Captains Log...Star Date August 3, 2008 11:39AM EST

"You sang beautifully just then...,"
"I sang for you." --Intro to

Rainy Days

from Raekwon's Built 4 Cuban Linx

I'm sitting in apartment C-4 of the 1629 Building on Walton Avenue near 174th Street in New York City. Indeed I am straight up in the middle of the Bronx sittin' in my boy Darryn's crib listening to some of the Wu's greatest. It's not as hot as it has been in here, although I am still sitting squarely in front of the fan, straddling it like black women braiding hair on a stoop. I'm just glad not to be sweating right now as I wait to go eat at La Fonda Boricua in Harlem and then head back to the Bronx to see da Bombers (aka The New York Yankees) take on the Angels in the house that Ruth built. We tried to go to this restaurant last night but it must be understood that speed is not a strong suit up in this camp. When you're rollin' with a cat whose nickname is "Pretty" you can't expect that he can ever get "ready" to go anywhere in an expeditious manner.

We gave him this moniker back in junior high after repeatedly sitting and waiting for him to iron his clothes, comb his hair, file his nails, floss his teeth, braid his fat laces, or whatever else it is that takes him so long. Let no one ever say that the brotha does not take pride in his appearance. That's my man 20 Grand though, so it's all good. I had hoped to get some arroz con pollo before the game, hear the national anthem and see the whole game at Yankee Stadium, but the schedule is steadily slipping. Perhaps my plans are a tad bit unrealistic. No worries though. Catching up with a good friend far outdistances any ball game or plate of chicken and rice. Wow! He's almost ready. I'll check back in later....



August 3, 2008 9:45pm EST
I'm back, but now it IS hot. No, I'm not in a hot little apartment in the Bronx any more, but rather in seat 14A of Continental flight 650 sitting at Gate C-131 of Newark's Liberty International Airport. We've been sitting here for over an hour now, sweating like slaves. Well, that's how long I've been here. Everyone else has been here a little longer. By some miraculous act of God, I was allowed to board this flight even though they had closed the door and the Customer Service Agent at the counter told me that I'd have to re-book for the following morning. No sooner than I had left the Customer Service counter, I noticed that the sign at Gate C-131 said "San Francisco, DELAYED...NOW 8:45PM" and there was now a Gate Agent where before there had been none. Mr. Andrew Carty is now my new favorite Continental Airlines employee as he made a way out of no-way, not only getting me back on this flight that traffic and a long security line seemed to have caused me to miss, but he also got me an exit window. That's what I call going above and beyond the call of duty. So here I sit in one of those special New York corridor airport delays where the pilot doesn't bother leaving the gate because there's too much traffic on the runway and when he finally does, your silver-skinned bird is 23rd in line for take-off. It would've been really frustrating to look at this plane sit there and not be able to get on it.

"This is your.........uh...Captain speaking....uhhhhh...," the captain started in.

"..just wanted to...uhhhh....give you an....uhhhh....update from up here in the uhhhhhh...flight deck. We...uhhh...apologize for the temperature. It should start to cool down once the...uhhhhhh...engines kick on and the air conditioner starts working." Public speaking was clearly not a requirement to finishing flight school. I'll...uhhh...try to give you another update after we hear from...uhhhh...air traffic control...and...uh...we have a better idea...of...uhhhh...when we're closer to take-off."

Then he finished it off with that requisite line that all pilots are entitled to utter when closing out their little soliloquys and putting down the radio. I'll let you say it with me. "So just sit back, relax...," I practically lip synced it from my exit row seat. Oh, by the way I did finally get that arroz con pollo, but not until after the game. I made an executive decision to go to 27 Sports Bar and Cafe on West Mount Eden Avenue to get a Cuban Sandwich and then jump on the number 4 train to 161st street for Yankee Stadium.

It was quite an ordeal getting into see some baseball on these hallowed grounds, but we saw plenty of action. We dipped back to the house before taking one last crack at La Fonda Boricua. As it so often is, the 3rd time was the charm as I finally got a taste of this Bobby Flay slaying Puerto Rican chef's signature dish and washed it down with a couple glasses of sangria. A fabulous weekend without a single dull moment. You gotta love it!