don daddy

missing fathers do their bit when they come around.  maybe a guilty conscience.  when my dad did it, he did it big.  at 13, he asked where in the world i'd like to- 

"jamaica, pop."

kept his word and we went.  i got away with that shit, yo.  pop bringing me to jamaica.  besides getting island diarrhea, buying a machete, 2am phone calls from island janes, and a young friend who liked to sing ritchie valens songs, i was all about picking up tracks to bring stateside.  not like i was a producer, i just liked my walkman more than clean underwear. walking into a store, "mark, what music would you-"

"all of this," as i pointed to a rack of tapes.

spoiled again with 6 tapes of unreleased stateside hype.  i was popular in my head for a long time after that.  every parent does their thing in tryin' to show love to their kid.  my dad had his moments.  i don't have any photos from this caribbean excursion, but i still have ninjaman.

i think he had a feeling about some other stuff, too.  dad died 9 months later.

jamaica, 1992

mr. mark still thinks he's popular.  ninjaman tells him so.