Thursday, January 12, 2006

Hello Big Apple, Here comes the TEXAS TIGER


Mode: Brown flat-fronted slacks with brown squared toed-shoes. A Ralph Lauren shirt with horizontal stripes with three colors in succession (pink, green and yellow). My top-coat is a vintage button-up suede jacket (the color is camel).

Munchies: Grapefruit, orange slices, three pineapple rings and a strawberry.

Music that started my day: "The Dream that Will Not Die" by Shirley Murdock. Remember the R*B diva who slept around with other women's husbands? (at least in song). Well, much like Kirk Franklin she has been delivered and is now singing the gospel. I think this song is particularly important for people who may be dealing with a health challenge, an emotional set back, a personal failure or a spiritual disconnection. Sometimes I wonder how do you keep your fire, your desire and your passion for your dreams alive. Shirley sings that God put the dreams in your spirit and your dreams will not die because God CANNOT lie. God gave you YOUR dreams and YOUR dreams are the TRUTH. The song continues to get me through life's bruises and cuts. I encourage you to download it. And while you are at it, download "Go on without you" It's one of Murdock's power ballads (likely about some woman's husband). She screams and wails and carries on. Perfect for a breakup. Then you put on the gospel track and heal yourself knowing that your dream for true love will not die.

Motif: Are you ready to walking into your life's anointing and calling?

Friday evening I made a small and quiet entry into New York's social scene as a party host. I have been here in the Big Apple for a little over a year now and I finally feel like New York City is home. When I first set foot here a year ago and I was cursed out by a cab driver, yelled at by a bus driver, screamed at by the deli slicer at Pathmark, accosted by a panhandler on the #6 train who sat next to me and lit his crystal meth pipe, insulted by a man in a gold hat, gold pant and gold boots yelling religious obscenities at me on 125 th street, and not allowed to shop at Hermes during store hours (yea….it happened to me too!).

I was just a little boy from Texas. With champagne wishes. Beluga dreams. John Varvatos aspirations. And upper-west side penthouse in the sky goals. And the city was taxing. More taxing that Reaganomics. And the "niceties" of Southern folk did not always trickle down. My heart has been broken by lovers. My back has been stabbed by coworkers and my existence has been questioned by Tom Cruise and the Scientologists. But I am still here. Dammit, I am still here.

And for me, Friday was to show not only that I was still here, but that I plan to stay here and make my mark. It was my way of living loudly, much like Star Jones’ wedding.

And just like Star Jones’ wedding, I traded a lot of favors to get things for free so the night could be perfect. And man do my knees hurt. But it was so worth it.

For my party I was thinking Martha Stewart meets B. Smith meets Katie Brown meets Rachel Ray meets Lloyd Boston. I know. I had a lot going on in my head. And for one lucky guest I also channeled inspiration from Superhead. I am kidding!

Seriously, I was kidding.

So the day begun like any other day. I got up and made a small pot of gourmet hot chocolate. As of late, I have been mixing white chocolate with dark chocolate to give myself that French café feel. I just love Godiva.

I had to pick up last minute party essentials (e.g. food) from Fairway Markets and the Harlem Citerella as I wanted everything to be fresh, fresh, fresh. As I stood in the center of the supermarket I had a CRASH moment. Just like Sandra Bullock, I broke down right in front of the fresh veggies on aisle 6 as the mist sprayed over the lettuce and radishes. I didn’t know what to buy. What to cook. What would make my guests happy. Which foods would match the décor. And why oh why was I always angry! And every since I had to fire my maid I don’t have any friends. And it was ALL my fault because I knew it was going to happen!

But after I calmed myself down with a shot of Smirnoff Vanilla, I was quite fine again.

My good friend Samantha came over to help me decorate the apartment and set up my serving table. I took a little inspiration from Katie Brown in terms of decorations because she always says you should use items from around your house to give it a more "welcoming" feeling. That is why I used vintage canisters as ice buckets and empty wine bottles as flower vases. I decorated the table with white flowers (I used artificial flowers) and arranged my wine and martini glasses on a small stand near the serving area. We put little trays of gourmet cookies and candies at various locations through the living room and dining room so no matter where you turned there was always food, drink and snacks within arms reach.

Samantha was such a god-send because she really helped me pull it together just like Nona Gaye helped Sandra Bullock’s husband pull it right together during all those long assignments and stuff. On my way to run some errands in Harlem, I had Sam drop me off on 125th street and it was through the grace of God, praise Jesus, that I made it safely. Sam has a severe case of road rage and every car trip with her tests my faith in Christ Jesus. Once I got in the car with Sam I looked on the floor and found a piece of paper that read

"Look Crackhead Fiend. Stop trying to break into my damn car. I don’t have money for this sh*t. Damn!"

Yea, she put it all on the line. For whatever crackhead fiend has been trying to break into Sam’s car, I am sure he is walking around New Jersey sitting a little funny since she ripped him a new one. When I asked Sam about the note she repeated it to me with so much venom I thought I had done something to her car. Between the note and her road rage, I was really happy to reach my barbershop unscathed.

My barber is a whole other ball of wax. He is a self-styled playboy who cuts my hair while wearing Burberry shirts with solid print ties. I am so into that. One thing that stands out to me about my dentist is that he cleans my teeth while wearing Burberry shirts and his platinum Rolex. It’s kinda hot. It makes me a lot more relaxed than a barber who wears a do-rag to work. But me and my barber have a few issues and he is on thin ice. As he attempts to match his snarky comments with my off-handed sarcasm we end up in many heated debates and sometimes he cuts my hair in silence because the air is so thick between us. But this Friday I was in a good space and I really wanted to start the new year of right since I had to send him to the Harlem hospital in stitches a few weeks back. But as soon as I sat in the chair and started telling him about the week, he tested my faith.


I told him about the viewing party and how I wanted to thank him for hooking up my fade and the back of my neck before I did the show. He said it was cool and proceeded to tell me about all the NBA players whose hair he cuts. I would ramble off the list to you but I don’t know who any of those people are and for all I know they may play for the Harlem PS 145 and not the
New York Knicks.

But I was trying to do the Christian thing and invite him to my party as I thought it would be good to see him in a more social setting.

Tiger: Hey, so I am having a viewing party at my house tonight. I would love it if you could come (and I said this very nicely with an air of genuine sincerity in my heart. Then he pulled out a knife).
Playboy: (First he looks at the barber sitting next to him and then he looks off into space and says…) "Will there be any girls there?"

SIDEBAR: One point for the Playboy. Now I had put all my knives up because after my mini-breakdown that morning I thought it would be a bad idea to be walking around with a sharp object….but no….negroes in the hood all ways want to test you. Always.

Tiger: There will be tons of pretty girls at my party. Some naturally born.

SIDEBAR: I am good for the recovery.

After I left the b-shop I headed to Spanish Harlem to pick up a digital camera. At this point it is 4pm and I still need to get home to hook up my ibook and playlist, prepare my food, and have some "me" time before my guests arrive.

I got home and immediately cut on the Rufus classis album Ask Rufus. My favorite song is Better Days. "We’ve got better days ahead." Not a bad line to repeat to yourself over and over.
My friend Daniel showed up a few minutes early to hang some of his artwork on my wall to give my apartment some artistic flair and ambiance. I lit candles in each room of the apartment (vanilla in the living room and Citrus in the bathroom) and I loaded up my playlist of party songs which was pretty much an ode to the 80s.

As my guests began to arrive I opened up a bottle of chilled white wine soon followed by a few bottles of red. But the hit of the party were the martinis. Mind you, I had no idea that the martini would outshine the wine at a wine party….but it did. My friend Leshawnda brought the apple and cranberry martinis and they were enjoyed by all. One or two or three or four times the enjoyment. And I am not a fan of cranberry juice but even I was sipping on the cranberry martini.

For hor d’ourves, I had veggie quiche, pigs in a blankets, buffalo chicken, egg rolls and chicken taqitos.

For dessert I served an assortment of cheesecakes (chocolate, strawberry, turtle) and I had a few bottles of dessert wine which no one ever got to.

I put on a copy of the "BET News: 2005 Rewind" after a comfortable number of guests had arrived and we all sat down to watch the show.

I was so honored that the show’s illustrious producer, Shannon, showed some love and stopped by.

I had a lovely turnout and best of all, I got a chance to introduce some great New Yorkers to other great New Yorkers who have made my move here very special.

And the other "best" event of the night was when Daniel came into the kitchen and asked me did I like the yellow portrait he hung on my wall. Of course I said yes. Then he said, "Good. It yours."

So now I have a Daniel "original" hanging in my home that I will cherish for many many many years to come. Now all I need is a friend who designs Bentleys.

Coming Soon – "SHINE" When I met Star Jones Reynolds….
Posted by Texas Tiger in NYC :: 6:41 AM :: 4 Comments:

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