Tales From the Hilltop
An intelligent, yet Devil's Advocate view of the world

Episode Zero: The Story of Our Hero…

OK, I know, I know…..how late is this, right? And I also know what you’re thinking:

“What’s the difference of this crazy asshole having a blog and the other 800 million crazy assholes with blogs?”

You know what: right now, I honestly don’t have an answer for that yet: you’ll have to read and make your own conclusions. So, at the advice of a few people, I’ve decided to not let my thoughts go by the wayside anymore, and before this Spurs/Jazz game puts me totally to sleep, I’d give an intro to who am I, just in case you’re still asking.

So, where do I start? I guess with my name: Eumir G. Brown. I say “G” because I don’t know you that well, and you don’t know me either to even want to take sh0ts at the name. You’ll miss every time….trust me.

OK, so “Eumir” is apparently Arabic, meaning ruler. Guess pops might’ve been on to something there. Good thing he took the lead in the ‘naming of the kids’ department. If it was up to moms, I’d be Jeremiah (Jeremy for short) and my sis Naja would’ve been Tiffany. No disrespect to moms or to the Jeremiahs of the world, but Eumir is pretty distinguished. I mean, think on it: how many “Eumir”s YOU know? I though so…..cool points for the Rev.

Oh, did I mention: I’m a PK, meaning Preacher’s Kid. You know the stigma that goes with that, right? (That’s another episode for another day). Let’s just say the majority of it is true. At least during my childhood. I was a FORCE to deal with, sometimes. But much respect goes to Moms & Pops. They held me check when I needed it. Thank God, too. I’d probably be just another statistic without it.

I live in a city called Wilmington, Delaware. It’s not a bad place. Actually, it’s a pretty good place to raise a family in (depending on which side of Pennsylvania Ave you live on) But this city is pretty much the epitome of the whole state of DE: small. I mean, everyone knows everyone. That’s bad, especially when people are trying to be man-whores, gangsta rappers, and everything else. Also,  because this isn’t a major city, it can’t really start big things, like a professional sports team. I mean, we have the Wilmington Blue Rocks;  but honestly, how many times are you going to see a minor-league baseball team, regardless of how many titles they’ve won (none of which is within the last 10 years)?

Before I die, if I hit enough lotteries and kidnapped some investors Taliban-style, that would be my ultimate goal; to have a pro team here. Don’t get me wrong, I love those Philly squads the local paper roots for, but if I can get the NBA to create the Wilmington (or even Delaware) Emperors, (ok, we need a better name, but for the sake of argument, let’s call it that) I’d probably burn my Sixers jersey.

As of this time, I’m 27 years of age, though I’m told I have the mentality of a 52-year-old man. I guess that’s cause a lot of the people my age I know have this thing where they insist on remaining 19-22 till they’re 40. Not me. I embrace getting older and wiser. The way I see it, if mentally I’m older than my counterparts, then I can thrive in this world better using that wisdom while everyone else is just treading water. I don’t know: I’m just not even sure what constitutes as me being mentally older than everyone anyway….the fact that I think Hip-Hop has actually regressed in the last decade, or that I wouldn’t vote for Obama solely on the basis of ‘he’s black, I’m black, and so I must vote for him’ (and back him on EVERYTHING he’s says like 90% of Black America is doing, unfortunately), or that I believe that questioning religion is not so much of a blasphemous thing when it’s supported by reason. That doesn’t seem like maturity: it just seems like applying common sense to life. But, oh well.

Oh, I LOVE music. I think we all do. It’s like math: try as you might, you really can’t escape it in daily life. Watch a TV show, background tracks are there. Call a hotline or even go in a business elevator…it’s there.  I love a lot of genres: Hip-Hop is my native tongue (of course), but Symphonic music moves my soul, as do Rock, Jazz, Gospel, Electronica, Country, Opera, Musical Stage. I love it all. So much so, that I play it, one a couple different instruments, and have been since I was 9.

These instruments include Trumpet, French Horn, and Mellophone (and don’t worry if you don’t know what it is: picture a big trumpet that sounds a little deeper….aw hell, just look it up.). Then, I joined a few marching bands while in school, both middle & high school as well as my alma mater, Delaware State.  And I developed a love for band so much, that I kind of self-taught myself how to actually write it in musical notation for bands….thus “Arranger E” was born. Now I write music – and announce halftime shows – for Lincoln University’s Orange Crush Marching Band. Pretty sweet, too. And to not make a total mockery out of my degree, I work mainly for a Student Loan lender…but I won’t say who.

I live with my 2nd brother. Technically, we’re not related, but we’ve been tight for the past 20 years, and as most of you know, you just don’t have life-long friends that long. So, we made a pact: that when I walked the stage and out of Dover with my degree in Finance & Banking (which is funny in itself, considering my musical background), that we’d get a bordello….I mean, apartment for a while (*winks*). Pretty nice. Let me tell you: most of you know this already, but for the ones that have yet to enjoy it but it feel DAMN good to pay own bills, call your own shots, and make all the noises you want at 3 AM without having to sneak in and out of mama’s house.

Oh, yeah. I’m not the heart-throb I used to be (lol), but somehow, God has put a very lovely lady in my life. I’ll call her “Miss G”, to avoid me getting cursed out later for saying I put her out there. Seven years, people (on and off, anyway. On for the last 4)…that’s good stuff right there.

So, there you have it: me summed up in about 1200 words. I think this Episode separated my blog from about 250 million other assholes out there. Let’s see how long it takes for that number to come down to zero.

While I can’t promise sparks shooting off the pages you read, (and hopefully laugh, cry, or even curse at the words) I can only promise a few things about this blog:

1) I didn’t go to school and plunge myself 30K into debt to write like I never passed 7th grade, so this will be as cohesive as possible. AnD nO tYPIng liKE I’M oN fAcEbOOk.

2) No self-serving entries (other than this one). This thing will be at how I think about this world and the ideas/movements and such in it, not about me over and over and over. Those blogs get stale as week-old donuts after a while.

If you can handle that, then you should be fine.

Welcome to the Hilltop….Enjoy Yourself!



3 Responses to “Episode Zero: The Story of Our Hero…”

  1. Ha, pretty interesting read. I live very close to Wilmington.

  2. Chip off the ol’block!!! POPS

  3. I know i’m late Bruh, so i’m catching up. Shout out to the Orange Crush, and Approaching Storm/Swarm!!

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