Too Many Rappers: February Wrapup

Too Many Rappers: February Wrapup
By Nathan G. O'Brien on Scene Point Blank

As I write this, I am overlooking the Sea of Cortez on the Baja Peninsula from the balcony of my room at a vacation resort outside of Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. I don’t consider myself the typical vacation tourist, yet for the fourth year in a row now, I find myself spending a week in a warm, luminous locale, doing fairly typical vacation tourist things like, well, spending a week at a vacation resort designed specifically for the typical tourist. It’s nice to get away for a bit to just lay in the sun, imbibing various items and not doing a damn thing that requires any brain power whatsoever. That is, aside from deciding what kind of cocktails and/or tacos I’m going to order from one of the many attentive employees roaming the grounds. My day goes a little lot like this: I get up whenever I want. I eat a peanut butter sandwich in my room. I go for a swim. I pick a spot to chill on either the beach or near the pool. I drink a real sugar Coke or a real sugar Pepsi. I read a bunch of zines from the pile that has stacked up over the last few months. I eat some tacos. I drink some cervezas. I turn on my iPod and pass out under the blazing hot sun, while some classic reggae like Yellow Man & Fathead, Black Uhuru or The Abyssinians flowss from my ear buds deep into my brain. I go swimming again. I drink some more cervezas. I read a book. I eat some more tacos, or maybe a quesadilla or a burrito. I drink some cocktails—usually a Miami Vice, which is half strawberry daiquiri and half pinna colada or a Funky Monkey, which is bananas, chocolate sauce, coconut and either vodka or rum (I can’t remember; it makes no difference to me either way because, you know, it’s booze.)—or even more cervezas while sitting in the hot tub, watching the sun go down over the palm trees. Back at my room, I usually eat various snacks—a Snickers, ice cream, some strangely-flavored Pringles, etc.—while flipping between Spanish HBO and month-old episodes of crappy American TV shows that I’d never watch back home. Or, sometimes, like right now, I’ll sit and stare at the moonlight glistening off the ocean and think about really important things like how there’s too many rappers.  ...Column continues here.

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