One of the more frustrating things about the three years I lived in a “mixed” neighborhood in Northeast Washington, D.C., was the bus I was forced to rely on to get to work. The infamous X2, which promenades down H Street, not far from the U.S. Capitol, is a cornucopia of everything grating about urban life circa 2015: vulgar conversations carried out loudly on cell phones; grizzled oldsters drinking out of brown paper bags at 9 in the morning (some kind enough to offer a nip); and even the occasional fist fight between teenagers. Good luck trying to read a book!
The slog on the X2 is a particular chore for beleaguered, mostly African-American silent majority who ride the bus daily, many of whom clearly just want to get to work or school with a minimum of hassle. In Taipei, I’ve seen signs on the subway ordering people not to use their cell phones; in Washington. D.C., could we at least get a few posted placards that say “no stabbings?”
Sunday’s Washington Post Magazine, which is read primarily by middle class suburbanites who wouldn’t be caught dead on a bus like the X2, contains a puff piece about a nuisance to public order who regularly bothers commuters on the bus. His name is Thomas Goode, though he goes by the stage name Kokamoe, and he is a freestyle rapper who has allegedly become a “transit legend” thanks to the “performances” he subjects commuters to against their will. The piece, dubbed ‘Rappers Delight,’ begins
But then, the Post coos, “Thomas Goode, 44, boards.”
“’Hit us with a flow!’” a big guy bellows from the back,” the Post continues. And Kokamoe obliges, launching into multi-verse freestyle rap. Apparently he does this all the time.
Yes, rapping. On a bus. This isn’t somebody busking on a street corner for loose change; there’s something delightful about talented street musicians. Rather, Kokamoe’s antics are harassment of a captive audience that is just trying to get from point A to point B. But the Post, apparently, doesn’t see it this way: It makes Kokamoe out to be some sort of a charming, rakish figure, just another colorful image on the tapestry of urban life.
Later in the piece, we learn that “There is one place Kokamoe doesn’t rap much: home.” Why? Because “his wife, Robin Offutt, is ‘not really into none of it,’ he says.” What a wonderful husband, and how considerate. Of course, Kokamoe doesn’t stop to think whether the 75-year-old woman returning from her doctor’s office on the X2 is “into it” either.
Something tells me the author of the Post piece, one Sarah Godfrey, has never had to rely on the X2 to get to school, work, or a family member’s house. Ah, as her bio at the end of the piece informs us,
That explains it.
