Friday, January 16, 2009
Combat Jack Gets His Martha Stewart On!
First of all, [||] for this whole post, just in case. Long and short of it, last year I brought a two family townhouse in the Crown Heights section of Brooklyn. When me and my family moved in, and having a gang'a kids (3 going on four), me and wifey didn't know jack about home decorating so we just put shit any effin where it fit. One'a my homies who works in television was outta a job and in looking for one, found a post on craigslist offering a free televised home makeover to whoever qualified. On a whim, I responded. Soon after, I got a response from a rep from HGTV (Home and Garden Television ) who told me about this new show they were working on. I was informed that the channel had taken one of their star designers Genevieve Gorder from the show "Trading Places" and blessed her with her own joint called "Dear Genevieve". So they send some reps over to my spot, just to see if our shit was legit and weren't living too deep in the "hood" and soon after, out of 60,000 families, we were informed that we made the cut for the first episode. Even though we never ever watch HGTV,we were all more than a little excited. Free shit? Televison? Let's do the damn thing!
The producer of the show was excited as well, and being that this was a first episode, he let me know that although they were working with a budget of $5k, they were gonna open the check book on this baby, what with wanting to make a good first impression and all. He let me know that they were gonna have an entire crew up in my piece for an entire week, film us during the entire process, sorta like "The Real World", but without the drama, at one point, we'd have to move out so they could get to work, and on the final day, we'd be moving back in, all surprised and shit and on camera. On day one, like at 6am, my door bell rings and there's like 30 effin white people standing outside my door, ready to wreck shop. These cats descended on us so with the quickness that I didn't have a chance to relocate my stash of "bud" and haven't been able to find it ever since. Before they started filming, I had to pull my sons to the side and threaten to whup ass if they decided it would be cute to get out of pocket on camera, you know, just in case one'a them wanted to get back at me on national tv for some shit I did to them in the past that they didn't like. So we meet Genevieve, who was mad cool, and the camera starts rolling. Like a therapist, Genevieve starts asking us what wasn't working in our space and for the next 5 days, it's like insane cause I have people I don't know going through all types of my shit, I'm talking really tearing down, moving, tossing and breaking up shit. Plus, there's like trucks, vans and a trailer parked outside my shit 24/7, tents, flood lights, loudspeakers, the whole kit and kaboodle. Shit was so ostentatious that some of the lil' kids that live on our block kept asking me, in between takes, whether Spike Lee was working on his next joint up in my piece. Plus, wifey and I were more than a lil' nervous 'cause we live in a neighborhood where randomly, especially on Labor Day, gunshots can clearly be heard from my window, so a camera crew, mad white people camping out on our property and a trailer really put our shit on blast. And you know how niggas get when they see someone else's shit in the hood on mad display. I'm saying.
Anyways, on the final day, we get to see the results and to her credit, Genevieve did her effin thing. Our shit is mad laced, what with candelabra's, pieces of art, sculptures and all types of other items that I would have never ever conceived of buying. Wife and kids are happy, and I'm feeling plush and luxurious in my home these days. Our episode aired on January 1st, right after the Rose Bowl Parade, further putting our shit on maximum blast. Now, my father-in-law is giving me shit about why I'm tryna' sound all white on tv cause I don't sound like that in person, the neighbors two doors down from us stay reckless eyeballing my wife and not talking to us on account of them hating more than a bit, also, last week, when I stepped out to grab some shit from the bodega up the block, three shady looking niggas was standing across the street, scoping my shit out and when one'a them saw me and was like "Yo Mister, that's the crib that had got that makeover with that white lady on tv?" I curtly responded "No" and kept it moving.
So here's the first episode of "Dear Genevieve" featuring yours truly and family. It's a bit long (@ 20 mins) , so I won't blame you for not watching the full piece. Looking back though, I'm still tryna' figure out which one'a those lil' crew fucks made off with my stash.