Ice Cube’s Good Day

Mar 14th, 2010
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Is it just me, or was a day good enough for Ice Cube to pen a few verses about it actually not all that good? I’m not hating on the song, one of the biggest hits of 1992 and on the soundtrack to my 7th grade year. The song is fine, kinda fun, good memories. But the story itself…awfully uninspiring and at times kind of boring. Is that the point? That a good day in LA in 1992 was a boring day? Meaning, more importantly, that nothing bad happened? Perhaps, but I’m guessing that wasn’t the point Ice Cube was trying to make. Let’s really get down to the nitty gritty here:

Cube gets up around 10:00am is his seemingly spacious yet woefully under-furnished bedroom. All he seems to have is a bed, a mirror, some big-ass windows, and a stereo. Oh yeah, he also has a gun. His bed is made neatly as he adjusts his black do-rag. He seems to be limping out of his room. Perhaps residual effects from the fall last night at the ice rink?

He eats breakfast (scrambled eggs) with a faceless mother and a couple kindergartners before getting a page from a girl he’d been trying to “dig out” which…I apologize, I don’t know what that means. I assume it involves Cube’s penis. He makes plans with her for later and leaves. He seems to be in a sort of hurry because “I got me a drop top and if I hit that switch, I can make that ass drop.” I’m not sure why that requires him to be hustling out of his home, but whatever. I think it’s more likely the little boy next to him was sneezing all over his eggs. Obligatory shots of the drop top’s ass dropping in case we didn’t believe him.

While driving, a woman named Kim beeps him. In 1992 it was cooler to have a beeper than to have a Zack Morris cell phone.

He calls some friends to see where they’re playing some basketball. By now I’m guessing it’s late morning, early-afternoon. I can relate to this, especially as a 7th grader. We see slow-mo highlights of the basketball game, all four guys dressed somewhat ridiculously for what I assume is a summer basketball game on a Los Angeles blacktop. Cube’s wearing black jeans and a long sleeved black shirt, the least-dressed guys are still wearing jeans and a multitude of t-shirts. Cube “fucked around and got a triple double.” This line always makes me smile…picturing Ice Cube letting everyone know either by his words or his actions that he’s too cool to try, but not too cool to be tallying the stats in his head. “Okay, I got 14 points, 11 rebounds, and 9 assists, hopefully my teammate makes this next jumper no more than one dribble after I pass it to him…….YES! Triple double!” Nevermind that most 2 on 2 games are played to 21 and it’s therefore almost impossible to get a triple double…unless of course Ice Cube is playing multiple games to 21 and adding them all together into one final stat line, which is pathetic even by my standards. The lone clip of Cube playing basketball is him driving to the lane and throwing up some sort of weird layup/hook shot hybrid that anyone over 5’2 would have swatted into the 4th row. Or as Cube calls it “freaking niggas every way like MJ.” He must mean Michael Jackson because I’m almost positive I’ve never seen Michael Jordan take a shot like that. Anyway. Ice Cube glowers at his opponents after, I’m assuming, his and his teammate’s victory. The opponents have a look on their face that says “how can that guy and his retard hook shot beat us?!” The weird thing is, his teammate after the game is the same guy trying to guard him during the MJ shot. Maybe I’m over-analyzing this, Cube’s good day is rolling on with or without me.

He drives home and showers…on the way, some cops pull up next to him, but they turn right as he goes straight. The day almost got interesting…but then it didn’t.

He goes to Short Dog’s house (2-3pm?) to play some craps. I don’t know much about craps but from the song I gather it heavily involves the numbers seven and eleven. He wins enough money that some guys are getting a little antagonized by what is surely Ice Cube’s incessant trash talking. He doesn’t seem to be the most gracious winner on the planet. They play some dominoes and once again Cube wins, unnecessarily slamming the domino down and making a mess.

He leaves with everyone’s cash (6-7pm? Four hours for craps & dominoes?), on his way to pick up some woman he’s been trying to get with since the 12th grade…is this Kim from earlier? They seem to go directly to a motel where he sits about 18 inches from the TV watching basketball while she “[has] the chronic” and sits alone on the side of the bed drinking a 40 from a brown bag. I gotta say, I’ve never tried this sort of date but I have to hand it to Cube…it’s very low-maintenance. I wouldn’t be surprised if he made her pay for the motel room.

They move directly into the sexing (11pm?), Ice Cube of course coming off like the attentive and sensitive lover we all know him to be. I’m guessing some sleeping took place afterward since suddenly it’s 1:00am and Cube is waking up his date the way I used to wake up my brother when he was 4 years old and I was trying to push his buttons, by putting his hand on her head and shaking it. “Hey…wake up, dummy.”

It’s here that I think the boasting is getting a little out of hand. Not content to describe his sexing prowess, or how he was able to hook up with someone immediately after convincing her to sit on the side of a hotel bed for two hours while he watched a basketball game on an 18″ TV, he lets us know that upon being violently awoken from her peaceful slumber, she “doesn’t hesitate to call Ice Cube the top gun.” Wow. If I tried that with my gf, after a romantic evening of dinner and candles and whatever else you see during romantic evenings, if I woke her up in that fashion, I’d not only be sleeping on the couch, I’d be given the silent treatment for at least 5 days. Maybe a full week. Here, Ice Cube is “the top gun”. Ok.

She gets dropped off so she can take a silkwood shower and Cube drives home.

No doubt hungry since his dinner seemed to be nothing more than blunts and 40s, Cube stops for a Fatburger. He doesn’t specify what he ordered, but he does let us in on the fact that he’s “drunk as hell but no throwing up”. The exact moment he says these words, in the video he’s not only driving his car, but driving it on 3 wheels. Ahh, 1992, long before drunk driving became the social stigma is it today.

…Aaaaand, he’s home. No word on how many innocent pedestrians/animals were killed during his joyride home, nor are there any highlights from the horrendous diarrhea Cube surely got from Fatburger that woke him up 2 hours later.

So there ya have it. A day so good that Ice Cube had to write a song about it, a wildly popular and successful song, features:

1. A no-pork breakfast with some preschool kids who were probably sneezing on his food.
2. A triple double against what I’m guessing were blind and/or deaf opponents who tucked their t-shirts into their jeans.
3. Playing some craps/dominoes, and winning his friends’ money to the point they’re openly resenting him.
4. Watching a basketball game on a tiny motel TV.
5. Drunk sex with a high school crush in a motel bed…that she paid for.
6. Drunk driving.
7. A hamburger at 2:00am.
8. Explosive diarrhea.

Replace “craps/dominoes” with “wiffleball”, “drunk sex” with “nerf basketball at Carmichael’s house” and remove the drunk driving, and you pretty much have every day of my life during the summer of 1992. I don’t know…maybe I’ve been damaged by thousands upon thousands of tall tales in music and movies, but Ice Cube’s honest portrayal of a Saturday in LA seems a tad mundane. The memories of 7th grade though will never get old.

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  • Bic Bickley

    Freaking Hillarious! I’m rolling. Nicely done.

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