What I Learned: October 2

This week, I hangout with 13 year old sneakerheads, celebrate my mom’s birthday and put my hat in the running to go back to school.

What is even happening


We load in and load out just as quickly for an event called Sole Exchange, where kids far younger than I am make money selling sneakers that I can’t afford…because they make money from buying and selling things.

On a strictly basic level, it’s brilliant. On a strictly, you can’t take it with you mentality, it’s stupid and wasteful. An entire generation of kids are basically spending their money on sneakers that they don’t plan on keeping because they know someone WITH money will buy them and thusly continue to fuel the collector fire. They don’t have to work a strictly nerd job the way the rest of us did because, hey, they’re collecting and flipping sneakers but on the other hand it’s like, what the hell?! Go work a retail gig and stop this shit. You can’t enjoy something sitting on the shelf unless it’s something like an heirloom or something that can inspire greatness. I don’t know. I mean I had to curtail my toy collecting because it was becoming counterintuitive to the creative process that it SHOULD be inspiring and taking up space.

<blockquote class=”instagram-media” data-instgrm-captioned data-instgrm-version=”4″ style=” background:#FFF; border:0; border-radius:3px; box-shadow:0 0 1px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.5),0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.15); margin: 1px; max-width:658px; padding:0; width:99.375%; width:-webkit-calc(100% – 2px); width:calc(100% – 2px);”>

<p style=” margin:8px 0 0 0; padding:0 4px;”> <a href=”https://instagram.com/p/73DiSdrLwM/&#8221; style=” color:#000; font-family:Arial,sans-serif; font-size:14px; font-style:normal; font-weight:normal; line-height:17px; text-decoration:none; word-wrap:break-word;” target=”_top”>Bros #selfie #marvel #marvellegends #grimreaper #tigershark #hashtagresponsibly #marvelcomics #toys #toyfury</a></p> <p style=” color:#c9c8cd; font-family:Arial,sans-serif; font-size:14px; line-height:17px; margin-bottom:0; margin-top:8px; overflow:hidden; padding:8px 0 7px; text-align:center; text-overflow:ellipsis; white-space:nowrap;”>A photo posted by @invisiblecircus on <time style=” font-family:Arial,sans-serif; font-size:14px; line-height:17px;” datetime=”2015-09-20T17:08:24+00:00″>Sep 20, 2015 at 10:08am PDT</time></p></div></blockquote>

I know damn well those toys won’t be valuable until WELL AFTER the projects they’re attached to take off, if they ever do, but that hoarder mentality coupled with the need to just feel like I have something you don’t have lololol makes you do silly things. I guess it’s the same with sneakers; you just can’t keep getting it them, letting them take space up and not appreciating the stuff as it lives with you.

This is a hustle and someone’s gonna get you quick.

That’s just incoherent jealousy on my part.

The Sole Exchange is a unique because they actually appraise and assess the sneakers as they’re brought in, checking their value against something like the sneaker kelly blue book; make those investments wisely and see your profits flourish.

It’s amazing really.

We make a link to potentially shoot an overnight shoot with the founder of It’s From The Sole This will change my heart and mind a little more; getting fed up with this empty shit.

I take a picture next to the Delorean from Back To The Future because it’s not like Comic Con isn’t happening in 10 days for me.

We wind up getting Buffalo Wild Wings and the experience is strange because the last time I went, it was on a failed one on one time with Waffle and as I downed my wings and Angry Orchard, my mind, try I might, drifts onto the fact that it’s now three and a half days without word from Waffle since that bizarre “I’m not sure I want to go to Tove Lo with you” text.

I wander into a very random Taste of France event where some guy I’ve never heard of blasts the hell out of some EDM and I lose about ten minutes watching before wandering off when Danny Briliant shows up.

From there, I wind up in Midtown Comics and of course, buy more comics because of course I do.


Sunday back in the saddle where a debate about the use of the word nigga basically tips me over the edge.

Don’t use it.


It’s a trash thing to do.

Rappers who lean heavily on it to me show little control lyrically and don’t understand it’s origins and before you argue “Oh its the one that ends ER is the bad one” try this on; it’s all bad. It’s designed to demean and strip a person of their humanity. “Oh, it’s a term of endearment.” Where!? Did your grandma pick your nickname and go, you know what, I meant to call you my nigga but there were so many OTHER kids with that nickname you got stuck with the one you have now.

If musicians spent fifteen minutes researching their influence and the weight behind the word, they’d eliminate it, slowly but surely, if anyone paid attention to what it does to a person, it’d disappear quickly.

It just sounds ignorant as hell, it’s rude but that’s just me.

It makes my skin crawl but the fact is, the only way to change things is to start them organically ourselves.

Wind up watching John Tucker Must Die because my crush on Sophia Bush is serious, followed by Save The Last Dance and now I’m half looking at Banksy Does New York because I want to make a cool documentary and need to do my research.

safely assume a lot happened.


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