Your Most Embarrassing Moment…Ever

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***Couple quick announcements before we get started today***

—You may have noticed (and by “you may have noticed” I mean “you definitely didn’t notice, but I’ll telling you anyway”) that the “Buzz/Press” section on our page has been updated. It had been neglected for far too long, and the additions are due to the hard work of one of our awesome interns, Mylon P. Medley. The page is living and breathing — it’ll continually be updated with edits and additions — so make sure to check it out if you get a chance.

—I’ll be in Philly today for the Blogging While Brown conference, to appear on a panel with the homies Kaniesha Grayson and Michelle Talbert. If you’re in the area — or if you just know where to get the best cheesesteaks and shit — hit me up on Twitter, in the comments, or at contact@verysmartbrothas.com. If you do come to conference, I’ll be the one with the egghead and the “I Love Bougie Black Girls” t-shirt.

—R.G., our first Very Smart Single, is still rocking the hell out of that dress. Fellas (and ladies too, I guess), hit us up at contact@verysmartbrothas.com with “Very Smart Singles: R.G.” as the subject if interested in getting to know her better.

—Lastly, on Saturday, June 2, 2012, we’ve got another edition of REMINSCE at Liv Nightclub coming up! Except this time, we’re gonna be celebrating Panama’s birthday! Please come out and hang the VSB team.

Plus, it’s free before 11pm w/RSVP (reminiscedc.eventbrite.com) and $10 after. AND there’s an open bar from 930-10:30 WITH NO DRESS CODE. You can come in shorts because it gets HOT in there.

You know those assholes who never, ever, ever get sick and always feel the need to remind everyone any chance they get of the fact that they never, ever, ever get sick? You don’t? Well, congratulations. You’ve just met one of those assholes: Me.

I’m the guy who has never taken a true sick day at work and loves to remind people of that; the guy who will rock a blazer and a t-shirt on a 40 degree day and laugh at everyone who says I’m going to get sick; the guy who dated a person who had the freakin swine flu (seriously), slept in the same bed with her two nights in a row, and didn’t get as much as a sniffle.

Now, if this were a movie, the “I never get sick” guy would undoubtedly get some mysterious exotic elephant illness towards the middle of the movie as some sort of karmic payback for him incessantly bragging about his immune system. This character would probably be played by Jim Carrey or Dane Cook, and the title of the movie would probably be “Sick Day” or “No Flu Lou” or some shit.

My life isn’t a movie, but as you would have it, that exact thing happened to me. In early December I came down with some mysterious illness that kept me in bed for three days and made me take — no lie — approximately 40 shits in a 48 hour span. (Seriously, it got so bad that I actually fell asleep on the toilet three or four separate times because I was spending so much time sitting there)

By the 4th day, I started to feel strong enough to get out of bed and eat something. I was still very sick, but I was definitely getting better. By the fifth day, I was feeling so much better that I decided to leave the house. I had just received a phone call that the Ebony Magazine that had VSB on the Power 100 list was finally in stores, and I went to Giant Eagle to purchase a few copies.

You know how in horror movies, every thing is good until one of the characters makes a really, really bad decision? Well, going to Giant Eagle in the condition I was in was me basically saying “Hey, lets go skinny-dipping in the same lake where that guy who killed all those kids last summer was last seen!!!”

When I first entered the store, everything was cool. I was still very weak from being sick for so long, but I was able to move around pretty well, my stomach wasn’t too upset, and I was basically just happy to be leaving the house and getting some fresh air. But, as I neared the magazine section, I felt a slight rumble in my stomach. Seconds later, the slight rumble started turning hot — the heat that tells you some liquid is getting ready to leave your body very violently very soon.

Still, although I felt this, I thought that I had enough time to pick up the magazine, head to the register, and get back home before I eventually exploded. I was wrong. Very wrong. I underestimated the violent intent of the brown liquid itching to leave my body, and I definitely also underestimated how weak the 72 hours of shitting had made my sphincter.

By the time I realized that I needed to forget about everything and just head the f*ck home as soon as possible, it was too late. There I was, a grown-ass Black man with multiple tattoos, a Dodge Charger, and a full beard, and I shit myself in the middle of a f*cking supermarket.

Luckily, no one was close enough to me around me to notice, but that was a small consolation as I dealt with the fact that in less than 15 seconds, I’d gone from “a guy who doesn’t shit on himself in supermarkets” to “a guy who shits on himself in supermarkets.” Not a status I was ready to accept.

Getting home was also a bit of an ordeal. Since I (understandably) didn’t want to sit on the seats in my car, I ended up getting a few plastic grocery bags that were on a table near where I was parked, spread them on my seats, and sat on them. I have no idea where these bags came from, who put them there, or what was in them before I sat on them. But, when you’re walking around with a half cup of diarrhea dripping down your leg, you’re not exactly in a place to be making rational decisions.

To add insult to injury, I got the following text message when I finally made it home::

“My bad, Damon. The Ebony with VSB in it doesn’t actually hit stores until next week”

Motherf*cker!

Anyway, people of VSB: You just heard mine, and I’m curious to hear about the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever had.

We’re all fam here. Don’t be scurred to share.

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

How Idris Elba Proves That “Cool’ Is More Important Than “Swag”

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If you were to ask 1000 random Black women to name the single sexiest and most attractive man in American pop culture today, I’d bet a month’s pay that Idris Elba would come out on top. In fact, considering the sheer obsession some women seem to have for him — at a house party I attended a couple weeks ago, I heard a woman call him “the epitome of sexy” — I wouldn’t be surprised if he got 20 to 30 percent of the votes.

This in itself isn’t surprising. Elba is an “understandably attractive” man (“understandably attractive” = “other guys get why woman are into him and even expect them to be”), and he’s the best current candidate to fill the “Black hearthrob with a first name no other American has ever had” quota previously manned by Denzel Washington.

What is surprising, though, is that if you asked the same 1000 women to name the one celebrity whose sexual appeal is completely overrated, Idris Elba might get first place on that list too. There seems to be just as many women who don’t see what the big deal about him is as there are who are infatuated with him.

On face value, this doesn’t make much sense. Actually, lemme rephrase that. It doesn’t make much sense…until you remember how he first entered our collective consciousness: As Stringer Bell on HBO’s “The Wire”

Cool, calculating, manipulative, imposing, and always the “smartest man in the room” — well, at least he thought he was always the smartest man in the room — few characters in television history had as much of a cultural impact as Bell did, and the previously unknown Elba was the perfect person for that star-making role.

Why does this matter? Well, it seems like Black women’s feelings about Elba are directly correlated to when they first saw him. Basically, my completely unscientific opinion tells me that the majority of the women who are gaga over him first saw him as Stringer Bell, while the majority of the women who don’t see what the big deal is first saw him in “Obsessed” or “Sometimes in April” or “Daddy’s Little Girls” — roles where he’s nowhere near as cool as he was on “The Wire.”

Now, if you were to ask those same Idris-obsessed women what exactly it is about him that saturates their panties, most would probably cite something having to do with his unmistakable and indescribable swagger. While I won’t say they’re incorrect, I think it goes a bit deeper than that.

As stated earlier, women who first saw Elba on “The Wire” seem to be the ones most enthralled with his “swag.” This is no accident. The character was intentionally written to be a person practically dripping in brooding confidence, and Idris Elba was placed in a perfect position to show off his attributes. His swag was able to resonate so deeply because of the manufactured coolness of the character he portrayed. In this sense, David Simon was the best wingman ever.

While thinking about how Elba’s hold over Black women’s ovaries is directly connected to him being placed in a position that enabled him to be cool, I couldn’t help but also think about how it applies to our dating and relationships lives. More specifically, how we put a premium on a man’s swagger and the effect it has on women even though his “coolness” actually matters much more than that.

The swagger/emotive confidence thing is something that many men just aren’t ever going to be able to possess. But, while many assume that this is a death knell to a man’s dating life (especially a Black man’s), any man can be cool if they can find a way to replicate the type of environment that made Idris the “epitome of sexy.” It probably won’t happen on the same scale (and by “probably” I mean “definitely”), but it can happen.

The problem with nerdy/socially awkward/introverted guys who claim to have difficulties meeting and attracting women isn’t their lack “swag” or that all women want bad boys or whatever self-depreciating excuse of the month happens to be popular. No, they’re  struggling because many of them are desperately trying to be something they’re not, and they haven’t found a way to manufacture their cool yet, leaving them stuck competing in places where they have no chance to succeed.

Let me put it this way: If you’re a shy and somewhat socially awkward engineer who has to labor to approach and talk to women, nightclubs, bars, and lounges probably aren’t the best places for you to meet them. You know what would be though? A NSBE conference. You know what would be even better? A NSBE conference where you’re a speaker on a panel about some super smart shit only 17 other people in the world understand. You know what would be even better than that? A panel you organized to gather people interested in some super smart engineer shit.

Basically, if you’re not “cool” in a traditional sense, put yourself in a position that enables you to be cool. And, if those positions don’t currently exist, invent them!

If you’re good at what you do and you’re able to put yourself in a position where your talents are recognized, trust me when I say that regardless of how weird, unusual, or “uncool” your specific skill is, there will be people out there who appreciate you for it. (and by “people” I mean “women”) Shit, if you’re a cat who happens to be an expert crocheter and a comic book maven, start a professional network for crocheting-ass n*ggas who like to read comic books, and watch how much more popular and “cool” you’ll get in if actually takes off.

Maybe you’ll never be the swagged out cat who attracts all the eyes at the club like Stringer Bell. But, if you’re a friendless recluse who has more experience with computer codes than coochie, invent something that brings people into your environment, on your playing field — something that makes people acknowledge whatever unique skill you bring to the table. If it worked for Mark Zuckerberg, it can also work for you.

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

***If you haven’t noticed, we also posted our first “Very Smart Single” today as well. Check out R.G.’s profile and hit us up at contact@verysmartbrothas.com if interested in her***

On Saturday, June 2, 2012, we’ve got another edition of REMINSCE at Liv Nightclub coming up! Except this time, we’re gonna be celebrating Panama’s birthday! Please come out and hang the VSB team. Plus, it’s free before 11pm w/RSVP (reminiscedc.eventbrite.com) and $10 after. AND there’s an open bar from 930-10:30 WITH NO DRESS CODE. You can come in shorts because it gets HOT in there.

Very Smart Single Of The Week: “R.G.”

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Name: R.G.
Location: Los Angeles

Hello People of VSB!!

I would say I’m excited to have this opportunity, but that makes me sound like a desperate broad. I’ll rephrase and say that I’m excited VSB decided to pursue this endeavor.

To start, I proudly boast that I hail from St. Louis (no, I’m not related to Nelly), but I reside in LA. It’s been about 4 years since my relocation, so it’s appropriate to say that I live here now. I dislike talking about my job (it’s boring), so I’ll skip that part. Just know that I make a living in the TV industry. So, let’s talk about something more than just my work because I’m definitely much more than that. I like long walks on the beach and romantic dinners. Kidding. (Editor’s note: She’s lying)

I do love the beach, but in my free time I’d rather be more active and do something besides lay around. My favorite movies are ones that don’t require me to think…like “Blades of Glory.” Simply because when I’m relaxing, that’s all I want to do: sit back and laugh without a care in the world. When I’m not watching movies, I’m at a trendy social event, sipping tea on the promenade, or watching football (YES, I’m a Rams/Bears fan). No seriously, I can tell you which local sports bars serve breakfast for the 10am games; that’s my thing.

That’s about all for now since I’m sure I’m at the word count limit. Hit me up!

***If interested in getting to know R.G. a little better, hit us up at contact@verysmartbrothas.com with “Very Smart Singles: R.G.” as the subject***

A Second-By-Second Breakdown of “Qualified, Yet Single: Why Good Black Men Remain Single”

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0:01: As the ridiculous trailer to “Qualified, Yet Single: Why Good Men Remain Single” — a new film created by “psychotherapist and relationship counselor” Dr. Dwayne L. Buckingham to take a look at what’s really keeping “good” brothas from committing — begins, a strange fear comes over me. The awkward title, awkwarder graphics, and awkwardest song choice (“Umi Says?” Really?) lets me know that I’m in store for two minutes and 47 seconds worth of anti-classic material so snark-worthy and cheesy that, by the end of this clip, I’ll assume I was just Punk’d. Five seconds in, and I’m already looking forward to the fun I’m going to have making fun of this production.

So, where does the “strange fear” come from? As self-aware as I (hope I) am, a part of me can’t help but wonder if I, when I’m explaining why I’ve never been married, look and sound as ridiculous as the men on screen. I’m 93.2% certain that I don’t, but before I continue to chronicle this edition of Dr. Drew meets Everest College, I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge what was in the back of my mind.

Anyway…

0:07: In what can easily be interpreted as a five second-long PSA for masturbation, a very sneakily attractive woman who clearly had no idea she was going to be on camera that day speaks about how women need to love themselves to keep from loving “the dogs.” If only someone told that to Michael Vick.

0:21: Am I the only one who thinks that Black men who rock ridiculous bow ties without a hint of irony should just have their names legally changed to “Bowtie Ass N*gga?” That’s just me? Ok. Moving on.

0:27: As the cameraman decides to focus on Bowtie Ass N*ggas’ teeth, I’m starting to wonder why, in a 150 second long clip about why “good” Black men are single, the first 30 seconds were spent discussing what women need to be doing differently. Hmmm.

0:32: I can say with complete confidence that I’ve never had another man look at me as intensely as Carl Thomas is looking at Bowtie Ass N*gga. Now, I’m not saying that it will never happen, and I also don’t mean to imply that there’s anything wrong with it happening if it happened to happen. All I’m saying is that I know that in my three decades on this planet, I’ve never had another man peer longingly into my soul with a thousand yard stare.

0:50: Is “Old ass guy on camera talking about how he’ll never get married until he finds his queen” the last step you take before becoming “Old ass guy at the club?”

1:02: I have to say that I can relate to the sentiment expressed about not giving 100%. But, while the guy on screen blames his reluctance on a fear of the woman “not coming through,” I have no such fear, and I’m legitimately puzzled about where this insistence on living life on a peripheral level comes from. Maybe I’m scared of love and commitment. Maybe, to quote a character from “Mad Men” speaking about Don Draper, I “only like the beginnings of things.” Who knows?

1:12: If I was a marriage cynic, I’d make the counterargument that “qualified” men are staying single specifically because they’re using their “big” heads instead of the “little” ones. Basically, they’ve realized that the benefits of staying single outweigh the benefits of marriage. (I think) I’m not a marriage cynic though, so I won’t make that argument.

1:20: What was actually not really that bad of a video starts to spiral down hill as Kevin Hart’s Uncle Ritchie Jr. decides to make his first ever screen appearance. While he does make one very good sounding point with the type of rhythmic syntax regularly incorporated by Black politicians and predicate felons (“Good man in his head is a good man in his head only“), I couldn’t help but be reminded of why I have an irrationally rational fear of prison.

1:37: Guy in one of those confusing blazer/sweatshirt combo things you always find in discount racks at Macy’s makes a good point about good men and good women not finding each other. Still, no answers about why “good” Black men are single. This entire video is a red herring.

This is the point where someone should probably make the point that not all single men are single by choice. Some cats tell themselves that their singledom is a conscious decision when it really just comes down to the fact that  they just don’t have romantic/sexual access to the women they think they “deserve.”

This is also the point where I begin to curse myself for thinking that writing a second by second recap of this shit would be a good idea.

1:44: She’s cute in an “my ex boyfriend kind of still thinks we’re together and might break into your crib one day while you’re at work and sit on the couch and wait for you to get home so you can talk about things and resolve this situation” sort of way.

1:57: My favorite part of the video begins as Carl Thomas returns to the screen to bless us with his “very successful” presence, his unbuttoned blouse reminding us all of when our grandmothers told us not to trust Michael Beach or any other light-skinned man who wears long-sleeved shirts with no undershirt.

Actually, after hearing him talk some (and reading some of the comments attached to this video at Clutch), I definitely think the producer was looking for a “Hill Harper-ass n*gga” to put in his video, and just found the first one he could find. I think I’m just going to call him Phil Farper.

2:10: Not to be outdone by Phil Farper’s Phil Farperness, a guy in a gray H&M blazer says, with a straight face, that he doesn’t have any flaws. Forget Diva Dude, this n*gga’s the motherf*ckin Hope Diamond.

2:20: As the jazz played in every sex scene in every Spike Lee movie ever made plays in the background, the clip ends with another cryptic voiceover about men being pussies and a shot of the DVD this trailer is based on. I think Dr. Buckingham should have chosen a better cover.

I have to say that, as far as trailers where the only women interviewed are in Greyhound station hair salons and the only men interviewed are at Kappa BBQs or prisons go, this wasn’t half bad. With that being said, there wasn’t any new insight. The crackheads selling lawnmowers outside of my barbershop could have told him that “good” Black men are single because they’re either too scared to commit or too full of themselves to even contemplate commitment, and they would have been much more entertaining interview subjects.

Anyway, people of VSB.com, what did you think about the video? Are you mad at me for forcing you to waste 150 seconds of your life? Also, play Dr. for a minute and give you own personal reasons why you think so many Black men are choosing to stay single.

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”) 

Why Nas’ “Daughters” Is 100% Right And 100% Wrong At The Same Time

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Full disclosure: I’m a “Nas guy.” 

What this basically means is that even though I recognize the fact that Jay-Z has had a (much) better career, better albums, and generally seems like he’d be a better person to be around, I’m more of a fan of what Nas represents. Now, what the hell does Nas represent? I have no f*cking clue. But, whatever it is that he represents, I’m more of a fan of that than I am of what Jay-Z “represents.”

If this makes no sense to you, good. It makes no sense to me either, but it helps explain why I still feel in my heart that “Ether” was a better song than “Takeover” even though I know in my brain that “Takeover” was better.

I’m bringing this up because, “Daughters” — Nas’ recent ode to fatherhood and raising a daughter — is not a good song, and it truly pains me to admit this. It’s pandering, saccharin, cringe-worthy, awkward, and just overall freaking annoying. Yes. Annoying. This is an annoying song. This song annoys me.

Thing is, although this song annoys the hell out of me, I appreciate it. I appreciate what Nas was attempting to do here. I appreciate his effort. This — the effort — is probably what it is about what Nas “represents” that connects with me in a way that doesn’t with Jay-Z. Basically, Jigga’s a chess player, a person who doesn’t seem to do or say anything without processing the dozen or so moves that will come afterwards. While this has definitely helped him craft the best career any rapper has ever had and become a true “business, man,” there’s a certain tinge of inauthenticity that permeates much of what he says and does. Jay-Z may in fact be a “realer” person than Nas, but Nas’ penchant for artistic implusivity makes him feel realer.

And, despite the fact that it’s pandering, saccharin, cringe-worthy, awkward, and f*cking annoying, ”Daughters” is a real song. It seems to come from a man genuinely concerned about the type of example he’s set for his child, and genuinely concerned about his daughter’s well-being.

Now, you can make the argument that this concern may be self-serving. Perhaps he cares so much because he’s aware of how a daughter’s (mis)behavior reflects on the father, and he wishes to spare himself the embarrassment of hearing rumors that his daughter is becoming the type of woman attracted to men who treat women the way he has. Even if this is true, though, this feeling comes from a genuine place, a real place, and it’s understandable and laudable.

Nas’ implusivity gives him huge blind spots though, and none are bigger than the fact that “Daughters” — a song Nas made to protect his daughter and profess his love for her — shits on his own daughter!  He leads both of the song’s first two verses with information putting his daughter’s business and, ultimately, her reputation on full blast.

From verse two:

This morning I got a call, nearly split my wig
This social network said “Nas go and get ya kid”
She’s on Twitter, I know she ain’t gon post no pic
Of herself underdressed, no inappropriate shit, right
Her mother cried when she answered
Said she don’t know what got inside this child’s mind, she planted
A box of condoms on her dresser then she Instagrammed it

Forget about cutting off your nose to spite your face, “Daughters” cuts off his face to spite his face. Mind you, his daughter isn’t a seven year old who won’t quite grasp what her dad is rapping about or a grown-ass 27 year old who could deal with it, but a 17 year old girl — a person at the age where something like this has the best chance of having a negative impact on her life. Oh, and how do I know she’s a 17 year old girl? He leads the video with her f*cking birthday!

I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised by the cognitive dissonance Nas’ exhibited when creating this song and the accompanying video. It’s typical Nas (shit, it’s typical “rapper”) and, with all this being said, I do definitely appreciate the idea, effort, and (presumed) intent behind “Daughters.” As far as “rappers rapping about their kids” goes, it’s not in the same league as “Retrospect for Life,” but I do think it has a bit of a chance to eventually become (slightly) less annoying with repeated listens.

But, while I forgave Nas for “Braveheart Party,” “Nastradamus,” and “You Owe Me,” I don’t know if I can forgive him doing the ultimate disservice — making me agree with Carmen Bryan. 

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

On Saturday, June 2, 2012, we’ve got another edition of REMINSCE at Liv Nightclub coming up! Except this time, we’re gonna be celebrating Panama’s birthday! Please come out and hang the VSB team. Plus, it’s free before 11pm w/RSVP (reminiscedc.eventbrite.com) and $10 after. AND there’s an open bar from 930-10:30 WITH NO DRESS CODE. You can come in shorts because it gets HOT in there.