Never Far From My Heart

I was listening to some "hip-hop" music on the radio today, which I don't do a lot of. I don't mean to distance myself from rap music, as I actually listen to and like a lot of rap music. These days, however, I find most rap consists of telling me:

1. Rappers are incredibly rich. They are so wealthy that they buy things they don't need, like or want and set them on fire on the lawn of a rival rapper.
2. Rappers weren't always wealthy. In fact, they used to live in a small shoebox at the bottom of the East River with their 75 brothers and sisters, all of whom have their own South Pacific islands now that said rap star has made it.
3. If Rapper B thinks they are richer, better with the opposite sex, more talented, have more fans, and are better respected in the rap community than Rapper A, Rapper B and all those people who agree with his take on the situation are unfortunately mistaken and will pay dearly, likely at the hands of a Rapper A's associates.

The notable exceptions to this are rappers like Common, Immortal Technique, and to some extent Kanye. I'm sure there are other good, socially conscious and talented rappers out there, but I don't know them. If you do, let me know and I'll be sure to give them the appropriate amount of "cred" and "props" respectively.

But today on the radio, I heard a familiar voice on the radio as I listened to New York's blazin' hip-hop and r&b. It was a sound I knew so well, and yet couldn't place. It was at this time that I absently pondered, "whatever happened to Puff Daddy/P. Diddy/Diddy/Marathon Man?" Then, the unmistakable cry of "Bad Boy baby" reminded me. Oh, there he is.

I'm not sure why, but Diddy tells me the name of his rap label every 3 seconds. It isn't as though anyone who wants to buy his album needs to know the label. I've never gone into a record store and said "I say my good man, I'd like to purchase a new hip-hop album. I'm not sure of the artist, but it was undoubtedly urban in nature and belongs to the label of Bad Boy. Could you assist me?" Of course, I'm not from 1937, but endlessly bleating "Bad Boy" only annoys people when they are trying to drive or dance, and briefly halts the flow of pounding...uh, allegro. (Ok, I don't know music terms, but it jerks the music out of actual music and into an advertisement, and a pointless one at that.)

I wonder if Diddy chanted "Bad Boy, Bad Boy, Bad Boy" as he ran the 26.5 miles of the marathon. I'd have thrown down some of Nelly's Pimp Juice and got the hell out of there.