Curren$y in the PRC BLC

He was in Seattle for a show earlier this year so he must have picked one up from one of the stores around here.  Pretty dope!  Thanks for the love, Curren$y.

Full video:

[4:11-4:25]

BUT that did not stop us from having a fun and successful Dunk Xchange over at Pravda Studios.  Music, fashion, and of course, shoes (there was a Nike Mag sighting!)  Wrapped up by a dope performance set by RAZ.  Looking forward to next year!

Starting last week, SleeplessCollective and Resident Media Social Atmospheres put together a monthly event up on Capital HIll that fills the void. Held at Havana, the event (known as SWAY) is described as:

“A fun dance party with an openstyles (allstyle dance) competition baked-in that gives individual dancers an opportunity to showcase their talents. Each month we’ll feature new dancers who are killin’ it in the scene and allow YOU to decide who to crown.”

PRC was honored to be invited as a sponsor and we responded to the call by creating a one-of-a-kind tee for the nightly prize featuring embroidered winning content on the front sponsor logos on the back.

The August winner ended up being always-in-the-mix Jessica Hu (Jess2Sick!) Congratulations to Jessica and all the participants in this month’s battle. The event will continue every month on the last Wednesday. Each time out PRC will create a new prize shirt for the winner. Can’t wait for the next one!

Still of Jess2Sick on her way to smoking the other seven entries.

More pics of cool people:

Andy (a.k.a. Tiger Claw) in the Super Seattle World tee.

Brothers Bradford (left) and Barry (right) in the Cloud and Varsity snapbacks and the red and black Lights Out Shades.

By Kent Nerburn

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.

It was a cowboy’s life, a life for someone who wanted no boss.

What I didn’t realize was that it was also a ministry.

Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, and made me laugh and weep.

But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night. I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partyers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.

Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.

But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation.

Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.

So I walked to the door and knocked. “Just a minute”, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80′s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knick-knacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

“It’s nothing”, I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.”

“Oh, you’re such a good boy”, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked,

“Could you drive through downtown?”

“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”

I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

“I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.”

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You have to make a living,” she answered.

“There are other passengers”.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware – beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

I gotta say, having a broken dominant hand has really slowed down my life in a very enriching way.  Yes, tasks take longer to complete and some things I really just cannot do.  But I’ve tapped into an area of my thoughts that rely on patience, acceptance and understanding to get me by.  This is important because I’m beginning to see that the world around me really is just how I perceive it to be.  Not in a way where I can simply imagine something and that becomes my reality, but from an emotional standpoint; I believe that things happen for a reason so it stands to reason that acceptance and positive outlook can really make a difference in terms of how one responds to life’s challenges.  By taking the time to really think about our thoughts and actions, life can be so much more enriching and fulfilling.

As a follow-up and related thought, I just read an article  about the most recent shooting homicide in Seattle this year.  Details aside, I was struck by how reckless and quick the shooter(s) seemed to be willing to shoot into a crowd of people, with complete disregard for themselves or other people.  Afterwards, I ran across a different article about how meditation increases brain size and can reduce stress, increase clarity of thought and help stay focused.  Not exactly the newest of information, but I took this as a gentle reminder to continue practicing how to think and respond in calm, positive ways.  I’ll let you come up with your own conclusion about the shooting and how we can protect ourselves, our loved ones and our community from such tragedies…but at the very least, I hope the prospect of an open, collected and focused mind appeals to you.  And if not, there is a link between meditation and longer, more healthy life.  That’s an idea I don’t think anyone would disagree with.

So thank you, G.A.J. and may you eternally exist in cyberspace.

The most disappointing thing about this is I will miss out on summer basketball and probably most water activities.  Still, I have had time to reflect on what happened and why it happened, and I think Life is trying to give me some sort of sign: think before you act.  Or punch pillows.  I don’t know.  Either way, it reminds me of something one of my professors said during a lecture about Entrepreneurship Principles: “Nothing is ever as good, or as bad, as it seems”.  So with today being the official first day of Summer, all I can think is this can only be the best summer yet.