I have seen some stunning rags to riches stories in my life. I have seen some well deserved and talented people who NEVER made it. I have seen the rise and fall of Giants. I talk to much. Here's...
Inspiration
Donavan Deshawn Dawson, aka Dj 3D, had been in the music game a long time.
When the world was screaming for BASS, Don, had given it to them.
In those days, he’d turned out parties and shows. At the height of his career, Donovan had put out some unremarkable records, which had garnered him a humble following. His pronunciation, delivery, and simple but meaningful raps, held no place in the Miami Bass scene, so he dumbed down his verses and concentrated on the production side of the business.
The Miami Bass era died.
Which forced the young Dj 3D to change his style. He was talented, gifted in fact, the hard truth was that he didn't know the right people. All of the talent in the world doesn't mean anything, if you don't know who to show it to.
Donavan, did what he had to do. That meant finishing college, where he met his wife, and life happened. Divorce and child support cases, and the early 2000's swiftly changing music scene limited the now 30 plus Dj’s involvement in music to playing night clubs.
While he still introduced himself as a music producer, even Don realized the futility of chasing the dream at this point. At forty Donovan met a woman, who’s, brand of insanity matched his own and the two of them decided to build a life.
Donovan went to work daily, his postal service job providing the American Dream. He also played some private parties and from time to time one of the 30 and older clubs around the city.
Don‘s common law wife Latisha, had brought a ready-made family with her. The oldest was a nineteen year old son, a big brute of a young man, as lazy and shiftless as he was large.
The younger man’s love of hip-hop music was the only thing that he and Don had in common.
Like many formerly, single mothers, Latisha wanted her son, a wannabe mumble rapper, to learn from the man in her life. Rightfully, She expected Don to assume the role of father.
Unfortunately, the younger and older men were not each other's biggest fans.
The two Alpha males had met too late in life.
Don, however loved Latisha enough to make an attempt.
Normally, Don enjoyed taking vacation days, today there was no fun to be had. He had taken some PTO, in order to introduce his college drop-out step-son to the world of work.
Donovan’s, Silver F350 was without a doubt the nicest vehicle in the parking lot of Ready Labor a temporary agency that provided same day work, and same day pay.
Don’s plan was to take his step-son there, and teach him the struggles that non-college educated, people often experienced.
The hope was that a couple days of the backbreaking manual labor would encourage, Terrance, his step-son, to return to college.
Don prayed that it was over quickly, his age was starting to catch up to him, and he was dreading the hard day.
Donovan and Terrance scarfed down breakfast sandwiches, as they waited to be assigned to some sort of work.
The room was fairly quiet.
Filled with men and a few women who had been broken by life, or were new to the area.
The agency was the type of place that would employ anyone, and the drug addicts, alcoholics, and ne’er-do-wells around the city knew it.
Suddenly the entire climate of the room changed.
Memphis Mike, an outspoken security guard that Don knew from the club scene walked in.
Memphis was the type of person who was larger than life, his voice was big, and his accent bounced from every corner of the temp agency’s waiting room walls.
“Dj 3D, aye main what’s good? Fuck you doing up in this motherfucker?”
Donovan, gave a quick explanation of what he was attempting to accomplish with Terrance.
Once the conversational ball was tossed back into Memphis’ court he took it and ran with it, much to Terrance’s delight.
Not only was the man’s accent pleasant Memphis had a way with words that caused most of the occupants of the office to smile if not outright laugh.
“Aye Main, you know why I Work over ear Main? Shit, I be done tricked the fuck off with these thick ass hoes main. You know I like my broads thicker cold grits main, shit thick than a $7 pork chop ya feel me?”
Terrance’s entire body shook with laughter.
Knowing, that he had an audience encouraged the gregarious bouncer, and he describe the type of women that he liked in ever more colorful terms.
“Half a happy meal away from fat.” “Thicker then government peanut butter” Memphis described his fascination with stretch marks, and how a “lil cottage cheese anit never hurt nobody”. Terrance sucked up every word.
Approximately an hour into the men’s wait time the desk clerk called Donovan and his son to the desk to send them out on assignment.
The pair wound up unloading an 18 wheeler filled with mattresses, the entire time Terrance, hummed and muttered to himself.
Donovan, figured that he was upset about the hard work and ignored him, confident that his plan was working.
Lunch time revealed what had really been going on inside the teenager’s mind. Terrance asked for his step-father’s expertise. “Aye Donovan, can you help me make a song?”
“Thicka then Grits” became a number one song and launched Terrance aka
xtra-Terrance-s-til 's career, it made 3D a sought after producer.
The re-mix featured Migos Drake, and Memphis Mike, just saying the hook.
"Main I like my gals thick, thicker than cold grits or a $7 poke chop, you know that thick as shit"
All because of a morning at the temp agency and a little bit of Inspiration.
Donavan Deshawn Dawson, aka Dj 3D, had been in the music game a long time.
When the world was screaming for BASS, Don, had given it to them.
In those days, he’d turned out parties and shows. At the height of his career, Donovan had put out some unremarkable records, which had garnered him a humble following. His pronunciation, delivery, and simple but meaningful raps, held no place in the Miami Bass scene, so he dumbed down his verses and concentrated on the production side of the business.
The Miami Bass era died.
Which forced the young Dj 3D to change his style. He was talented, gifted in fact, the hard truth was that he didn't know the right people. All of the talent in the world doesn't mean anything, if you don't know who to show it to.
Donavan, did what he had to do. That meant finishing college, where he met his wife, and life happened. Divorce and child support cases, and the early 2000's swiftly changing music scene limited the now 30 plus Dj’s involvement in music to playing night clubs.
While he still introduced himself as a music producer, even Don realized the futility of chasing the dream at this point. At forty Donovan met a woman, who’s, brand of insanity matched his own and the two of them decided to build a life.
Donovan went to work daily, his postal service job providing the American Dream. He also played some private parties and from time to time one of the 30 and older clubs around the city.
Don‘s common law wife Latisha, had brought a ready-made family with her. The oldest was a nineteen year old son, a big brute of a young man, as lazy and shiftless as he was large.
The younger man’s love of hip-hop music was the only thing that he and Don had in common.
Like many formerly, single mothers, Latisha wanted her son, a wannabe mumble rapper, to learn from the man in her life. Rightfully, She expected Don to assume the role of father.
Unfortunately, the younger and older men were not each other's biggest fans.
The two Alpha males had met too late in life.
Don, however loved Latisha enough to make an attempt.
Normally, Don enjoyed taking vacation days, today there was no fun to be had. He had taken some PTO, in order to introduce his college drop-out step-son to the world of work.
Donovan’s, Silver F350 was without a doubt the nicest vehicle in the parking lot of Ready Labor a temporary agency that provided same day work, and same day pay.
Don’s plan was to take his step-son there, and teach him the struggles that non-college educated, people often experienced.
The hope was that a couple days of the backbreaking manual labor would encourage, Terrance, his step-son, to return to college.
Don prayed that it was over quickly, his age was starting to catch up to him, and he was dreading the hard day.
Donovan and Terrance scarfed down breakfast sandwiches, as they waited to be assigned to some sort of work.
The room was fairly quiet.
Filled with men and a few women who had been broken by life, or were new to the area.
The agency was the type of place that would employ anyone, and the drug addicts, alcoholics, and ne’er-do-wells around the city knew it.
Suddenly the entire climate of the room changed.
Memphis Mike, an outspoken security guard that Don knew from the club scene walked in.
Memphis was the type of person who was larger than life, his voice was big, and his accent bounced from every corner of the temp agency’s waiting room walls.
“Dj 3D, aye main what’s good? Fuck you doing up in this motherfucker?”
Donovan, gave a quick explanation of what he was attempting to accomplish with Terrance.
Once the conversational ball was tossed back into Memphis’ court he took it and ran with it, much to Terrance’s delight.
Not only was the man’s accent pleasant Memphis had a way with words that caused most of the occupants of the office to smile if not outright laugh.
“Aye Main, you know why I Work over ear Main? Shit, I be done tricked the fuck off with these thick ass hoes main. You know I like my broads thicker cold grits main, shit thick than a $7 pork chop ya feel me?”
Terrance’s entire body shook with laughter.
Knowing, that he had an audience encouraged the gregarious bouncer, and he describe the type of women that he liked in ever more colorful terms.
“Half a happy meal away from fat.” “Thicker then government peanut butter” Memphis described his fascination with stretch marks, and how a “lil cottage cheese anit never hurt nobody”. Terrance sucked up every word.
Approximately an hour into the men’s wait time the desk clerk called Donovan and his son to the desk to send them out on assignment.
The pair wound up unloading an 18 wheeler filled with mattresses, the entire time Terrance, hummed and muttered to himself.
Donovan, figured that he was upset about the hard work and ignored him, confident that his plan was working.
Lunch time revealed what had really been going on inside the teenager’s mind. Terrance asked for his step-father’s expertise. “Aye Donovan, can you help me make a song?”
“Thicka then Grits” became a number one song and launched Terrance aka
xtra-Terrance-s-til 's career, it made 3D a sought after producer.
The re-mix featured Migos Drake, and Memphis Mike, just saying the hook.
"Main I like my gals thick, thicker than cold grits or a $7 poke chop, you know that thick as shit"
All because of a morning at the temp agency and a little bit of Inspiration.
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