Pete Nickeas

What better way to dust off this blog than to announce that Erin and I were married this weekend.

It was a beautiful ceremony at the Birdhaven Greenhouse in Joliet. It rained a good chunk of the morning, and on the ride between the wedding and the reception … but the sun was out during the ceremony.

Erin was wearing a stunning ivory dress with muted designs across the midsection. The classy and elegant dress was a reflection on her physical beauty as much as her character.

All the men were wearing gun metal gray tuxedos with white shirts. The groomsmen were wearing green vests, the ushers and our fathers were wearing black, and I was wearing ivory.

The wedding party walked into “Here Comes the Sun,” by the Beatles. Erin was walked up the aisle by her father to the theme song from Forest Gump. When our 10 minute ceremony was complete, we walked back down the aisle to Sweet Home Chicago.

We took a limo from the wedding to my grandfathers house. He fell ill a few weeks ago and is recovering but unable to attend - so the whole wedding party crammed into his apartment for photos.

We departed his house for the reception at a VFW hall in Villa Park. The wedding party walked in to Eric Clapton’s “Layla” and Erin and I walked in to Bill Withers’ “Lovely Day.”

Before dinner, we toasted to my younger brother Mike — serving in southern Afghanistan in the 1st Marine Battalion of the 2nd Marine Division of the United States Marine Corps. He is halfway through his second foreign deployment and was unable to attend the ceremony.

Erin and I scarfed food and started stopping by tables and talking with people. I only had a brief opportunity to drink in the limo on the way up — my guys were carrying flasks full of Jameson and I had a couple sips but had to keep composed while we made the rounds later that evening.

After touching base with 130 people at 16 tables (and sneaking a shot from the bar), we danced.

Our first dance was to Nina Simone’s moving “Feeling Good.” Erin danced with her father to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

After that, all our Public Affairs Reporting friends and the Mack family on Erin’s side tore up the dance floor something serious. I’ve never seen so many people dancing so enthusiastically in my life. Many people danced. But the PAR people and their dates were something else.

At that point, Erin and I fell into a routine for about 3 hours — dance, run to the bar, get held by whoever was there for shots (”He’s the groom, get him a shot of Jameson” or “Come here Erin, you look beautiful, let’s do a shot”), down the hatch, back to the dance floor.

I don’t know that I can adequately describe the immense feelings of happiness both Erin and I felt that evening. We are blessed to have so many people we consider friends.

Photos in the days to come.

If I had to guess, it’s because they didn’t realize the magnitude of the culture’s impact on pop culture until the pioneering generation was within their target demographic, which, is like 25-41 I think.

And over the years, their stuff has mostly been on point. The 100 Greatest Hip-hop Songs is an example of them showing that they know a little bit.

I disagree with a bunch of the shit on the list (Really, Tupac’s “I Get Around” over “Brenda’s Got a Baby,” “Changes,” “I Ain’t Mad At Cha,” or “Dear Mama” ?)

I mean, at least half of the back half of the list is garbage. It’s not “most influential” but “greatest” and while some of those songs had a profound effect on pop culture, they are not great.

Anyway, their documentaries on TI and Lil’ Wayne were on point.

They do the Hip-Hop Honors series, which is good.

But what’s anybody else doing with it? Nothing. It’s why kids turn to the internet for related news and shit. There’s not a reliable televised source of music news anymore, let alone a genre that barely got play in the first place.

So, me and my dad argued about Hip-hop for years. Literally, for years. From like 1996 until 2006. It was a major point of disagreement between us.

I mean, the profanity and cursing and drugs bother my father. So did the graffiti. When I was young and blasting the shit out of Out for Fame, he wasn’t happy. And why should he be? My dad didn’t want me painting trains or throwing tags.

He’s alright with it now, though. We’re at a point where we respectfully disagree with what makes good music.

It’s because, everyone he listened to when he was young, probably snorted more shit than anyone I’ve listened to. People do drugs. Difference is, the people I listen to didn’t dress it up (Juice did “L.S.D.,” The Beatles did “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”).

And if you can’t understand the importance of the culture, that’s cool. My dad, he tried to understand it and couldn’t. What was important to him and what’s important to me are different.

But people write off rap music, in its entirety. That’s cool. But they should keep their mouth shut about it or try to understand it. With both life and work, if you’re not willing to take the time and ask questions that will get you answers, you’re wasting your time and that of others.

It’s like politics. Read the legislation, ask questions of lawmakers and gov’t officials, or believe all the bullshit partisan hackery you hear. Read the books, ask questions of scholars or those involved, or buy into the bullshit that the ass clown told you.

People would be more productive doing that than asking stupid passive aggressive questions that aren’t meant to acquire information. Passive aggressive nonsense is the mark of a bitch. If you want to know something, ask a question. Quite simple.

And, me and my father were at that point once. Arguing about the validity of drug music and people who glorify a generally counter-productive lifestyle. Shooting people usually can’t be justified. And coke, in small amounts or large, is bad.

But you know what? Fact is, people can relate to it. If people are going to write off Hip-hop because of the drugs and guns associated with it, then the Beatles are equally culpable for introducing kids to acid and coke. If people are going to write off rap music because of the violence then any punk music should be classified as music that incites subversion and anti-American protests and all that.

The shit’s the same. Stupid hipster assholes wouldn’t have it be that way though. Guess that’s just how it’s going to be.

I can’t reiterate how much “Cristo Redentor” is an important piece of music.

It’s a sad, down-trodden type song but such a wonderful expression of feelings. I feel ignorant about music when I listen to the song because of how much depth there is to it.

And maybe some music snob may disagree but damnit this song is smooth.

When I feel bummy, this song doesn’t actually make me feel better but I do feel as if I’ve got some emotion out of me through the song. It’s the same way with the Tupac songs where you can tell he’s drunk and high just letting the emotion out.

Sometimes, it’s better without words.

Runner blog, days 1 & 2:
I had a shitty day Tuesday so I didn’t run. But the last couple have been good. HELL YEA

And I always know when he leaves a voicemail there’s going to be at least 16 bars of some shit he just wrote.

I can’t think of a time he left me a voicemail without rapping. And I can’t think of a time he left me a voicemail that had a refined verse.

But it’s always good shit because it’s always fresh. And sometimes it’s random-ass voicemail raps, like, rapping about what he actually meant to call me about. Then other times he calls me with an unpolished verse and it’s great because you just get 16 bars acapella. Good shit all around, for real.

It’s actually inspiring to hear someone who’s still raps like they’re hungry. And it’s not like he needs to do it, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t gotten rich off of hip-hop.

Anyway, I’m supposed to call you back Cojack. My bad for not doing so. I’ll give you a call tomorrow probably.

Runner Blog Day 8:
We ran the hills today instead of the distance, which was good. That was Erin’s call.

We ran it all the way through again, like yesterday, which is good.

My Aunt (dad’s brother’s wife) commented on the last post. Apparently she’s running a half marathon. I’m not even close to that point yet!

In time though. In time.

What sucks about Hip-hop is that it’s such a kid’s game that getting back into the music after a few months away from it is difficult.

And, you don’t need to preach to me how you don’t need to be young to appreciate music, or any of that. Because really, there’s no excuse for not listening to music.

Maybe it’s because I don’t have hours each day at school during class to look up new music but I’ve had a hell of a time finding new music. It’s been a blessing of sorts because this People Under The Stairs album basically got me through my last semester of schooling … that just ended about a month ago.

And now, I’m listening to a lot of Pharoahe Monch(o - the head honcho) because, well, it’s dope. That’s it. I know the Internal Affairs album front to back and there’s a sense of familiarity about it.

But I’ve really, really been missing out on that feeling of anticipating a release. It just doesn’t happen. I was kinda geeked about the “new” Atmosphere album but not really before that.

I mean, for a few years there, there was at least one album every month worth spending money on. And that’s just not the case anymore.

There’s all of that … and I haven’t been to a show in years. I miss that. I just became accustomed to going to shows when I was near Chicago but being in Wyoming, and before that, Springfield, made all of that very difficult.

I guess I’m getting old. Shit.

Part of it has to be that I’ve been moving around a lot. Over the next couple months as we get settled in, I do plan on digging through all the releases that have just slipped by me over the past couple years and maybe there will be a gem in there. Who knows.

In the mean time I’m all ears if you have suggestions … but this just came on and I don’t know how soon I’ll get to ‘em.

Stay up. Peace!

None of them are mine.

(Lyrics to “Loyalty” by Blue Scholars)

It’s more than just a hobby or pastime! Cause 24/7 I’m representin’ the Massline. Daily grind, 85, wonder why, maybe I’m way behind lately been occupyin’ my mind, with the possibility this means we’ll all end with two albums, and a handful of people I call friends … And friends I call my comrades, and comrades who stand - together write a book till it ends!

Indeed as we be headed in directions getting whole towns polarized, either love it or leave it, indeed I’m giving credit to the fam who believed it, preceding the hype of the hyperbole of the media, even though some people abandon ship on the other hand some were skeptical quick, but now they quick to bandwagon up! Saggin’ my pants at the cocktail party with the mayor and later rockin’ a party with a thousand in the air, that’s a beautiful thing, and if you’re new to this thing, don’t front, ask a question, stay humble, do your thing!

But just remember you ain’t gotta prove a thing, stand up or fall down thanks for listenin’ y’all … Because I, got your back even if you don’t got mine, grind in the dark when the clock strikes hard times. We ain’t nothing if this bond ain’t solidified, five thanks in war time that people still alive!

Dignified soldiers who walk with the spirit of 12 million plus lost and found in this lyric, sound man turn it till the whole town hear it, either stand up or fall down now if you feel it! Stand up or fall down, stand up or fall down, while the record goes round stand up or fall down, stand up or fall down, stand up or fall down, shile the record goes round let the whole town know that it’s us!

Somebody tell me where the riders and the soldiers are! Before they close the door and go and start a colder war! I see ‘em posted up in corner stores holdin’ fort. hopin’ for a life from the crack of an open door!

And so the storm comes to cleanse without warn, while the youth play with fire just to keep themselves warm … In a cold world, cold people, playin’ cold songs … sold for spare change while the broke hold on. Why they call themselves right, but then act so wrong? Dollar sign challenged why the unemployment line long, no call for the blue collar gettin’ low ball! It’s a long climb just to get to petty bourgeois while we, gettin’ lifted but forgettin’ that we fall! Hit and shake cause your movin’ but without the roll call.

This is protracted struggle revolutionized patience … bump this on your right wing radio station. And maybe crack a top 10 daily rotation, but until then?
You can keep ignorin’ what I’m sayin’. But just remember you ain’t gotta prove a thing, stand up or fall down thanks for listenin’ y’all … because I, got your back even if you don’t got mine, grind in the dark when the clock strikes hard times. We ain’t nothing if this bond ain’t solidified, give thanks in war time that people still alive!

Dignified soldiers who walk with the spirit of 12 million plus lost and found in this lyric, sound man turn it till the whole town hear it. Either stand up or fall down now if you feel it.

Stand up or fall down, stand up or fall down while the record goes round stand up or fall down, stand up or fall down, stand up or fall down, while the record goes round let the whole town know that it’s us!

Let’s have a mid city fiesta with your west L.A. connection!

A break from real-life shit, how about, take a breather and enjoy the song.

I remember, when I was in high school, I wrote an article for the student paper at the end of my junior year. It was a review of the most recent J5 album at the time - Power in Numbers - and, I was just geeked to write an article about a group that I still consider among my favorites.

Anyway, so first issue of next year comes around, and there’s something in there about the People Under The Stairs album from this other kid. And I was like, damn, this looks kinda dope, let me see what’s up.

And I didn’t like it at first. But over time it’s become one of the few albums that stays in steady rotation.

I’m a simple man. I like beats and rhymes.

The production is always, always on point. And they know how to put words together. Really, what more could you ask for?

All I need now is a glass of single-malt, a notepad, and a nice pen.

Life would be so serene.

I totally forgot about this song, too, which is a shame in itself. I don’t know that I’ve … wait, I’ve listened to it at work. In fact, having the headphones on with Last.FM or Youtube in the background, listening to music while I wrote my articles up or for a few hours in the morning (or on the weekend as it were) while I just worked on stuff … turns out we’ve got a 5 gig a month transfer limit at work (who knew they still had these, anywhere?) so all that Youtubing and Last.FMing racked up our internet bill.

So, no more streaming audio at work - whether I’m here during business hours (9-6) or after/before work.

This edict came down from on high actually some time in February. A video here or song there doesn’t hurt anyone - we regularly watch stuff from a local political blog or from the Trib’s political blog - but streaming audio for three hours in the morning before everybody else gets here? Not happening, son.

Which brings me to my next point - working on the weekend.

The past month has been so wild - hell, even two months … ever since the lawmakers got back from their two-week break - it’s been RUN RUN RUN. No time to work on projects because we’ve been putting in 10-12 hour days with some regularity anyway, so anytime spent on projects is your own time.

Lucky for me, I spent a lot of free time and day-time working this project I’m trying to wrap up, just after the impeachment. I fed the machine with a bill-introduction story here and there, plus anything that broke throughout the day, but for a couple weeks, I spent nights and down-time at work doing project stuff.

So after months of this - and now that I have a free weekend … I find myself at work, bored out of my mind at home* and not having a real hobby other than reading. But since I packed all my books up, there’s nothing new for me to read (since I finished Generation Kill, an amazing book).

So I’m just going to deal with the fact that I’m far more used to reporting than relaxing, for now, and knock out this project in the next week and a half.

When I get to Wyoming, I’m hoping I can settle into a 40-45 hour work week. No more worrying about moving (or having to move after work), no more class, nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Just work, and life.

And I’m geeked about that, for real.

* - Home right now is Apt. 1107 of Lincoln Towers, where my friend Eric has so humbly offered me floorspace where I’ve created a “home.” It’s a mirror image of the other half of the living room - so we have two futons, two tv’s, two coffee tables, all right next to each other.

Before 1107, though, over the past 5 years, “home” was at 1360 W. Byron in Addison, and 313 Ryan Hall at Lewis, then Pope Hall at Lewis, 660 Natalie in Byron, 307 Ryan Hall at Lewis, DeLaSalle Hall at Lewis, an attached-apartment to a flower shop I worked at in River Grove, a Ramada Inn in Addison, Founders Hall at Lewis, and 641 Willow Glen in Addison.

Or was an old author trying to write his own closing scene?”

On a rainy day, when I can only reiterate my love for thunderstorms and the tranquil peace that they bring, I give to you …

“Word from the big bad, fat ass, motherfuckin, Brother Ali! Ugh!”

This is one of those songs I feel privileged to have stumbled upon. Can’t even begin to recite all the quotables from this song. I’ve quoted extensively from this song in my journal entries, on my facebook/myspace pages, and in random ass conversation with people and they don’t even know about it. Also, when you get drunk and talk with one of your buddies about life stuff? This is one of those songs that spurs conversation.

This is gotta be one of the most introspective and insightful songs I’ve heard.