Quick Review of 2011

2011 was a great year in Will Wash history.  God truly favors me and my friends and family.

• The homey and my brother both gave birth to baby girls.  I love them both.
  
  
  
  
  
• Celebrated my birthday and my little cousins turning 21 in Las Vegas.
• Got to sit on the edge of the Grand Canyon.
  
• Cousin Lisa from Germany came to visit and I got to show her the east coast.
• Me and the boys put on great fireworks show on the 4th of July
• Niece Sydney, godson CJ, and Lil Nigel have grown exponentially.
• I got to travel to Ireland again, and Jamaica for the first time and have grand adventures.
  
• I bought another Mac.
• I started learning to play the bass guitar.
• Changed my tags.
  

Death Smiles at Us All

*Disclaimer* I AM NOT SUICIDAL!!

No secret I’m not afraid of dying and I have always said I wanted to die young.  Shit, through my life I have never ever thought of what my future would be like when I’m older.  That’s just me, I guess.  Not only the Christian in me has me comfortable with dying but just the place my mind is at, I’m ok with what I’m done so far.  I’m not like Pac or BIG predicting my death or anything like that.  But I have thought about what I wanted when I die.

1. If I have not been roasted by the time I die, I give permission to do a comedy roast…as long as it’s in good spirit.  Don’t go bring up some pinned up hatred you was too scared to say when I was alive.  Nothing mean spirited.  You all know I loved to laugh when I was alive and had a healthy sense of humor.
2. If a ceremony is had, make it one to remember.  I’m used to having people tell me of the good times they remember, now give them one more.
3. Finally and most importantly, I want these songs played.  They are the final tracks to the soundtrack to my life.
   
   Cosmic Slop by Funkadelic
   
   I see myself and others close to me in it.  But not literally!  The song is about an impoverished mother with five children who has resorted to prostitution in order to support her family. Although she tries to shield her children from the knowledge that they are poor and she is a prostitute, every night the narrator hears his mother beg God for forgiveness and understanding for doing what she has to do for the sake of her children. As I have said so many times…the world we live in is not in black and white. Also asking for forgiveness for trying to do the right things is a major theme in my life.
   
   Maggot Brain by Funkadelic
   
   This instrumental tugs at your emotions and soul.  And the history of it pulls even more.
   
   
   

   According to legend, George Clinton, under the influence of LSD, told Eddie Hazel to play the first half of the song like his mother had just died and to play the second half as if he had found out she was alive; other variants of the story suggest that he was simply told to play as if he had found his mother dead. The result was the 10-minute guitar solo for which Hazel is most fondly remembered by many music critics and fans. Though several other musicians began the track playing, Clinton soon realized the power of Hazel's solo and faded them out so that the focus would be on Hazel's guitar. Critics have described the solo as "lengthy, mind-melting" and the ending as "an emotional apocalypse of sound."
   
   The entire track was recorded in one take. The solo is played in a pentatonic minor scale in the key of E over another guitar track of a simple arpeggio. Hazel's solo was played through a fuzzbox and a wah pedal; some sections of the song utilize a delay effect. This style would be revisited later in Standing on the Verge of Getting It On on the track "Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts". The original version with full band accompaniment was released in 1997 on the album "Funkadelic Finest".

   
   

The fear of death follows from the fear of life.  A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.  ~Mark Twain

Unkle Wee-am

I have always held the belief I would never have to be in the delivery room during anybody's child birth. My logic is that there are always more supportive and qualified people available than me. So I had the full intentions of being in the waiting room when I went up to the hospital to meet up with Marco, my brother, and Tasha for the birth of their little girl on this past Monday. But no such luck, I had to step up, be the good brother, and participate in the delivery of my first niece. I use the word participate loosely. For some reason the maternity ward was very busy that day. It was a very interesting experience, so I will give some of my impressions. Why did the hospital have the intern giving Tasha shots? Nothing is worst than hearing the newbie say, "I can't find your vein" before beginning to dig in the your arm with needle looking for one. And then missing. I felt so bad for Tasha. He was trying for 5 mins before his supervisor came to see what was taking so long. Now you know the Washington boys, we was on joke time, joning on the rookie. To make it worst, I couldn't understand a word that he was saying. English was like his 5th language. And the his supervisor came in fusing and English wasn't her first language either. I don't know how they understood each other? Man, they can't have intern practicing on already stressed out women. Tasha was acting tough and told the doctor she ain't want the epidural. I was quick to say if it was me, I would get it. But she wanted to be tough until them contractions got close. Change of heart ain't just a TV show. So I go get the nurse to say she changed her mind and the nurse says the doctor is in the middle of another birth but she will tell him. Later the nurse comes back and say it's going to be about an hour before the epidural, the doctor is in the middle of a C section. She checks on Tasha, she's 5 cm. I swear Tasha went from 5 cm to 10 cm in 5 mins. Halfway to walking to the bathroom, Tasha freezes. And pauses for 3 mins we get the nurse and then me and Marco carry Tasha back the bed. The baby was ready. The nurse jumps on the horn calling for the doctor and some back up. The doctor shows up on joke time. Talking about haha you wanted to be tough, too late for drugs now and something about not getting a medal. My brother thought he was funny, I was just like, man do your job. The nurse is constantly calling for help but no nurses are coming. Must be the big C section everyone is at, Tasha is wide open and the doctor yells for help, "Grab her legs." I go, "Marco, he talking to you!" LOL neither of us wanted to see it. The nurse has the left leg. Marco grabs Tasha's right leg breathing hard talking about he about to throw up, making faces. All of the sudden the doctor makes a quick movement and a ton of blood goes flying. He done cut something! And snatched the baby out. I still shutter thinking about it. I TOLD Tasha and Marco that doctor was too loose. They had a healthy baby. 20" 7 lbs 5.8 ounces (Mom said that was my weight at birth, 7 lbs 6 ounces). 10 finger, 10 toes. Full head of hair like Marco was when he was born. We all was trying to see her eyes, because Tasha has green eyes. I'm convinced that the baby has both Marco and Tasha's lips. Tasha's top and Marco's bottom. Juicy lips. Nurse said she had my nose, not sure about that, but it's ok. The process actually was pretty quick and Tasha handled it like a champ. Proud of her. I didn't take the nasty pictures she wanted, through. She wanted pictures and video of everything and I wasn't trying to see all that. Honestly, I planned on being out of the room. But that's my family and I got their back. Welcome Little Miss Sydney Ryan Washington, the new love of my life. And for those people that get pleasure out of the miracle of child birth... Not for the weak of heart. Part 1: Part 2:

Case of the Sundays

Sorry I haven't written in a while, but you can always go back and read the old stuff! Sunday morning, I woke up with a headache way too early. Being a beer pong athlete takes it's toll on the body. But I remember promising to make it to my church for joint worship. And yes, I take ownership of that particular church, it's mine. I don't just go to church, but I go to my church. :-D Anyway, my head was hurting and I was still tired, so I figure I would go back to sleep and hopefully feel better. Well I did try... But I the headache wasn't going anywhere. I slept all the way up to the last minute. And at that point I was faced with the free will at Adam and Eve set us up with. I could stay home, eat, and recover or I could rush to church in hunger and pain. The path of least resistance was calling me hard, I had all my excuses planned out too. But my thought at this moment is that the times that I really really don't want to do something sometimes is the times when I really should do it, especially in cases like this. Not because I made a promise, but because beyond the hunger and pain it is good for me overall. A spiritual healing sleep can t and won't provide. Even though it went an hour over time, it was an awesome service. And guess what? By the end of service my headache was gone. Still hungry, but no headache. Take it how you wanna. Fun Fact: One of the people that was baptized that day share our name. My father lean over and made a remark about it. His name is Henry Washington too, but we never met the guy. I'll talk more about free will later. ...but you might have to remind me.

Dec. 1, 1955: Don't Forget it

Today marks the start of 1955’s Montgomery Bus Boycott. It is hard to believe that is was only 50 years ago when America was treating Black people like shit. It was really not that long ago. It seems like it was ages ago that all the Civil Rights stuff happening. But it was only 50 years ago, Black people were told to move their monkey ass to the back of the bus. Many of the people that lived then are still alive. My father reminded me that when he was a kid he had to fear white boys in pick-up trucks, had to enter the movies through the colored people door, and drink from the colored people only water fountain. The hard question is, have people’s beliefs changed? And how much have they changed? I hope so. I tell you, it feels good to be able ride on the bus and scare white people by sitting beside them. It’s a pleasure. My grandparents fought hard for that right. And the most important right of all is being able to tell anyone, anyone, that asks me to move out of my bus seat to kiss my black ass. Thank you, Rosa Parks. We Love You.

P.S. All you other non-white races need to thank her too, because your ass would be treated like shit too.