I took a ride to bumble f*@# the other day for the *!!!! Natural Hair show !!!!*
I decided to attend because I have an unhealthy affinity towards what I like to describe as ‘Earthy chicks’ Earthy women even.
I dig the cause an all, but I was enraptured more by the idea of being surrounded by hundreds of Earthy Queens in head wraps and dangly earrings and locks curled and twisted into magnificent crowns and dresses wrapped tight around oh so perfect curves and almond eyes with batting eye lids shadowed all coordinated !
Behind every great man stands a mighty Queen and this would be an over dose of mightiness!
So down to collage park I go. An hour or so on our soon to be defunct transportation system.
En route I dug the essential Hendrix with momentary lapses into Zap Mama, a pause for the homeless guy with a particularly engaging sob story beggin for a dollar to help his five aids ridden children and in no time I was aboard the 82 bus heading for the convention center.
I followed some other folks to the building all the while keeping my eyes open for the regal majesty of my dear Queens. Once inside I begin the long walk down a massive hall way confident that paradise was just steps away. I see a room full of lights and music with a commotion outside and was about to step inside when I spied a group of young girls dressed like Vegas harlots. One eyebrow shot up and I began having visions of what these girls were going through. I’d seen it on the daily show, how these girls were dolled up for pageant shows, their usually grotesque mothers squeezing the kids into latex mini skirts and spraying their little bellies with suntan sauce all the while screaming–
” you want to be pretty don’t you!? You want to be pretty don’t you?!” as their children cry and say ” no! No!”
I frown and begin to panic that my shangrilah of beauty has been replaced by screaming little girls forced to do Vegas dance routines in stripper outfits. I begin to have horrific flash backs of fat mothers slamming false teeth into their eight year olds mouths! The thought of Valium and vodka sprang to mind and I decided to turn up the Hendrix in ma head phones and just keep walking….
If this really was hell and Shenk the Overseer showed up, I would just have to deal with him.
To my absolute delight, as I kept a forward stride, I began to see more and more heavenly Afros and when the first true Queen walked towards me, I could not help but bow curtly, my grin so big a bus and a half could fit in it.
Afya Abomu was the first person I knew that I saw, on the phone probably conducting business–gracious over achiever that she is. I ran over to say hello, I get a feeling that if you found yourself on her boat you’d be driving fast down the rapids in no time forgetting that God gave us weekends for beer and television. I don’t think she does the beer and desperate housewives thing, she grinds! But what do you call it when the grind is so normal, such an every day thing that it can no longer be called a grind? She does her thing? She…..excels? She…..kicks ass?
Yes, yes. That’s it. She kicks ass and I wanted a little bit of her ass kick to rub off on me. I shall be checking with my ass kick meter when I get home.
Sorry I didn’t get a photo and our convosation was so short and rudimentary that there’s simply nothing to report.
“I heard its $3 to get In” I told the ticket person, who did not laugh. I paid my $10 and tumbled into a dream where all the women I ever wanted had heard my call and came running…..
Music was filling the air from all directions and thankfully it was so crowded we were all shoulder to shoulder. There were booths set up everywhere selling hair products and accessories, clothing and instructional DVD’s. I began floating around and finally pulled out my camera to catch a few snaps of a childrens double Dutch game.
(which didn’t turn out well enough to post)
I had heard that N’Dambi would be performing at three And showed up thusly at two-forty five. An old problem I’ve been trying to get over all this showing up on time at all. Unfortunately I didn’t ever see her….
Strangely enough there was a guy selling hair at the natural hair show…..not very natural I thought, but he had a good enough audience listening to his pitch.
I meet a dark, slender and gorgeous Queen, her hair updid in a modest yet powerful crown, a nose ring shining her rebellious capabilities.
Well ahm not a writer so I’ll just post this last photo and call it a night.