Way back in issue 22, as part of our cribs series, we ran a piece on Bobby Martinez’ house entitled Ready For Fucking Action, Holmes. Charlie Smith was the writer and the story featured such gems as: FUCK! I mean, no disrespect to Bobby Martinez, but why does he want a house like that? Does he like to knit? Well, no, and Bob was hurt that we’d use his neighbourhood and home as a vehicle for our awesome humour. Anyway, Bobby said he’d “cap us in the ass” if we didn’t apologise. What further incentive did we need?
Last year I traveled to Santa Barbara, California in order to describe Bobby Martinez’s home and community. My portrayal was less than flattering. Bobby called me to voice his displeasure: “You talked shit about me, my pad and where I come from. That ain’t acceptable. I don’t know how you get to writing about me when you’ve never even met me or talked to me once. You talked shit on the neighborhood I grew up in and clowned on it like it ain’t shit. If you think I’m gonna let it slide then you need a reality check. Why don’t you come up and see my homies and I and talk shit to us personally. We’ll get you to change your mind real quick. Things are personal now.”
It’s all true, and my decision to write about Bobby and his home, in the way I did, was unfortunate. I regret deeply any injuries that may have been done in the course of the events that led to this decision. I would say only that if some of my judgments were wrong, and some were wrong, they were made in what I believed at the time to be the best interest of Stab.
I can see clearly now... that I was wrong in not acting more decisively and more forthrightly in dealing with Santa Barbara. I let the people down and I brought myself down.
Posts: 4
Reply #4 on : Tue June 10, 2008, 09:55:28