It's a beautiful Friday afternoon in Fort Worth, Texas, and I'm at my desk drafting an opinion letter on an apartment complex refinance deal (well, at the moment, I'm blogging, but I'm on a "break"). When forced to draft legal documents on beautiful Friday afternoons, I find that listening to music via Pandora helps grease the mental skids.
And, quite often, I listen to rap and hip-hop.
Some find my love for rap and hip-hop surprising. I've seen the jaws drop when my cell phone rings - my husband's dedicated ringtone is "Return of the Mack" (get it? MAC-Glinchey?), and I selected the Nelly/P. Diddy opus "Shake Ya Tailfeather" for my friend Robyn (because she is a heck of a dancer - but my observant older child also pointed out that "she has a bird name, and birds have tailfeathers"). Likewise, I've seen the looks when I roll up to the Junior Woman's Club blasting DMX from my busted speakers. (Here's a tip, fellow rap aficionados - when selecting car options, DON'T FALL FOR THE BOSE SPIEL. Bose speakers are NOT compatible with gangsta rap. My stereo system came packaged with other features - couldn't get the seat heaters without the speakers - but in retrospect I should have driven the car from the lot directly to Car Toys. Blew the first speaker a few months after getting the car, and blew a second one a year after that - ironically, listening to a cut from Outkast's Speakerboxxx.)
I blame my mother for my eclectic musical taste. She LOOKS like a normal woman of a certain age, but if you ride in her car, you might get a Broadway soundtrack or Andrea Bocelli - or you might get G Unit. The uncensored version.
I also don't think that it's coincidental that I chose to pledge Alpha Delta Pi in college. Consider the evidence:
I'm just sayin'.
Snippets from this afternoon's playlist:
Missy Elliott, One Minute Man
Eve, Let Me Blow Ya Mind
Estelle, American Boy
Pras, Ghetto Superstar
The Game, How We Do
Jay-Z, Dirt Off Your Shoulder
Sir Mix-A-Lot, Baby Got Back
The Fugees, Ready or Not
Vanilla Ice, Ice Ice Baby
Outkast, Ms. Jackson
Nas, If I Ruled the World
2Pac, Starin' Through My Rear View
Peace out . . . .