H-I-P. H-O-P. H-E-A-D.

...been since 1-9-8-3. Well, in my case, it was 1985. (But I couldn't resist throwing down the Jurassic 5 quote.) Although that's not exactly true either since my first genuine exposure to hip hop was accidentally seeing the Beastie Boys when they opened for Madonna on her Like A Virgin tour. (No, I'm not kidding. It's true! Horribly, irrevocably, true. Look it up!) So at age 17 I stood in Met Stadium with my mouth agape watching three unbelievably strident, skinny white boys leap around the stage screaming "You gotta fight! For your right! To paaaaaaar-tay!" What. The. Hell?! I had absolutely no idea what I was seeing. I hated it. All I was interested in was that idiotic material girl. Ahh, the 80s.

Of course 1986 brought the release of Raising Hell (Run D.M.C.) and the rest is hi(phop)story. To say a lot has happened in the genre since then is beyond understatement. And last night I had the privilege of listening to one of the veritable godfathers of hip hop, Chuck D, talk about it all at the Fitzgerald Theater for the last in The Current's Fakebook series. He is erudite and funny and as I sat up in balcony two I wished every person I know who turns up their nose when confronted with rap was there to hear him.

So. It's time I come out. I've been listening almost exclusively to hip hop for the last couple of years. Well, exclusively is a bit strong but at least to the point of annoying various friends and very probably my husband. I don't personally know many people who are fans so I've stumbled along in the dark eagerly following the bright lights of Wu-Tang Clan, Missy Elliott, Roots Manuva, Jurassic 5, the Beastie Boys, and Public Enemy (word); with side trips over to a bunch of the Frenchies ( like MC Solaar) and the Cubanos (like Orishas), Das/EFX and Mos Def; finally graduating to the likes of Common, Nas and Rakim.

I've made discoveries on film soundtracks. Most notably Wu-Tang and especially RZA after seeing Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai (Jim Jarmusch). Or I've fallen in love with a voice I've heard in some more accessible (to me anyway) band, like finding Chalie 2Na of Jurassic 5 doing vocals on a Gorillaz song.

But why the love? I realize a big part of it for me is simply words. I'm a reader. A lover of text and language and no one, no one, plays with words with such abandon as rappers. I can't help but make the very early connection to the first time wordplay made me laugh out loud and made the hair on the back of my neck stand up in the same way hip hop can: Amelia Bedelia books (Peggy Parish). (Oh, Chuck D! Tell me you loved them, too!) I know it's a cliché to cry poetry! about rap, it's been done, but only because it is often absolutely true.

Now I'm not talking about gangsta rap here (although there a few I find sort of humorous but most is nasty and pointless). I think a huge part of the bias against hip hop comes from the very unfortunate success of a few shallow pop/rap stars (I ain't hatin' I just heard better) who make way too much money and waaaay too much news. But look at any popular stars and you see the exact same thing. Madonna (there ya go). Britney. Lindsay. The rap/pop stars of the world are no different. We can't condemn all popular music because of a thin layer of whipped cream on top of the real deal.

Great art isn't going to be delivered into your lap with a pretty bow on top. You need to do the work to learn about it and rush out to meet it half way. Rap isn't easily accessible to some of us. Neither is opera.

Chuck D is an artist in every sense of the word; and he invented a few of his own. To hear him speak of music, art, politics, activism, his family (and his '94 Montero), and growing old and gettin' corny (own it!) and giving back was inspiring. He has stood his ground throughout his career and set an example for those coming up behind him and for us all.

Still dubious? I suggest taking a closer listen. So much of hip hop is just joyous. Smart. And some of the most fun you'll ever have. And if you doubt the talent of some of these guys...pick pretty much any rap and try to learn it. Try to deliver that flow with any kind of smooth coherence. It is daunting. And dang if you don't feel awesome when you finally get it!

Truthiness.

Truman Capote deserves credit for pretty much single-handedly inventing literary journalism. And re-reading In Cold Blood is reminding me of all the other books in this form that I love. I think authors like Joe McGinnis owe TC a huge debt. I very highly recommend McGinnis' The Miracle of Castel di Sangro. (A big shout out to Ivar Johnson, not a regular reader of 'novels and the like' who picked this up on a whim in an airport and broke down in tears over it-and it's mostly about soccer-on the flight. He gave me his copy.)

The same visceral vibe crosses over into a lot of historical fiction and a couple of my favorites in that realm include Pulitzer-prize winning The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay (Michael Chabon), Devil in the White City (Erik Larson), and a fabulous book based on the life of Virginia Woolf whose title is completely escaping me at the moment. (I just know this will be keeping me up tonight.) I had a copy signed by the author which in my excitement (and like an idiot) I lent to someone I didn't know very well; and alas... No doubt the title will hit me in the wee hours and I'll be up editing.

(And yes I was watching Stephen Colbert and blogging at the same time. I must earn some kind of special nerd patch for that, no?)