Happy Salute eve week! The hour has almost arrived, and I can’t wait to eat, I mean party, when the St. Louis American Foundation takes over America’s Center for the 38th Annual Salute to Excellence in Education Scholarship and Awards Gala on Saturday (November 1). I’m thrilled to report that I can fit this dress! Somebody might have to cut me out of it once I zip it if I had to wear it today, but I am claiming the victory over this evening gown. And if push comes to shove, I can clip a cape that flows like a train on the back and y’all will be none the wiser. I got that inspiration at one of the four – that’s right, four – galas I’ve been to since the last time we talked. I wish I could remember who to credit. It was either at the Little Bit Foundation Gala, The Black Rep Gala, The Jackie Joyner-Kersee Foundation Gala or the Grand Center Gala. And speaking of JJK, when I tell you she was utterly breathtaking from head to toe in her red gown. It was giving, “say you are a Delta without saying you are a Delta,” and I was here for every bit of it. She ate all the way down to the marrow with that look! I’m talking about that Bruce Leroy glow! And as hard as I worked to get into this dress, she had me on the internet in search of something more opulent. I forced myself to be satisfied with the look I have. It will do what it needs to do. I can’t wait to see what formal wear y’all serve as we get lit in the name of learning. Did I tell y’all about the Old School vs. New School after party featuring DJ Kut and DJ Homicide? Of course I did. You might still be able to get a ticket – and that’s heavy on the might. Visit www.stlamerican.com or call 314.533.8000 to find out.
Turning up with T-Pain. In the days leading up to his show at The Factory I was trying to remember if I ever had the pleasure of seeing autotune king T-Pain live. After the way he threw down with his throwbacks and new tracks, I’m going to go ahead and say no. Because if he gave a show like did on Friday night, I would never forget! Listen, I never sat down or shut up for the whole two hours of that show. And I’m seriously considering pressing kidnapping charges against him for the way he abducted these edges of mine. T-Pain and DJ Montay had me in a moment, y’all. When they mixed Jamie Foxx’s “Blame It” with Keith Sweat’s “Make It Last Forever,” I almost dropped my drink. That wasn’t just a mix — that was a memory. That blend hit deep for Gen X and the millennials. I took my niece with me, and she said that the vibe of that moment suddenly sent her back to Skate King. She imagined herself trying to catch the eye of that one boy, pretending she wasn’t watching him watch her. I’m so glad I got footage of that mix, because that’s the kind of groove you can’t relive twice. T-Pain didn’t just perform; he took us home.
Partying like a trap rock star. I went from tearing the club up to 20-year-old music with T-Pain on Friday, to trying not to look like the law while doing my best to party amongst 20-year-old people on Saturday. Thanks a lot Playboi Carti. While doing so, a feeling came over me that was something I’ve never experienced in all my years of beating the streets for y’all in the name of Partyline. As soon as I settled into my seat at Enterprise Center, I felt like a doggone chaperone! I was like, “Is this how the old men in the club would feel if they had any shame?” I’m gonna sound even older when I use this reference, but all I kept thinking about is Danny Glover’s character Murtaugh, and his catch phrase in “Lethal Weapon.” It’s NSFP (not safe for Partyline), but it perfectly sums up what I was going through. If any of those children had hit me with a “yes ma’am,” I would have crashed out, but understood. Enough about my feelings, let’s get on with Playboi and ‘nem’s show. It’s been days since the show and my ears are still ringing. I can’t even hear myself type! That show was loud — like, “I think I saw sound” loud. And I’m pretty sure the bass rearranged my internal organs. Remember how our dogs would be barking by the time we walked from our cars to the concert because we would try to be cute? Well, this wasn’t that! There were no heels, no designer flexing — just black layers, sneakers and vibes. Folks knew what was up. You clearly don’t come to a Carti show to look cute; you come to survive. And the way the mosh pits were moshing, I was terrified that some of them wouldn’t make it! It was all love, but I was a nervous wreck! No one was the wiser, because I kept it cute. But my mind was racing. “Baby, don’t do it!” “Think about your tibia, your fibula and clavicle, chile!” and “Is he okay? Thank you Jesus.” Those phrases were on repeat – and I had the nine and the one dialed on my phone. I was shook! Mainly because I’m not used to seeing us engage in that type of concert shenanigans.