A very San Jose Story: We Made it
This is an excerpt from a book I wrote- I don’t have time to do anything with it- too busy working on games so I’m going to post pieces…
This is an excerpt from a book I wrote- I don’t have time to do anything with it- too busy working on games so I’m going to post pieces here- its not edited so sorry bout the fuck ups-
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One day I has just finished riding my bike home from work- I was all dirty and sweaty from crawling around underneath some house- one of those times you’re so filthy you’ve earned a shower- you’re not some obsessive fuck taking two showers a day to wash off imaginary dirt that you got from going to school and back- no- you could take a real shower wherein you could see dirt coming off your body and swirling down the drain- chalky brown dirt leaving your complexion- making your face a better place-
I finished putting my bike away when I heard a helicopter approaching and then people cheering- cheers of 10–20 men- yelling and screaming- woo-ing and yeah-ing- the loud celebratory madness that you only hear in Murica when a team of millionaires owned by a millionaire have beaten another team of millionaires owned by a millionaire to win more millions and a big ass trophy they hold up and woo and yeah-
I don’t understand why regular people get in such a frenzy from these millionaires winning their little game of chase ball or throw ball or jump ball or what the fuck ever? Who cares if the millionaires threw the thing and hit the thing and jumped the thing more times then the other millionaires so that they get trophies and money- whats that got to do with me and my family? and my friends? Oh wait I have no friends here because I have no interest in team sports oops!
Anyway, so I heard the cheers and woo’s and thought to myself Superbowl? no- World Series? No- Nba finals? No- Stanley cup? no- Wrestlemania? no- I could think of no Murican reason for this group of 10–20 men from woo-ing so much-
I was perplexed- I don’t follow team sports so whenever I hear cheering I later find out about the millionaires vs millionaires ball jump throw game that the Murican’s were so passionate about- I mean its great that they are so passionate about the things that really matter- like the ball jump run games by millionaires-
Before I learned that they only cheered for trivial things I would wonder- did they just abolish federal income tax?- have they cured cancer?- have they erased everyones debt? -solved homelessness in America?-given us all good free healthcare? -found a way to stop the police from killing anybody looking at them wrong? Nope- just some run jump ball stick hoop celebratory dance game- oh Murica you’re so frivolous with the things that make you woo and cheer like it matters. On this day the cheers were coming from WTMC’s front yard.
So yeah- there was no reason for these men to be cheering here in Murica at that time-then I noticed something strange- as the helicopter got closer their cheers got louder- it was if they were cheering and yelling at the Helicopter itself- but why would they do that? I could almost make out some “over here’s” amongst the chaos of the screams and woo’s- As the helicopter flew past the cheers and yells grew faint and faded away with the last whine of the helicopters whining tail rotor. I had to find out what was going on.
I walked out onto the sidewalk and over to my neighbors house- smoke rose from a barbecue pit- 12 pack boxes torn asunder lay on the ground- blunts were being passed amongst the 15–20 gangsta rappers cavorting in my friends front yard- all the local rapper legends in their own minds were there- Killa G- gangsta B- killa gangsta C- mack scroll killa D- there was a whole fucking alphabet of made gangsta men and Ceo’s of their own record labels out there-
I knew these Ceo’s because when I worked for the local video company that made their music videos I would meet ten Ceo’s a day- this was during the dot com bubble in Silicon Valley so CEO was a term that they must have heard was synonymous with being important. Since they were weaned on the crap gangsta bullshit rap that grew out of NWA in the 80’s they wanted to be super important CEO’s as well as killers and pimps that would not trust a hoe.
So when I was working at the video place a group of them would come in and introduce themselves to me like “I’m Killa G CEO of killa G records” “I’m Gangsta B CEO of Gangsta B records” “I’m Killa Gangsta C CEO if Killa Gangsta Records” and so on- So I met a lot of important men in my time at that company that I’m sure are still big movers and shakers in the entertainment industry today.
I mean all they really did back then was produce shitty unoriginal music as an excuse to feel important and throw shows at clubs so they could put hot chicks in their videos and on guests lists in hopes of banging them in an attempt to achieve the gangsta triad- Money- Hoes- Tattoo’s-
So I recognized Loco killa gangsta Boss R and whoever the fuck else was there. I must state that I wasn’t a rapper at that time but I eventually became one years later and after rhyming cat and hat and gun and fun within 8 bars I had reached their level of skill- but what can you say- they didn’t do the music for the music- the music was a means to an end to achieve Money- hoes- tattoo’s and CEO business cards with chrome print.
They were all there celebrating I don’t know what- but they were sure happy about something and it had something to do with helicopters- maybe they got too high and left the hose running in the front yard and though they were stranded on a desert island? As it was pretty hot that summer day in San Jose- So they’re high and stranded and they think that helicopter is there to save them? Close, but the truth was much sadder than that-
A trend I’ve noticed with the local gangsta rappers- they are all so concerned with telling everyone and bragging about having “made it” and being in the “big time” when none of them have ever even come close to that- the neighborhood was a lower middle class neighborhood- none of them had anything really except the one rich kid from the rich family that lived up in the hills and just hung out with these dudes for a touch of street cred- you guys are poor so you validate the “struggle” I rap badly about in my shitty songs I made on $25,000 dollars worth of equipment that my family bought for me-
Well anyway, Rich boy was there and not the famous Rich boy who dropped the master piece “throw some D’s” on the world- who I’m sure now has a PhD from an ivy league school in philosophy as dude was straight lyricist artist philosopher wordsmith- yes-
So non PhD Rich Boy rich boy was there- everyone who was a CEO was there woo-ing- clanking 40’s- passing blunts- something big had gone down in regard to domestic aircraft used by the police department and I needed to know what it was.
As I stood there watching the spectacle of so many CEO’s from so many reputable companies doing business together my friend WTMC saw me and sauntered over after taking a hit of a blunt- he shook my hand and we did that half hug man thing “ dude it happened “ he said proudly “ this is it- it happened “ he said “ what happened” I asked “ I almost couldn’t believe it but you know we’ve been working at this for so long it finally happened “ he said looking back at the CEO’s who nodded their heads-
I had no idea what he was talking about “ we’re throwing this party as a celebration “ he said “ for what? what happened “ I asked- he picked up a 40 and took a swig “ well you know how I told you my boy Gangsta Killa Ace Scrilla P works at Wild 108.999 “ he said which was a guy and a radio station I sort of remembered at the time “ naw, I didn’t know he worked there “ I said “ well you know E-40 right? “ he asked “ yeah” I answered “ well you know that single I just finished “We made it, the big time gangsta pimp hoe kill you” “ he said about another gangsta song he had made that was indistinguishable from all the others he made “ yeah I remember that song “ I said as when I was fixing his computer we would listen to the songs he was working on-
I liked his beats and he had a good voice and decent rhyme skills but he always rapped about bullshit that had nothing to do with his real life- nothing that any of us could really relate too- just some gangsta fantasy life that nobody lived outside of the fictional character Tony Montana from the movie Scarface who died riddled with bullets and cocaine all over his face-
I don’t even know how people could view that character as an inspirational one to strive to be — because you figure you’re going to die anyway so you might as well go out big? I don’t get it- he was trying to build up some facade like the CEO’s in the front yard with their business cards- they all wanted to be corporate Tony Montana’s- they all wanted to be Jerry Heller- the guy that formed NWA and made all his money off of them and their dumb-ass lyrics and attitude that encouraged people to kill each other while he got paid- so even at the highest level these studio gangsters were being pimped by corporate gangsters- so on the lowest levels like my friend and his CEO crew- the shit was just sad-
Sad, but not the saddest as you don’t know why they were cheering for the helicopter- “ yeah so my friend was at work in the radio station and he gave E-40 a copy of my song “ WTMC continued with his story as I could still not see the helicopter connection- “ So then E-40 listened to it and “ he stopped talking as his eyes shot upward toward another police helicopter- I watched his eyes lock on to the helicopter with fire and intensity- the cracks in his skin shatter into a “yeaaaaah” his hoarse voice cried out and cracked, tired- as if he had been screaming all day- the CEO’s erupted as well- cheering, wooing, waving at the helicopter.
WTMC waved his arms at the helicopter frantically trying to get its attention- the helicopter flew past without any hesitation and their cheers died down again “ it must have had to refuel ” WTMC said in a tired raspy tone as his gaze fired through the dirt and torn boxes of beer at his feet.
He rattled his 40 around reinvigorated with a heavy inhale- he focused his eyes back on me “ So E-40 listened to my cd- to my song and he said it was tite “ he said with wonder in his eyes “ so yep were just out here waiting for them now- we made it dude! “ he said as he put his hand on my shoulder- I was touched that he had chosen to include me on his team that helped him make it- I really did like him and considered him a friend but I still didn’t see the connection to the helicopter-
He pumped his fist and fist bumped one of the CEO’s “ so yeh man any time now- we made it- its gonna happen “ he said reassuring himself with a chorus of “yeah’s” and “yups” behind him as the CEO’s backed him up.
I had to ask now because I still wasn’t any closer to understanding the situation- “ so whats with the helicopter? How come you guys are yelling at it?” I asked- he smiled and put his hand over his mouth as if I had missed the obvious- “ dude- E-40 is going to sign me to his label- they are going to send the helicopter for me so I can sign the contract- this is it- I made it “ he spoke what he believed to be the truth and what I knew to be a sad lie to himself as he stood in the dirt in our lower class neighborhood with his yes men CEO friends behind him- it probably only got this far because his boys that were supposed to back him up chose to back up a major delusion. Or maybe they wanted to believe it? Did they even care?
“ Are you sure he said he was going to sign you and send a helicopter?” I asked- trying to inject some doubt and reality into the situation “ well dude he said he liked the song so I’m gonna get signed “ he laughed- “ but I mean just because he said he liked it doesn’t mean he’s going to sign you- let alone send a helicopter “ I said in a soft voice- he shook his head and looked up to the sky “ dude all I know is that I made it “ he said again as he turned away and went back amongst the CEO’s.
I stood there for a second and watched them revel and celebrate- they really seemed happy- I took my hand off of the wood picket fence I was leaning on and walked home. Just before I ducked inside I heard another police helicopter flying nearby with the swell of their cheers and woo’s- he made it- if the helicopter doesn’t stop and pick him up its because they have to refuel-
He made it.