B and G to get ours and picked out a white tux. I actually never wore a black tux in my life, always preferring the white. Even now when I go to schmoozing functions in DC I get some sort of white tux – I’ve always felt less stiff wearing it.

The night of the prom I went out to R’s house where the limo picked us, Jackie and Mary met us there. R actually made her own dress which I thought was wicked cool but now when people look at the pictures they comment “what an ugly dress”. It was functional, though – the long gown like portion ripped off and became a mini-shirt – she was innovative, I’ll give you that.

The second stop was at G’s house (which was only five blocks away from were I grew up) and the joke of the night became the complete lack of effort G’s girl put into her prom get-up. No make-up, cheesy little dress she got at the Gap – just not typical prom-fare.

We go out to some hotel in Manhattan – I believe it was a Marriot – and get down to the business of meeting, greeting, eating and partying. And damn did I party.

I don’t think I left the dance floor at any time except to eat. With R, without her – it didn’t matter. As the night progressed the jacket came off, then the bowtie, then the cufflinks, the shoes, the cummerbund. I was sweaty, smelly and had a disturbing gleam in my eyes, like a cokehead five lines down with a crisp five-spot in his pocket.

I was jumping in circles, moving down lines. Getting on the stage and dancing on tables. After the prom, looking through other people’s pictures, nearly everyone had a picture of me dancing in it. It was unavoidable – I was “that” guy.

I danced with R, too obviously. The slow dances, some house beats. But every time she complained about her feet hurting I spun her off the floor and grabbed the closest chick. I even did all of the novelty dances – the Electric Slide, the Chicken Dance, the “Cent, Five Cent, Ten Cent, Dollar” dance, the Macarena – I never do novelty dances. I mean, seriously, look at this fucker move:


After the prom I went with R’s friends to some club in Manhattan –it was dead, most of us teenagers opted to find places to fuck rather than go to some after party. We didn’t stay too long. We took the limo to Rockaway Beach, hung out for a bit with various partiers and then went back to R’s house where we spent the whole night joking around and having a good time.

We got some Dim Sum at 10ish before going back to our respective houses and passing the fuck out. I slept for about fifteen hours and woke up satisfied – it was a good prom even without getting laid.