The 2010 Year in Review: Where the Brothers Aint!

On more than one occasion the question has been raised to me, "Where do Black men hang out, because there never seems to be many when I'm out?" and my answer is the same each time…not where you are! We know where the brothers are; church, the local bars, strip clubs, the barbershop, jail chillin' on the block, but only a few of us can be caught slipping out-of-bounds. But you don't want to go where they are, because you're nothing like those "other" women who go the places they go, anymore.

A lot of yall are out there with your asses high, all high saddity and highfalutin, fronting hard, sipping a Cosmo with your pinky in the sky, happy to have entrée into a new tax bracket, living out your Sex and the City fantasy. Now you may come across a Brooks Brother Nigga every once in a while, but for the most part we're keeping it all the way real and would much rather be in a spot where we can fake it 'til we make it than be the ink blotch against a white canvas. That's just not our thing, we love to shine and there's no better place to shine than amongst the have-nots! Nothing strokes our ego like being able to show off what we have (and don't have) in front of those who really understand the need for materialistic ascension.

Now I know a few brothers have been hoodwinked by Tiger Woods and are trying to climb social ladders on the links, totally contrary to the place we've done battle and socialized since neighborhoods became the hood, the blacktop. So for these cats that sell out faster than Jay-Z shows at The Garden, it's nothing to see them in your trendy hotspot, but they don't want you…they want a White girl! And you don't want them either, they aren't real enough for you, you feel as though they've sacrificed much more of themselves than you have, so he's alright, but he's not real.

You play the bar tight with your pretty drink, pretty dress, shoes and bag to match, but you're pretty damn far from where you're really trying to be. You're not ready to give up on the Brothers just yet, but you just may be too far removed from the reality of meeting one that attracts you and matches the sensibilities you're manicured fingers are slowly losing a hold of. We're holding on to our "cool", still going to the spots Hot97 shout's out, hitting up the "Legends" concerts at BB Kings, while you're in the bar with an unpronounceable name with your ass all high, all high saddity and highfalutin, fronting hard, sipping a Cosmo with your pinky in the sky, happy to have entrée into a new tax bracket, but miserable that you're where the Brothers ain't!

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