When sistahs say, “That White boy can saaaang!”

As most of my friends know, I tend to get out and about “on the town” almost every weekend.  No more needs to be said here on that topic.

Early last month, my homegirls (yes I still use this term…exclusively actually to describe my “besties”, as my kids will say), and I were meeting up in the Village to celebrate the birthdays of two other homegirls.  First, we hit a comedy club to check out an old high school friend who was hosting for the night (Mike Britt in case you’re wondering).  He did his thing.  We laughed and drank (I was actually a little tipsy from a couple of vodkas at the salon beforehand), and continued on to our next stop to hit the party.  Without getting into details, we never quite made it into the full swing of things at the club and ended up leaving after spending only 15 minutes there (UGH!  I’m so mad at myself for that but hopefully I am forgiven by now).

Eventually we “landed” at a live music venue I used to frequent like a second home.  I hadn’t been there in a long bit, but it was close by and my homies were down to go and just wanted to get out of the cold.  I know just about every soul who works there and was happy to see everyone for the most part. 

Nothing had really changed.  I was pleased to hear the band singing a few new songs but what really struck a chord for the four of us, was this new White dude playing guitar in the back.  I personally didn’t pay him any mind; thinking he was just another pretty face they had found to fill the shoes of the former guitar player (who I actually love and respect) who used to play there.

It wasn’t until this dude opened his mouth, or larynx, or whatever the f*** he uses to sing, that all of our mouths dropped in unison to exclaim “Whoa! that White boy can saaaang!”  Needless to say (but since not all of my 13 readers know me personally, maybe it does need to be said), I am uber-critical and I typically hang with like-minded folks.  I don’t and won’t give props to anyone if I don’t like them.  Maybe they’ll get a silent nod that signifies, “hey, it looks like you’re trying your best buddy”, and I am a mother after all, so I’ve had a ton of  practice getting the nod just right.

Anyway, back to the scene.  I really can’t recall everything he sang but the cover of U2’s Carry Each Other was…OMG!!! (yep I went there…yuck.).

Normally I pay close attention to the deets on my new “finds”, but again, we were partying heavy, had one too many pineapple vodkas, and I left the place forgetting to find out “who the HAIL was THAT!”

It took me a few weeks before I remembered that there was a live stream from this club and I immediately made an appointment with my computer for the night, with the hope that this dude wasn’t just there sitting in for that night…and dreams really do come true…it CAN happen to you…

Colin Smith

You MUST….nah you HAFTA click on his name.  I will not fill the rest of these pages tellin’ you anything else about him.  Once you click and listen, you’ll see what I’m talking about.

Wait, wait, wait one more thing…and it kills me to do this…

You have to go and listen to him live.  I’m not going to tell you where.  Follow him…Facebook him…whatever…lemme know what you think.

Wait, wait, sorry one more thing; a disclaimer of sorts. His music is available on his website and I did download the free version, but what I did promise to do in return was to let my peeps know about him…I would have done it regardless.

A Skeptic's Guide to Love...An Update

One picture says it all...For the full background story click here

A Skeptic's Guide to Love and the Art of Matchmaking

I'm a skeptic who believes in love; at least the theory of love when the planets are in proper alignment, when we're entering the age of Aquarius, when two people truly don't care what other people think, AND when I; The Katalist have a hand in making the introductions...but not until all of these things are in place, do I believe in love.

I've made my fair share of matches; the business and personal sort. Most recently, I had the pleasure of making a match between two of the most unlikely people anyone else would have guessed would have hit it off. Strangely enough, even I didn't see the match. I had a guy friend who was getting over a heartbreak and I was really trying hard NOT to match him with someone else because he just seemed too fragile. Then one day, I met a really quiet young lady who would stop into the club I frequented. She would usually just stand on the sidelines, or sit alone with her violin case waiting to be called on stage and one day I think I finally decided to interact with her. Again, she was really quiet but in our brief conversations, I could tell she was really smart. And I think I should mention that this chick had no problems in attracting men. Guys I had never even seen in this place before, were slithering over to honeychile all night.

Now, I guess I should mention that I had taken a break from the whole matchmaking game because some of the women I would attempt to match just didn't know a good man if one had a sign from God handwritten on his forehead, so I became disillusioned with the sistah gurls in my life. I actually don't blame some of them, but loneliness is a hard pill to swallow...frankly when alone. Sorry, I digress...so let's just leave it as, I quit the matchmaking game...Why? It made me too angry.

BUT, on one of these days down in the dark basement club, a lighted path began to shine from one side of the room to other. This beam (as seen only by me) connected this young lady to my homeboy and in a second I knew what I had to do. Again, I don't have the foggiest clue as to whether this match made sense or not. In fact this was the first time I ever matched two people without calculation. All I figured they had in common was music; he being a drummer and her a violinist. That's all I had!

So after the night was over and the ugly lights came up, I walked this serious minded young sister over to my jovial, silly yet goodhearted homie. The introduction went something like this:

TheKatalist: Hey Biscuit
Biscuit (laughing hysterically with some other dudes): HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA
TheKatalist: Hey Bis (now tapping him on the arm)
Biscuit (apparently comfortable with ignoring me): HAHAHAHAHAHHHHHAAAAAHHHHH
TheKatalist: GODDAMMIT BISCUIT!!!!!!
Biscuit (snapping out of it...although I shortened this exchange of me trying to get his attention by like 5 attempts): AHHH (still teary eyed from whatever stupid joke they were laughing at...BOYS) hey wassup Kat?
TheKatalist: I'd like for you to meet Charisa....

I'd like to stop here. By now, I figured homeboy had blown it. I mean good gracious! If I was standing there waiting to be introduced to this fool, I woulda walked away by now; laughing like he was in need of medication. But I turned around and Charisa was still standing there. Gotta give the girl her props...So the introductions were made and I made my exit while acting out some very indiscreet sign language to the remaining cast of amateur comedians, to get out the hell outta the way as well.

I am not really sure what happened from there, but let's just say, nature took its course (and my man Biscuit actually must have some kinda game huh?) and the next thing I know, I'm getting a phone call from the both of them thanking me for bringing them together.

Now lemme tell you something...some of you might think that they would have probably met eventually, but that's a crock of bull and I won't even entertain that thought because it's likely to put me out of business (lol, "business", funny) if I did.

Soooooo, where are they today? I was inspired to write this blog because of the event that took place last night. I'll leave this video for you as an answer to the question. Enjoy.

P.S. - And while I am still skeptical about MANKIND, LOVE does (well maybe) exist for those who let it.

Ciao, Ciao, Ciao
The Katalist