R.I.P. ODB

I know I'm a couple of days delayed on recognizing Dirt's death anniversary, please excuse my tardiness, my PC isn't exactly what you would call functional at this point. In any case, I did wanna take time out from all of the reviews, rants and writing to observe one of the most somber days in Hip-Hop.

November 13th, 2004 is a day when many fans of all that is special, brash and individual about Hip-Hop won't ever forget. The news broke late if I remember correctly. Two days before his 36th birthday Russell Jones would collapse at Wu-Tang's recording studio's in NYC and die. His mother, Cherry Jones would be the one to alert most media that night via statement about his untimely passing. I was shocked and saddened at the same time. I couldn't believe that in the midst of his release from prison and signing a new deal to Roc-A-Fella records the man that had come to literally symbolize the unexpectedness of a whole genre had passed on.

It would later be revealed through autopsy that a plastic bag filled with Cocaine (from my home state of Colorado no less) was discovered in ODB's stomach and combined with Tramadol the two drugs were what did in our favorite son of anarchy.

There are countless memories and stories that make ODB the legend he is and was....whether it was storming the stage at the Grammy's and giving an impromptu speech, receiving food stamps while driving to the welfare office in a limo, stopping his vehicle in the middle of busy New York city traffic to urinate, allegedly getting head in front of a crowded party or dead lifting a 1996 Ford Mustang to save the life of a 4 yr. old little girl, Dirt Dog was our favorite and no one will ever replicate his antics, his brazen courage or his honesty. Those of us that witnessed his short but dynamic career were blessed to know a man of many aliases. A man everyone that ever met had a story to tell about that would either make you bust out laughing hysterically or sit motionless in amazement. Dirt Dog was one in a million. A true breeder and lover of women, many in the media frown upon the fact that he left thirteen children here to fend for themselves without a father. To those that would attack Dirt along those lines I say you know nothing about him. He'll always be with those kids and he made enough good friends in this life to make sure that someone will always be looking out for them all. My only regret, as I'm sure is his, is that he won't be here in the physical to see them grow and develop.

His music was a reflection of his uninhibited personality and his true vocal genius. His rhymes dense and at times enigmatic, Big Baby Jesus was so undecipherable, yet so many felt his music. He was the voice of the pain that existed within the ghetto. It was through this "voice" that ODB found a way to relay idea's, stories and views. He was the down and out derelict whom the world flocked to hear and see. He was one of us, yet someone we marveled at as well. It was that crude, unapologetic nature that made him the ideal member of a group that defined unique, rugged and soulful street Hip-Hop in the 90's and beyond. We won't soon forget his countless contributions to the game and never will we sell him short of his considerable boulevard acumen or his worldly discernment. He was far from perfect, but he was a man that truly spoke his mind and called things just the way they were.....Old Dirty Bastard.

-BIG D O