Transcend. Eminence. Renaissance.

I’m a Renaissance man.

A man who stands alone in the calm streets of South Shore.

I’m classic like the Lincoln and a Buick; elegant, sharp, well rounded, coasting smooth near the coast tip on the Southside of Chicago where everything was lit; even a kiss from the luscious lips of my high school girlfriend leaves an illustrious trace marks I allured.

I attended South Shore High, she attended Kenwood High. I was a standout great of ‘88, she was a fly babe who was fine with class of ‘89.

The level attraction was high, her style is impeccable. The size of her melanin thighs, her beautiful brown eyes, are easily noticeable like flying a colorful kite over the skyline of downtown Chicago.

It’s the fall of ‘85, a beautiful time to mesmerize what I see outside.

The leaves are fallen, the Autumn dawn is exciting but oh so daunting. College campuses are back in full capacity, the arousing aroma of pumpkin spices eroded over the windy chill of ices; craze fans jovially chanting “Da Bears” for a near infallible season for the Chicago Bears, sipping sweet tea watching the sweetness of Walter Payton glides down like a surf on the icy turf field of Soldier Field.

Sweet home Chicago, the cupid arrows touches the sweet spot in the O zone.

This is more than a love affair, this is a metron of attraction of an affair with a great affection.

As the city loved Mayor Harold like the soulful taste of Harold’s chicken, life couldn’t taste even better living in a basement of a home, listening to the sounds of music called House where the beats are highly tech and bappin’ and the bass is booming from the warehouse basement.

There’s no place like home, where I can lace my Nike Forces to walk this way to take flight over like Jordan.

At last, Chi city, we were the last city crack was stack for a deal throughout the streets, but the epidemic effect didn’t sneaked up behind our backs, decades later our blackness didn’t crack, we are vibrant stronger together.

As I reflect the year of 1985, we were still making it through Reaganomics, the superheroes of our community were illustrious to be highlighted in a comic book; this was more than a cosmos, this was divine time to remember what was alive, and reminisce the memories how special Chicago in ‘85 was story of a lifetime for the rest of our lives.

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