MMP: 8 Years Strong (Day 3)

This is the Tequila Talking:

I don't know what I was thinking when I chose the sequence of these numbers...

I've refrained from talking about rappers, but I will throw this in as a positive note. In a recent conversation with DJ Divine1 and my good friends, the Wright Brothers (Charles & Dwight) we listed our Top 5. We listed albums and hottest current (excluding super veteran/legenday) rappers. I finished my rapper list, but not my albums list, for two reasons. I've said it on Twitter and I'll say it now: (Majority vote decided that day) The Documentary is more a classic (and generally harder) Hip Hop album than Good Kid, Maad City could ever be. I'm not even the biggest fan of The Game or "Street Gang" Culture but that shit was the truth. Maybe I'll write a blog on why and when that day comes, I'll entertain a debate. The point here is that I didn't finish my album list because we decided to watch the DVD that came with the deluxe edition (Reason #1). Reason #2: I got stuck half way through when I realized that (A) it is a much tougher list to make and (B) I wanted to include (non - Hip Hop) albums. When I get how I feel about all that together, it can be another subject for a blog. But for today, in no specific order...

• Curren$y
• Rick Ross
• Wiz Khalifa
• Jeezy (I originally said Kanye, but promoted him)

...and I gave Drake props, to be split with Lil' Wayne (almost like a GRAMMY song with a feature). I consider Lil' Wayne a legend on his own, and I'm certain Drake will not be able to consistently fill that role. Big Sean unanimously won the 6th Man Award. I've thought about it sense and even felt that if I need someone who can play the post, I'll call in 2 Chainz. Yet I still feel like I'm looking for a star player to round out the line up. As my own man and a MC, that's a beautiful thing.

I'm proud to announce that we are in the final 3 stages of producing the follow up to the very slept on Grams mixtape: Seconds. It's obviously a play on words and sequence who's meaning will be explained via the music & lyrics, as has become the custom. I feel like the backstory of Grams should be told. Actually, there is a blank draft, untouched since October 2013, that is designated for that purpose. I also feel the lyrics from Grams should be posted to RapGenius, even If I'm the only person who reads (let alone decodes) them. I'll get right on that. 3 Days left of breaking these bad habits. We've got planned work and a lot of ideas, so no more stalling. I feel like I can't make music announcements without mentioning the single "OMG (Just Look At What We've Done)". We're hoping to give it a B-Side, "Gator Bait" being the probable choice.

(These are the kind of insights into plans and marketing I'd never write sober.)

I had grand plans when I sat here, but I got 6 hours until work and I haven't been to bed since yesterday. Plus, that feels like I've said enough.

- Frawgy

Day 14

Morning Thoughts by Gil Scott Heron is the song I use for my alarm. Today I set it for 6:45am... an ambitious attempt at proactivity, as this is my day off from my (meagerly) paying job. I don't mind it. I'm not a slave to sleep. I usually wake up before 8 (by 9 at the latest) and dive head first into These Tweets before I hit the streets. This is me redirecting that energy.

...and "No, I haven't figured this shit out yet."

Ma Frog (My Mother) hit me with a sermon about everything that's wrong with my life at 1AM. It was timely and convenient, as this is also when I was about to sleep. She'll argue I was scrolling Instagram, but she knows nothing of my process. Mothers have a way to show you the complex factors that lie in what you think is so simple. Because quite simply, I'm broke. Being broke makes me feel trapped. Being trapped makes me feel unhappy. This time last year, I thought I was broke. While I was living check-to-check, I was far from broke or trapped. Good God, what a rude awakening. I suppose that'll be a good subject for today: the levels of poverty (as I see it) & financial intelligence.

I'll take this moment to thank "whatever GOD may be" for my ability to find sustenance. Sustanance meaning "a job when I need one." But I've had jobs since I was 13 years-old. At one point in College, I had 3 at one time (technically, one was off the books) and I always seemed to find favorable employment. That is, it was an impressive position that paid decently. I will not say that "favor" has alluded me for a uncertain period of time, because I had favor at RadioShack until Joseph Blythe showed up to be District Manager. Once again, we're talking about roughly a year ago. Moreover, I feel like I have favor in my current position at Home Depot.

(Every time I mention where I work, I recall Phife's rhyme about his homeboy Steven on Midnight Marauders and wonder what department he worked in.) I digress... I was supposed to be talking about how I feel about fiscal intelligence, huh?

There are things that I want to do: both for and with money, that I need money to do. For those not familiar with business, the term is "Capital". Capital gives to the capacity to operate. It's funny how your mind works when you are an entreprenuer. When you can not operate, you think of a million things you could do to get yourself operational. The figure that plagues my mind is $13,000. I could winterize my studio, set up manufacturing, a distribution network, maybe even finagle a TV slot. Hustler that I am, I could also stretch that money into starting a landscaping service or something like that... (because enough paper is never enough paper).

"Levels of Poverty", right? Let me be clear: I've never ascribed to an impoverished mindstate, and I've seen days where I paid for everything with coins. I think what makes me feel "poor" is that I don't see how I can bridge where I am with where I want to be, career-wise. What makes this troubling is that I'm officially less than half a year from age 30. However, I don't have nearly the anxiety about it that some people I know do, and that in itself is reassuring. While others panic, I sit back and plan it.

Even in writing this, I feel like I'm giving to inaction. In the parts of her sermon that stuck, she said that I'm running from my destiny in a Jonah-esque fashion. I'm sure she would like to see me attend church more (which isn't something I plan to do), but even within that I can see where she has a point. Often I feel like I have way too much fabric, the wedding deadline is swiftly approaching and I have yet to even see the bride. What are her measurements? What are her favorite colors? Will she even love me?

Faith is knowing that GOD said she'll be here soon and that I need to be ready. Faith is trusting that GOD is not a man that he should lie. Ma insists that I know my task list, but I have not been trusting of GOD. Would I trust someone who doesn't trust me? Shit no.

It's true. I do know my task list, and it's so much more complex than "write 24 bars today", "dig in that crate", or "edit this video" that I stress myself into a paralytic combination of anxiety and procrastination. The anxiety causes me to look to the hills for my help, and I get bitter about the W in "So We All May Prosper", and I question my own mantra. Questioning your mantra will make you feel like your life is a lie, and that's never a good place to be.

I think it feels more complex because, hustler that I am, that $13,000 is salacious. It would seem I have an expansive vocabulary, but often I just "kinda know" what a word means. (Side-Note: This has been brought to you by "Holding Back The Years" Radio via iTunes, and "Faith" by George Michael just came on. I can't make this shit up). Anyways, when I looked up salacious, as not to make an ass of myself by assuming, I found it's defining trait was LUST. Trust, that $13,000 has appealed to my lower self. Meaning, I would do things to get it that I wouldn't even think about if I had it.

I've seen (that is, taken note of) a lot of memes centering around the ideal of "Give It To God". In writing this, I realize that while the task list is fully in my control, worrying about the figure of my bride is asinine. Faith is knowing she'll be on time, then working feverishly towards being prepared.

I think that's good for today. 

Day 15

Blogger is flawed in it's "save to drafts" method.  Might have to write these joints in Google Drive, then hit that "copy/paste". Then again, I haven't lost anything too substantial, as I still don't know what I'm writing here. I figured that if I keep on it in this "Habit Breaking" period, that I'll be able to weed out the garden and prepare the soil whilst deciding on the right crops, so to speak.

Michael Jackson? The New Jeezy album? Get On Up! or Dawn of the Planet of The Apes? All good subjects I could expound upon, but I'm not a cultural or media critic (by trade), nor do I aspire to be. That would require time spent reviewing poor quality art, and life is too short for the bullshit. Plus, I watched Amanda Diva crash and burn being lukewarm at both. Why the dig? Follow @ChairmanFrog on Twitter and I'll gladly tell you. ;o)

Day 17

Earlier this week, I was in a cipher and a friend said it takes 21 Days to break a bad habit. I've been in more ciphers since, so that's not the habit for me. However, I have been making a conscious effort to change my outlook and small habits. The first, which I've been adamant to speak about, is the adoption of "Precision of Language". I've mastered it in text, but I also want to translate that into speaking and even thee raps. I have been adverse to blogging and have resisted it, but as I get to writing more songs, I see it is going to be necessary to organize my thoughts. The ultimate reason I'm trying is because not trying hasn't gotten me anywhere. I'm not going to make any Floyd Mayweather jokes,  but I know that somewhere people still like to read.

But what to write?

On the Internet, everyone is an expert on everything! Everyone's got talent, promoting and hustling... AND THEN CAME TWITTER.

...Nigga.

The advent of Twitter into my life poisoned the desire to yammer in long discourse for the faceless ears of The Internet. There's too many people out there for someone to care about you.

But it did not die. In fact, in thrived with the sole desire to subdue @ChairmanFrog (and his 800+ Following) for the profit of "Ted Roe" and Swamp Inc. as a whole. One obstacle I foresee is that I'm used to writing prose as my full government name. At best, just "Theo", or "Theodore" for a lady. In writing this, I realize the urge is to show "the audience" the whole person.  If nothing else, it's practice.

So... What to write?

Poems? Blah.

Random thoughts?

We see how that turned out in the previous blogs. Maybe even this one. A journal format is too personal? Isn't becoming personable the point? Especially for an audience willing to read the mundane thoughts of someone else for entertainment. What if they aren't mundane? What if we give this purpose and direction? There's published video with more to come. This is just a more intimate outlet. 

Current Events?

Here's the thing. Being honest with myself, while I stay up on the current news, especially anything that has to do with the newest show of White Power and Privilege in these United States of America... I just want to get this rap money, propel Swamp Inc and it's Parent Company into the upper millions and then become a serial monogamist.

I said it. Welcome to Thee Roe Show.

Anyways... What to write?

I'm really bored with any idea that I have to be a model black man in society when they will apprehend to murder you for walking down the street and looking wary of their presence. The saddest part of that last sentence is that I don't have to specify that I'm talking about the police or even the KKK at this point. It's a mental disease. They are the patient and we're the are the casualty. Which leads me to two points: Why be afraid to express yourself with the little time you may have to express yourself? I'm a good lyricist, but I'm in the struggle to be an entire MC and Musician. That's takes time that I'm not guaranteed under these conditions.

...and that's HOW I will write.

I named this The Chairman's Log because I felt anyone who cared enough to read it deserved to know. But if you don't write it, how can they read it?

Just pick a subject and attack it. Gator Bites.

Day 17. New Habits.

- Theezus Frog.

The Next Level

I've been in The Word a lot more lately. Mainly because I have an iPhone, and there's an app for that. Secondly, I've heard The Voice. Often and loud. Let me take a step backwards, so you can understand where this is coming from.

I boycotted church in a method to see if "Christ would find me" so to speak Thru this, I've realized the intensely personal nature of spiritual growth, so much that I've gotten into "The Flow" it's a fascinating experience.

Now I know I'm at the next level and I understand what momentum can do for you. I don't have time to question the past, the future is now.

Ventilation

All MC's are extroverts by nature, regardless of the personal missions that lead us to grab the microphone and stand in front of others. At the heart of it all, we just genuinely want to be seen and heard. I overstand my personal mission as a cumulation of my family heritage: Preachers, Civil Rights Activists, Engineers, Community Developers... and I'm the first of direct lineage to be born of the Hip Hop Era. It took some time, but I learned to retroactively connect the dots, as late-great Steve Jobs suggested.

I discovered The Spark inside of me in 8th Grade, reciting the now-classic rhymes of that day and studying The Best of Gil Scott-Heron cassette tape my Father used to ride out to. I played with ideas and fed my mind with Music Industry books (at the behest of My Infamous Mentor). After getting booted from the 1st group I assembled due to "Irreconcilable Differences", the spark had become a small campfire and Ted Roe was christened in my Senior year of High School. There was no Wikipedia at the time, so the process by which I discovered the person and the kindred parallels was truly provided by The Most High. If anything, I have been evolving into the moniker as countless hours pass into days, then weeks, then months, and now 9 long years of seeming inactivity.

In those years, I've wanted nothing more than to make the crowd unanimously respond to my call. Instead: I've loved women, lost the men who preceded and guided me, and completed paths  of educating and medicating myself and others. However, the mission was never sacrificed for life's roller-coaster. Exploiting the opportunities that were provided, I learned about the music industry from the counter of a independent record store, carrying crates and holding mics for my city's best DJs, and then from the boards and back room of a forgotten college radio station. Some time during my second trip to SxSW, surrounded by people I humbly considered career colleagues, I could feel I was in the right place.

After obtaining my Bachelor's  Degree, I realized that my job in Debt Collections was a deviation from the path. Of course, it was necessary to pay rent, but the random thoughts and rhymes I was jotting took on a whole new significance. In our system of Capitalistic Wage Slavery, I understood the the forest fire I'd been feeding with education, love and life experience was Harriet Tubman waiting to manifest herself for me and my loved ones. Ever since that day, I've been trying to find the most efficient way to funnel flammables into Ground Zero.

I wrote this because that is how it all started: writing on my father's typewriter, even predating a working literate vocabulary. I've tried to suppress these thoughts for over a year, and they've only snowballed. They usually bubbled to the top of the cauldron in times of deep depression and frustration. In response, I manned up and covered the pot. First, because bubbling over always causes a mess. Second, I didn't want those hopefuls without recipes to see what I was cooking.

Nonetheless, fire needs oxygen. Art is created to be expressed. I understand that my "bushel-hidden" days are close to behind me. #Grams is 3 features and a mix down away from being on the market. I thank everyone who've given hate, misdirection, spurn, and scorn to the process. Keep blowing on the greased flame.

"This little light of mine..."

The Championship Squad.

Deion Sanders is my favorite football player of all time, hands down. I honestly probably took it for granted. He played for my favorite baseball team, and whatever football team he was on became my favorite. Dallas stuck, since it's the family's team as well. In that era, Primetime was prime example that one player can come from a underestimated position, and have a large impact on the team's ability to win. He was the swing vote between 1994 & 1995's Super Bowl victories.

The musing idea for this piece came as I was playing NBA 2K11. I noticed that they had swapped the "Legends All-Star" squads for the various teams that battled with/against His Airness. A lot of games have had classic teams for current use. Each squad has unique strengths and weaknesses, but the weaknesses went unexploited in their time.

In forming my game plan, I have worked meticulously on exposing any weaknesses, but my heart is such that I want to make others believe, much like His Airness could do. From the outside looking in, it's something that happens with fluidity. However, when team chemistry falters, the collapse (or implosion) is obvious to all. This is where Human Resources come in.

The Front Office is equally responsible for attracting hungry, goal-oriented talent. Many 2nd place teams were more talented, but failed to perceive and prioritize the key objectives needed to secure victory. The General Manager must sniff out the players with morale issues, ego problems, selfish motives and a fear of greatness. Team Chemistry can only exist once everyone understands the common objective is complete victory of the whole.

The team is the corporate entity that carries the  communal goals of the organization with it. Jordan Farmar is (one of a few) D-League talent(s) with a Championship ring. Allen Iverson is (one of many) remarkable talent(s) without one.

"All these Free Agents..." - Young Jeezy