All about the Benjamins

It’s hard to admit it now but I used to heart P. Diddy. I thought he was the coolest person in the world. I know. How lame was I? But it’s true and I’m all about admitting my faults. It’s easy when you don’t have a lot of them.

I loved myself some Diddy for many reasons.

First of all, I’m a sucker for an underdog makes good story and Diddy definitely started out as an underdog. Raised in a Harlem housing project by his mom because his dad, who apparently was pals with Frank Lucas, the famous NY drug lord who brought cocaine into the US via soldiers caskets and was portrayed by Denzel Washington in the bio pic, American Gangster, was shot and killed in his car outside a party. His mom kicked ass to do right by Diddy on her own, and she did a fine job sending him to Catholic school and then on to Howard University for college. Combs is only a year older than me and when he was at Howard so was one of my best friends. I never met him but I always imagined that if Pat Noel and I had run into Diddy, we would have instantly been friends.

So, anyhow, underdog Diddy, pulls himself out of poverty and becomes this super successful record producer and artist. An American dream come true. I loved it.

And then there was his close friendship with Biggie which I thought seemed legit, not like some of the fake friendships you see in Hollywood, and well, everywhere. Diddy and Biggie seemed to really care for one another. And in the whole East Coast/West Coast rap war, I’m from Maryland so as talented as Tupac was, I had to side with the East. Plus compared to Suge Knight, Diddy was a kitten. Big Red, the character based on Suge in The Five Heartbeats (which by the way is an awesome movie), still gives me nightmares. People with no conscious are the scariest people of all. And I am 100% sure that Biggie AND Tupac were either both killed by Suge Knight OR are living on an island together with Elvis. No doubt about it. But anyhow, sorry for the tangent, my point was that on the East, Diddy was a pretty big deal and I bought into his fabulousness as much if not more than anyone.

I cried when Diddy and Faith Evans (who by the way is a million times cooler than Lil Kim) and Sting sang “I’ll be missing you” at the 1997 VMA awards.

I thought Farnsworth (I refuse to call him Fonzworth) Bentley was cool when he was hanging around Diddy and dancing with his umbrella in the Outkast videos.

I shook my tailfeathers with Diddy and Nelly and Murphy Lee. And I passed the Courvoisier to Diddy, Busta Rhymes and Pharrell. I thought the love between Diddy and J. Lo would last forever. Yes, Diddy cast a spell on the world and I had no problem falling under it but like most good things, it had to come to an end.

Slowly, the image I had of Diddy began to taint. He made up that lame slogan for the 2004 US presidential election, “Vote or Die”. What does that even mean? It was idiotic.

And then he took over “Making the Band” which just introduced the world to that nasty Aubrey O’Day from his failed band Danity Kane. Making skanky people like that famous was something none of us needed to be subjected to.

Then he was quoted at the Concert for Diana as saying that he felt a connection to Lady Di because she was royalty in her country just as he is royalty in his. Did I miss the part when someone crowned Diddy King of America?

And then finally, a friend of mine in NY told me a story about how he and Diddy worked out at the same gym and Diddy would troll the gym trying to get people to play pick up basketball with him and then cry when he got beat. Apparently none of the regular gym patrons wanted to play with him because he was such a sore loser. Image shattered.

So I wasn’t a fan anymore but I wasn’t embarrassed about my past love of Diddy. Until yesterday, when I learned that Diddy had an extravagant birthday party for his son, Justin, over the weekend that was filmed for MTV’s worst show ever, My Super Sweet Sixteen. A show that makes stars out of spoiled brats who yell at their parents and throw tantrums when the diamonds on their tiaras aren’t big enough. It makes Jersey Shore look worthy of PBS.

And what did young Justin get for his birthday besides a rocking televised party? A sports car called a Maybach that is apparently worth $360, 000! For a car. For a sixteen year old. Now, I am not one to tell people how to spend their money but there is a recession going on in this country right now. There are people without food or homes or jobs. Oh, and there’s also that little problem in Haiti. You know, where the whole county was demolished by an earthquake and no one knows how it’s ever going to be rebuilt? And while all this suffering is going on, Diddy is out there yelling “Look at me! I’m rich! I use money to wipe my ass!”. Unbelievable.

Like so many boys from my past, I can’t believe I ever gave that fool a second look.