So, I heard this morning that Kendrick Lamar is coming to Toronto.

Big f**king deal.

Except that it is.

We just survived six shows of Taylor Swift in The Big Smoke and now comes another performer who will command stratospheric ticket prices and bring the attention of the world onto Downtown Toronto.  But, whereas Taylor Swift fans exchange friendship bracelets with one another, we can only hope that competing rap enthusiasts don’t exchange gunfire.

Before I write another word, I have to make something profoundly clear.

I’m a gunna tell ya tha’ I ain’ no racist, and I’m a gunna tell ya that tha’ ain’t no basis, 
for dat shit I gotta say, as I startin’ wid ma day.
It only just da way it is and all ya gotta face it.

Or something like that.

My apologies to my children, to any rap fans, or to worshippers of rap warlords world-wide.  For a sixty-five year old man to be cringe-rapping into his cornflakes on a Saturday morning is perhaps a low point for just about anyone starting their day.  But in my defence, it’s important to point out that my commentary has nothing to do with skin colour, since that’s not on my list of criteria for judging a person.  So there.

Kendrick Lamar is coming to the 6IX, which is rap slang for Toronto, based upon some cleverness originated by another rapper named Drake, who happens to call Toronto home.  It’s a derivative of the city’s long serving 416 area code.

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