Ok, look, I am a white girl who drives a MiniCooper. I'm not your typical HipHop-aterian, but hear me out. Driving home tonight I was listening to The Heat on my Sirius Satellite Radio and a bunch of Jay-Z's songs came on. While I knew many of them, I couldn't rightly sing all the words as I had so gloriously done just hours before while kicking ass and taking names in Rock Band (namely, Eye of the Tiger). But as I bounced about the Mini singing as many of the words as I could, I realized I actually really enjoy Jay-Z more than most Hip Hop artists. He has pimp style, also spits tight rhyme, and never leaves me hanging, for sheezy. One of his rhymes in particular tonight from the song My President is Black (Remix) made me hit rewind: "My president is black, in fact he's half white. So even in a racist mind, he's half right." Cliche? Yes. Fun to sing out loud when you're zipping around 295? Yes.
The problem came later. No, not during the one of ten thousand Lil' Wayne digital remixes that followed. It was actually during a moment of silence while folding laundry after I got home. As I hummed My President is Black in my head and tapped my foot next to Charlie's ear, it hit me. This realization would be much bigger than the earlier realization of realizing that I actually enjoy Jay-Z. This realization would cause previous realizations to be questioned. It was one of the worst realizations I've had in a long time.
Jay-Z is married to Beyonce.
Need I say more?