They say this cat Obama's a bad mother SHUT YOUR MOUTH!

It's taken less than a month for the Tru Gangsta to come out at 1600 P-Ave in the 202.

First, we've got local politicians all up in arms (maybe not the best choice of words for the East Side) because stores are selling t-shirts depicting the Prez like this:



Naturally, this story is from Channel 7 Eyewitness News, long prone to a fascination with pistol-packing punks:

British agent James Bond likes his martinis shaken, not stirred and is armed with a license to kill. The super cool secret spy also has a reputation as a ladies' man.

It's not the kind of message Marguerite Jackson wants to send to the young men living in Buffalo's inner-city.

So when she spotted a t-shirt at a Buffalo store depicting President Barack Obama as James Bond, armed with a gun-shaped microphone and his wife posing seductively as a Bond Girl, Jackson was outraged.

"This picture looks like a prostitute. Okay?" said Jackson. "And that's total disrespect for our first lady."

Pastor Darius Pridgen of True Bethel Baptist Church agrees. He's asking members of his congregation to keep a look-out for the shirts at local stores.

"Ask store owners very nicely if they would take them down and not sell them anymore," Pridgen said. "If we find some store owners are adamant about it, we'll pick one at a time and protest those stores."

Pridgen and Jackson said any image showing President Obama holding a gun, sends a bad message to city youth.

"This is the first time they have seen a black man rise where he has," said Pridgen. "To now sell this, and if you wear it you ought to be ashamed of yourself."

I showed this to Eleanor just now, and she joined me in the eyeroll. They're taking these two just a little too seriously, she agreed.

"Come on, the first thing Obama said at one of the balls is how beautiful his wife is. These people are just up-tight because there may actually be sex in the White House for the first time in 40 years."

My eyes continued to roll as she caught the obvious error:

"Okay, the first presidential sex in the White House WITH THE FIRST LADY in 40 years."

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If the picture's not enough, we also have the First Gangbanga talkin' dirty in his debut post-election Youtube dance mix. Yes, that's really him speaking (the boring explanation is under the cut):

"Dan Tullis just called Joel Clark" (Watch on YouTube)

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Minds are like parachutes- if the cord breaks, you crash into a tree and die.

The call came less than an hour after Eleanor left for work, and as with many things around here, I was all kinds of clueless about it.

Em's art teacher was calling her at home on a weekend. Not totally unheard of- the kid is one of her star pupils- but the call was about something I knew nothing about.

An art show reception. At a local college- the one across the street from her high school- taking place in less than an hour.  Can I go, Dad, canIcanIcanI?

Of course, I replied. I have some other stuff to take care of, but I'll drop you off and get back in time to see whatever's in this show you're supposed to see.

::insert loud "wrong answer" buzzer and sound of my only child's crest falling::

Um, no. She needed me to go with her. Eventually, it developed in my slow-moving cranium that the artwork in question was hers.

Emotion ensued.  Finally, after convincing her that I simply hadn't understood the significance of the show at hand (I've dropped her off at that school for anime shows in the past, but this was not that), we set out- and got to see a collection of work by young artists that the college's art department head called "stunning," and with good reason.

Emily did not win any of the assorted awards given out at the reception. Except my much clearer understanding of her needs, and knowing I'd gained some up-close appreciation of her talent:



(That's a self-portrait, if you haven't met the grrl.)

We've long since made up,  but I really wonder sometimes why I can miss some of the most obvious things under my nose.