King Britt/ Not King Britt...Go!

A funny thing happened to Friend, DJ/Producer Philly's own King Britt in the late 90s. Marketers scrambling to connect with the hip Metropolitan progressive Gen-X demographic made him an unwitting icon. At the time Britt released the Sylk 130 project, a unique soul collective produced by Britt with local Philly talent. Completely different from the "jiggy era" hip-hop/r&b hybrids that ruled the day, it escaped mainstream acceptance and has become a cult fixation recognized as the genesis of what is now branded "neo-soul". 

Back to those marketers, they recognized the appeal of  a "black alternative" metropolitan lifestyle and the Afro Guy with Glasses (AFG) was born. No, he's not a B-boy* or Cristal popping Versace jockey, those belong to other campaigns. The AFG is thrift-store smart, always ready with a bon mot at the local cafe and has abandoned the threatening thug mug for a perma-grin. No gaudy Jacob the Jeweler for this guy, strictly wooden beads and the occasional brass Ankh. 

There he is in the Roxio ad, burning that Rufus f. Chaka Khan vinyl he copped from his mom's basement to CD. There he is again completing the pre-hipster tableau with Goofy Dreadlock Bicycle-courier White Guy and Asian Vegan Paint-smeared Smock Artist chick promoting health insurance. Is he a DJ? Who knows, but he always has those headphones around his neck, cans not earbuds, AFG always keeps it retro. King Britt is a DJ and wears glasses and typically maintains some form of afro, but that's it. The rest is a fabrication by pre-millenial Mad Men. There oughta be a royalty check for prototypes, though.

Continuing with this theme, I hope to excavate the archives, scan and post AFG's and the like as I find them. feel free to help via email. In the meantime, sharpen your skills with the above visual test. King Britt/Not King Britt...Go!

*B-boys have been exclusively Caucasian since 2000 see "Step It Up"**

** Better yet, don't.

 Answer Key: KB/NKB(FTHC)/KB/NKB(EB)/NKB(HH)/KB/NKB(AFG)/NKB(GD)

Personal Inventory: Nestle's Quik & Alternatives

"You make me sick, like strawberry Quik." House of Pain-Shamrocks & Shenanigans.

My favorite beverage before developing a lactose intolerance* was Nestle's Quik Strawberry. There was a ritual, a personal formula the whole nine. At the time, Quik was presented in a metal tin you'd open by wedging your serving spoon beneath the lip of the lid. I would use whole milk in a tall clear glass, never a mug or plastic tumbler. I would level my teaspoons (never tablespoons and never heaping). I would stir counterclockwise and I could tell by the general color the strength of that solution. 

In my travels around South Jersey and SE Pennsylvania in the back my Aunt Myrtle's station wagon we found obscure Quik alternatives/knock offs over time.

• PDQ was sold at a clearance outlet in Berlin Farmers market that exists to this day. PDQ of course is an acronym for "Pretty Darn Quick" making this a bold marketing stroke for the period. Similar product except PDQ came as granulated clusters where Quik is powdered. PDQ was presented in a glass jar with old fashioned ice cream parlor graphics and had the unique advantage of having an egg nog flavor in addition to strawberry and chocolate**.
• Pinch N Sip went further the length by eliminating the canister altogether. Pinch N Sip was powdered like Quik but came in a striped, sealed plastic straw like a Pixie Stick. You would first pinch the ends of the straw, releasing the sugar to milk, stir then sip. Hence Pinch N Sip. P N S had a slightly higher acidity than Quik.
• Then there was Crazy Cow which was General Mills just being lazy. As a sitting bowl of Coco Puffs will turn the milk brown and vaguely chocolaty, they applied the same accidental technology to Crazy Cow by making Corn Pops and applying a Quik-like coating too them. Yes, it's very stupid but If you're 5, it's the iPhone. Works out great if your kid eats cereal very slowly- s(he) doesn't.

*I also developed a heavy allergy to shellfish, eliminating monthly trips to Joe Gentile's Seafood Shanty. Puberty is wack.

**With chocolate milk readily available at all outlets Chocolate versions of these products were never an option, Banana Quik being a staple solely at hispanic Bodegas.

The President's Just Playing Us at this Point

It's called the unspeakable. The event that every black comic has touched upon when riffing on the possibility of a black president. Murphy in Delirious describing Jesse Jackson working out in the gym, preparing for a perpetual motion presidency; Chris Rock's double in Head of State catching a bad one, etc. Ever since Obama entered the race a number of us have become de facto secret service men. I've stopped short of investing in the Wayfarers but I'm nervous y'all.

The next 8 years is going to be the Tom & Jerry with the baby crawling around the construction site.*

Every speech, the Iowa, PA, NH primaries, Super Tuesday, the DNC convention, election night, the inauguration. All were watched while wincing, happy but wincing. And the constant comparisons to Lincoln and Kennedy aren't helping. Sure they were formative, beloved leaders

but it ultimately didn't work out so good for them. Obama is nice on the microphone so I guess the Pac and Biggie comparisons aren't too far behind.

That leaves me on the couch yelling into my collar during the inaugural parade "Yo, money, get back in the limo". Or signing the stimulus in to law on Tuesday "Crazy armed redneck at 9 o'clock. Wait, it's a lamp...stand down". 

Obama knows were nervous and he has a better idea of how secure he is than we do and everyday turns to his staff like "Check this out...".  Which leads to him at the Ford theater last week paying tribute to Lincoln, come November he'll be picnicking at Daley Plaza. Right now he's on Air Force One pumping Aaliyah, John Denver and Buddy Holly on the system looking at the petrified stewardesses like "What?"

*Yeah, it's the plot of Baby's Day Out, too.

White Women Who Look Like The 1989 Joker...Go!

First Lady Laura Bush? Wicked!

Jurassic Supermodel Janice Dickinson? Fierce!

Wild Orchid turned Meth Addict Turned Black Eyed Pea Fergie? Word!

Donut Pushing Tony Danza Replacement Rachael Ray? Say Word!

I'm Not calling it a Blog

Off the bat. I'm not calling this blog a blog. Don't like the word blog, never did. The root of blog is Web-log. Never liked web. Web, Cyber, Net, .com and the prefix e-, never liked any of these any of their derivatives. 

No disrespect to my host blogger.com they offer a wonderful service and all but I'm into aesthetics and blog don't fit the program. It's an ugly word, like "jazz". I like jazz as a genre but in a phonetic context, "jazz" is considered one of the ugliest words in the English language and I agree. 

"Jazz", an ugly word describing a beautiful thing. "Diarrhea", in turn, a quite beautiful word describing an ugly thing. A kindergarten classroom with limited vocabulary was once tested and chose "Diarrhea" as the name they would most likely name a baby. So, in that same context I find this (the hook):

"Blog" sounds like a slang term for "tampon".

As in "Jennifer, I switched purses this morning. You got an extra blog on you?" It makes me shudder writing it. I guess at it's root you have the "B, L and O" of blood and tampons are kinda log-like in their general oblong shape. 

So if you imagine the silhouettes of Morgan Freeman and Hattie Winston reciting the two...

If you're still reading, don't worry, as I contribute to this thing it won't be a running list of likes and dislikes, that would make it a blog as most blogs are just that (I'll eventually link to the exceptions.) And just because I spoke of tampons and diarrhea, please consider the context . Again, I'm into aesthetics and scatological don't fit the context either.