So the wife and I went to a suburban party this weekend.
It was held in a backyard. Really, really fun. Great food from the nearby Caribbean joint. Tons of drinks. Fun people.
And music.
Todd, one of the hosts, loves his iPad, and especially loves using Pandora on his iPad. He hooked the thing up to his outdoor speakers, and for most of the evening played a nice, smooth mix of Dave Matthews/Coldplay-esque music. Not my preferred taste, but certainly enjoyable.
We were standing in his driveway around, oh, 9:30 pm. Todd said to me, “What would get people to dance?” I threw out a few meek suggestions—Michael Jackson, Motown—and as we approached the IPad he typed Tribe Called Quest into the Pandora search box. A Tribe song from Love Theory came on—nice, smooth, enjoyable. Then Pandora picked its next choice …
Dah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah—nah nah, nuh nah … One, two, three and to da four, Snoo—
“I love this,” I said to Todd. “You know this song, right?”
Todd nodded, but I don’t think he knew it-knew it. As in, knew the lyrics to Dre and Snoop’s Nuthin But a G-Thang.
Perfection is perfected, so I’ma let ’em understand
from a young G’s perspective
And before me dig out a bitch I have ta’ find a contraceptive
Todd winced. “Ooh,” he said.
Now you know I ain’t with that shit, Lieutenant
Ain’t no pussy good enough to get burnt while I’m up in it
Todd winced again. “Oh!”
(Yeah) And that’s realer than Real-Deal Holyfield
And now you hooka’s and ho’s know how I feel
Todd made his move. “Don’t think the neighbors will love this one.” He wisely moved for the next song.
Had me laughing.
