Sean Combs is my hero now. At his height, I considered him to be the dastardly villain that wanted to replace the 2^nd H in Hip Hop.

One minute he was the clean cut dude pulling the strings behind the scenes. He was the epitome of what an A&R guy used to be, knowing how to add just enough street edge to contemporary R&B to make consumable by both the majority music buyers as well as the hardcore backpackers.

The next minute, he’s rightfully getting called out by Suge the Enforcer for being the most prominent figure in his artist’s videos. He spent much of the 90’s shimmying and shining, feeding the Hype’s belly on that channel formerly known as Music Television.

In retrospect, I have come to realize that I was taking a serious Haterade shower regarding my bruh Diddy. As I listen to what masquerades for the hotness today, I find myself wishing that HG Wells had a CD player in his time machine and the he could take me back to a day and time when there was some flava in my ear.

In a bizarro world, Diddy is slogging away 8 hours a day at a keyboard developing software and I am the one who is moving like a bad boy in silence. 

Back in high school, I was plugged in to Top 100 pop music. Bon Jovi, David Bowie and The Police were all well known and sensible to my music palate. In fact, I preferred the top 100 station because there was 100 times variety than the R&B station. To this day, I still get clowned for being the one fly in the buttermilk who voted to listen to Y-107 over 92Q in Ms. Chandler’s art class.

From 94 on, S. Did assembled a team of producers known as the Hitmen who did just that, sampled those Hits and converted them into Hip Hop form. I’ve been down since day one, when Biggie was the opening act and Puffy was his hype man. Two men, dressed in black jeans t-shirts and ball caps.  That was it. Nuff said.. The rest, as they say is history.

It is not necessarily Diddy’s talent that makes him successful. He’s never the lyricist and seldom the musician. He’s like real estate. For him, it is all about location, location, location.

Fashion: Somewhere between Hilfiger and Phat Farm lies Sean Jean.

Business Ventures: Justin’s is still a sweet spot in the “A”, outlasting many spots even national chains.

Spirits: Once Communism fell, vodka parted like the red sea so in comes Ciroc

Film: Have you ever felt more compassion for a condemned killer? You just knew that he was getting a raw deal in Texas, where the electric chair can burn DNA evidence into oblivion.

News & Culture: I would have hit on Katie Couric too…

Now, fresh from an Oscar win, I have the full picture of Mr. Combs. Yes you can date J.Lo and still play the humble card. I’m looking forward to the launch of Revolt. If it’s me, I’m making the same move.

Ok Combs, back to work on creating that database. As for me, I’m keeping in moving… Take that… Take that. Take that.