"A thug changes; and love changes..."

13FEB2021; 2245, SAT

The titles of this 54th piece by me were taxed from the end of the last verse of the living legend, NaS's highly favored initial cut, "The Message", on his classic sophomore album, It Was Written ('96). I figured what better way to begin a post about the BFF I had since well before I was assigned to Echo 2/54 INF (Infantry); and for about a decade or so afterwards?

While I def don't remember the 5 W's nor the 1 H (Who, What, When, Where, Why, & How), in regards to the original cliquing up of us two, I have little to no doubt that the former Homie has forgotten also. I'm pretty sure that it was either in the summer or fall of '02; shortly after my fam and I moved into my childhood home in a neighborhood that we shared for about a decade or so.

Another random factoid: I most certainly wouldn't be the audiophile, seducer, nor b-ball (basketball) fan that I am today were it not for that fundamental bond over those most formative of years. Granted, I will likely never be the "triple threat" that he is/was in those respects!

Speaking of "the magic number" tho, it'd certainly be ideal to recoup some of the three racks ($3k) or so that I loaned him over the course of the substantial friendship. Hell, I'd be happy to see the three meatballs ($300) that my folks are owed by the Brotha Man right about now.

Another armchair quarterback realization: We most certainly could've focused more on sharpening our minds and getting ends (money) together rather than the ridiculous amount of time that we spent on video games and chasing skirts. Now that I have Little Princesses of my own, I can't help but wonder and contemplate on how to keep them from young men who would gladly play fast and loose with their hearts as me and Home Skillet used to do.

In respect to that last colloquialism, I'll likely remember our random hikes up the street from his childhood home to our fav chicken spot, Golden Skillet, for quite some time. In a similar vein, to say that the late night "missions" for tacos and whatnot were pretty wild would be a detrimental understatement.

To double back to the three stacks and our shared love of music for a New York minute: I'll forever be grateful to the Brotha for getting me hip to André 3000; Noname; J. Cole; and Kendrick Lamar among a myriad of other extremely phenomenal music artists that Bruh Bruh introduced me to. Of course, I hope and pray that he's not "protesting" against the artists that I got him acquainted with off the strength that they remind his undeniably handsome self of my rather ugly self.

Considering that the last rumination put me at almost exactly 420 words (at least on the rough draft), and the fact that my Born Day is 4/20, I can't help but reminisce on the wild parties and kickbacks that we threw with each other; especially on bdays and such. I actually copped that young man an expensive power tool one year not long after he did the same for my young and dumb self also; nevermind the tee shirts and such that we exchanged with each other.

We had our own handshake at one point, and we definitely made our fair share of road trips together. From the slavery museum in Philly, to the ball drop in The Big Apple (NYC), to the fastest roller coaster in America when we trekked to the heart of "flyover country" one time that I was home on leave from the military.

Back to music: Other artists that I feasibly wouldn't stan for without this former friendship include Oddisee; Bonobo; Andreya Triana; and Floetry. Last mention of the musical artists: Lauryn Hill; Common; A Tribe Called Quest; and Logic.

Random: I'm pretty sure that I mentioned it in a previous post already, but I'll likely never let go of the laughs we shared when a one-off driver ran the light we were posted up at so smoothly that we figured we might could be in the wrong for waiting on it to turn green. Good times.

While I don't particularly foresee me and my former brother ever becoming quite so close again, if we ever reconcile at all, I will carry the many lessons for a lifetime, as the adage goes. If you're reading this: Sincerest apologies for the miscommunication, Famo; and stay blessed/free.