An Open Letter to Tip Harris, a.k.a. T.I.

I sometimes tell people we’re good friends… in my head.  I mean that to be funny, of course. That’s kind of “my thing”. I make people laugh. But, all jokes aside, if we ever were to meet, we would definitely vibe. (In a bro/sis kind of way. I mean no disrespect to your wife.)

I’m not completely bonkers. I know a person in your position can just invite random people to your crib to chill.  Luckily, I’m thinking ahead. With this letter, I’ll tell you a little bit about myself and why I think we’d be fast friends. No way you won’t agree. So, all I have to do is get you to read this and I’ll  be well on my way to checking #1 off my bucket list. (Cause there’s nothing crazy about that plan at all!)

So, let me introduce myself…I’m Dena (aka MC Me Maw), and I am one unique chick.  Not my words. People tell me all the time how different and special I am; or say they’ve never met anybody like me…ever.  I’m sure at least a few of them meant that in a good way. (Well, pretty sure.) Maybe you should just decide for yourself.

First of all, I LOVE YOUR MUSIC! It’s basically all I listen to, especially when I’m driving. If I’m in my car, you can bet I’ve got one of my “mixed tape” greatest hits CDs on full blast. (And, yes, I said mixed taped CD. I’m what you’d call “old school”.) Your tunes do get me a lot of attention. People can hear me coming from about a mile away, so of course they’re going to look when I get close.  The reactions from seeing me behind the wheel of the “jam-mobile” are priceless. Everything from strange looks to laughter. I can’t even count how many times I’ve had people film me at a red light. They act like they’ve never seen a 55 year old white woman spittin’ rhymes with the King of the South before. (Okay, I’m what you’d call “old”.) Maybe I don’t fit into the normal demographic of your fan base, but that doesn’t make me any less of a fan. Ya’ dig?

You’ve got to hear this story.  It was like 6:00 on a Friday afternoon and I was sitting in bumper to bumper traffic at a major intersection in Cobb County. (Yes, THAT Cobb County.  Born, raised and still live in the jurisdiction where you can “count on being busted”.)  Back to the traffic jam.  I’m passing the time “throwing my hands up high cause I really wanna kick it with a stand up guy” when I notice two dudes in a truck one lane over are rockin’ with me.  They’re fist pumping and thumbs upping fires me up. I suddenly realize they aren’t the only ones paying attention. Five or six cars got involved in my impromptu performance. Everybody was so into it; dancing in their seats, singing, laughing w/ me and each other. It was freakin’ awesome! In the middle of Friday afternoon traffic, here’s this group of total strangers having a blast together and no longer concerned with how long we’d been at a standstill. When we finally got the green, we all went through that intersection blowing our horns and waving as we went our separate ways.

You may not have been there physically, but, you were a part of that random encounter.  We made a good team. Take my word on that.  I’d like to think the happiness we created was contagious and all of those people passed the good mood on to others they encountered.  Who, in turn, continued to spread the good feeling forward, and so on.  It definitely made my day!

My first and only time seeing you live was Father’s Day, 2017. Coca-Cola Roxy at Suntrust Park, the last stop of the Hustle Gang tour. It took some maneuvering to ge the day off. I’m in the restaurant biz; holidays are mandatory. By the time I confirmed I could go, VIP was sold out so I had to settle for general admission. Disappointing, but, at least I’d be there. When I checked out some pics from a prior show at the venue, however, I admit I was a little freaked out. The crowd looked intimidating. Had my over 50, 5′ ass bit off more than my denture filled mouth could chew?  I guess I’d find out when I got there.

Well, let me tell ya’, my apprehension was for naught! The mob didn’t overwhelm me, I overwhelmed the mob!  I was on the side of the stage, right up front against the ropes. I took over that area and made everybody around my friend. If I walked away to get a drink or smoke, when I came back, they’d move to the side and give me back my place.  If a newcomer was around, somebody close by would politely let them know they were in my spot. I had a freaking blast! I was dancing and singing and partying my ass off! I was so popular, two different times a photographer came off the stage to take a picture of just me. (I’ve searched and searched for those pics online. to no avail.) So, you see, your fans, (who are your people, right?) loved me. That tells me I’m right. You’d love me too!!

Despite my impressive number (almost 30) of followers, I’m not much of a “tweeter”.  Basically, I just log on to harass our so called president.  I did have one day of glory on the site, though. It all started when the story came out about your encounter with the neighborhood rent-a-cop. For such a minor (and uncalled for) incident, the media coverage was just ridiculous. And, it pissed me off. I commented on every story and tweet I could find. Since everybody wanted to jump at the chance to give you some “bad press”, I  thought I’d give them some suggestions for their next report. They could come down to the ATL around Thanksgiving and watch you donate not only your money, but also your time to help feed people who otherwise wouldn’t have a holiday turkey.  Or, talk about your surprise Christmas Eve visits to a Walmart where you pay for the single mom’s purchases.  Broadcast that shit to the world, why don’t ya’?! (I’m getting fired up again just thinking about it.)

Anyway, I thought my phone was going to blow up from all the notification vibrations.  My shit was getting like, commented on, retweeted.  People who already knew about your good deeds were thanking me for taking up for you and people who didn’t were thanking me for the enlightment. ( I believe I came “this close” to trending myself.)  All this was before I found out about what you’re doing to help the people in  the Bankhead, Grove Park and Center Hill area; which, by the way,  I think is awesome. You are giving hard working, deserving people a way to fight back against gentrification. I know that must be so satisfying.

I need to be serious for a moment before I wrap this up.  I got this idea after reading your open letter to Trump in Rolling Stone (cover photo above). What you wrote about was important, and I am in no way trying to make light of it with what I am writing here. I admire your willingness to speak out about the injustice still occuring in this country. You’re in a position where your words can be heard by millions of people and you use that platform wisely. You provide those who aren’t being listened to a voice that can be heard. I commend you for that.  Your talent, generosity and commitment to change are all reasons why you have my utmost respect.

All right, Tip. I’ll let ya’ get back to building that empire and changing the world.  Hopefully, I’ll get to meet you in person one day.  But, even if I don’t,  I just want you to  know…there’s a crazy old lady just north of the perimeter that thinks you are the shit!!


Dena Pritchett, aka MC MeMaw

P.S. – F*** Trump




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