The Blog

Badu.

Found this video from a producer who was on the online staff I led back in college. And it’s recorded in my hometown. And Dave Chapelle’s crazy behind introduced her. Nice job, Domingo.

…if you don’t have Erykah’s new album, grab that this weekend. It’ll help her with her bail money, she says. Ha!

See why, here.

Last weekend I was in D.C. visiting a college buddy. Turns out I showed up just in time for the Cherry Blossom Festival. We walked the tidal basin near the National Mall. Very nice, but very crowded that day.

I’ve made it a project to learn the music of artists who came and were gone long before my time on earth. I’m discovering Ella Fitzgerald. Thought I’d post a favorite of mine. (I’ve got so much more of her music to go through yet. I get exhausted just thinking about it.)

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Up next, Sam Cooke.

A week ago Saturday I visited the nation’s first capital for the first time. “Philly” is home to several artifacts representing the birth of the nation’s government. Taking it in was awe-inspiring and depressing all at the same time.

I began my visit by orienting myself with transit in The City of Brotherly Love. I found my way over to Independence Hall and the National Constitution Center where, as I took guided tours, it became evident how little I knew about the nation’s beginnings. Pre-teens in a boys scout troop were firing off correct responses to trivia questions from our guide before I could blink twice. I decided against blurting out incorrect answers, much to my ego’s chagrin.

After visiting the National Constitution Center, I concocted a reason why I never made it a point to commit even the most simple historic dates to memory…it’s California. Children who grow up on the East Coast seem to have an everyday connection to the things most California-born and -educated kids only read in books, if that. The boys in the scout troop had probably been taking school field trips to national landmarks and historic attractions since their parents have been dropping them off to public and private schools.

I left Independence Square feeling like a failure and feeling as I’d been failed. This country, which purports to be the greatest on earth, is a country where I can find a bag of Lays before I can find an apple in an urban city, where its own brilliantly written Constitution can’t protect the rights of its citizens without some fogie deciding whether it really applies, and where a college-educated Aaron Morrison can’t remember the date of the Constitutional Convention.

I make no excuses for myself. I’m sure some of this information was hurled at me during my one high school gov’t class. But I can’t help feeling like I should be better. And I know I can do better.

Any suggestions?

I know I can start by reading more history-themed books.