I Met Salt-N-Pepa

This actually happened over a month ago. And I'm just now getting around to writing about it--not cuz I've been too busy (though I have been)--but because I just didn't know if I wanted to write about it. See, I wanted to be able to get on the blog and scream across cyberworld: "I MET SALT-N-PEPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!" and be so hype about it that yall would hear it through your computers or phones or whatever it is you're using to peep our website. But I haven't been hype about it. I've been down-right ambivalent about it if not a teensy bit depressed. But I wanted to finally share a lil something about the experience cuz it meant a lot to me to be able to meet them, and I just want to show them respect--as women, as artists, as performers, as pioneers in the male-dominated world/business of hip hop.

So it all started cuz my husband has been trying to figure out ways to show me how much he loves me. It's a long story that I ain't getting into, but our relationship is currently on the mend. So he told me for my birthday (and his), he wanted to take me to the Fresh Fest concert when it rolled through Philly at the end of Feb. So if ya don't know what Fresh Fest is, it's a concert tour featuring a bunch of hip hop and R&B artists from back-in-the-day: Biz Markie, Slick Rick, Rob Base, Force MD's, Whodini, and Salt-N-Pepa. Here's the flyer:

So being ol-heads and ol-school, it was right up our alley, and me and my husband joined all the other nostalgic old folks getting out for the night, running away from jobs, kids, adult responsibilities, and just remember what it was like to be a kid listening to this music. Well, I almost didn't go this concert cuz I got mad at my husband, but in the end, he talked me into going though I was still mad. And really, I just wanted to see a good show. And definitely the main reason I went is because i wanted to see Salt-n-Pepa.

You have to understand, I would not be a spoken word poet if it weren't for Salt-N-Pepa. It all started way back then, in the 1980's, when hip hop was all over the radio and kids were poppin-n-lockin in the streets and having freestyle battles in cafeterias and on buses. And the gender wars played out for me even back then. Because I used to have these rhyme battles with Derrick on the high school baseball team bus (I was the team manager) and we'd be battling and he'd give up but make it seem like he was doing me a favor b/c I was female. But I'd keep coming at him and hard, and I was only able to believe I could do it and trash talk and go home and write more rhymes because I was such a HUGE fan of Salt-N-Pepa. "A Salt with a Deadly Pepa" was the FIRST hip hop album I ever owned yall! I looked up to them sooo much as a young woman trying to be assertive and unapologetic and strong and uncompromising, especially in male domains. To this day, when I'm imagining myself onstage, I think about Salt-N-Pepa and how they held themselves. I owe a lot to the trail blazing they did in the early years of hip hop as it became more commercial and accessible via radio.

So my husband got us seats in the 3rd row on the floor. We were right in front of the stage. And I was happy and content with that. But then--and I can't divulge the details of how it all went down--he had connections that set things up so we would be able to go backstage. And he did all of that so that I could meet Salt-N-Pepa. He thought that would be the greatest gift he could give me--to give me the opportunity to meet these women--including Spinderella, I don't want to forget her!--who were such a big inspiration in my life. And at first, when I found out I would be going backstage to meet them, I was happy. But then happiness became anxiety. And then I actually started getting nervous. And I even started to tear up a little. And I was getting angry at myself b/c it seemed like such a groupie way to be about it--What was wrong with me?! Why couldn't I just enjoy the moment and be happy?! But nothing is ever that simple for me. I always feel compelled to ask myself, "What does it all mean?"

So I decided that if this was my one moment to meet Salt-N-Pepa, then I was going to tell them what a huge inspiration they had been to me. I was gonna just tell them. And I could feel myself getting emotional, but I didn't care. I just kept thinking, when will I ever get a chance like this again?

So we were whisked backstage, and when I saw the small group of people waiting to take their pictures with Salt-N-Pepa, I knew this was supposed to be one of these assembly-line photo opp sessions--that we were just supposed to jump in line, take a picture when it was our turn, and keep it moving. And I almost let it be that. But when I got up there I just started talking. I started spilling my guts to Pepa first, then somehow I found myself rambling on to Salt--and I ignored Spinderella altogether, OMG!, because I didn't know how much time I had before people waiting to take pictures would get impatient. And I know I told them that they were an inspiration to me and that I wouldn't have ever believed in myself as a poet if it weren't for them blah blah blah. And don't know if I made sense. And as much as I rambled and talked so fast, I suddenly stopped to take the picture b/c I was afraid people would start yelling at me. *sigh* Anyway, here's one picture:

Don't I look like I'm in a daze. OMG, I felt sooo stupid. And I felt sad and dissatisfied afterwards. And there was this part of me that wished my husband had never set it up at all. That I simply went to the concert, shouted out the lyrics to my favorite old-school rap songs, danced in the aisles, and had lots and lots of fun. Instead, in the days that followed, I agonized and second-guessed. And processed . . .

It's been over a month, and I finally feel like I've processed enough to share. And I know I'm a goofball. And I think too much. But that's the only way I'm able to feel deeply and to understand my own place in this world and be comfortable with it. I had a great opportunity to meet these women who have been role models to me since I was a teenager. I got to tell them what their presence in hip hop and in the world has meant to me. And I hope I'm not that story about the crazy girl who rambled on and on in Philly while they were on the Fresh Fest tour. But if so, oh well. At least, they remembered me.

Special thanks to my husband who has been trying really hard to find different ways of showing me he loves me. No one else in the world would have thought about giving me this gift because no one else in the world knows me as well as he does.

Sending you all love always,
Michelle