Part 5:
Its been one month, since Joe Perry, showed up at my door and, keen to say, he did not show up on the following day. Its another Saturday morning, and I find myself having awoken early, and simply laying on my bed. I get up, leave the room, have a shower before returning to my room again. As I am getting ready, while putting on a shirt, there is a ring from the doorbell, which makes me slightly jump, while looking back. I stand a moment before beginning to make my way down the stairs, to the living room. I arrive at the door, which I now open cautiously, wondering but not apprehensive, about who is behind it. I open the door; there is a burly Italian man standing there, and upon sharply turning to see me says, "Pack your things, lets get going." I am slightly shocked, and look at the man, who is dressed in a brown blazer jacket, but quickly turn around, to do as he says. I am up back, in my room, in no time, throwing all my clothes, into my case, and after quickly combing my hair, I make my way back to the front porch, with my belongings. I have on, a white vest, a white shirt, black pants and black shoes to match. "Button up" he says to me, then sharply turns around and begins walking through the long driveway, to a waiting van. I button up somewhat, and begin to quickly make my way down the driveway, while pulling my luggage, to the waiting van. I find the door to the van opened, when I get there: get in, after the man shifts himself up the seat, which I also share partly, with my luggage. As the van begins to move, I finish up, on my buttoning.
The van is moving away, from my home, and I slightly look around outside, as if deciphering, where we are going to. There is silence in the van, as the long haired driver simply looks on forward, and the burly man, simply sits still, looking forward too. I look somewhat apprehensively to my right and the driver, wondering where we could be going, with my hands, on my lap, gently rubbing. Some moments after this, the burly man says to me, "Don't worry kid, we'll soon be in the city." I look around as the van moves on, and I see NY everywhere, with the scenes, beginning to change drastically. I think of Harlem for a moment. We are soon, within the city, and I cannot stop staring around, having seen NY City, only on the reel; and I am amazed, at how huge, everything is. We soon get to, a hotel, whereby the burly man, then instructs me to open the van door, and get out. I do as told, and simply stand on the sidewalk with my luggage, waiting for the man to get out too, as the driver now stands by our door. The man is out, turns around to talk to the driver, who responds with a "Got'cha", before turning away and back into his drivers seat, while the burly man walks into the hotel while ordering me from the side, with a short arm throw, to follow him. I follow him from behind, looking around me cautiously. I do not notice, that there are mainly white people at the entrance to the hotel really, what I do notice, is how well dressed they are. For some reason, I imagine them to be good people. We get to an elevator, empty, which the burly man goes into, and I swiftly following, before having the doors shut, and the elevator begins to move on up. It stops at the sixth floor, and we both get out, me first, after an open hand gesture from the man to do so, and we are soon both, in the hallway. "Follow me" he says again, as he slides past me, and I begin to pull my case again, as we walk on. We get to a spacious room, that has a dining table in view, upon opening the door, and as I walk past it, following the man, we enter a bigger room, with some furniture in it, a big sofa and some arm chair sofas. There is a small table too in the room, with a lamp on. The man goes to the lamp and turns it on, as I sit on the sofa, and turn to notice that the curtains are mostly shut. The man then walks to the curtains, and fully shuts them, and then begins to walk out of the room while saying, "Don't go anywhere." I sit back fully on the sofa, and look around me on my left, feeling excited and showing it, as I wonder, what could really happen next. Minutes later, the burly man not having returned, there is a knock on the door, which I motionly, upward body, glance to look and listen to. Another knock, and the door opens, as I sit motionlessly upright, wondering, where the burly man is. In walks Joe Perry, who upon seeing me, then begins to look around the room as if somewhat miffed, before glancing at me again, and walking out. I sit back on the sofa, somewhat confused, at not having received a greeting, from Joe Perry. I am still seated on the sofa, now somewhat miffed too, as I wonder what will be going on, when the door opens again, and I hear some sharp feminine voices, and somewhat get up while seated, to see who it is, and not really get a look. There are three women, Italian, blonde and blue eyed, all surprisingly dressed the same, blue skirts and matching blue tops, white blouses. They sit around the table, in a formation I have come to know or understand to mean, do not disturb. I fully sit back, not feeling apprehensive, as I often believe, I can talk my way out of any situation, with a beautiful woman. Unlike most men, I do not really fear beautiful women; am the kind that believes in walking up to any beautiful woman, and saying what I feel. I feel I can get away with anything, when it comes to beautiful women. It's the plain women, and lower plain, that I tend to avoid.
As I am seated there, many minutes later, looking around the room and attempting to avoid looking at the ladies, seated at the dining table ahead of me, I quickly glance one of the ladies, looking at me. I am somewhat perturbed and after a slight side glance, I find myself smilimg smirkingly, back at her. She on the other hand, turns away, as if unknowingly, and continues talking to her friends. I kinda feel very self-conscious, after her looking away, with my luggage placed next by me. There is a sharp rapping on the door, and it opens, as the three Italian ladies, turn around to look. It is the burly man again, as I see him when he comes slightly into view, and with him, are other voices, I do not get to mostly see. He is carrying a bundle of papers, and begins to hand them out to those in the dining room. I get the feeling or need, to mention to them, and especially the burly man, that Joe Perry, was in here, many minutes ago. I however find myself still seated back, and simply sitting still, as I somewhat listen into what is being said. I don't get much of it, as it seems to be a rehash, of a previous breakdown. Minutes later they are done, with me looking at the curtains, brown, and wondering what material they are made off. As they prepare to get on the move, the burly man comes into the room I am in, grabs a hold of my luggage and begins to pull it before stopping to say out loud, "Jake!!" A blonde guy, with a youthful look, comes into the room, and quickly takes a hold off the luggage. He swiftly leaves the room soon after, and I aptly notice, my case, being wheeled away. The man is out again, with every else who came with him, some whom I did not see, and I am left once more, with the three ladies, in the room. Some minutes later, they too get up to leave, and do so, without a word. I find myself seated once again, all alone, in the room, not thinking much to myself, about anything. Minutes later again, the door slides open, and I hear the burly man say something to someone, before there is a crashing noise from the hallway, sounds like culinary, and the man instead then walks into my room, and says, 'Lets go kid.' I somewhat jump up, ready to go and also very much curious, of what just transpired, in the hallway. When I get there, with the burly man in front of me, I seemingly notice, that someone dropped some dining ware, including a dome, on the hallway floor. I quickly pick up pace, and follow the burly man, who is now ahead of me, into an elevator. We both get in, he punches on the elevator buttons, the elevator begins to move and in no time, we are out at the back of the hotel, through a steaming kitchen. Outside there, is the van I came in, with the same driver in it, and we both jump in again and as I do, I cannot but help think of Joe Perry, glancingly. We drive off and an hour later, having seated silently all the time, arrive at La Guardia. We drive around somewhat, as we get to where we are going, with me staring out of the windows and thinking smirkingly, "JKIA (Jomo Kenyatta International Airport), is not that neat." We arrive at our destination, and the driver quickly jumps out as the burly man does so too. He motions to me quickly, to get out and when I do, he shuts the van door, and slides past me while telling me, to come along. We enter into a building, that's part of the airport, and when in, I stop to look around, as the burly man asks me to wait a while, as he heads off to somewhere. Later on, I still standing where he left me, he comes out slightly from a slightly open door, and motions out to me, with a loud "Hey", and I quickly move towards his direction before I make it there walkingly. I go in, there is a minority woman in there, brown skinned, cute, who upon seeing me, stares back slightly, before beginning to hand me some documentation. There is a label with a pin on it, which upon reading, makes me stare at it and look up and towards the man surprisingly, as it clearly says, "Al Moor". Below my new name I believe, it also clearly shows, that I am a press team agent. I look back at the burly man again, who is now at the door, and he gesturingly motions me out of the room, and I pass by him, somewhat rapidly. I put on my label, after he tells me to, and carry my other documentation with me, and we then walk towards a door, with a security guard at it, whom the burly man greets in a NY drawl, before the guard opens the door, and lets us out into the open. We are out, in the open, at the back of the airport, and I can see, about three planes, which I later momentarily recognize, as being private planes. I am directed towards one of them, and quickly follow the man, in an excited manner, as we get near to it. We are by the plane, moments later, then by the stairs, up into the plane. There are other people there, climbing up the stairs, into the plane, and I join in line, as we go inside the plane. They all seem to somewhat know each other, and none knows me, something I somewhat strongly notice. We are, or I am, in the plane in no time and I appear to myself to be shocked, then slightly shocked, at how good it looks. It looks very much like a lounge of some sort, but feels like a pad. I look around, still amazed while waiting in line, as it moves slowly, towards the back of the plane. While still looking around, we begin to pass a group, already seated and partly talking. As I near it, I turn to look at its constituents, and I am surprisingly shocked, to see Steven Tyler, seated there, facing the other side, talking to someone, another man. I immediately somewhat stop, and look stare, at him. The man he is talking to, seems to be acutely aware of my presence and somewhat glances at me, which makes Steven Tyler aware of my presence too, and he turns his head towards me, before turning back to the man and with open hands, palms up, points at me and says, "Who-is this guy?!!" I quickly come back to my senses, and immediately notice that the people behind me, are waiting or awaiting me, to move. As I pass by the seating behind Steven Tyler, feeling a flush on my face, I notice Joe Perry seated there, but he is distinctively looking out of the window, appearing to have seen or heard nothing, moments ago.
I am seated somewhere at the back of the plane, and I notice, there is nobody, on both sides of me. Sooner though, the seats across me and the aisle, are filled, with the three ladies, who were in the hotel room with me. As I am seated, having distinctly noticed the three ladies besides me, and somewhat looking down at towards, the chair before me, I hear a voice distinctly say, "Move on over." I instead, let out my knees onto the aisle, to let the voice pass by, which I, moments after I begin moving, recognize to be African-American, and then really surprised, to see, that, its Jamie Foxx. I look up, as he begins to slide and glide by me, onto the seating besides me. He sits by the window, one seat away. He has a discman with him, and as we sit by silently, I awarely noticeably feel, his gaze on me. As I turn to look at him, he makes a somewhat duck face, before folding his brow and saying, "Whats your name?" I glance apprehensively, "Bantu, Bantu Moor." He looks down at my label and upon seeing it says, "hmm!" With the duck face still on, head cocked on the side, he says again to me, body moving aback, "Where-are you from?" I respond somewhat apprehensively but openly, "Kenya". He appears to be taken aback again, openly but slightly, as he folds his lips, into a tighter duck face, and then opening his face, inquisitively asks surprisingly, "You got a Visa to work as a press team agent?!!" It is then a voice rings out from the back and says, "Jamie!!", and we both turn around, to look at the voice. I notice another man at the back, working near the lavatories, and though he is of African descent, I know he is not African-American. "Excuse me" says Jamie Foxx, as he slides by me, and goes towards the voice, whom I am later made aware belongs to Pat, when his name is called out by a female voice, and further later on, recognize as being Haitian-American. I sit by myself, and I begin to think about what happened before rapidly, and quickly come to a conclusion, "Yeah, that guy is not cool, Jamie is not cool at all." I sit there by myself, but also become aware of the ladies by next to me, as they talk to themselves, and I find myself, embarrassingly glancing, once or twice, at their lower legs.
I am still seated in the plane, when Pat passes by me, and openly says, "How're you doin'." I nod my head down once, and find myself solemnly saying, "hey". A moment later, the plane begins to move, and I hear a female voice saying, "We're moving." I sit back, and begin to buckle up, as I notice and hear others, doing the same. The plane begins to 'tax' slowly, along the runway, as we head off, to our take off spot. I begin to look around, after having buckled up, wondering if Jamie Foxx, will be joining us, for this take off experience. I settle back into my seat, after not having seen him, and concentrate on the take off. The plane is still taxing, on the runway, as I turn to look out of the window, wondering many things at once, how long will the flight be, and where are we headed to. As the plane moves along, with my still looking out of the window, it turns, and then begins to slow down. It slows to a stop, and I turn to look, straight ahead. Everybody is still seated, minding their own business, and I hear and feel, the engines begin to rev up. At a certain point, when the engine noise is high enough, the plane slightly jumps forward, and begins to speed on the runway. There is nothing maybe I believe, that instills in one a feeling of power, than the feeling one gets, when in a plane, that is about take off. The plane is speeding and in no time, which surprises me, takes off. I am pulled back into my chair, and I do turn to look outside, at the receding landscape, and then turn again to look up front, before turning to view the three ladies, seated, next by me. When the plane is up and high above the clouds, people begin to relax again, and there is movement. At that time, the burly man shows up from somewhere up front, with some sheets of paper, which he hands to a few of us, at the back. I somewhat grab my copy, and begin to peruse it, somewhat interestingly, and upon really scanning it, it hits me, "We're on Tour". The document is a retinue, filled with a set of dates, three of them in total: Connecticut, Minnesota, Rhode Island. I glance up, and look around excitedly, but every one else, seems passe. The flight, to Connecticut, is pretty much relaxed, with people, simply talking with each other. I do hear Steven Tylers voice, go up and loud occasionally, and I turn to look frontwards momentarily many times, but mainly sit in my seat, as if awaiting someone to speak to me. Joe Perry passes by me, as he heads to the back of the plane, but I do not see or notice him, until he returns the same way, and disposingly hands me, a drink of sorts. It turns out, to be lemonade. The flight is calm, and for the rest of it, I sit back and read a magazine, occasionally looking up questioningly, as someone passes me by.
The plane touches down in Hartford, Connecticut, at about noon, on that Saturday. As the plane 'taxes' on the runway, I again find myself, looking around, just to see whats going on. The plane finally comes to a stop, and within minutes, its time to disembark. From the front, I see Steven Tyler suddenly jump up lowly and say, "Whooaa!! Somebody get me out of this plane." I too get up, almost immediately, and find myself looking around at the other seated passengers. I look sideways for a moment, before turning to look back for a time, before slowly again, setting myself back into my seat. The exit door, upfront of the plane, has already slid open, and there are some people standing near the exit. I get a good look, and I see the burly man amongst others, standing there. Steven Tyler and Joe Perry, are amongst the first out, and I sit coolly, while I await my turn. Its soon time to disembark, for me, and I look around again, to see if I can spot Jamie Foxx, but I see nobody. I am soon nearing the door, and some paces before me, are the three Italian ladies, one who is called Kim, as her name is mentioned, by someone standing at the exit, a woman. We are all soon out, and I find myself standing on the tarmack, wondering what next. I still have my documentation with me, and I stand there looking around, to see if I can spot the burly man and even, for a slight moment, Joe Perry. As people begin to leave, I begin to worry a little, as I cannot see the burly man or even Joe Perry anywhere, and I find myself, following some of the passengers, hoping to spot either of the above two, at any moment. As I am moving away from the plane, a voice rings out, "Hey Kid!!" which I turn immediately towards too, to see the burly man, standing near the planes nose, behind it, shouting again, "over here!" There is a little vehicle, like a golf cart, nearby, which he jumps into, and again motions me over, with his arm. I walk speedily towards the cart, jump in, next to the man, and soon, we are on our way, to some point, yet unknown. I kinda feel disappointed, a little, as this was not how I somewhat believed, I would be exiting the airport at Hartford. I kinda imagined, to myself really, a scene of me, Joe Perry and Steven Tyler amongst a few others, walking through the airport, amongst many gazes and stares, mainly from women, all asking pointingly at me, "Who is that?!!" But that's just me, and my private musings and as the vehicle speeds on, along the tarmack, I take a small look around, before we approach a stationary building, where we find a group of people, some, passengers from the flight, standing and milling around, talking and looking around. We get to them, and disembark, from the vehicle, and somewhat join them. The burly man turns to look around at the runway, as if awaiting something. Few minutes later, a group of Fords, SUVs, start to make their way, towards us, three in total, which I look upon with some excitement. They slow down, as they approach us, and I am motioned towards one, by the burly man, a red one, which I make for, almost immediately. I get in, back seat, while the burly man jumps into the front, and we are joined by one more passenger at the back, a woman, the one who called out Kims name. We soon drive out of the airport, I somewhat questioning the procedure silently, but not really thinking too much of it.
We arrive at a house, somewhere in the city, and as we drive through Hartford, I can't help but think, "It sure ain't New York". We are at the house, one storey, and I stand outside, before the Ford, as I wait to be asked to go in. The burly man, who has been chatting up the driver, through the open door on his side, shuts it, straightens out his blazer jacket, collar, and then begins to walk to the house, as he motions me to follow him. I follow suit from behind him, and soon we are in the spacious house, which I enter precautiously, but not showingly. It is small but big, and there are several rooms in it. In one room, I spot several burly Italian men, seated around a table, playing cards and smoking cigars. I continue following the man, and in another room, I see Kim and her friends, before being shown into an empty room, with a bed in it, both small, with a big window. There is a poster of Eminem, straight ahead of the bed ends, which I look at with some interest. "Stay in here, I will be right back" says the burly man, as he heads on out, and closes the door behind me. I sit on the bed, and wonder what happens next. I have been in there for fifteen minutes, having looked outside the window several times, I see Hartfords skyline, some trees before me, and having looked at the Eminem poster too, several times. The door suddenly opens again, and I turn wide eyed, looking, to see whats going on, as the burly man comes through, pulling my luggage. He stops and says, "You luggage is here", and looks at me, and I back at him, he then slightly folds his mouth, and turns to leave. It somewhat hits me, when gone, he was waiting to see, if I needed anything more. I look at my luggage, after he leaves, seated on the bed, and wonder whats next. Fifteen minutes later, I find myself walking out of my room door, as I peer out into the corridor, and begin making my way, through the path, I came in through. I pass Kims room, and see spot her, with her friends, also playing cards, having some drinks. As I pass the room with the burly Italiam men, I hear one shout, "Don't go anywhere", which makes me stop, on my tracks. I stand there with a folded mouth, wondering what to do next. I had somewhat imagined, I would be going to see the show, elsewhere, my mind however then, turns to my somewhat rumbling stomach. "Maybe he's hungry", I hear a voice say from the room, and another adds, "order a burger or something." I go and stand at the doorway to the room, with the Italian men, I do not see the man I came with, and another says towards me while seated and playing poker, "Don't worry Kid, the show will soon be over." I stand there looking at the man, somewhat surprised, and I later soon turn around to go back to my room, as I await my burger, which was ordered, while I was standing at the doorway, to arrive. Twenty minutes later, the burger is there, a cheeseburger, which I take back into my room, and munch on it, under the auspicious glare, of Eminem. Done, twenty minutes later, having drank up a coke too, I decide to lay on the bed, and ponder what to do next. Its about 2 p.m., and for the next four hours, I find myself walking silently inside the house, and around outside the house, wishing I had brought some reading material.
It is about 5 p.m., and I am now back in my room, having been handed some newspapers to read, when there is a sharp knocking on the door. I open it hesitantly, really awaiting it to open from the other side, and as I pull it open, the burly man hands me a couple of jeans while saying, "Pick one." I look at them, somewhat puzzled, but upon spotting some leather jeans, lighten up, and pull them out. He closes the door before me, as I unravel the leather jeans, to take a good look at them. I look back at the door, close it from within, and try on the leather jeans. I don't know what to think of them, but I do feel a bit cautiously self-conscious, really wondering, what others will think of them. They look cool, I think to myself, looking down from above, at them. About 5:30 p.m., the door I had previously closed, but now open and shut, receives a knocking, and then opens widely. I am shocked and surprised, to see Joe Perry standing there. He on the otherhand, stares right at the leather jeans, and then looks at me with a perturbed and worried look, and while pointing sharply says, "That's kind of mean, man." I am taken aback, and quickly look down on the pants, and then look back at Joe Perry, worriedly, wondering what he could mean. The door opens up again, and Steven Tyler comes in through, to my surprise and while really looking at Joe Perry, happens to see me, and stops suddenly, quickly glances and then exclaims, "Whoaaa!! What went wrong here!", somewhat on raised feet and open hands low, before turning back to Joe Perry and hits him, on the shoulder chest, with the back of his hand while saying, "Can I see you for a moment?!!" Joe Perry shows Steven Tyler out of the room, and I stand there wondering what to do next. I am later on, handed a new pair of leather jeans, but these ones, more baggy. I am then made aware, that there will be a soiree at the house, in about an hours time, soon to be followed, by an evening party somewhere else, which I will both be attending. The soiree soon starts, in the backyard, and there are lots of people there. Like most men, I notice the women first, then the men. I have a drink with me, and I find myself milling around, listening in, to what is been said. I am not really a conversationalist, preferring to hold conversations, with people I know, as I do tend to speak my mind openly, sometimes unknowingly. I look around, and see all kinds of people, I do also notice Kim. I stand to look around, and simply analyze the people around me. I tend to divide my social sphere, into about four groups, whom I tend to notice, more than others. I tend to see the world socially, as made up of whities, blackies and brownies. Amongsts the brownies, I divide them into a further two groups, political brownies and religious brownies. It is my opinion, that each of these groups, has a belief in what constitutes civil behaviour, based on how they believe, civilization progresses. Whities to me, tend to see civilization progress, in the form of antagonistic behaviour. In more informal terms, whities believe that civilization arises, out of fights of all kinds. One group of whities attacks another, and the attacked group thinks of band aids, hospitals and other such health amenities. The attacked group then thinks of re-attacking the other, who probably live somewhere afar, and hence the need for trucks and roads. Before too long, you have a whole civilization up, from this kind of behaviour. It can all be seen, as being a more draconian form, of, 'keepin' up with the Joneses'. Then you have blackies, who view civilizations, as arising from the creation of political systems. Political systems, which are supposed to have a strong religious foundation to them, or they simply collapse. Africa, a continent, often seen as having no history, can best be viewed from this viewpoint. It is a continent historically characterized, by the rise and fall of political systems, often known as regimes, due to their having a poor religious background. These political systems, are often militaristic in nature. It is a history, that characterizes Africa to this day, as once benign and peaceful persons, often believed to be religious, become cartoon characters, once at the top, due to the lack of religiosity. Then you have brownies, or political brownies, who have had civilization, closely associated with dance. Many academics, often associate the history of the Americas, north and south, with that of dance, which interestingly enough, most Americans don't know what to think off. This history, is actually brownie history, in the Americas. With this group, you find that dance, instills in them intelligences, associated with maneuvering, strategizing and being a tactician. What you then see, is a certain person or group, coming up with a new dance, that makes them too streetwise and sharp, and has all the ladies, clamouring for their attention. This group, is then allowed to create political, economic and even religious systems, due to the support, by the women. The idea of contracting, was born of such brownie economic systems. The danger of it all, is having a too streetwise character, such as Michael Jacksons smooth criminal, taking over, who cannot really be overthrown. A possible fear, of some whities out there, is the fear of a tango or ballroom dancing brownie, maneuvering himself to the top of the political hierarchy, such as the presidency. This history has today been swept under the rag, and is covered under anything to do with Spanish America, or even Gangland America. The tango, began as a religious dance, and is believed, to make one politically suave. Most brownies today, are unaware of this, and often believe that brownie history, begins where dance, meets the gun, or simply, with NWA. I myself, see me, as being a religious brownie. To the religious brownie, civilization progresses, due to outstanding individuals, who make a great contribution, to history. A religious brownie, often sees himself or herself, as being of the same mold as, Imhotep, Shakespeare, da Vinci, and even, Miyamoto Musashi. Religious brownies, differ from political ones, in that, at their height, political brownies are like rapstars, while religious brownies, are like rockstars. Slash to me, appears to be another religious brownie. The soiree is soon done, with me having mostly milled around, and listened in. I find myself having enjoyed it, in the same manner one enjoys the 'November Rain' solo; its practically undescribable.
Later that evening, we are all off, to another meet, to be held downtown. I arrive there in a ford, and after exiting, await instructions on where to go. I follow the burly man, to an entrance of a museum like building, that has been sectioned off, to the public. There is a red carpet there, which catches me by surprise and shock. The burly man, who has crossed over the road and is standing over on the other side, motions to me, to move faster, and when I get to him, we quickly walk through the red carpet, as I glance on the onlookers standing there, wondering what they are thinking. I am through there, in a jiffy, and walk inside the building, to be met by a view. There are photos hanging all over, and it is all well decorated. The inside has two parts, one raised and one below. I later learn, that it's a benefit, to the protection, of Italian-American heritage, all over America. I look at some of the photographs, they are of Italian men, in one, standing next to a truck, looking rough, and later on, I can't help but think of how far, the Italian-American community, has come. I am asked to sit on a raised platform, on the upper level, with bars behind it, and I do, as I simply wait. Surprise does not fully explain my feelings, as the guests start pouring in. I see Arnold Schwarzenegger, Martina Hingis, Anthony Robbins, and even shockingly to me, Donald Trump. The evening is soon off to a great start. The platform I am seated on, is soon filled with other attendees, who are very much young to me. I am seated next to a girl, a white girl so to speak, named Becka. To me, white girl, often conjures up an image of a blonde, blue eyed roundfaced girl. We are all soon talking niceties, I not listening much, as there are a group of celebrities, one part below us. As the evening progresses, I find myself having gotten up, and made my way to the lower part. I don't have a drink with me, though I seek one. I get down there, and begin to mill around. I get the courage to close up, to a group which has Anthony Robbins, at its center. I distinctly hear him say,"...women, are more powerful than men. Women know and understand power, better than most men. That's why you have the penis issue, in just about every relationship. It is the equalizer, in every power relationship." I twitch nervously and look around, hoping to find someone who serves drinks. Seeing nobody, I decide to walk away, some distant, from where I see Donald Trump and surprisingly Al Pacino. I am not too pleased to see Al Pacino there, as it makes me feel as if, I am not on tour. They seem to be having an exchange of some sort, which I happen to listen in on, and also learn, partly about, later.
Donald Trump: "You just don't know what happened there Al, you just believe you do." Al Pacino: *arms raised* "really, I don't? Tell me, what happened there Donald." Donald Trump: *looking downwards* "You think you know me well enough, but you have no idea what really happened there."
From what I hear of later, Donald Trump was entering one of his complexes at the same time as Drew Carey was coming out, and instead of letting Drew Carey have the right of way, Donald Trump pushed him aside, and walked right through in.
Al Pacino: *Arms halfway raised* "Tell me Donald, what really happened there?" Donald Trump: "You really wanna know, what happened there...." Al Pacino: "I do" Donald Trump: *firmly* "do you really wanna know, what really happened there" Al Pacino: "Try me Donald." Donald Trump: "OKay, because, I feel, when I know someone well enough, am better than them."
Donald Trump at this moment stares between the group around him, while twirling his drink, as Al Pacino lowers his hands as if shocked and surprised. I stand there staring at them, but decide to quickly move on, in case, Al Pacino should turn around, and see me. I am meandering through the crowd and I do notice Martina Hingis, standing as if feeling awkward, which I kind of identify with, pleasingly. I am moving on somewhere else, when I recognize Arnold Schwarzenegger, from the backside, and slowly make my way up from behind him, to hear what he has to say. I am feeling excited as I do this, and as I meander up to him, I stop near by him, and begin to listen in. There is a group around him, who have their eyeballs deadest on him, as he speaks to them. I stand close, hoping not to be seen by any of them, and hear him say, "...you do not have a money problem, you have a personality problem. You have a fun personality, and not an enjoy personality. Fun personalities know nothing of money, and spend it all the time. Enjoy personalities, know how to make money and spend it. Just change your personality, its really that simple. Try drinking a cup of Kenyan coffee." Upon hearing that, I quickly gather myself, and kind of take off, and once again I find myself milling in between the attendants, below. As I am doing so, I kinda hear Becka calling me, from up one level, and as I turn to look at her, she motions towards the exit, from where I see the burly man, looking at me with hands open, as if asking, "What the hell do you think you are doing?" I kind of compose myself, and quickly make my way back to where Becka is. The rest of the evening goes of smoothly, although, I do find myself desiring, another Cheeseburger.
Its been one month, since Joe Perry, showed up at my door and, keen to say, he did not show up on the following day. Its another Saturday morning, and I find myself having awoken early, and simply laying on my bed. I get up, leave the room, have a shower before returning to my room again. As I am getting ready, while putting on a shirt, there is a ring from the doorbell, which makes me slightly jump, while looking back. I stand a moment before beginning to make my way down the stairs, to the living room. I arrive at the door, which I now open cautiously, wondering but not apprehensive, about who is behind it. I open the door; there is a burly Italian man standing there, and upon sharply turning to see me says, "Pack your things, lets get going." I am slightly shocked, and look at the man, who is dressed in a brown blazer jacket, but quickly turn around, to do as he says. I am up back, in my room, in no time, throwing all my clothes, into my case, and after quickly combing my hair, I make my way back to the front porch, with my belongings. I have on, a white vest, a white shirt, black pants and black shoes to match. "Button up" he says to me, then sharply turns around and begins walking through the long driveway, to a waiting van. I button up somewhat, and begin to quickly make my way down the driveway, while pulling my luggage, to the waiting van. I find the door to the van opened, when I get there: get in, after the man shifts himself up the seat, which I also share partly, with my luggage. As the van begins to move, I finish up, on my buttoning.
The van is moving away, from my home, and I slightly look around outside, as if deciphering, where we are going to. There is silence in the van, as the long haired driver simply looks on forward, and the burly man, simply sits still, looking forward too. I look somewhat apprehensively to my right and the driver, wondering where we could be going, with my hands, on my lap, gently rubbing. Some moments after this, the burly man says to me, "Don't worry kid, we'll soon be in the city." I look around as the van moves on, and I see NY everywhere, with the scenes, beginning to change drastically. I think of Harlem for a moment. We are soon, within the city, and I cannot stop staring around, having seen NY City, only on the reel; and I am amazed, at how huge, everything is. We soon get to, a hotel, whereby the burly man, then instructs me to open the van door, and get out. I do as told, and simply stand on the sidewalk with my luggage, waiting for the man to get out too, as the driver now stands by our door. The man is out, turns around to talk to the driver, who responds with a "Got'cha", before turning away and back into his drivers seat, while the burly man walks into the hotel while ordering me from the side, with a short arm throw, to follow him. I follow him from behind, looking around me cautiously. I do not notice, that there are mainly white people at the entrance to the hotel really, what I do notice, is how well dressed they are. For some reason, I imagine them to be good people. We get to an elevator, empty, which the burly man goes into, and I swiftly following, before having the doors shut, and the elevator begins to move on up. It stops at the sixth floor, and we both get out, me first, after an open hand gesture from the man to do so, and we are soon both, in the hallway. "Follow me" he says again, as he slides past me, and I begin to pull my case again, as we walk on. We get to a spacious room, that has a dining table in view, upon opening the door, and as I walk past it, following the man, we enter a bigger room, with some furniture in it, a big sofa and some arm chair sofas. There is a small table too in the room, with a lamp on. The man goes to the lamp and turns it on, as I sit on the sofa, and turn to notice that the curtains are mostly shut. The man then walks to the curtains, and fully shuts them, and then begins to walk out of the room while saying, "Don't go anywhere." I sit back fully on the sofa, and look around me on my left, feeling excited and showing it, as I wonder, what could really happen next. Minutes later, the burly man not having returned, there is a knock on the door, which I motionly, upward body, glance to look and listen to. Another knock, and the door opens, as I sit motionlessly upright, wondering, where the burly man is. In walks Joe Perry, who upon seeing me, then begins to look around the room as if somewhat miffed, before glancing at me again, and walking out. I sit back on the sofa, somewhat confused, at not having received a greeting, from Joe Perry. I am still seated on the sofa, now somewhat miffed too, as I wonder what will be going on, when the door opens again, and I hear some sharp feminine voices, and somewhat get up while seated, to see who it is, and not really get a look. There are three women, Italian, blonde and blue eyed, all surprisingly dressed the same, blue skirts and matching blue tops, white blouses. They sit around the table, in a formation I have come to know or understand to mean, do not disturb. I fully sit back, not feeling apprehensive, as I often believe, I can talk my way out of any situation, with a beautiful woman. Unlike most men, I do not really fear beautiful women; am the kind that believes in walking up to any beautiful woman, and saying what I feel. I feel I can get away with anything, when it comes to beautiful women. It's the plain women, and lower plain, that I tend to avoid.
As I am seated there, many minutes later, looking around the room and attempting to avoid looking at the ladies, seated at the dining table ahead of me, I quickly glance one of the ladies, looking at me. I am somewhat perturbed and after a slight side glance, I find myself smilimg smirkingly, back at her. She on the other hand, turns away, as if unknowingly, and continues talking to her friends. I kinda feel very self-conscious, after her looking away, with my luggage placed next by me. There is a sharp rapping on the door, and it opens, as the three Italian ladies, turn around to look. It is the burly man again, as I see him when he comes slightly into view, and with him, are other voices, I do not get to mostly see. He is carrying a bundle of papers, and begins to hand them out to those in the dining room. I get the feeling or need, to mention to them, and especially the burly man, that Joe Perry, was in here, many minutes ago. I however find myself still seated back, and simply sitting still, as I somewhat listen into what is being said. I don't get much of it, as it seems to be a rehash, of a previous breakdown. Minutes later they are done, with me looking at the curtains, brown, and wondering what material they are made off. As they prepare to get on the move, the burly man comes into the room I am in, grabs a hold of my luggage and begins to pull it before stopping to say out loud, "Jake!!" A blonde guy, with a youthful look, comes into the room, and quickly takes a hold off the luggage. He swiftly leaves the room soon after, and I aptly notice, my case, being wheeled away. The man is out again, with every else who came with him, some whom I did not see, and I am left once more, with the three ladies, in the room. Some minutes later, they too get up to leave, and do so, without a word. I find myself seated once again, all alone, in the room, not thinking much to myself, about anything. Minutes later again, the door slides open, and I hear the burly man say something to someone, before there is a crashing noise from the hallway, sounds like culinary, and the man instead then walks into my room, and says, 'Lets go kid.' I somewhat jump up, ready to go and also very much curious, of what just transpired, in the hallway. When I get there, with the burly man in front of me, I seemingly notice, that someone dropped some dining ware, including a dome, on the hallway floor. I quickly pick up pace, and follow the burly man, who is now ahead of me, into an elevator. We both get in, he punches on the elevator buttons, the elevator begins to move and in no time, we are out at the back of the hotel, through a steaming kitchen. Outside there, is the van I came in, with the same driver in it, and we both jump in again and as I do, I cannot but help think of Joe Perry, glancingly. We drive off and an hour later, having seated silently all the time, arrive at La Guardia. We drive around somewhat, as we get to where we are going, with me staring out of the windows and thinking smirkingly, "JKIA (Jomo Kenyatta International Airport), is not that neat." We arrive at our destination, and the driver quickly jumps out as the burly man does so too. He motions to me quickly, to get out and when I do, he shuts the van door, and slides past me while telling me, to come along. We enter into a building, that's part of the airport, and when in, I stop to look around, as the burly man asks me to wait a while, as he heads off to somewhere. Later on, I still standing where he left me, he comes out slightly from a slightly open door, and motions out to me, with a loud "Hey", and I quickly move towards his direction before I make it there walkingly. I go in, there is a minority woman in there, brown skinned, cute, who upon seeing me, stares back slightly, before beginning to hand me some documentation. There is a label with a pin on it, which upon reading, makes me stare at it and look up and towards the man surprisingly, as it clearly says, "Al Moor". Below my new name I believe, it also clearly shows, that I am a press team agent. I look back at the burly man again, who is now at the door, and he gesturingly motions me out of the room, and I pass by him, somewhat rapidly. I put on my label, after he tells me to, and carry my other documentation with me, and we then walk towards a door, with a security guard at it, whom the burly man greets in a NY drawl, before the guard opens the door, and lets us out into the open. We are out, in the open, at the back of the airport, and I can see, about three planes, which I later momentarily recognize, as being private planes. I am directed towards one of them, and quickly follow the man, in an excited manner, as we get near to it. We are by the plane, moments later, then by the stairs, up into the plane. There are other people there, climbing up the stairs, into the plane, and I join in line, as we go inside the plane. They all seem to somewhat know each other, and none knows me, something I somewhat strongly notice. We are, or I am, in the plane in no time and I appear to myself to be shocked, then slightly shocked, at how good it looks. It looks very much like a lounge of some sort, but feels like a pad. I look around, still amazed while waiting in line, as it moves slowly, towards the back of the plane. While still looking around, we begin to pass a group, already seated and partly talking. As I near it, I turn to look at its constituents, and I am surprisingly shocked, to see Steven Tyler, seated there, facing the other side, talking to someone, another man. I immediately somewhat stop, and look stare, at him. The man he is talking to, seems to be acutely aware of my presence and somewhat glances at me, which makes Steven Tyler aware of my presence too, and he turns his head towards me, before turning back to the man and with open hands, palms up, points at me and says, "Who-is this guy?!!" I quickly come back to my senses, and immediately notice that the people behind me, are waiting or awaiting me, to move. As I pass by the seating behind Steven Tyler, feeling a flush on my face, I notice Joe Perry seated there, but he is distinctively looking out of the window, appearing to have seen or heard nothing, moments ago.
I am seated somewhere at the back of the plane, and I notice, there is nobody, on both sides of me. Sooner though, the seats across me and the aisle, are filled, with the three ladies, who were in the hotel room with me. As I am seated, having distinctly noticed the three ladies besides me, and somewhat looking down at towards, the chair before me, I hear a voice distinctly say, "Move on over." I instead, let out my knees onto the aisle, to let the voice pass by, which I, moments after I begin moving, recognize to be African-American, and then really surprised, to see, that, its Jamie Foxx. I look up, as he begins to slide and glide by me, onto the seating besides me. He sits by the window, one seat away. He has a discman with him, and as we sit by silently, I awarely noticeably feel, his gaze on me. As I turn to look at him, he makes a somewhat duck face, before folding his brow and saying, "Whats your name?" I glance apprehensively, "Bantu, Bantu Moor." He looks down at my label and upon seeing it says, "hmm!" With the duck face still on, head cocked on the side, he says again to me, body moving aback, "Where-are you from?" I respond somewhat apprehensively but openly, "Kenya". He appears to be taken aback again, openly but slightly, as he folds his lips, into a tighter duck face, and then opening his face, inquisitively asks surprisingly, "You got a Visa to work as a press team agent?!!" It is then a voice rings out from the back and says, "Jamie!!", and we both turn around, to look at the voice. I notice another man at the back, working near the lavatories, and though he is of African descent, I know he is not African-American. "Excuse me" says Jamie Foxx, as he slides by me, and goes towards the voice, whom I am later made aware belongs to Pat, when his name is called out by a female voice, and further later on, recognize as being Haitian-American. I sit by myself, and I begin to think about what happened before rapidly, and quickly come to a conclusion, "Yeah, that guy is not cool, Jamie is not cool at all." I sit there by myself, but also become aware of the ladies by next to me, as they talk to themselves, and I find myself, embarrassingly glancing, once or twice, at their lower legs.
I am still seated in the plane, when Pat passes by me, and openly says, "How're you doin'." I nod my head down once, and find myself solemnly saying, "hey". A moment later, the plane begins to move, and I hear a female voice saying, "We're moving." I sit back, and begin to buckle up, as I notice and hear others, doing the same. The plane begins to 'tax' slowly, along the runway, as we head off, to our take off spot. I begin to look around, after having buckled up, wondering if Jamie Foxx, will be joining us, for this take off experience. I settle back into my seat, after not having seen him, and concentrate on the take off. The plane is still taxing, on the runway, as I turn to look out of the window, wondering many things at once, how long will the flight be, and where are we headed to. As the plane moves along, with my still looking out of the window, it turns, and then begins to slow down. It slows to a stop, and I turn to look, straight ahead. Everybody is still seated, minding their own business, and I hear and feel, the engines begin to rev up. At a certain point, when the engine noise is high enough, the plane slightly jumps forward, and begins to speed on the runway. There is nothing maybe I believe, that instills in one a feeling of power, than the feeling one gets, when in a plane, that is about take off. The plane is speeding and in no time, which surprises me, takes off. I am pulled back into my chair, and I do turn to look outside, at the receding landscape, and then turn again to look up front, before turning to view the three ladies, seated, next by me. When the plane is up and high above the clouds, people begin to relax again, and there is movement. At that time, the burly man shows up from somewhere up front, with some sheets of paper, which he hands to a few of us, at the back. I somewhat grab my copy, and begin to peruse it, somewhat interestingly, and upon really scanning it, it hits me, "We're on Tour". The document is a retinue, filled with a set of dates, three of them in total: Connecticut, Minnesota, Rhode Island. I glance up, and look around excitedly, but every one else, seems passe. The flight, to Connecticut, is pretty much relaxed, with people, simply talking with each other. I do hear Steven Tylers voice, go up and loud occasionally, and I turn to look frontwards momentarily many times, but mainly sit in my seat, as if awaiting someone to speak to me. Joe Perry passes by me, as he heads to the back of the plane, but I do not see or notice him, until he returns the same way, and disposingly hands me, a drink of sorts. It turns out, to be lemonade. The flight is calm, and for the rest of it, I sit back and read a magazine, occasionally looking up questioningly, as someone passes me by.
The plane touches down in Hartford, Connecticut, at about noon, on that Saturday. As the plane 'taxes' on the runway, I again find myself, looking around, just to see whats going on. The plane finally comes to a stop, and within minutes, its time to disembark. From the front, I see Steven Tyler suddenly jump up lowly and say, "Whooaa!! Somebody get me out of this plane." I too get up, almost immediately, and find myself looking around at the other seated passengers. I look sideways for a moment, before turning to look back for a time, before slowly again, setting myself back into my seat. The exit door, upfront of the plane, has already slid open, and there are some people standing near the exit. I get a good look, and I see the burly man amongst others, standing there. Steven Tyler and Joe Perry, are amongst the first out, and I sit coolly, while I await my turn. Its soon time to disembark, for me, and I look around again, to see if I can spot Jamie Foxx, but I see nobody. I am soon nearing the door, and some paces before me, are the three Italian ladies, one who is called Kim, as her name is mentioned, by someone standing at the exit, a woman. We are all soon out, and I find myself standing on the tarmack, wondering what next. I still have my documentation with me, and I stand there looking around, to see if I can spot the burly man and even, for a slight moment, Joe Perry. As people begin to leave, I begin to worry a little, as I cannot see the burly man or even Joe Perry anywhere, and I find myself, following some of the passengers, hoping to spot either of the above two, at any moment. As I am moving away from the plane, a voice rings out, "Hey Kid!!" which I turn immediately towards too, to see the burly man, standing near the planes nose, behind it, shouting again, "over here!" There is a little vehicle, like a golf cart, nearby, which he jumps into, and again motions me over, with his arm. I walk speedily towards the cart, jump in, next to the man, and soon, we are on our way, to some point, yet unknown. I kinda feel disappointed, a little, as this was not how I somewhat believed, I would be exiting the airport at Hartford. I kinda imagined, to myself really, a scene of me, Joe Perry and Steven Tyler amongst a few others, walking through the airport, amongst many gazes and stares, mainly from women, all asking pointingly at me, "Who is that?!!" But that's just me, and my private musings and as the vehicle speeds on, along the tarmack, I take a small look around, before we approach a stationary building, where we find a group of people, some, passengers from the flight, standing and milling around, talking and looking around. We get to them, and disembark, from the vehicle, and somewhat join them. The burly man turns to look around at the runway, as if awaiting something. Few minutes later, a group of Fords, SUVs, start to make their way, towards us, three in total, which I look upon with some excitement. They slow down, as they approach us, and I am motioned towards one, by the burly man, a red one, which I make for, almost immediately. I get in, back seat, while the burly man jumps into the front, and we are joined by one more passenger at the back, a woman, the one who called out Kims name. We soon drive out of the airport, I somewhat questioning the procedure silently, but not really thinking too much of it.
We arrive at a house, somewhere in the city, and as we drive through Hartford, I can't help but think, "It sure ain't New York". We are at the house, one storey, and I stand outside, before the Ford, as I wait to be asked to go in. The burly man, who has been chatting up the driver, through the open door on his side, shuts it, straightens out his blazer jacket, collar, and then begins to walk to the house, as he motions me to follow him. I follow suit from behind him, and soon we are in the spacious house, which I enter precautiously, but not showingly. It is small but big, and there are several rooms in it. In one room, I spot several burly Italian men, seated around a table, playing cards and smoking cigars. I continue following the man, and in another room, I see Kim and her friends, before being shown into an empty room, with a bed in it, both small, with a big window. There is a poster of Eminem, straight ahead of the bed ends, which I look at with some interest. "Stay in here, I will be right back" says the burly man, as he heads on out, and closes the door behind me. I sit on the bed, and wonder what happens next. I have been in there for fifteen minutes, having looked outside the window several times, I see Hartfords skyline, some trees before me, and having looked at the Eminem poster too, several times. The door suddenly opens again, and I turn wide eyed, looking, to see whats going on, as the burly man comes through, pulling my luggage. He stops and says, "You luggage is here", and looks at me, and I back at him, he then slightly folds his mouth, and turns to leave. It somewhat hits me, when gone, he was waiting to see, if I needed anything more. I look at my luggage, after he leaves, seated on the bed, and wonder whats next. Fifteen minutes later, I find myself walking out of my room door, as I peer out into the corridor, and begin making my way, through the path, I came in through. I pass Kims room, and see spot her, with her friends, also playing cards, having some drinks. As I pass the room with the burly Italiam men, I hear one shout, "Don't go anywhere", which makes me stop, on my tracks. I stand there with a folded mouth, wondering what to do next. I had somewhat imagined, I would be going to see the show, elsewhere, my mind however then, turns to my somewhat rumbling stomach. "Maybe he's hungry", I hear a voice say from the room, and another adds, "order a burger or something." I go and stand at the doorway to the room, with the Italian men, I do not see the man I came with, and another says towards me while seated and playing poker, "Don't worry Kid, the show will soon be over." I stand there looking at the man, somewhat surprised, and I later soon turn around to go back to my room, as I await my burger, which was ordered, while I was standing at the doorway, to arrive. Twenty minutes later, the burger is there, a cheeseburger, which I take back into my room, and munch on it, under the auspicious glare, of Eminem. Done, twenty minutes later, having drank up a coke too, I decide to lay on the bed, and ponder what to do next. Its about 2 p.m., and for the next four hours, I find myself walking silently inside the house, and around outside the house, wishing I had brought some reading material.
It is about 5 p.m., and I am now back in my room, having been handed some newspapers to read, when there is a sharp knocking on the door. I open it hesitantly, really awaiting it to open from the other side, and as I pull it open, the burly man hands me a couple of jeans while saying, "Pick one." I look at them, somewhat puzzled, but upon spotting some leather jeans, lighten up, and pull them out. He closes the door before me, as I unravel the leather jeans, to take a good look at them. I look back at the door, close it from within, and try on the leather jeans. I don't know what to think of them, but I do feel a bit cautiously self-conscious, really wondering, what others will think of them. They look cool, I think to myself, looking down from above, at them. About 5:30 p.m., the door I had previously closed, but now open and shut, receives a knocking, and then opens widely. I am shocked and surprised, to see Joe Perry standing there. He on the otherhand, stares right at the leather jeans, and then looks at me with a perturbed and worried look, and while pointing sharply says, "That's kind of mean, man." I am taken aback, and quickly look down on the pants, and then look back at Joe Perry, worriedly, wondering what he could mean. The door opens up again, and Steven Tyler comes in through, to my surprise and while really looking at Joe Perry, happens to see me, and stops suddenly, quickly glances and then exclaims, "Whoaaa!! What went wrong here!", somewhat on raised feet and open hands low, before turning back to Joe Perry and hits him, on the shoulder chest, with the back of his hand while saying, "Can I see you for a moment?!!" Joe Perry shows Steven Tyler out of the room, and I stand there wondering what to do next. I am later on, handed a new pair of leather jeans, but these ones, more baggy. I am then made aware, that there will be a soiree at the house, in about an hours time, soon to be followed, by an evening party somewhere else, which I will both be attending. The soiree soon starts, in the backyard, and there are lots of people there. Like most men, I notice the women first, then the men. I have a drink with me, and I find myself milling around, listening in, to what is been said. I am not really a conversationalist, preferring to hold conversations, with people I know, as I do tend to speak my mind openly, sometimes unknowingly. I look around, and see all kinds of people, I do also notice Kim. I stand to look around, and simply analyze the people around me. I tend to divide my social sphere, into about four groups, whom I tend to notice, more than others. I tend to see the world socially, as made up of whities, blackies and brownies. Amongsts the brownies, I divide them into a further two groups, political brownies and religious brownies. It is my opinion, that each of these groups, has a belief in what constitutes civil behaviour, based on how they believe, civilization progresses. Whities to me, tend to see civilization progress, in the form of antagonistic behaviour. In more informal terms, whities believe that civilization arises, out of fights of all kinds. One group of whities attacks another, and the attacked group thinks of band aids, hospitals and other such health amenities. The attacked group then thinks of re-attacking the other, who probably live somewhere afar, and hence the need for trucks and roads. Before too long, you have a whole civilization up, from this kind of behaviour. It can all be seen, as being a more draconian form, of, 'keepin' up with the Joneses'. Then you have blackies, who view civilizations, as arising from the creation of political systems. Political systems, which are supposed to have a strong religious foundation to them, or they simply collapse. Africa, a continent, often seen as having no history, can best be viewed from this viewpoint. It is a continent historically characterized, by the rise and fall of political systems, often known as regimes, due to their having a poor religious background. These political systems, are often militaristic in nature. It is a history, that characterizes Africa to this day, as once benign and peaceful persons, often believed to be religious, become cartoon characters, once at the top, due to the lack of religiosity. Then you have brownies, or political brownies, who have had civilization, closely associated with dance. Many academics, often associate the history of the Americas, north and south, with that of dance, which interestingly enough, most Americans don't know what to think off. This history, is actually brownie history, in the Americas. With this group, you find that dance, instills in them intelligences, associated with maneuvering, strategizing and being a tactician. What you then see, is a certain person or group, coming up with a new dance, that makes them too streetwise and sharp, and has all the ladies, clamouring for their attention. This group, is then allowed to create political, economic and even religious systems, due to the support, by the women. The idea of contracting, was born of such brownie economic systems. The danger of it all, is having a too streetwise character, such as Michael Jacksons smooth criminal, taking over, who cannot really be overthrown. A possible fear, of some whities out there, is the fear of a tango or ballroom dancing brownie, maneuvering himself to the top of the political hierarchy, such as the presidency. This history has today been swept under the rag, and is covered under anything to do with Spanish America, or even Gangland America. The tango, began as a religious dance, and is believed, to make one politically suave. Most brownies today, are unaware of this, and often believe that brownie history, begins where dance, meets the gun, or simply, with NWA. I myself, see me, as being a religious brownie. To the religious brownie, civilization progresses, due to outstanding individuals, who make a great contribution, to history. A religious brownie, often sees himself or herself, as being of the same mold as, Imhotep, Shakespeare, da Vinci, and even, Miyamoto Musashi. Religious brownies, differ from political ones, in that, at their height, political brownies are like rapstars, while religious brownies, are like rockstars. Slash to me, appears to be another religious brownie. The soiree is soon done, with me having mostly milled around, and listened in. I find myself having enjoyed it, in the same manner one enjoys the 'November Rain' solo; its practically undescribable.
Later that evening, we are all off, to another meet, to be held downtown. I arrive there in a ford, and after exiting, await instructions on where to go. I follow the burly man, to an entrance of a museum like building, that has been sectioned off, to the public. There is a red carpet there, which catches me by surprise and shock. The burly man, who has crossed over the road and is standing over on the other side, motions to me, to move faster, and when I get to him, we quickly walk through the red carpet, as I glance on the onlookers standing there, wondering what they are thinking. I am through there, in a jiffy, and walk inside the building, to be met by a view. There are photos hanging all over, and it is all well decorated. The inside has two parts, one raised and one below. I later learn, that it's a benefit, to the protection, of Italian-American heritage, all over America. I look at some of the photographs, they are of Italian men, in one, standing next to a truck, looking rough, and later on, I can't help but think of how far, the Italian-American community, has come. I am asked to sit on a raised platform, on the upper level, with bars behind it, and I do, as I simply wait. Surprise does not fully explain my feelings, as the guests start pouring in. I see Arnold Schwarzenegger, Martina Hingis, Anthony Robbins, and even shockingly to me, Donald Trump. The evening is soon off to a great start. The platform I am seated on, is soon filled with other attendees, who are very much young to me. I am seated next to a girl, a white girl so to speak, named Becka. To me, white girl, often conjures up an image of a blonde, blue eyed roundfaced girl. We are all soon talking niceties, I not listening much, as there are a group of celebrities, one part below us. As the evening progresses, I find myself having gotten up, and made my way to the lower part. I don't have a drink with me, though I seek one. I get down there, and begin to mill around. I get the courage to close up, to a group which has Anthony Robbins, at its center. I distinctly hear him say,"...women, are more powerful than men. Women know and understand power, better than most men. That's why you have the penis issue, in just about every relationship. It is the equalizer, in every power relationship." I twitch nervously and look around, hoping to find someone who serves drinks. Seeing nobody, I decide to walk away, some distant, from where I see Donald Trump and surprisingly Al Pacino. I am not too pleased to see Al Pacino there, as it makes me feel as if, I am not on tour. They seem to be having an exchange of some sort, which I happen to listen in on, and also learn, partly about, later.
Donald Trump: "You just don't know what happened there Al, you just believe you do." Al Pacino: *arms raised* "really, I don't? Tell me, what happened there Donald." Donald Trump: *looking downwards* "You think you know me well enough, but you have no idea what really happened there."
From what I hear of later, Donald Trump was entering one of his complexes at the same time as Drew Carey was coming out, and instead of letting Drew Carey have the right of way, Donald Trump pushed him aside, and walked right through in.
Al Pacino: *Arms halfway raised* "Tell me Donald, what really happened there?" Donald Trump: "You really wanna know, what happened there...." Al Pacino: "I do" Donald Trump: *firmly* "do you really wanna know, what really happened there" Al Pacino: "Try me Donald." Donald Trump: "OKay, because, I feel, when I know someone well enough, am better than them."
Donald Trump at this moment stares between the group around him, while twirling his drink, as Al Pacino lowers his hands as if shocked and surprised. I stand there staring at them, but decide to quickly move on, in case, Al Pacino should turn around, and see me. I am meandering through the crowd and I do notice Martina Hingis, standing as if feeling awkward, which I kind of identify with, pleasingly. I am moving on somewhere else, when I recognize Arnold Schwarzenegger, from the backside, and slowly make my way up from behind him, to hear what he has to say. I am feeling excited as I do this, and as I meander up to him, I stop near by him, and begin to listen in. There is a group around him, who have their eyeballs deadest on him, as he speaks to them. I stand close, hoping not to be seen by any of them, and hear him say, "...you do not have a money problem, you have a personality problem. You have a fun personality, and not an enjoy personality. Fun personalities know nothing of money, and spend it all the time. Enjoy personalities, know how to make money and spend it. Just change your personality, its really that simple. Try drinking a cup of Kenyan coffee." Upon hearing that, I quickly gather myself, and kind of take off, and once again I find myself milling in between the attendants, below. As I am doing so, I kinda hear Becka calling me, from up one level, and as I turn to look at her, she motions towards the exit, from where I see the burly man, looking at me with hands open, as if asking, "What the hell do you think you are doing?" I kind of compose myself, and quickly make my way back to where Becka is. The rest of the evening goes of smoothly, although, I do find myself desiring, another Cheeseburger.
