It wasn't Errol Flynn. It was a cold day in '06. October 21, it might have been. Spike Lee in collaboration with the Jordan brand ushered in a limited release, NYC exclusive, collector's edition pair of sneakers. He appeared in three stores (if memory serves) across New York City, all in one day. Short, black Santa Claus. My friend and I camped out in line for two pairs, each $175, outside of Nike NYC. Spike was there to sign each pair, thereby tripling the value of the sneakers. When I finally made it in line to meet Black Brooklyn Santa I gushed about Do The Right Thing and he was modest and grateful. Then he said, you're going to sell these right? He winked. I replied, nah. Then I winked. It was perhaps one of the most benevolent and direct things a person of his stature has ever done to give back to the young and young-at-heart NY fam (at least I think so, us children of the 80's and 90's).
As you can plainly see, the Spiz'ikes were a bit too garish for one's personal stash of exclusive sneakers--designed, as they were, to be an amalgam of different Air Jordans with the cherry-on-top crest of Mars Blackmon. We knew (those in the know) that this was an act of generosity and fun-loving by a great collector and connoisseur. Not to mention a fat check for the involved parties. But for the little person (I stand 5'5 on a good day--Spike probably isn't much taller) this was a great victory. My friend and I made a lot of money in the following week. Really a lot of money for high school juniors in a few days. Over a G.
Thanks Spike. It was a good move. Always at the heart of Brooklyn.
Mister Señor Love Daddy sez:
Today's Forecast: Hot!
--Andrew E. Colarusso