It is the middle of the fall of 2014 and I’m walking out of the Fairmont Hotel in downtown Sacramento with my fourteen year old nephew. The night is cool and crisp as we make our way out of the front lobby to my car. As we walk and recount the night’s events, my nephew stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locked on a figure in the corner of the parking lot. He looks like he has seen a ghost. It is no ghost, it is MC Ride
Naturally my nephew is excited and wants to approach MC to ask for his autograph but I stop him…my mind is already beginning to race. I watch MC as he paces back and forth texting and making phone calls, evidently very “busy”. I begin to recount the past few years of Ride’s “antics” in music, things my young nephew would never pay any attention to or know about. I would’ve liked to give MC the benefit of the doubt but I also begin to play out the situation and my reaction if MC snubs my nephew. “Not tonight buddy, we will get his autograph another time”, I state as I lead my nephew in the direction of my car.
By the time we reach my car and begin the drive home, my nephew has forgotten about MC Ride. I haven’t. My nephew has moved on to talking about the latest Call Of Duty game and the guns he is close to unlocking. I nod my head and ask a few questions pertaining to Black Ops but my mind is elsewhere.
Mentally, I’m still back in the parking lot of the Fairmont, holding back a young fan from going and asking his music hero for their autograph (I know that most musicians are great with the fans and carry themselves in a professional manner). However, this is a guy who no shows concerts and who has slowly brought negativity and shame to a group that I once respected.