Jay-Z's Mother's Day

| 16 Feb 2015 | 05:37

    It was Saturday night and I was supposed to have dinner with Jay-Z. Well, not exactly, but that's how I thought about it. The restaurant where I was to meet him was only minutes from my apartment, so I took my time walking through Fort Greene, down Fulton St. and over to Lafayette St. to the New City Bar and Grill, across from BAM, nestled on the first floor of a building that is also living space for several tenants.

    Jay-Z was throwing a catered Mother's Day dinner there for approximately 150 women. I was told all the women invited were from the Marcy Projects in Brooklyn, where he grew up. It was unclear if he selected these women or if this was left up to his mother or someone else.

    Several friendly women greeted me; all turned out to be affiliated with Jay-Z, Def Jam Records or Roc-a-Fella in one way or another. There wasn't much going on yet, so I grabbed a seat and watched Clark Kent deejay. I sat next to one of the ladies I was introduced to, Jana, and chatted about hiphop, record labels and the Motorola Blackberry pager she and what seemed like everyone else in the room owned.

    Just after 7 o'clock we were informed that Jay was pulling up. I stepped outside and watched a couple of black SUVs with tinted windows make U-turns and park behind the black Mercedes from which Jay emerged. He, too, was sporting a Blackberry.

    Slews of women started arriving; some by themselves, some with their friends; a few had kids in tow, and some didn't look old enough to be mothers. Ladies began doling out food from aluminum containers: collard greens, mac & cheese, fried chicken, kidney beans with rice, cornbread, fried shrimp and potato salad. I watched Jay-Z interact with Roc-a-Fella rapper Memphis ("making easy money pimpin' hoes in style") Bleek, co-owner Damon Dash and his date Aaliyah, rumored to have married R. Kelly at age 15.

    Dash was serenading her to a song DJ Clark Kent was spinning when I went over to say hello. Asked how he was involved with this Mother's Day dinner, he told me, "Roc-a-Fella, anything anyone does, it's all one thing...we all have to appreciate our mothers." Then he yanked up his sleeve to show me a tattoo of his deceased mom. Above a detailed sketch were the words, "Thanks for making me the man that I am." He said that his grandmother was also no longer living, and he was happy to be sharing a night with all kinds of mothers, including Jay-Z's, whom he'd spent the last five or six years of holidays with.

    After dinner a raffle started. None of the mothers knew what the prizes were, but I did?envelopes full of dollar bills, from $250 to $3000. When they read the numbers of the $3000 grand-prize ticket, Jay's mother stood up and began cheering. She was instantly booed and told she couldn't be the winner. People laughed, and another ticket was drawn. Jay gave a brief address to all the mothers and the camera crews began snapping photos. As the rapper made his way out the front door, he paused for a few poses with his mother and grandmother. I wanted to ask him if this is what he considers "Big Pimpin'."

    I asked Jay's mom about the money she'd won, and lost. She said it was the first time in her whole life that she'd won anything, and laughed about it being taken away. She assured me her son would make it up to her.

    As I left the dinner party, personal Mother's Day basket in hand, I thought of my own mom, and the teenage boy I'd passed on the way selling plants on the street. I'd wanted to buy her one, because she loves plants, but it would never have made it to the Midwest alive. Too bad she wouldn't appreciate a Mother's Day card autographed by Jay-Z.