CELTICS MOVE ON AND OBSERVATIONS FROM TWO AIRPORTS.

Remember this banner? Well, it looks to be a reality. Celtics vs. Lakers. Yeah, this is what it's all about. Defense vs. offense. Adidas vs. Nike. The Big Three vs. Kobe. The Working Class vs. Hollywood. Hell, make it a rap battle: East Coast vs. West Coast. It's the best that basketball can offer. I'm sorry to all other teams, but nearly half of the Finals in NBA history have been won by either the Lakers or the Celtics. They have 69 Finals appearances between them. 102 teams have played in the Finals. Clash of the titans. Gotta love it.

And I like the fact that Paul's chanting "Beat L.A." in the locker room after clinching the Finals appearance. This is a rivalry. This ain't no Derek Jeter backslapping. Nah, it's on. I love it for Paul too. I remember watching him run circles around Texas Tech when I was on the come-up and when the Celtics drafted him, geez, almost a decade ago now, I thought this was going to the resurgence of the Celtics. We would return to the glory that we lost when Reggie Lewis died in 1993. This team's hungry.

And while I've enjoyed watching the Big Three this year, it's all about Kendrick Perkins and Rajon Rondo. Dudes have grown up right in front of me. Watching them come to it against the Pistons prove to me their as ready as they'll ever be for the Lakers.
The Lakers will be tough, no doubt. The Celtics know that. They just abused the Spurs in five games. All that history is out of the door because these dudes are not the Lakers of yesteryears. Better? I don't know. But they're different. So are the Celtics. Ray Allen is the shooting finesse (at times) of Larry Legend. Kendrick is our new Chief. Paul is the workhorse of McHale. Rondo is our DJ. KG? Eh, I'm not sure. He's kind of a McHale/Parish blend, if you will. I'm excited. Should be a fantastic series. I'm hearing alot of dudes call the Lakers in six. Good. I like being the underdog. Most said it would be Lakers in six on the strength of Phil Jackson. I'd love to send him packing.

I honestly don't know what to predict from the series so I'll just default to the very best we could ask for: Celtics in seven and they win it at home in Boston on a game-winning three from Ray Allen. How confident of that outcome? Not at all really. These teams are playing their very best basketball. Stay tuned, Rajon's gonna get his boxing gloves out. Ready for action.

I traveled to the northeast this week. Spent some good time in airports. Had a chance to think about a few things. Like I kinda think that Nice & Smooth were gay. Dope. Made some great party music. And gay. Check out this early picture. It get a serious, "Ayo."

And then, there's their first record where they're really close. Perfectly manicured. The moustaches neatly trimmed. Their second record, Ain't a Damn Thing Changed, came out a couple of years later and it seemed that they were trying to switch it up, but I wasn't falling for it. Check out the video for the albums, "Hip Hop Junkies." What's up with that handshake at the beginning? C'mon, now.

Kimbo Slice, from Miami, thinks he's Raw Daddy. He's col' knocking dudes out across America and maybe has some of the raddest chest hair, but we know that beard ain't the real deal.

Also a native to Miami, rapper Rick Ross, had that style going long before Kimbo broke with it. Although, let's be real, Rick Ross would whimper at a Kimbo punch.
But we know who the OG of this facial hair game is doe. I got it locked down. Ain't no one better. Real gangstas rock the Abraham.
You notice that, once you're in airport, they still warn you about staying near your stuff and never losing sight of your baggage. Why should we be concerned about someone messing with out stuff? I mean, once you're in the airport, shouldn't that be the safest place to leave your bag? Isn't it safe to assume that no one's going to stick a gun, bomb or drugs in your bag because that would've meant that security didn't do their job in the first place? The only reason you keep a close eye on your bags is so no one steals it, but do you really need someone reminding you every fifteen minutes to keep an eye on your bags. While you're at it, don't forget to breathe and swallow too. Someone sticks a bomb in my bag, I'm going at the airport for allowing a bomb to get through the security gates.

Speaking of, I forgot to take a pocket knife out of my bag before boarding in the Yellow. They passed my bags through the scanner twice because they didn't "find what they were looking for." I thought that was a peculiar comment. Tell me what you're looking for and I'll find it for you. It's my bag, after all. Turns out they eventually found it. My lucky one-handed knife. What can I say? I never travel with the bag and I'm a Boy Scout so I'm never far away from a blade. They allowed me to take it to my car. Leave the weapons at home, kiddies.

On my way out of Philly, dudes were stumped by my portable turntable. They didn't know what to make of it. I got pulled out of line and quarantined along with every East Indian in the security area. It was crazy. I mean, it was me and my turntable getting swiped for gun powder and about 10-15 East Indians. There's some haters in Philly, damn.

Funkadelic's Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow is one killer record. I mean, it's just sick. I listened to an incredible amount of Funkadelic while in transit. I'm serious, it's deep. My fascination with Funkadelic's music has hit a new level. If you want a starting point, please listen to Let's Take it to the Stage, Cosmic Slop, Uncle Jam Wants You and, of course, Maggot Brain. There's "Back In Our Minds," "Good to Your Earhole," "We Hurt Too" and "Brettino's Bounce." All of it dope. The 574 from New Balance is, without a doubt, the most comfortable shoe ever made. I say that after wearing Sauconys for the last few weeks. They're super comfy, but you can always go back to the 574. They're just the best shoe ever made. That's all there is to it. Perfect for air travel too. They're great for making the sprint from one gate to another and if you lace 'em loosely, they come right off and back on in the security gate. I prefer my purple, grey and white pair. You know, when it's time to get ill.


You've heard this before, but Fear of a Black Planet is the best hip hop album ever made. And it's probably fair to say that it will always be the best ever made because hip hop sucks now and no one has a clue what they're doing anymore. These kids don't even know what hip hop is. The artist don't even speak the language because they don't know who the hell Big Daddy Kane is. Or Rakim. Or Posdonous. If you don't know the history, it's like not knowing the language. If you don't know the language, how do you expect to make a decent hip hop record?But I digress. Fear of a Black Planet is the illest record ever. I was listening to "War at 33 1/3," "Revolutionary Generation" and "Brothers Gonna Work It Out" over and over again when I was waiting to go home. That's an three-song arsenal that can't be touched. I realize that's out of sequence, but listen to Fear of a Black Planet and give particular interest to those three songs.

I had to do everything in my power to resist picking up the above 12" in Philly. I found it at a local spot. It was beautiful. And it was over $30. Collector? Yes. Dumbass? Nah, homie. Think again. I did, however, pick up Tribe's first on vinyl for $13 and Ultramagnetic's Critical Beatdown for only $8.99. Nice score. It sucks that Flav turned out so badly in his age. Dude could've used a decent manager along the way. Not that he was mad talented in the shadow of guys like X and Chuck D, but just to keep his ass out of trouble and off TV.

Dude, I gotta tell you, my nephew is freaking amazing. Yeah. He's not pitching off the mound yet, but we have him working on shoulder strength and leg strength. He should be ready for Opening Day next year. Ladies, give him a few years. Dude's gonna be a heartbreaker. Good looking kiddo, Bro Bro.
Heading to the canyon this weekend for some camping. It's our sixth anniversary. Give respect. 95-degree heat in Texas. Now that's some camping, wussy.