Scribbler's Rave & Favorite Five: Ninetysomething Days of Summer, #1 Summer of '97

Whereas the summer of 1995 was a little more about life-changing experiences, what made my final summer as a "teenager" the greatest of all was how much fun I had with my friends and family.  Sure, those 93 days were part of one of my biggest transition periods from high school graduation to attending college and being away from the nest for the first time.  However, as much as I was excited about this new journey, I gladly put my next chapter on hold as I continued to enjoy the last months of my adolescence.  Much like the previous four summers on this countdown, 1997 provided a great soundtrack--a lot of which 2Pac and The Notorious B.I.G. supplied in bittersweet fashion following their tragic murders.  Another honorable mention were the summer blockbusters as I distinctly recall going to see Face/Off, Batman & Robin (which wasn't really that good, but still), Conspiracy Theory, The Fifth Element, Nothing to Lose (which I saw like three times), Money Talks and How to Be a Player.  Even with so many good tunes and flicks on deck, they weren't enough to outdo the plethora of fantastic voyages sans the pirate hats and the land of funk.  So as I round out the "Ninetysomething Days of Summer" edition of my "Rave & Favorite Five", I unveil the five reasons why the summer of 1997 is king of the hill...

#5 MY CREW...MY DAWGS...SET RULES...SET LAWS.  Now we weren't going around singing the rest of those offensive T.O.K. lyrics, but we were definitely some young bulls on the prowl.  Big Dadi Scribbler was the main person who prepared me for the possibility of being much closer to my college friends down the line than to most of my high school or childhood buddies, so it was imperative to wild out with my bros.  Although my folks from college were more of the "party ain't a party 'til we walk in" crew, my high school friends and I possessed more of a subtle but welcoming presence because we weren't a pretentious bunch of teenagers caught up in an inflated sense of self-importance; we were too busy either laughing at our favorite lines from The Simpsons or continuing the age-old debate of who was the better go-go band between Backyard and Junk Yard while acknowledging Chuck Brown and Rare Essence were the OGs of the game no matter what.  (For the record, the Southeast/Southwest dudes outnumbered the Uptown dudes in our crew, so the bias usually went toward JYB--although when "Spotlight on the Buttcheeks" came on and the girls got fired up, we quickly put our debate on hold.)  Whether we hit City Place or Pentagon City to see the hottest movies, "booked" even hotter girls or simply rode around the area blasting go-go music or the latest tunes, we made the most of our final glory days together as evidenced in three out of the next four reasons...

#4 THE VIRGINIA BEACH TRIP.  On my first excursion to my third favorite beach I've ever been to behind Puerto Vallarta, Mexico and Key Biscayne in Miami, one of my best friends at the time and I trekked three-and-a-half hours down I-95 and I-64 for one of my most memorable beach adventures. Although we spent a lot of time with his parents, he was granted plenty of liberties as we rode around the town and cruised the strip bumping the Soul Food soundtrack, Missy Elliott's Supa Dupa Fly and Puff Daddy & The Family's No Way Out.  Among the two most vivid recollections, we went to Flashback Old Time Photos on the main strip where we dressed up like we were part of Bumpy Johnson's crew, held fake bags of money and Tommy guns and posed with the hardest faces we could muster for 17-year-old youngins pre-beard gang flow.  What also stuck out the most from that was inheriting the beloved phrase "lewd and lascivious behavior".  (Y'all know I'm a vocabulary geek, so that tickled my fancy.)  The other was meeting these two really cute girls one of the days we were down there, hanging out along the boardwalk of the beach that night and temporarily "bunning up" during a night ride through the city while having a good feeling we'd never talk to or see these chicks ever again.  Despite the annoyance of sand in our shoes and clothes, that Virginia Beach trip was dope enough to live on in the annals of great road trips.  Speaking of the fun in the sun and pretty ladies...

#3 NO HONEY?  NO PROBLEM.  Once my girlfriend and I broke up in March after a short-lived second stint that established my "I don't double back" mentality as well as coming off of five consecutive summers with a significant other, I came into the summer of '97 with one simple rule: no girlfriends allowed.  I knew if somebody locked me down before college, then I'd probably still be with her by the time I set foot on campus and I wanted the freedom to interact with and pick from a new crop of young ladies.  Consequently, the whole "nobody wants you unless somebody has you" rule went out the window as I was single to mingle and had girls popping out of the woodworks for my attention and potentially my heart--including one girl whose last name I never knew because her delusions of grandeur yielded a response of "Scribbler" whenever I asked for her complete government name.  (Needless to say, I had to cut her off like a rich dad does his super-spoiled debutante daughter.)  Between trips to Hains Point, subway rides around the city and movie dates where we made sure to get there early for those highly-coveted back row seats, I had no qualms with kissing the girls and trying my best not to make them cry.  Although I ultimately realized being a player was overrated, it was still fun while it lasted...

#2 THE BATTLE OF THE BANDS.  I have no idea what possessed us to subject ourselves to standing smack dab in the sun's path during one of the hottest days of one of the most sweltering summers on record.  However, after becoming more interested in go-go over a two-year span, nothing was going to prevent me from attending my first (and only) "Battle of the Bands" outside of RFK Stadium.  Our normal debate about the best band in the land was fueled by the usual suspects of the era like Northeast Groovers, Huck-a-Bucks and, of course, the aforementioned Uptown and Southeast representatives.  Two things stood out about this magical Saturday afternoon: 1) despite the heat, hundreds of people were still packed tight like sardines (no JYB pun intended) and 2) when JYB played the raunchy favorite "Tiddy Balls", all of my friends and the girls assumed the positions as we "cupped" regardless of the copious amounts of sweat involved.  Although we all should've hit the showers right afterwards instead of Ruby Tuesday's in Pentagon City, we felt the need to review how awesome the show was, how hot (and sweaty) the girls were and how right we were about our respective favorite bands--although let me tell it, it was a push between BYB and JYB.  Despite all of these wonderful times, very few experiences in my entire life top the No. 1 reason why the summer of '97 was the best ever...

#1 GEORGIA AVENUE DAY.  Before I get into how fantastic Georgia Avenue Day was in 1997, the story must begin with this fun fact: I wasn't supposed to be there as long as I was.  I don't know what possessed me to schedule a 3:30 movie date during one of the most popular parades and festivals in D.C., but I thought I could swing it.  After helping my friend move into his dorm room at Howard University, we all decided to hang out at Banneker Field while I was thinking in the back of my mind, "Cool, but I'm only staying until 3 tops."  However, between good food, great music, "bird watching" and running into a bunch of random friends, there was way too much action that made it virtually impossible to pull away from the enchantment of the afternoon.  Besides, attempting to move through that crowd to get to Shaw-Howard University Metro Station made a 3:30 date look more and more unlikely.  Despite having the bright idea of calling my date at home and telling her to come to Georgia Avenue Day instead, the problem was finding a pay phone in time to tell her not to go to Pentagon City.  Needless to say, I never made it to the movies.

As the plot was thickening, the word on the street was Backyard Band would be playing on Hobart Place, so we all hightailed it around the corner from the strip to get a good spot near the front row.  One of the many girls I ran into that day who I booked over the summer and was in the same summer program as me and my date who I stood up happened to be there.  As BYB started cranking their hottest songs, everybody was super duper lit as she and I were grinding up on each other.  In the middle of my debauchery, however, someone taps me on my shoulder and as I turn around to see who it is, wouldn't you know it...it's my date!  She gave me a mild side eye that made me feel bad for a hot second, but when the girl I was dancing with rubbed her ample booty on me a little more, I turned right back around like I wasn't as wrong as two left shoes.  Granted, I felt like crap afterwards because she was the only girl I ever stood up for a date and it still kinda bothers me to this day.  Nevertheless, not even that dating faux pas could take away from the high of the last hurrah epitomizing the greatest single season of my life.  No summer since then has come remotely close to being as indelible or as enjoyable as the undisputed heavyweight champion summer of '97.


So now that we've finally reached the end of the "Ninetysomething Days of Summer" edition, it's time to share some memories from your favorite summer of all time in the comments section.  Don't forget to come back in two weeks as I return with a short, sweet and special edition of my "Rave & Favorite Five"!!!