We just got back in the house from a Parliament Funkadelic concert. Shawn bought us tickets weeks ago--I had never seen P-Funk perform and he felt like--in order for us to stay married--I needed to attend the show.

Shawn is a true P-Funk fan--he's seen George Clinton perform in concert about fifty-leven times!  Me, I'm good with listening to the $hit on CD--there's nothing I hate more than getting all dressed up to go to a concert and then walk out smelling like I been smoking weed for 8 hours straight!

So we hired a sitter--wrote her a hot check--and headed to downtown Minneapolis to see P-Funk perform at 1st Avenue.  Now for those of you who don't know, 1st Avenue is the club where Prince and Morris Day battled it out in the movie Purple Rain!  It's a vintage concert hall that still allows you to (and highly recommends that you) smoke weed on a regular basis.

We get in side the venue and P-Funk had already taken the stage, we missed the first 10 minutes of the show, but the guy at the front desk informed us that we shouldn't worry; because they'd be on stage for "five hours performing".  What the hell? How is George Clinton going to perform for five hours? He's got to be at least 106 years old.  I can't stand there and watch him perform for 5 hours--that'd take all the life out of me.  And I ain't but 36 years old...

I look up on stage and there is George Clinton, in all his glory, looking like a scary Santa Claus!  I mean he's this old jolly fat guy with a gray beard, except he's got five different colors in his hair--like a bad extension from a beautician who was either on acid or had an ax to grind!  There were purple highlights, blue extensions in the form of braids, a big fuzzy patch of orange hair that looked like monkey grass--he was fit to be tied!  But the people loved him--and he sang his heart out.

The stage was riddled with old dudes from the original P-Funk days that were jammin' like they were still in their prime.  The dude in the band who has the diaper on--he's still alive! And he's still wearing that damn pamper. Although now it's more functional than decoration.  He paused during the middle of a song and stood still for three or four minutes. I turned to Shawn and told him, "I know that look. That old dude just went poopy in his pamper. That's the same look Andrew has when he's going potty in his diaper!"  But he never missed a beat. He left the stage for a few minutes and I'm sure somebody backstage changed his ass, put some butt paste on him, along with a fresh diaper, and he was back in time to sing lead vocals for "Knee Deep"!

Let me tell y'all something, music is universal--I found that out tonight. I thought "Man, this is gonna be George Clinton, a black concert filled with black folks..."  Shittttttttt! Let me tell y'all something, for every black person there, there were 20 white people.  It was so many white folks up in 1st Avenue, I thought that George Clinton was opening up for either Bruce Springsteen or Elton John or somebody!  And these white folks knew every word to every song that Parliament sang.  They were throwing up the P-Funk signs and er'rething!  They were jammin'!

I am talking the most white collar professional guy who sits at work in his cubicle and never talks to another human being was at this concert, shouting obscenities, passing his blunt around for er'rebody to smoke it--and jammin' to the P-Funk funky rhythms!

And white folks are so polite.  I've never been to a concert filled with white folks before.  Whenever they passed us they said "Excuse me." and waited for us to "Excuse them..." so they could pass by. Whenever they fired up a joint to smoke, they were kind enough to offer us a hit. I told Shawn "We gotta get us more white friends. Black folks would never buy a joint, bring it to a concert and offer it to people they don't know!  We're much MUCH too selfish for that!"

I must admit I had a blast!  While on stage, George and the P-Funk All Stars allowed local singing sensations "The Steele Family" to come up and perform with the band.  Javetta, Jearlyn, JD and all the other brothers were there and rocked the house!  The Steele Family, I don't know if you guys have ever seen them perform, but they are so talented and man, they are the best performers I've ever seen live. But they do gospel, so I was surprised to see them performing with George Clinton! Man, those Steele sisters and brothers got up on that stage and they rocked the house y'all!  They were hitting notes I didn't even know existed...

And some of the white folks who were near us tapped us on the shoulder and asked us, "Is that Javetta Steele and the Steele Family?" I shook my head "yes", then I leaned over to Shawn and said "What do I look like? The black folks identification committee?  He asked me like I should know those black folks, just cause I'm black.  I should have told him, 'No, that's Latoya and Janet Jackson.  And Michael and Tito are on the other side of the stage singing bass and baritone!'"  We both busted out laughing; I'm such a smart a$$!

Then, Shawn decided he would walk around to see the famous club--I had been there before--so I just stayed there to hold our spots!  These two guys came over and tried to "holler at your girl".  He wanted to get my name, rank and serial number--I tried telling this snagged toothed fool that my HUSBAND was somewhere in the vicinity; but he was too busy getting his mack on to hear me.  I had gotten real tired of him trying to put his hands on me and spitting in my face while trying to recite those weak a$$ rhymes of his... so I finally laid it all out for him, I told him, "Look, bruh, my husband just paid the mortgage--and all the rest of the bills that go along with the 3 bedroom 3 bathroom house that we live in. He just gave me an allowance and had some work done on my car. Unless you gonna come with something better--step off--cause I ain't moving back in the house with my momma cause you wanna get fresh with me.  Now back the hell up before I brake your hand off.  Cause you putting my lifestyle at risk right now--and I can't have that."

We had to leave at half time though, we couldn't stay for the whole concert.  See, 1st Avenue ain't got no damn chairs. You gotta stand up the whole time--and my black a$$ is too old to stand up for five hours unless I'm in a line to get my credit cleared or to see Oprah--those are the ONLY TWO THINGS I'm going to stand in line for (Shawn says he'll stand in line for five hours for free cheese--high as groceries are--a big a$$ block of cheese can hold us until next pay day!).  My feet hurt now--feel like these jokers are bleeding.  I told Shawn the next time we go there, I'm going to bring a lawn chair and camp out like we're at an outdoor pavilion or an amphitheater. 

I'm taking my black a$$ to bed now--my feet hurt from standing, my a$$ hurts from dancing and my head hurts from the second hand contact (and we ain't even gonna mention the fact that when we talked UP TO THE VENUE, we passed the tour buses and both of 'em smelled like they were cooking marijuana in a hot-wok with soy sauce!)...