Old School House Head

After a week of 100 degree days and having my hair in a snatch-back, I have to admit I was not sure I wanted to attend the Chosen Few Picnic that was held last Saturday. Luckily my sense of nostalgia overtook my desire to stay cool and above the fray – I dove in with both feet – and I was not disappointed.

My first piece of advice is don't drive. Parking locations in the area were charging up to $20 a car and parking spaces were harder to find than gold nuggets out there. Travelling down Stony Island was like a funeral march. I was lucky to find the last legal parking spot on the street. I took the bus the rest of the way, carrying my portable chair on my shoulder.

This picnic is a merchandiser's bonanza – games, dolls, lights, gadgets, tee shirts, bootleg movies, bootleg music mixes, inflatable toys – it was all there for the offering to anyone who wanted it. I didn't buy a single thing going or coming, I wanted to take the whole experience in.

Once you get to the gate have your money out. I bought a ticket on line because I refused to have the police tell me as they had last year that it was too crowded to let one extra person go in – I was turned away before I even crossed Stony Island, and that was after buying my portable seat! I showed my on-line ticket and was ushered in without any problem.

As soon as I crossed the threshold I ran into people I knew. My lipstick was on a thousand faces – people I hadn't seen since I went to college, some I hadn't seen since I went to Kenwood – it was crazy! It was like having all your Facebook friends parade in front of you. I saw a brother I haven't seen since I was in Ms. Twine's class. I still can't believe he knew who I was, cause he doesn't look the same – he was a blond in grammer school.

If someone just came by and took a picture of the picnic, they'd think it was a refugee camp – tents everywhere - with some very satisfied refugees – the music was on point all day. Some of those songs I hadn't heard since 8^th grade! Every DJ who took the mike rocked the house. Who's selling the re-mix, because I want a copy....

I got back to business when I finally made it to the Obama tent, which was smack in the middle of everything as it should be. Do you think the President appreciates house music? He's got to, right? The tent was rocking. I didn't expect to see them there, so I was really shocked. The place was a natural, though, what better location to register voters? We need all the help we can get. They also have the best food – fruit, salad, baked chicken, and lamb kabobs that were just what the doctor ordered.

I went alone but I didn't leave that way – I gained a boatload of new friends, heard some mixes that took me all the way back to the house I grew up in – listening to the music of my life, and rocking to some grooves that will make you nostalgic for the old stomping grounds – the Warehouse, Sauer's, the Playground, the Underground, LaRay's, AKA's, Coconuts, and every college party from back in the day – when you could go to a party, have a good time, and come home to talk about it the rest of the night with your girls – that's what that afternoon brought back. It's sad that we can't have that anymore.