Thanks, L. L. Cool J, for waking me up to the truth

By Jennifer Cranney

November 3, 2004 | The other morning I had the television on while I was getting ready for my day. I had it tuned to VH1's Storytellers program, which was featuring L.L. Cool J's biography. I must say I'm not a huge fan of L.L. I am pretty sure he's a tough guy who thinks he's great and special and not to mention the sexiest man alive. I am not quite sure what gave that away, maybe it's the way he licks his lips at least 20 times in any given music video, while standing topless in an ocean of thin, beautiful, women who happen to be crawling all over him. But we should still give him props, after all his music is classified as rap, which is pretty popular. Although it does seem a sort of wanna be bad ass, I mean Momma did say knock you out.

Although I am not a fan of Todd Smith, or L.L. as many know him, I continue to listen to his story. It turns out that he grew up without a father and began his music career as a young man. When all of a sudden women, drugs and alcohol were at his beckon call, he fell into the fabulous life of stardom.

He had many enemies who mocked his music, just as I mocked him. Many of places that he went he was booed and made fun of. He retreated to his grandparents' house for solace and a breathe of fresh air. When he came back to the spotlight he brought his own grandmother's words which would be his first hit song in months, "Momma Said Knock You Out."

As I go to apply mascara to my short, straight eyelashes I am struck with an overwhelming love for Todd. He is a real person. He is a human being just like me, just like anyone. I can't believe I made fun of a song that he made because of advice his grandmother gave him. Let him create and do what he wants with his feelings and with his music. Who the hell am I to make fun of him for his sincerity and individuality. Am I the queen and ruler of all coolness? I think not.

What the hell is the point to all of this blabber about my new found love for L.L. Cool J.? Well, let's say VH1 did a biography about every person in the world. We would have cool jams and meaningful music conducting the soundtrack of our lives. Something that would explain ourselves to the world. All of the good and all of the bad. We would have all of it out there, and maybe we would understand each other. We would better understand why we chose to do the things we do.

Why we wear mismatched socks, why some girls are able to pee standing up, why L.L. thought he would scare off his rivals when he sang a song about his momma, why our reaction to an argument is to hit instead of talk calmly, why we run from our problems instead of boldly face them.

When lives are built on lessons taught by imperfect teachers, perfection is simply not attainable. And since none of us are anything other than this, how is it that we can justify expecting perfection from everyone else? Without different people, different outlooks, different societies, there would be one person doing it "the right way." And that would get pretty damn boring. I quote from the movie Angus: "If you're normal, then what is every other person in this room?"

NW
MK