Tag Archives: pittsburgh

How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love Gentrification

Posted on by
455

If you were to leave my house, make a right turn, and drive a half mile down Penn Avenue, you’d pass Bakery Square — a 150 million dollar redevelopment project that became open for business a year ago and houses (among other things) a 115,000 square foot Google office, Anthropologie, the Urban Active Fitness Club I now belong to, the Coffee Tree Roasters where I’m writing this entry, and the nearby Marriott that I’m stealing wi-fi from because the Coffee Tree connection gives you a two hour time limit.

If you drove 300 feet further and looked to your right, you’d see a Trader Joe’s and a shop that does repairs for custom bicycles that cost somewhere between “obscene” and “the approximate price of my life.” On the left hand side you’d pass a doomed shopping complex that houses a liquor store, the nastiest dollar store that’s ever existed, a Weave Mart, and a predictably hood supermarket my parents affectionately coined “BeBe’s Giant Eagle.”

Drive another 200 feet and you’ll run right into a spanking new Target. Behind this Target is a mix of $200,000 lofts and Section 8 housing. My barbershop is within a two block radius, as is Rent-N-Roll — a place where you can put 26′s on layaway (No, seriously. If you don’t believe me, go to their website) — Whole Foods, Rainbow, The Kelly-Strayhorn theater, and a homeless shelter/soup kitchen.

Also, if you were to look on a map, the name of this section of Pittsburgh would be “East Liberty.” But, if you happened to look at all of the recent signs and advertisements promoting this area, the name somehow morphs into “Eastside.”

This all makes me a living and breathing solider on the country’s most important battlefield — a high stakes war where instead of machine guns and Humvees, the enemy is armed with Sperry Top-Siders and $13 cupcakes. Yes, my friends, I’m a first-hand witness to the world’s most retched 14 letter word: Gentrification.

Now, this is where you’re probably expecting me to talk about how jarring is it to see a community I grew up in undergo such change. Included would probably be a passionate treatise about black people being displaced and black businesses getting priced out. I’d might even quote a passage from “The Bluest Eye” and cite something written by Sister T. But, since I’ve obviously taken advantage of the many perks the gentrification has brought with it, you’re probably expecting me to end this piece with a paragraph or two describing my ambivalence towards the entire situation and a bit of genuine reflection about the guilt I feel for not leading the “reverse the redevelopment” movement

This is (partially) true. I am aware that these things are going on, and I am definitely ambivalent. But, I’m actually ambivalent about my complete and utter lack of ambivalence.

Basically, I really don’t give a f*ck about any of the gentrification negatives I’m “supposed” to care about, and I’m (kind of) worried that I’m supposed to¹.

I know I should care that many people who look like me are being forced out of this community. In fact, I actually want to care more. I want to feel like sh*t whenever I choose to get my produce at Whole Foods instead of BeBe’s Giant Eagle. I want to want to protest whenever I leave my barbershop and have to sidestep the pale-thighed joggers hoarding the sidewalk. I want to want to run up and kick the motherf*cker who’s walking his dog at night in a neighborhood where you couldn’t even wear red t-shirts 15 years ago.

I wonder if something’s wrong with me. I’m convinced that I’m supposed to be concerned, that I’m supposed to feel a perpetual uneasiness about the change going on in the “Eastside”; this gotdamn gentrification. Sh*t, I even hoped that writing this would induce at least a little bit of worry.

It hasn’t. I still really don’t give a f*ck, and it’s likely that I won’t find a f*ck to give any time soon.

Actually, you know what? Nevermind that. I’m going to go for a nighttime jog around the neighborhood with my girlfriend in a couple minutes². Afterwards, we’ll probably walk to BRBG and get some adult milkshakes. We might stop at Bakery Square and watch a Jazz show on the way back. There’s a chance we might see some of our friends there, and we’ll probably have a pretty good time.

Anyway, maybe I’ll find a f*ck to give when I make it back home.

¹The whole “I don’t give a f*ck” premise contains some hyperbole. I do care. I just don’t care nearly as much as I think I’m supposed to.

²I’m lying. I don’t do jogging. I will walk briskly, though.

—The Champ

5 Signs That You’re In An Abusive Relationship

Posted on by
576

“Black Johnny” — the Vietnam vet who used to sell bun-less hot dogs and green olives at halftime of Connie Hawkins Summer League basketball games — once t0ld me that some people “float to trouble like fried chicken crumbs to seat cushions.” Although I’m still not completely sure what Black Johnny meant — and I’m still not completely sure why we all called this high-yellow n*gga “Black Johnny.” I guess we were all just being really ironic – I can’t think of another person who better personifies this completely ridiculous and completely sensible home-spun saying than Miami Dolphins wide receiver Brandon Marshall.

Marshall, a perennial all-pro and native Pittsburgher (We can definitely breed em. What exactly are we breeding? I have no f*cking clue), has 515 words on his Wiki page devoted to accounts of his various arrests and run-ins with the law, so I wasn’t the least bit surprised when hearing that he had been stabbed in the gut by his wife last weekend.

From CNN

The wife of Miami Dolphins star receiver Brandon Marshall has been charged with stabbing him in the abdomen with a kitchen knife during a domestic violence incident, according to a report from the Broward County, Florida, sheriff’s office.

Michi Nogami-Marshall, 26, was charged Friday evening with aggravated battery with a deadly weapon, which allegedly occurred in their Southwest Ranches, Florida, home, according to the sheriff’s report.

The couple, who have no children, have been married one year and have been involved for 2 1/2 years, the sheriff’s report said.

Brandon Marshall, 27, told police that he “slipped and fell onto a broken glass vase,” the report said.

“However, the area of where the vase was broken indicated no blood within the immediate area to substantiate his claim,” the report said.

His wife then told police that she stabbed her husband “out of self-defense,” the report said.

“Both the victim and the defendant provided scant information regarding the incident itself,” the sheriff’s report said.

Now, I could be wrong, but after a quick scan of this article and Marshall’s Wiki page, my gut is telling me that Marshall and Nogami-Marshall are in a mutually abusive relationship.

Why definitely? Well, the numerous domestic disputes are a big giveaway. What really gets me, though, is the fact that she stabbed this n*gga in the stomach with a kitchen knife! You know where else they stab people in the stomach with non-lethal weapons? Prison. Basically, he got prison-shanked in his own house by his own wife.

But, not all abusive relationships give this type of conspicuous proof, and here’s 5 somewhat subtle signs that you just might be in one.

1. No one ever invites you anywhere as a couple

While the whole Rihanna/Chris Brown thing might be a regular and even mundane occurrence for you and your beau, no one wants to be the couple sitting in the same Cheesecake Factory booth of the couple who’s throwing ice cubes, pinky rings, and two-sided brushes at each other.

2. You’re not having sex

Look, I understand that couples occasionally go through droughts. I also understand that some of these droughts may be health related. But, if you’re two healthy people with a normal sexual appetite, a prolonged drought usually means one of two things:

A) Someone did some foul-ass sh*t, and the other is justifiably pissed

B) Someone did something that wasn’t really all that bad at all, and the other is an emotional terrorist withholding the coital ransom

Ok, forget about whether that “coital ransom” analogy made any sense (it didn’t). The main point is that whenever sex is intentionally withheld for a long period of time, it’s usually accompanied either by some type of mental, emotional, or physical abuse or someone found out that someone’s a Laker fan.

3. Your last relationship was abusive

For whatever reason, it seems like people who just got out of seriously abusive relationships need to be in relationships that are progressively less abusive, but still abusive, before they’re ready to be in one completely devoid of it. It’s almost as if they’re going from crack (Ike Turner) to methadone (Jim Brown) to cigarettes (Nas) to cupcakes (Peter the Apostle).

4. You’re always on eggshells

I’ve been here before, where I spent so much time living on “Wait, is the mention of this perfectly normal sexual act going to make her cry again?” and “If this Kool-Aid is too sweet, will she burn another one of my sneakers at dawn?” eggshells that I might as well changed my name to Salmonella. Don’t fret for me, though. Served me right for dating that damn Delta.

5. You find yourself being preemptively abusive

Truly abusive relationships sometimes end up morphing into a version of Stockholm Syndrome, where instead of turning into a martyr, you adapt to the conditions created by your emotional terrorist and you even start becoming exactly like them. You manipulate before you have the opportunity to be manipulated, kick before you have the chance to get kicked, disrespect in the sack before you have the chance to be disrespected.

Before you know it, you’ve become the Steven Seagal to their “lead smirking henchman in black,” and your entire life is one big clusterf*ck circle jerk of broken limbs, bed dred, police reports, and cold semen in your eye. 

Anyway, people of VSB.com, did I forget anything? Can you think of any more signs that a person might be in an abusive relationship? Also, although men get the bulk of the abuser blame, do you think there’s any truth to the idea that women are frequently just as (if not more) abusive?

The carpet is yours.

—The Champ

If you haven’t purchased the paperback or the $9.99 Kindle version of “Your Degrees Wont Keep You Warm at Night: The Very Smart Brothas Guide to Dating, Mating, and Fighting Crime” yet, what the hell is stopping you? (No, seriously. Tell us and we’ll send Liz to fix it)

Three Possible Reasons Why Online Dating’s Just Not That Into Black People

Posted on by
489

While a tad disappointing, I can’t say that I was surprised after reading “Love Isn’t Color-Blind: White Online Daters Spurn Blacks” — the Time Magazine piece showing that African-Americans are the redheaded stepchildren of online dating. Based on a study from researchers at The University of California (Berkeley), this article merely reiterated what numerous sources — OKCupid’s “How Race Affects The Messages You Get” for example — have already stated: it just seems like online dating’s just not that into black people.

But, while this phenomenon has inundated us with “Who” and “What” (and a latent sense of “black people just aren’t as attractive as others”-ness), I’m more curious about the “Why,” and I thought of three possible reasons.

1. Black people are just not that into online dating, either

Although the aughts brought with them a beginning to the end of the black community’s ongoing (and silly) tabooization of many dating practices (ie: white male/black female romantic couplings), the stigma attached to online dating remains intact.

Despite our increasingly lascivious love affair with Facebook and Twitter —  and the time we waste, er, spend cultivating that romance – a black person publicly admitting they actually sought out and met a potential romantic partner on the internet is akin to, well, a black person publicly admitting they actually sought out and met a potential romantic partner on the internet. While it’s generally considered to be “cool” if you happened to meet and date someone you happened to first meet online, nothing’s analogous to the level of simultaneous condescension and “wheredeydothatat-ness” admitting you joined a dating site usually receives.

I experienced this first hand a couple weeks ago while talking to Ms. Solomon of The Dating Truth and a few other single sistas at an open mic event. They were musing about the myriad dating difficulties present for black women in Pittsburgh, and when I suggested that online dating might be a reasonable and practical option, they each looked at me as if I suggested they start dating vegan midget pedophiles.

Quoting Ms. Solomon

“You’re not going to find hot guys on dating sites. Why? Cause hot guys are out living life, not sitting at some screen and hoping that some woman is going to think it’s cute that his profile says he likes dogs and Italian food.”

I realize this is anecdotal evidence, and I also realize other races/cultures may hold similar stigmas, but within our community, the mindset exhibited by Ms. Soloman tends to be the rule, not the exception.

Our general reluctance to embrace this part of 21st century life surely affects our success rate when we finally do, a fact leading to…

2.  It’s not about online dating just not being that into black people much as it’s online dating just not being that into the type of black person who’d make this decision

Both the OKCupid and the UC Berkley studies cited data showing that blacks were much more interested in meeting others than vice versa.

From the Berkley study:

“Those who said they were indifferent to the race of a partner were most likely to be young, male and black,” said Gerald Mendelsohn, a UC Berkeley psychologist, professor of graduate studies and lead author of the study, which will soon be submitted for publication.

Overall, he said, “Whites more than blacks, women more than men and old more than young participants stated a preference for a partner of the same race,”

The reluctance of whites to contact blacks was true even for those who claimed they were indifferent to race.  More than 80 percent of the whites contacted whites and fewer than 5 percent of them contacted blacks, a disparity that held for young as well as for older participants.

OKCupid even showed that we’re less interested in meeting each other than we are with meeting others:

Men don’t write black women back. Or rather, they write them back far less often than they should. Black women reply the most, yet get by far the fewest replies. Essentially every race—including other blacks—singles them out for the cold shoulder.

While this can (and has) been interpreted as proof of a general lack of physical/sexual attraction for black people (and black women in particular), I don’t share that self-defeatist opinion.

Instead I’d argue that — because of our previously cited reluctance to de-stigmatize online dating — the black people who do embrace online dating are probably more likely to embrace it out of desperation, a last option, a final “I need to find someone by any means necessary!!!” salvo. While exceptions definitely exist, people at the end of their dating ropes usually tend to be (thinking of the least offensive way to say this possible) less desirable than those who aren’t, and it’s no surprise that they would encounter some of the same difficulties online they’d usually face while dating traditionally.

Basically, just like pretty girl problems…only the exact opposite.

3. The type of people (black and other) interested in virtual dating and in actually meeting black people might not be found on the sites cited by these studies

Five days from now, approximately 250 to 400 very smart people will descend on Washington D.C. to attend VSB Lounge, Episode 1: Three Deez — an event created, sponsored, promoted, and organized by a website that each of these 250 to 400 very smart people frequent. Books will be signed, Patron shots will be passed, and babies will be conceived in parking lots and bathroom stalls.

And, while the majority of the people planning to attend are probably just hoping to have a good time, the singles in attendance — many of whom would scoff at the idea of joining a dating site — probably wouldn’t mind if they happened to meet a potential mate while there.

My point?

Well, between VSB, high traffic message boards like Okayplayer.com, and even smaller blogs and Facebook groups, there are myriad venues available for black people interested in meeting potential romantic partners; venues that usually don’t require fees and also provide a sense of community, making the virtual approach less stressful and unnerving. These people don’t usually frequent these sites just to troll for mates, but the commonalities present in the community makes them more likely to entertain the possibility of finding a partner.

Also, since OKCupid pulled from their own data and only “major” dating sites were cited by the Cal Berkeley study, both ignore the thousands of black people belonging to sites such as Black Singles and Black People Meet.

Lastly, while the OKCupid study did show that black women were less likely to get contacted than any other race, I’d argue that the type of black person (man or woman) who’s already lukewarm about intra-racial dating is probably more likely to join a site like OkCupid. It’s not that black males who date virtually aren’t into black women, it’s that the black men who are interested in sistas can probably be found somewhere else. I’d imagine that if you asked black men in Irish pubs in Boston and black men in Baltimore IHOPs to share their thoughts about black women, the results might be a little different.

When you add these factors together, you can make the case that it’s not so much “the concept of online dating’s usually just not that into black people” but “predominately white dating websites usually just aren’t that into black people” – still not surprising, but much less disappointing and pessimistic.

Anyway, people of VSB.com, I’m curious: How do you feel about online dating? Would you consider joining a dating site or physically meeting a person you grew fond of on a site like VSB?

Also, can you think of any other reasons why this taboo exists?

The carpet is yours.

—The Champ

Black Card Denied: Stereotypically “Black” Things You’re Just Not That Into

Posted on by
634

“You’ve never rocked a doo-rag before? Ever?”

This question came about yesterday as a friend and I were having a nuanced discussion about the peculiarity surrounding the idea of blackness. Wait, that’s a lie. We were actually talking about something called a “Dr. Laura Schlessinger“, and the conversation somehow segued to an analysis of women with mustaches (and which occupations they’re most likely to have), morphed to a debate about old men with baby hair, and finally landed on Cheese from”The Wire”. (don’t ask)

As any fan of “The Wire” will tell you, Cheese–a mid-level East Baltimore drug dealer played by Method Man–was perpetually doo-ragged up. In fact, I don’t think there was a single moment in five seasons where Cheese appeared without a doo-rag or hoodie on his head.  Anyway, while discussing Cheese’s contribution to the show, my friend made a reference to the acne a loose do0-rag can cause (for the laymen: if you leave the strings hanging down, they can irritate your skin), and that it would be difficult to be taken seriously if you were a drug dealer with adult acne. My reply:

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never attempted to sell drugs in East Baltimore, and I’ve never rocked a doo-rag”

“What? I don’t believe you”

“You’ve known me for 10 years. When have you ever seen me attempt to sell drugs in East Baltimore?”

“I’m talking about the doo-rag, d*ckhead. You’ve never rocked a doo-rag before? Ever?”

“Nope”

“You sure you’re black, right?”

“No, but my d*ck is definitely black. Ask your wife”

“You might not be black, but you’re definitely gay”

Gayness aside, I was telling the truth. I’ve never rocked a doo-rag or stocking cap before, but for good reason(s)

A) Due to one of my great, great, great Native American second cousins, I was able to get waves without having to wear one.

B) Because of my head size/shape insecurities as a youth, I (rightly) assumed that wearing one would make my head look like a condom.

Anyway, this conversation made me think of a few more stereotypically “black” things I’ve just never really been that into, parts of standard American blackness I’ve never experienced, and other things that might jeopardize my black card membership if word ever got back to the committee.

I’ve never seen Love Jones, Love and Basketball, The Golden Child, The Last Dragon, The Wood, Booty Call, Hav Plenty, and anything Tyler Perry. I finally watched The Color Purple for the first time two years ago, and I’m close to 122% certain I won’t be watching Precious any time in the pre-apocalyptic future.

My reasons for not seeing any of these movies vary from “it just doesn’t look any good” (The Golden Child) to “He’s 5’6 in heels. How the hell am I supposed to believe he’s a great basketball player?” (Love and Basketball)

I’ve never been to Atlanta

Although, thanks to YouTube (NSFW!), I have been to Strokers numerous times.

None of my friends in Pittsburgh have any kids

Wait, let me rephrase that. None of my friends in Pittsburgh have any kids they know of.

Seriously though, I realize some people might find this–there are entire crews of childless, 25 to 35 year old black people floating around–hard to believe, but it’s true. I actually have a theory about how black people with kids and black people without kids usually travel in completely separate social circles, and I’d expound upon it if I actually gave a damn.

I always hated Good Times

The entire premise was depressing, none of the jokes were funny, and I could never make the Bob Beamon-esque leap that John Amos and Esther Rolle would have been able to overlook the 932 year age gap between them to form a loving couple. 900 years? Maybe. But, not 932. That’s just pushing it.

I’ve never purchased an R&B album

Unless, of course, you include Ghostdini the Wizard of Poetry.

I grew up in Southwestern Pennsylvania, went to a predominately white college, played a sport, and only slept with one white woman

And, to be perfectly honest, she was somewhat thick before it was cool for snizzles to be thick–her nickname was “Jabba The Butt“– so she didn’t really count.

I haven’t worn a pair of sunglasses in at least a decade

I’m including this even though I’m not exactly sure how “black” sunglasses really are. Basically, sunglasses are exactly like Rashida Jones in “Parks and Recreation”

I’ve never drank an entire 40

Honestly, I’ve never understood how people can do this. I mean, I can’t even drink 40 ounces of water in one sitting, so how the hell do people drink 40 ounces of beer? Are beer drinkers born with extra stomachs? Is the beer in 40s like cotton candy where it evaporates as soon as it hits your mouth? Is there a prize at the bottom of a 40 bottle? Like, is there a pocket-sized Kenya Moore waiting at the bottom of the bottle for you to rescue her from her foamy hell? Someone (preferably someone from south central Los Angeles) please explain this to me.

I’ve never shot dice

But, unfortunately…

My house has been shot at…

…which basically makes up for everything else on the list.

Okay, that’s enough from me. VSB.com, can you name any stereotypically black things you’ve never experienced, parts of universally accepted black culture you’re really just not that into?

The floor is yours.

—The Champ aka No Alias (because aliases are a bit too black to)

5 universal dating truths

Posted on by
388

at thursday’s the dating truth live, i moderated a panel where 6 of the pittsburgh area’s most engaging young professionals spoke about dating, relationships, and sex.

***as you can see, i’ve linked to a partial video of the event. because of the camera angle, you can’t really see much of me. well, lemme rephase that. you can’t really see much of me, except for my obnoxious-ass hands. gotdamn, lol. people have always told me that i speak with my hands, but i never realized exactly how aggressive they were until watching this video. it almost looks like i’m doing an impersonation of kevin hart doing an impersonation of a rapper. i probably should have just slipped a “real talk! i kill pittsburgh panel n*ggas!” in there for good measure.***

sometime during the night, one of the panelists (i forget who) remarked “the only dating truth is that there are no dating truths. we all just need to find our own way“, a statement that received a good 10 seconds of applause from everyone in attendance (including me), and it wasn’t until the next day that i realized how wrong that comment was. if experience has taught me anything, it’s that there are a few universal dating truths that are applicable to everyone and every situation, even if we don’t want to believe it.

here’s 5 of them.

1. catching (and keeping) feelings is a choice

we’ve all heard this story before:

after 6 months of bullsh*t convos over mediocre meals and half-assed bi-weekly sex, boy and girl kind of call it quits through a series of passive-aggressive text messages. boy moves on, but girl remains intent on holding onto one-ply thread of reconcilatory hope, stating that she “can’t help that she likes him so much, and wishes that she didn’t” while crying on shoulder of loyal (and cuckolded) “platonic” male confidant. dry-dicked platonic male confidant starts to mimic the unaffected behavior of boy, thinking that it will give him more sexual success, but not realizing that said behavior only works if women are trying not to like you. everybody eventually dies.

regardless of how attracted to someone we might be, we all have a little line in our head that basically says “ok. cross this point, and you’re going to start liking this person. don’t cross this point, and you won’t“. when you catch feelings, it’s not because some uncontrollable galatical force compels you to see grandkids in your future. no, you make the conscious mental and emotional decision to start liking them. and, when a person says that they can’t stop liking someone, what they’re really saying is “i don’t want to completely stop liking this person yet, because a part of me still thinks there’s a chance this might somehow work”

2. don’t do intimate sh*t with people you don’t want to f*ck, because you just might end up f*cking

***not to be confused with “don’t go to a buffet if you’re not hungry, cause you just might end up eating something” and “don’t date a mexican if you hate kids, cause she just might end up pregnant“***

3. nobody cares about you and your bullsh*t

the woman you’re out with tonight doesn’t care that the only reason you threw a spoon at the waiter is because you have anger and intimacy issues stemming from the weekends your dad used to make you wrestle baby deer on film. no, she just thinks you’re a creepy weirdo, and now her focus is on finding a way to walk out without having your creepy jame gumb acting ass follow her to the parking lot.

everybody has issues, and nobody gives a damn about yours. either deal with them and date, or don’t deal with them and stay home and put fawns in the figure four.

4. attractive people attract people

with this in mind, if you’re single and looking, it’s not the worst idea in the world to make the attempt to look attractive. like it or not, you’re in indirect competition with every other person on the market, so it’s in your best interests to compete.

get a haircut. shave (everywhere). brush your teeth. smell good. buy new clothes. work out. save the two year old hoop sneaks and FUBU basketball shorts for hooping, and save the mom jeans and the ridiculously unenthused hair for the saturday afternoon meredith baxter-birney marathon, not the club

5. some people won’t like you…and that’s ok.

regardless of how fabulous and unique you think you are, there are going to be some people who can’t stand the sight of you. sometimes you might even be attracted to these people, but you repulse them so much that they’d dry heave if they knew you were attracted to them. they’d rather f*ck a ceiling fan than throw a lay your way. to them, the only way your sh*t would stink worse is if it came out looking like you.

so, what do to? well, f*ck em. life is too short to dwell on who doesn’t like you and why they don’t. plus, you don’t like everybody, so why the hell would you expect that everybody is going to like your happy ass? brush your communist-ass shoulders off and do you.

people of vsb.com, did i forget anything? can you think of any other universal dating truths?

also (beside louie c.k. and patrice o’neal. wait, i gotta include bill burr in there as well), is there another stand-up act as consistently funny as kevin hart’s today?

—the champ