Old-Schoolin'

WhatitDO, family?

I was out doing some window-wishin' the other day (that's shopping while brokedified, y'all…), looking for some new footwear. Now, I'm not as much of a sneaker-head as I used to be, being that sneakers are now in the price range of dress shoes. I mean GOOD dress shoes, like Bally's, or Stacy Adams'. Yeah. Just mentioning those two names bring up memories of the '80's & early part of the '90's. I decided to bless myself with a pair of crispies, fuggit. Be nice to myself for once, and cop something other than books, and art supplies. As I pulled into the nearest FootWhatchamacallit, I see literally floor-to-ceiling of nothing but the most complicated, ugly, over-priced, space boot-lookin' sneakers I've ever seen in my life! Some of these pieces look like they were designed with Spin-Art (going back to Rye Playland days, y'all!)! Absolutely UGLY! And PINK!!! When did pink become the new black??? Some of those joints look like you need an instruction manual, just to lace 'em up! The look on the face of the salesman, when I asked him if he had anything "Old-School", said it all. You know how a puppy looks, the first time it sees a frog? Yeah, THAT look! I told him that I wanted a pair of 3/4 shell-toe Adidas, or some suede Pumas. Simple, uncomplicated, classic, STILL good-looking shoes. Dude says to me, "You got da same taste as my Pops!". I guess that that was supposed to be a fuckin' compliment. If I'd had a cane, I'd've blessed him with a 3-tiered cartoon speedknot! ("How many lumps ya want, fatboy?" "Oh, about 3, or 4..." BopBipBOOP!!!) Well, I replied that his father CLEARLY has great taste! Old-school for this cat, was clearly the re-introduction of the original Air Jordans, which I paid $60.00 for when they were first introduced in the '80's, and are now at least twice that now! I waved him off, and continued my search alone, which I'm sure suited his lazy ass fine, because he waddled his fat ass back into the storeroom, never to be seen again (OBVIOUSLY in a rush to continue devouring that Vegan Porkchop sammich he was inhaling). I sat down, and surveyed the displays, once again, risking an epileptic seizure from the dizzying array of colors, when much to my glee, I spotted them. WAAAAAAYYYYYYY on the bottom level, out of the line of sight. I walked over to them reverently, like Indiana Jones approaching a gold artifact. I picked them up gently, and yes, family, in the store, in public,  I sniffed them. Things of beauty, family. Yes, they are. Before I got TOO emotional, and attached, I needed to know if they had them in my size, which always gets me an odd look whenever I ask. Thankfully, they had ONE PAIR left. Yah must've meant for me to have them, y'all. I firmly believe this. 

   After gleefully making my purchase, I continued to stroll through the mall. It was my off-day, and the weather was nice, and I hadn't been to the mall in quite some time, as I'm not a crowd and noise person. I sat down for a minute, and indulged in some people-watching. I noticed that people have mastered the art of manipulating their devices, while walking fast, and not running into walls! That's a fuggin' phenomenal mutant skill, y'all! Some even indulge in text convos, while walking right next to one another! And the lingo...does everyone in a mall have a hearing impairment? EVERYONE'S shouting! After awhile, I had to come to grips with the fact that I, The Amazing Kirkster, qualify as "Old-School". Despite all of the platinum sprouting  (Kirkster don't do gray, y'all...watch ya moufs…), joints sounding like a Rice Krispies Elf Convention, and me grunting "Oy!" everytime I get up off of a couch, it took me sitting in the mall, trying to make sense of the senselessness surrounding me, and realizing that this is not my era. Yeah, I guess I AM old-school, because what used to be opinion, is now "wisdom". Never applied old-school to myself, because as a young man, like most young folks, it just didn't pertain to me. The youth feel as if they're going to be young forever. I was guilty of that, because as a kid, aging, and getting old seemed like it was reserved for others. As if I were exempt. Yah had a surprise for me. I'm learning to enjoy this stage in my life. Where physicality diminishes, logic takes over. I can't play ball like I used to, and strangely enough, I don't miss that, despite me threatening to "come out of retirement", and jump onto the softball field one glorious day. I find that the exercise of my mind is what suits me fine these days. The mid-life crisis that's supposed to hit every man, seems to have skipped over me. I have no wild oats to sow, or glory days to re-live. If I've done it already, it's a wrap. If I haven't done it, at this point, I won't do it, because the desire to do it while I was younger, just wasn't there. I get more out of watching a sunset while listening to some old/new music. I "discovered" some Lonnie Liston Smith the other day. PERFECT sunset watching music! Yeah. Old-school applies to me. I'm FINALLY accepting, and embracing it, and am thrilled to be considered thusly, because sadly, some folks never make it there.

    Sac's empty, flaccid, and swingin', y'all. We're living in turbulent times, and it seems as if irrationality, irascibility, and ignorance are the order of the day. Don't be sucked into the maelstrom, y'all. Rise above the madness, and stay on your path, and on your square. All paths, if you're righteous, lead to heaping helpings of blessings. Stay diligent in your own pursuits of happiness, and don't be bothered with all of the toxic propaganda permeating the atmosphere. You may find that there are some in your circle who subscribe to the "Misery Loves Company" club. Judge your audience accordingly, because just as the wolf in sheep's clothing sought to deceive, so are Minions of the Adversary, disguised as friends, and family. If your phone rings, and the name on the screen makes you roll your eyes, and contemplate whether or not to answer, chances are, you've encountered a Minion in your midst. Arm yourselves with intelligence, determination, and FAITH. Not just in you, and your God-given abilities, but in YOUR Lord, whomever He may be. Dispel divisive tactics deftly, with the skill of a Muhammad Ali avoiding punches. It's IN you to excel, to win, to LEAD. If anyone tells you differently, BOOM....A Minion's just exposed him/herself, and must be avoided like a savagely delivered left hook. Be the champion that we BOTH know that you are... Stay focused, and claim your victory...With yo' championshippin' ass!

I love you all, family. Thank you humbly, for existing.💕💕💕