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Some of you may be familiar with my “Why Music Sucks Now” line of posts. For those of you that are new here or are unfamiliar because you stopped looking at my blog a long time ago, the basic gist is this: music now is pretty much terrible, and it makes me want to vomit.
Kid Funk said something to me when Obama was elected. I said, “Well, it’s a black president, what do you think his odds are of being assassinated?” KF replied, “I hope that doesn’t happen. I don’t want my generation to be remembered for killing their president.”
Wise words.
However, I don’t want to be a generation that is remembered for Justin Beiber, Nickleback, or Lady Gaga. (even though I kind of like her) A new addition to this pile of filth was thrust upon me the other day as I was creeping my way through Twitter. A link was shared. A link that had a common place name in it. A name that I respect, not only for his music, but for his fine cinematic skills as well. That name was Will Smith.
You can say what you want, but I am a Will Smith fan. He’s a clean-ish rapper who is still entertaining, he has beats that make me want to shake my money maker, and he has killed a lot of aliens all while keeping our planet safe from impending doom. Plus, I’m pretty sure there isn’t a person alive who can’t finish, “Now this is a story all about how my life got twisted turned upside down.” Am I right? You finished it, didn’t you? Yep. I’d just about bet that you had co-workers finish it with you.
So when I heard his son had a song, I was intrigued. I haven’t seen the new Karate Kid, mostly because I consider it sacrilege and heresy. But I thought I’d give the song a chance. So I clicked.
I was bombarded with the following:
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip it)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
Hop up out the bed turn my swag on
Pay no attention to them haters cuz we whip em off
and we aint doing nothing wrong
so dont tell me nothing, i’m just tryna have fun
so keep the party jumping
so whats up (yea)
And i’ll be doing what to do
we turn our back
and whip our hair and just shake them off
shake them off, shake them off,shake them off
Don’t let haters keep me off my grind
Keep my head up i know i’ll be fine
Keep fighting until i get there
When i’m down and i feel like giving up
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip it)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip it)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip it)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
I’ma get more shine than a little bit
Soon as i hit the stage applause im hearing it
whether its black stars black cars im feeling it
but can’t none of them whip it like i do
I, i gets it in mmmm yea i go hard
when they see me pull up i whip it real hard
i whip it real hard,real hard,i whip it real hard
Don’t let haters keep me off my grind
Keep my head up i know i’ll be fine
Keep fighting until i get there
When i’m down and i feel like giving up
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip it)
I whip my hair back and forth
[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/whip-my-hair-lyrics-willow-smith.html ]
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip it)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip it)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (ok, ok just whip my hair)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
All my Ladies if you feel me
do it do it whip your hair
Dont’ matter if its long, short
do it do it whip your hair
All my Ladies if you feel me
come on do it do it whip your hair
Dont’ matter if its long, short
do it do it whip your hair (your hair, your hair)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip my hair)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip my hair)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip my hair)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip it)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (just whip it)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth (whip it real good)
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip my hair back and forth
I whip…
I want to start out by pointing something out. There are 100 lines in this song. 69 of those lines contain the words, “I whip my hair.” I don’t profess to be a musical genius. I’m not, y’all. However, I’m pretty sure that if I wrote a song in which 4 words made up 70% of the song and handed that song to someone off the street, I’d be shot. And I’d expect it. And deserve it. And thank them after.
Other than that, there are a few things I think Mr. Willow did not fully consider when writing this song.
1. Lawsuits. I really think there will be a seriously backlash (ha) in the legal arena. Aside from this parrot, (click that. just do it) I don’t think anyone ever in the history of time can whip their hair back and forth for 4 minutes without causing irreparable damage to their brain stem and/or lower back. What about kids dancing to this in the car? It will make a good many parents think their child is having a grand mal seizure and they will kill everyone on the road trying to pull their SUV over to check on little Timmy. That’s on you, Willow. That’s on you.
2. The constant addressing of his “haters.” Willow, you’re like 5. You don’t have haters. You might have a kid that took your remote control car in the park last weekend, but you and I both know your dad bought you another one. Probably bought you a life size remote control car. Either way, you don’t have haters. Not yet. Your dad has haters. They’re called “real black people.” Wait a while, you’ll understand it.
3. Stop talking to the ladies. Once again, you’re 5. Or 6. Or 10, or whatever. Doesn’t matter. Your balls haven’t dropped, so stop talking to the ladies. Plus, I’m going to be real honest here, all that hair whippin you’re doing is probably going to affect the amount of lovin you get when you finally get old enough. You’re gonna be like, “I’m Willow Smith, I’m Big Will’s kid.” And the ladies are going to say, “The Whip My Hair kid? No thanks, we’re going to go gang bang that Beiber guy.” Seriously. You’re worse than Beiber right now. Little Bow Wow was throwing up gang signs and smoking weed when he was your age. Go do that, then try to get NWA back together. Then the ladies will “feel” you.
4. That applause you think you’re hearing on stage? Yeah. It’s tinnitus. It’s caused by all that whippin you’re doing.
5. Stop telling chicks it’s cool to have short hair. Yeah dude, I don’t want The Missus hearing that crap. I like her hair long, and I don’t want it short. If she hears this cute black kid saying it’s cool for it to be short, and then she cuts her gorgeous hair off, I’m coming after you. I don’t care what degree black belt you are, you’re 6 years old. I can beat you up. I’m pretty sure I can beat up your dad, too. I don’t think he’d be much without CGI. Your mom though, woo. Wasn’t she a lesbian in that one movie with Queen Latifah? Could be wrong. Either way, I want to bang your mom.
That pretty much wraps it up, your lyrics really tell people how dumb the song is. If that doesn’t do it, they can just watch the video and see you paint a classroom with your locks. I thought it was dumb. I don’t think I’m alone. Why not just cover all your dad’s old songs? Right now, just hit the studio in your room (I know you have one, don’t lie) and start with “You know parents are the same no matter time nor place.” That would be legit, and also pretty ironic. Good luck, and here’s to you not making music suck anymore.
UPDATE: So apparently, Willow Smith is a girl. I had no idea Will Smith had a daughter, although I really had a weird feeling when writing this. I thought his kid Jaden had this stage name Willow or something. I am refusing to rewrite any of this blog to make me look less dumb. You may all proceed to laugh at me, although it doesn’t change the fact that the song is stupid too. So there. *sticks tongue out
Most of you know that we’re going to adopt a baby. That’s more than likely been changed to two babies. As in, Travis is going to be a daddy squared. We’ve decided we want to adopt a sibling pair. It’d be cool if they were twins, but siblings nonetheless.
Two kids.
I am fully prepared for Alicia to get pregnant with twins as soon as we complete the process. Then I will run screaming in to the night, probably naked, and you’ll never hear from me again, except when a blog pops up on the internet called “I Like to Fish…2” and it’s run by a lightly bearded man that looks similar to me only with more of a “has lived in a lean-to and maybe ate a couple of mushrooms” look. Then everyone will be like, “Travis?” And I’ll say, “No, my name is Koprizacha, and I live in a lean-to.” Then you’ll explain to me how I’ve already posted this blog on my other blog and gave away the details of the plan I’m currently trying to carry out.
Dang.
You can see that thinking about kids has already tweaked with my mind a bit. And by “tweaked” I mean “has run through my brain much the way a blind jouster would.” I’m already considering the messes, the yelling, the complete and total wildness that only children can bring into your life.
We are 3 classes into our 5 class series on what to expect when adopting children. Suffice it to say, it has not been easy. We have been forced to watch videos that make it very hard for me not to cry. I hate trying not to cry. It pisses me off. Another thing that pisses me off is being forced to think about what might have happened to our children before they came to us. Sure, it’s going to be wonderful when we are all united as a family, but what about their family before? What happened? Why did they have to go through that? Why can’t people be better parents? Why? Why WHY?
Our first home study is Thursday. We will welcome a woman into our home, and she will tell us what we need to do to prepare it for children. Then she will scour our lives to make sure that we’re not a couple of sadistic weirdos with a penchant for child crimes. Because apparently, those kinds of people exist, y’all. She will then pass judgement on us, receive the reference forms from our friends, and schedule another home study. I assume in that one she will look to see how we’ve made adjustments to our home to make it more kid friendly, and she will probably tell us what dirt she’s dug up on us, such as this blog.
(Hey there, case worker lady! If you’re reading this, I just want to tell you how great your hair looks! Oh geez, please don’t be bald.)
After we complete the classes and pass the home studies, we will be officially ready to begin looking at kids. We will sift through them as though we are picking a playground kickball team, and I think that is what bothers me the most. “Well, little Tommy has a weird hand, so no.” We have the rare opportunity to pick our children, and to me that seems like an enormous responsibility. It also seems…wrong.
“Why did you pick me, daddy?”
Normally I would follow that with some kind of joke. I can’t do that. Because there will be an answer. It will have been the hair, the smile, the athleticism, the way they laughed, the way they hugged, the way they expressed a desire to be loved by us, the freckles, the dimples, the ears, the teeth, the way they carry themselves, their confidence, their self-esteem, their mental condition, the way they talk, their eating habits, their background. There will be a reason. I can only hope that the reason will be the right one.
So there you have it. The process so far. We have been wrung through an emotional wringer, we have had our intelligence insulted, we have been looked down upon by parents who haven’t had to adopt. We have seen videos of kids who have been abused, molested, mistreated, and abandoned. I have learned that my relationship with my brothers is one of the most powerful things ever. We have listened to your stories, taken your advice, and been told, “Just wait.” We have been shown nothing but love by a new Sunday School class. We have made new friends, we have lost friends. I have pretty much neglected each of you and your blogs. I am sorry for that. Real life, ya know?
The pages turned slowly at first, but now it seems as if a speed reader has taken over the story of my life, and soon Part II of the book will start. A new beginning. All of the labels I have; husband, son, friend, writer, comic, fisherman, etc…will be rearranged so that something new can be added to that list.
Father. So it’s just gay people getting bullied now, eh?
That’s all I’ve heard about since Tyler Clementi killed himself a while back.
“The gays are being bullied, we have to stop this!”
“It’s not fair, it’s not right! We’re being targeted!”
“I think that because I’m gay, I shouldn’t get bullied at all!”
Folks, I’m here to tell you, I’m a straight male, 28 years old, 320 pounds, I’m a BIG guy, and I STILL get bullied to this day. Still. And I’m pretty sure I can beat up the people bullying me. Would I do that? No. Why? Because bullying is an absolute CERTAIN part of life, and it’s going to happen to everyone. There is always someone out there who feels they have to pick on you because they’re bigger, they’re stronger, they’re wealthier, or they are just plain jealous of you.
I was called gay from the time I started school until the time I graduated. That’s what we did. We called people gay. “You’re gay!” “Your mom is gay!” It was an insult. Was I gay? No. Is that different than a gay kid being called gay? Even I have to admit that it probably feels different for the person being “insulted.” I used quotations there because I’m honestly coming under a little bit of conviction about the whole calling stuff gay thing. Maybe I shouldn’t do it as much. Maybe it’s insulting to have your orientation used as an insult. I kind of understand that now. Does that mean I’m going to stop cold turkey? Naw, that’s gay. Also it’s hard.
When did bullying become the new thing? Did someone just realize when a gay guy threw himself off a bridge that this was a problem? The last time I heard this big of an outcry over bullying was when the video game “Bully” came out. As I recall, the makers of the game wound up toning the game way down when confronted with the massive fallout from the public. It’s like we as a nation need something else to grab on to. We got the oil spill pretty much taken care of, Obama is renaming troops overseas so it doesn’t sound as much like a war, and we are slowly but surely climbing out a recession. We need a scandal. Bullying fits the bill right now. Most of these people that are involved in the “anti-gay bullying” campaign couldn’t care less if it were gay people or tree frogs getting bullied. They just want something else to gripe about.
Also, gay people? Listen. I’ve developed an incredible amount of tolerance over the last year. If you want to be gay, be gay and be good at it. I have no problems with that. I’m not going to persecute you, I’m not going to “fuel the hate,” and I’m not going to bully you. I’m fat. America hates fat people. We are made fun of constantly, we are picked on, and we are maligned in the media all the time. You know what? I’ve never thought about committing suicide because of that. I’ve never complained about being bullied. I continue living, knowing that every time someone makes a joke about fat people, they are just wishing they could have just one piece of guilt free cheesecake. Have you ever considered that people bully gays just because they wish they could be comfortable enough with their own sexuality to admit they’d like to try something gay?
I do however, mix all this tolerance in with a belief in Christianity, and the belief that God hates homosexuality. Does He hate homosexuals? NO. No He does not. The God I worship loves everyone. I feel the same way. That’s all I’m going to say about that, because I don’t want people to think I’m coming at this from a “religious” standpoint.
In closing, if you are gay and you feel like you are being bullied, don’t kill yourself. If your roommate streams live video of you having gay sex on the internet and everyone you know sees it, don’t kill yourself. Because you know what? You are making the choice to end your life. You are causing someone else to have to feel the blame of a decision you made. You are possibly putting someone in jail for a very long time. And you are doing it because you decided that you couldn’t live in a world that thought a little differently of you because you didn’t “fit in” or you weren’t “normal.” Is there a normal person? Is there a guy named Steve Johnson that lives at 1234 South Maple Avenue in Plainstown, Nebraska that has 2.5 kids, a cat, a dog, a wife that looks okay but isn’t special, with both parents still alive and married and they all go to church on Sunday afternoon then go to Applebee’s and eat steak at exactly 12:15 then all go home and take a nap so they are rested to go to work at the Normal and Not Too Hard Work Plant at 8 AM on the nose Monday through Friday so they can have Saturday off to mow the grass and live life like it’s a 1950 TV sitcom? Is there? Because I want to meet that person, and I want to bully him. Because that guy’s a douche.
But gay people…you’re alright. No hate over here. Just live your lives, and stop worrying about being bullied. I’m pretty sure that if anyone in the nation has any right to say that they’ve been bullied, it’s black people. While we’re at it, why don’t we just all shut up about people being bullied. It’s going to happen. We as a nation bully other nations. If you can look me in the eye right now and tell me we don’t bully Canada, I will call you a liar.
Nothing in this world should be enough to make you kill yourself. No one should have that power over you. Even if you have a family that hates you, friends that make fun of you, a world that doesn’t understand why you do the things you do, or if you simply don’t understand yourself, please remember one thing before you decide to end it all.
You’ve got me, and you’ve got Jesus. Even if you don’t believe in Jesus, you’ve got me.
But we can’t date, because I love the ladies.