27 January 2006

Missed Opportunities

When I was three years-old my grandma asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told her I wanted to be a black baseball player. If the opportunity presented itself, I think I would still like to pursue that career option, but I think the window might have closed on that dream.

When I was in high school I was pretty sure that I wanted to be a pilot. One problem, I'm blind. Not legally blind, but trust me, you wouldn't want me flying anything.

I think being a lawyer will be fun, so I'm happy with where I ended up. But sometimes I wonder if I have missed a better opportunity. What if kicking dogs and evicting old ladies isn't what I was born to do? I mean, I feel like it is, but second guessing is second nature for me. What if I made a mistake?

I think I would be a pretty awesome battle rapper. First, I look pretty tough in a hooded sweatshirt and I like new tennis shoes (I call shoes walkawear). I'm not a very good dancer, despite having some formal dance training, but I am pretty good at bobbing up and down to music. Sometimes I can shimmy too. I think that is all I would need to be a battle rapper. The only thing I might need is a rhyming dictionary, but I can handle that. Maybe I shouldn't close the door on this one. Maybe I should just watch 8 Mile less and do some more homework?

The other thing I think I would be good at is hosting QVC or HSN (the jokers on Shop NBC aren't even worth the time it would take to send a resume). The missus and I got cable a few months ago and since then I have been hooked on QVC. I watch it a lot and the more I watch the more I think I would be a pretty good host. I have studied the other hosts, I even have some favorites (click on Bob Bowerbox, he's my favorite), and I think I could do a good job. For example, this is how I would sell sheets: "Folks, when you buy sheets from QVC you're buying luxury. Treat yourself to oppulence. Look, we live in a world where certainty is hard to find. There are world conflicts, there is hunger, there is poverty, the world can be very ugly. It is time to treat yourself to certainty. Treat yourself to beauty. Treat yourself to these 1200 thread count sheets. I have had these sheets on my bed for three years and I can tell you, I have certainly noticed a difference. I sleep better, I feel refreshed in the morning, and my wife has conceived eight times. You're not buying sheets, you're buying a lifestyle. Make the call now. For the first time we have these sheets offered with the Equalpay option. For $129.99 plus shipping you are investing in happiness, satisfaction, luxury, and maybe, just maybe doing your part to make this world a better place."

See. I would be pretty good. You should see me sell pots and pans.

I'm sure I'll never do anything about either one of these dreams. But it is good to know that if my passion for the law ends up biting me in the behind, I have other dreams to pursue.

28 comments:

Lizzy said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

Maybe you should combine the two talents. I know I would love to see a battle rapping QVC or HSN host. Just think of the new audience that those networks could attract. You know ballroom dancing is going to go all-Urban, thanks to Master P (and no, I don't mean Pablo).

Lizzy said...

I think your obsession with QVC is getting a little bit out of hand. It's OK to watch QVC all weekend long. It's even OK to try to "sell" me on everything we already own and then ask if you did a good job or not. But now you're thinking of selling as a career? Are you crazy?

Wait, would we get free stuff? Because if so, it might not be a bad idea.

Tara said...

Where can I get some of those sheets?

the jeanery said...

i really enjoyed the QVC episode where the lady was selling a state-of-art ladder. the macho hunk was demonstrating how cool & easy the ladder was to use. when he so hunkily climbed to the top, he fell off- the ladder falling with him... sad hu? On national, unscripted TV! i think you may want to rethink a career on QVC... not that you would fall off a ladder or anything.

Jess said...

John, I am really inspired by your life's ambitions and it has made me remember some of my own hopes and dreams. Growing up, I was always told I had the face for radio and the body for a telephone operator and so those two careers always held a special place in my heart. I think you just gave me the needed motivation to see if I can make one of these dreams become a reality! Thanks!!

Sammy Pow said...

John, I spend up to 8 hours a day with you and I've never seen any indication of you having any battle rapping skills. I understand that battle rapping is mainly improv, but let's see you spit a phat line or two just to prove that this isn't a big joke. That's right I'm calling you out, you start of by going "yo yo yo yo" or "what what what what" but eventually you have to say other words that rhyme.

Informant said...

uh, what, what, uh, what, ok, what. turn up the bass. what, what, uh, uh. You don't want to step to this, BA. I spit hot fire.

Sammy Pow said...

yo, yo, yo, 541 in the house. What, we keep it krunk up. yo yo yo you don't want to step to this.

That's the best i've got. I froze. Informant 1 BA 0

Lizzy said...

Where are the rest of these raps?

Sammy Pow said...

Sweat, runnin' all over my chest.
I never rest yo I just press
harder...then I ever did before
going for the dream I have in store
in my mind...I know that I'm makin it
I gotta get in mind and nobody's taking it away.
No...'cause you don't want none
a hussle from the mussle and you look weak son.
Yeah, I'm going for all that I can get
Kickin at the top because I'm 2legit2quit.

Informant said...

Mad props. I like the rhyme and you do spit fire. But i can beat you. Ready?

Yo, yo, yo, yo, give a pound to my man with my right hand;
beacuse I, I keep the sprite in my left hand.
And I push the button when I don't want to hear nuthin';
I let it go when I want to hear somethin'.
This is how we flow when we're in the studio;
freestyle with sprite, yo, how the rest go.
first things first;
obey your thirst.
Sprite,
Aight?

Informant 2, BA 0!

Sammy Pow said...

dang dude...

Once again, I find myself with my friends
Dancin' the night away its like the evenin never ends
(seein' stars I'm seein' stars)
Oh my, starry eye surprise
sun up to sunrise
Dance all night
we're gonna dance all night to this DJ

Informant said...

You have upped the ante. I accept the challenge.

Gettin paid to peddle sneakers and soda pop (pop pop pop)
Pop goes the weasel as drawers drop (drop drop dop)
Why not take your top ten pop hit
Fix the music and make senseless ryhmes fit

I guess it's the fact that you can't be artistic
Intricate raps, becomin so simplistic
I gotta strong mind it doesn't have to be spoon-fed
And i can read what doesn't have to be read

Pop pop goes the weasel, the weasel *3x*
Pop goes the weasel, 'cuz the weasel goes pop

"Oh, no he didn't." Oh yes, I did.

Sammy Pow said...

uh uh uh yo yo yo
Now here we go from the top
Second verse of the same song
With the conclusion, all should be happy for the ding-dong
It's just a mad clock a grip, G
It's like every nigga that I see be like
"Do you remember me?"
A hustler, and it's on with more hoes to lego
Keep 'em chunky like Prego, so they can play with my eggo
I have a tendancy to flow, start off with my own groove
Pick up the mic, and all of a sudden, I see high movin'
Guess it's like magic, and Paperboy is the magician
If I was a vaccum I'd be suckin' up competition
Let it ride again, and yo, believe I got my own thing
Straight Bahama hoes so miss me with the chick from Soul Train
And I'm a break my note, just to show up tokin'
Tote on his ass when I scoop him, cuz we bud smokin'
A black man tryin' to make it and that ain't no fair
But just like BeBe and CeCe, I'll take you there

Holla! Dog Pound! Hoop there it is!

Sammy Pow said...

you got served!

Informant said...

Do you hear that? It is the sound of getting served and dissed simultaneously. Oh SNAP!


Attention all ladies
The Candyman is on the prowl
And for those that wanna get busy
You gots to speak up now

This rhyme, this time
Is one of a kind, blowing yo mind
Like only the Candyman can
Like a heavyweight champion
Knockin'em out, another bout without a doubt
Once again you can scream and shout
When I rock the bells
Yell out my name
This is what you've been missing
Listen to my heart beat, while I'm whispering
I know your suffering
So sweet a Candyman sweet nothings
Hugging and tugging and rubbing
Loving it all, having a ball
All ya'll girlies next to me
Talking sex to me
We can't do that yet, but I bet will chill

(Candyman telling'em the truth)
Will still end up knockin the boots


Ooh boy I love you so

Never ever ever gonna let you go

Once I get my hands on you

Jess said...

Man, with skills like these... you both rock the mic like a vandal!

Lizzy said...

You guys are so fly! Can I be your around the way girl??

Tara said...

Lizzy and Ali I am soooo jealous that you are married to such g-funk thugs like these! I bet it's so romantic when they start bustin a rhyme for you. Luckies!

Jesse Harding said...

Not a very good dancer? Come on pal, I watched you rock the floor all those nights at the Bay and the Lighthouse. I'd dare say you're the white Bobby Brown, minus the rage attacks, cracked out wife, and platinum records.

Alifinale said...

I know, we are so lucky.

My man gives real lovin' that's why I call him Killer,
He's not a wham bam, thank you ma'am, he's a thriller
He takes his time and does everything right
Knocks me out with one shot for the rest of the night.
He's a real smooth brother, never in a rush
Gives me goose pimples with every single touch

Everytime I need him he's always got my back
Never disrespectful because his mama taught him that.

Whataman whataman whataman, What a mighty good man!

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