I learned how to jump Double Dutch late in life. By late I mean 12-years old. In the hood, that’s way late. If that were old enough to drive a car it would’ve qualified me for handicapped parking. It’s not my fault. As a kid I listened to a lot of AM radio and consequently didn’t know how to keep a beat. You need rhythm to jump Double Dutch or the rope will literally trip you up.
Archive for September 2013
I’ve been getting a lot Facebook messages lately from young single women of color who desperately want to be my friend: Dora, Rosalind, Baha, Kate... It’s like the bad old days of penis enlargement emails and Nigerian royalty inheritance scams. Why is this happening? Is the Facebook Privacy & Security team on vacation? Oh, right: What privacy and security? I forgot that free social networking companies are in the business violating my privacy and selling my security to the highest bidder.
So, I’m casually flipping through The New York Daily News last week when I saw an old familiar face: Ray Garvey. The headline read: “‘Fame’ for Brooklyn’s ‘great guy’: Athlete, cop, actor, funnyman.” Ray was being posthumously inducted into the Brooklyn Softball Hall of Fame. He was only 52-years-old when he died from cancer. Funny, I never thought I’d get to the point in my life when the phrase “only 52” would come out of my mouth. As my eyes welled up with tears I thought: Has Ray really been gone for three years? I remember going to the wake and it seemed like a New York City comedy industry Who’s Who. It was only fitting. Not only did Ray have many friends but he’d also given opportunities to a lot of people. I was one of them.