It’s been a looooooong time coming! 

It’s difficult to even entertain the idea I’m about to write, but here we are—facing the possibility that, in my lifetime, the country I was born and raised in, Canada, could be annexed by the country I’ve lived in and built my life over the last 20 years, the United States. The thought is surreal, almost unimaginable, yet it lingers in the back of my mind like a storm cloud on the horizon.

I’ll start with a quote from the genius emcee Homeboy Sandman, from his song Same Number, Same Hood: “Angel from Elmhurst, where I’m stuck like Elmers, ‘cause I don’t wanna leave my region, my allegiance, that’s a part of me I grieved and learned to read, that’s the artery. But really, Angel from NY, where I’ve been bugged out, buns out, screaming out banzai!”

That verse resonates deeply with me. Oshawa in the ‘90s was a special place—a time of hockey games, small-town charm, and the kind of simplicity that feels almost mythical now.  The Record Bar, Pat and Mikes, Square Boys, the OC, The Generals run, shit was legendary.   In 2000, I left Oshawa for New York City, a move that marked the halfway point of my life so far. My father and his family are American, which granted me U.S. citizenship, but growing up in Canada, I always felt a strange pull toward America, even if I couldn’t fully explain it. I felt Canadian in my heart and soul, yet at home in America, a duality that has defined much of my life.

As a kid, I spent summers and spring breaks in Pittsburgh, taking in the culture, the food, and the sense of belonging that came with being around family. I am, in every sense, a person of both countries. My memories of Canada are as vivid and cherished as those of America—poutine in the winter, the sound of skates on ice, the quiet beauty of snow-covered streets. And yet, I’ve come to love New Jersey, a place I never expected to call home. Who would have thought a hot slice of pizza on the beach could rival the comfort of poutine on a cold winter’s day?

America is an incredible place to live, and I am deeply grateful for the opportunities it has afforded me. The capitalist democratic society here has allowed me to build a life, pursue my dreams, find my place in the world, and start my family. But my gratitude does not mean blind allegiance. I have been critical of every administration in my lifetime—from Bush to Clinton, and especially Trump, whom I’ve opposed since the moment he announced his candidacy. What’s happening now, however, feels different. It’s not just politics as usual; it’s something darker, more insidious.

What we’re witnessing is a convergence of The Handmaid’s Tale and Weimar Germany, playing out in real-time.   The divisive rhetoric about annexing Canada and Greenland, aligning closely with figures like Putin, and the suggestion of pursuing a third term are deeply troubling actions that echo authoritarian tendencies. These behaviors raise serious concerns about the erosion of democratic norms and the potential rise of fascist-like ideologies. Such developments threaten the foundational principles of freedom, sovereignty, and democratic governance.  The installation of loyalists, the belittling of democratic leaders like Canada’s Prime Minister, and the demonization of immigrants are not just political strategies—they are the hallmarks of fascism. It’s in your face, unapologetic, and impossible to ignore. And I, for one, am not here for it.  It is deeply concerning to witness actions that could undermine democratic institutions, such as attempts to consolidate power, politicize agencies like the FBI and CIA, or foster an environment where corruption and oligarchy thrive. If such trends continue unchecked, the consequences could be severe, potentially leading to a dramatic and dangerous shift in the foundations of governance and society.  The release of individuals involved in the January 6 insurrection, the reluctance to condemn extremist displays like Elon’s Nazi salute, the politicization of institutions such as the DOJ and DOD, and the increasing influence of Christian Nationalism within the military are alarming developments. These actions suggest a troubling shift away from the principles of freedom and democracy that have long defined America, raising concerns about the future of the nation’s democratic foundations.

As much as I love America, just like Neil McCauley says in my all-time favorite movie Heat, “Don’t let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds  flat if you feel the heat around the corner.” My love for this country is not unconditional. It’s rooted in the ideals it claims to stand for—freedom, equality, and democracy. If those ideals are betrayed, if the heat of authoritarianism creeps too close, I won’t hesitate to walk away. My allegiance is to principles, not to a flag.

So, referring back to Homeboy Sandman, when push comes to shove, I’m pushing and shoving for the artery. 

Last night, the Starland Ballroom in New Jersey hosted the You Can’t Imagine How Much Fun We’re Having 20-year reunion tour, and I was there with my 13-year-old son in tow. It was his first rap show, and I was determined to make it memorable—mostly for him, but also for me, happy to be out with my camera.

The lineup was stacked: Mr. Dibbs, Sage Francis, and Atmosphere. But before the music even started, I decided to take my son on a little adventure. We spotted, Sage and Dibbs hanging out near the merch table.  Both were happy to hear it was his first show and gave Jalen daps.  We saw Ant roaming the venue too, he was also cool and approachable.

The show itself was a blast. Mr. Dibbs shredded the turntables like it was 2003, with 1200 Hobo energy and Sage Francis delivered Make Shift Patriot with the same raw power it had when I first heard it after 9/11. My son stood wide-eyed as Sage spit truth bombs into the mic. I leaned over and said, “See? This is what real rap sounds like.” He nodded, but I’m pretty sure he was just humoring me.

Atmosphere closed out the night, and it was everything I hoped it would be. Slug’s lyrics hit hard, Ant’s beats were flawless, and the crowd was electric. My son even bobbed his head a little, which I’m choosing to interpret as him finally “getting it.”

Driving home, he was quiet, probably processing the fact that his dad might actually be kind of cool. I didn’t push it. I just let the silence hang, basking in the glow of my temporary coolness.

Twenty years is a long time, but last night felt like no time had passed at all. The beats were the same, the rhymes were the same, and the sense of community was the same. Plus, I got to embarrass my son in front of his new rap heroes, which is basically a parenting win. 

Big changes are happening worldwide, and here in America, the urgency for action has never been greater. The political landscape is shifting, policies are being made that affect millions, and the voices of the people must be louder than ever. Showing up at a protest is a great start—it is a powerful expression of solidarity, a way to amplify collective outrage, and a reminder to those in power that the people are watching. Chanting in unison, marching side by side, and sharing in the energy of resistance builds a sense of unity that fuels movements.

But activism cannot stop there. Posting on social media, spreading awareness, and engaging in discussions are important, but true change demands persistence beyond the moment. It requires sustained action, informed opposition, and an unwavering commitment to holding those in power accountable. Being adamant and strongly opposed to unjust policies at the federal level means more than just voicing frustration—it means organizing, showing up at town halls, contacting representatives, supporting grassroots movements, and demanding accountability at every turn.

Real change doesn’t happen overnight, and it certainly doesn’t happen if resistance is only performative. It takes a relentless push from engaged citizens who refuse to be silenced. The fight is not just about one protest, one post, or one election—it is about building a movement that does not back down. Change is possible, but only if people are willing to show up, not just in the streets, but in every space where power is challenged and progress is made.

https://generalstrikeus.com/

Here’s to keeping your head up in the new year—a time for fresh starts, renewed energy, and endless possibilities. It’s a chance to refocus, dream big, and remember the beauty and wonder that surrounds us.

This sentiment brings to mind a powerful quote from one of the greatest minds in history, a man whose genius reshaped how we see the universe. Stephen Hawking, the brilliant physicist and author of books as dense and profound as the cosmos itself, offered a simple yet profound reminder:

“Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet.”

In these few words, Hawking captured the essence of hope and curiosity. It’s a call to keep our perspective wide, to remain inspired by the vastness of the universe, and to stay grounded while aiming for the stars.

As we step into the new year, let’s carry this wisdom with us. Let’s embrace challenges, appreciate the beauty around us, and always strive for something greater. After all, the stars are waiting for us to look up and dream. 🌌

Goodbye to the GOAT—the goddamn greatest car ever assembled. That’s saying a lot coming from a kid from #Oshawa, where the legacy of auto manufacturing runs deep. This car wasn’t just a machine; it was my homie.

This was the first new car I ever owned, and I was proud as hell to drive it off the lot. For 14 years and 250,000 miles, it stood by me—through over 600 weddings, two unforgettable trips to Muskoka, three journeys to Pittsburgh, and countless early mornings stuck in rush hour. It didn’t just get me there; it never once let me down. Not once.

Hoop Group has that special blend of gritty charm and electric energy that basketball enthusiasts can’t resist. Its unassuming exterior sets the stage for the pure basketball magic that happens inside. It’s one of those places where the love for the game takes center stage, and the hype fills every corner of the gym. Truly, a gem of the New Jersey sports scene! 🏀

It wasn’t until after I captured this moment that I truly grasped its meaning. New York City remains unmatched—the most extraordinary city on Earth. Even if the entire financial district were erased, it wouldn’t diminish the heartbeat of this vibrant metropolis. I’m endlessly grateful to have called it home in my twenties during the early 2000s—a time that profoundly shaped me and my love for this city.

New year, new promises: more single-photo request posts ahead. No more Zuck.

This year I wanted to do something a little different for the Holidays! Over the summer Jalen and I spent some time playing basketball in London.  We had a blast and I took about a million photos.  These are just a few!  Each mini-book is unique and the sets are limited to 5!  Each box will be custom-packed with other goodies for the holidays!   Get your box here! 

1 Deck of playing cards

4 Coasters 

1 Lighter 

1 Mini book

Other goodies :) 

If you haven’t seen the Netflix Documentary, The Comeback, I highly recommend it. The TLDR is that the Boston Red Sox came back to beat the Yankees in the ALCS in 2004 after being down 3 games.   I digress.   Mid August 2001 I hatched a plan to travel to Europe, I even bought my tickets at the internet cafe in Times Square, and I paid for a one-hour session.  Germany seemed cool but there was a great deal to fly to Amsterdam on September 11, 2001, flying out of Toronto at 8 am.  My homie Mike was going to drive me to the airport.  Needless to say, that flight didn’t happen.  The next day I was able to fly to Germany and for the sake of keeping on topic, thats where I will leave my trip to Europe.   Flash forward to early March and I am back in NYC and need some work.  Somehow I came across Tennessee Mountain, an old BBQ rib restaurant in SoHo.  Old-school NYC people know the spot.  Amazing chili, ribs, cheap drinks, a thick layer of grease on everything, and the feeling that the place was about to collapse at any minute.  Since waiting tables wasn’t really my bag, I took the easiest morning shift possible so I could get my photo hustle on as soon as I could.  On my first day there, I met a slightly chubby dude wearing a Boston Red Sox hat named David working the bar.  A few days later I took a night shift that Dave was also on so we had a chance to close together.  That’s when we realized a mutual love of hip-hop.  Come to find out Dave is an aspiring rapper from Boston, and goes by One Dae. Turns out dude is pretty good.  Within weeks we got to be pretty close and collaborate on art, compare conspiracy theories over spliffs, play basketball, and talk about sports.  Despite living in NYC Dave being from Boston was still a Red Sox and Pat’s fan.  Enter Game 7 of the ALCS.  Since we are super smaart ( Boston accent ) we decided to watch the game at a well-known Boston bar in the Village, McSorleys Ale House. We had an absolute blast. Sox win an amazing game and we are soaked in beer, but now have to get out of the bar and get home.  Dave is wearing a Red Sox hat.  Thankfully the NYC police were there to escort the fans, including us in the bar away from the 6th Ave chaos.  It was hilarious.  My fav insult from a Yankees fan to me, who was just there to watch, I don’t root for either team, “bro, I will see you around town”  Like, really?  This is NYC, you prolly won’t see me again, homie, lol.  It was a great memory, one that I love to tell.  Time went on and Dave and I had a falling out.  It’s not important why.  That’s not what the post is about.  

It was this time last year I got the word that Dave had passed away in Oregon.  We were the same age, it was a real surprise.  At one point Dave was Golden Glove’s contender and trained at Gleason’s.  It had been a few months since we spoke, and when we did the common ground was hip-hop, sports, and conspiracy theories.  When I left NYC in 2003 to go back to school, Dave came up to visit.  He was my good homie, as an only child, I don’t say this lightly but for a few years, he was as close to a brother as I could imagine.

  As I get ready to mail these prints to Daves’s mom and look over all the photos I took of him and all my homies from the last 30 years, I am compelled to say.. reach out to your friends simply.  Now.  Today.  Not next week, don’t wait for them to call you, you make the call, call your friends and tell them you love them, share a memory, vent, crack a joke.  Don’t wait for them to post on Facebook or IG.  Call your homies, and text your bros.  I wish I had more stories to share. What better time than now to start making them.  Dave was a talented rapper and savvy businessman.  I am happy to have called David Tracy my friend.  Rest in Power.  

One Dae 

Music