I’m back in my kitchen recovered from my Sunday thru Tuesday adventure. For those of you who don’t know, I made my way to Ohio to celebrate the life and the release of my good friend Tero “Camu-Tao” Smith’s album The King Of Hearts.  Last night Camu came to me in a dream. It was a strange experience. Only because in the dream we were working on this story together, Camu over my shoulder telling me delete this, add that, You better remember this part! I’m just telling you because you were crushed, and so on and so on. I found it only appropriate because Tero was definitely in the house on August 16th.  His spirit larger than life and at times you could almost feel him staring at you.  So before I turn this damn story into the sequel to ghost dad– Blair Cosby’s revenge, I give you……..

The King of Hearts….

Sunday- August 15, 3:30am; I’m just getting out of bed and rushing out the door. I’m late; this is nothing new in my world. I never should have decided to pop a handful of Tylenol PM and expect to be able to wake up in four hours without problems. But I felt some rest was definitely needed before catching this flight to the Bus.

It’s not long before I’ve arrived at the airport and make my way through the gates of commuter hell. I’m more excited about this trip than any other trip I’ve made in years. It’s to be a sort of rebirth for me. I’d left Columbus 10 months ago in shambles; both mentally and physically. Now like a Phoenix I was to rise from the ashes of despair and desperation bigger better and more beautiful than ever. No one in the mid west had ever seen a sober and together Edaurdo Jones. I’d changed for the better for once.

I owed much of this change to the very man whose life I was going to celebrate. When Tero died two years ago I swore I was going to stop wasting my talents and do something with my life. Now, this didn’t happen immediately. Shit it took me a year just to put the fucking pipe down and start the process of sobering up. But now 10 months after I left– I was sober and well on my way to using all my wasted talents, and felt my old friend would be proud of me.

Anxiety is chewing on my very soul as seconds pass like millenniums while I wait for the boarding call. But soon my boarding zone is called and I’m in the air. A short layover in DC, then I’m boarding the next jet to Ohio. I’m seated next to a wildebeest with hairier legs than mine. She’s also occupying my window seat. No need to argue about this. I feel she’ll only crush me up against the window. So the aisle is probably best. She’s fast asleep and snoring and farting like a 50 year old bulldozer trying to level a mountain. Nice one Tero, I think as I look at her. Surely this has to be a practical joke sent from the heavens from my old friend.

The flight drags on and on. It’s not over before my sinus’s are burnt from this foul beasts methane expulsions. Soon enough though, I’m off the plane and entering my digital girlfriend’s car.  In this status updating social networking world we live in everybody needs a digital mate.  Fortunately mine looks just as good in person and isn’t some 500lb pervert hiding behind pictures of some bikini model they stole off of a porn site. She’s there at the pickup with a freshly packed bowl of some homegrown Ohio loveliness. Life is good. I’m soon blazed and unpacked.

In no time I’m on my way to pick up Gats. It’s a long overdue reunion with one of my favorite partners in crime. A good solid hour of catching up, ball busting reminiscing, and rapid fire bowl smoking, then we’re off to brunch with some more of the usual suspects.

Steve arrives at lunch with her new boy toy. A young graffiti writer who’s so new to the game he needs a menu to order a Heineken. Jesus, this poor kid doesn’t even know what he’s in for. A few minutes at the table and Gats and I decided it’s time to give Mr. Hanky the old big brother talk. I’m calling him Mr. Hanky because the kid is dressed from head to toe in a multiple shades of shit brown. I’m ready for him to scream Hidy ho, and pick a peanut out of his forehead at any moment.  Gats asks him if he has a cigarette. Mr. Hanky explains he left them in the car. Gats tells him it’d be best if went out to his car and got them. In no time Mr. Hanky is making his way back to his car to retrieve his tasty tobacco treats for Gats.

Upon his return I begin my interrogation in to how exactly he knew my sister and what his intentions were. Gats decides I maybe beating around the bush and explains to Mr. Hanky what I’m trying to say is if you fuck with my sister we will fuck his little ass up quicker than it took him to bust a nut in her guts. I interject that I’ll do anything for Steve including digging a hole and tossing him in it. Needless to say judging by the look on Mr. Hanky’s face it would appear he just gave birth to a few baby hanky’s in his drawers. It’s soon assumed he wore all that brown to mask the shit stains he left in his drawers after our little talk.

The rest of lunch is spent catching up and busting balls. Soon we’re off to Drastic’s lab. It has been a long time since I’ve seen Drastic, but thanks to this facebook age we live in I talk to him now more than I ever did when I lived in Columbus. A marathon session of blunt and bong hits soon ensues. Drastic is just doing his thing playing music and cutting and scratching like the master technique technician he is. It feels as if he’s massaging my brain with the beat.  If you don’t know who Drastic is you don’t know what a real DJ is. This is most definitely the most slept on DJ in the game. I highly doubt there is a DJ out there who could honestly out do him. He works the tables and fader as if they are a part of his body.

After a few hours of blunt smoke and beats I’m higher than I’ve been in forever. I’d spend the rest of the afternoon bar hopping and catching up with friends. Around 8 that evening I made my way over to the Schmoe’s resident to pay a visit on young Eddie and his parents; Joe and Lily. A few hours of reverting back to being a two year old is just what I needed. I love playing with kids. They have a habit of bringing the best out in me. They always relate to me. Perhaps it’s because I’m just a giant kid myself.

After about an hour– Trent, Steve, and Tip Top arrive at the Schmoe’s.  It’s a joyous reunion and before long we’re off to the bars. A slight miscommunication in exactly we’re going later and I’m at Bodega awaiting their arrival. It turns out they decided we we’re going to Skully’s instead. So Sondra and I make the short walk over to Skully’s.

I’m a little pissed that I’m forced to pay a 15 dollar cover for Reggae night, but the price is worth it to see the best bartender Columbus has to offer hands down—Ms. Carla Dodeci.  I’d spend the rest of the night bouncing back and forth between Skully’s and Bodega. The rest of the evening was a blur of heady smoke, pints and toe curling acts of carnal lust.

Monday morning rolls around and I’m not too hung-over, but I’m definitely feeling the previous evening’s aftermath. Nothing a few bowl packs won’t fix though, nothing like some real chronic smoke to ease a bruised and battered brain.  A couple hours of recuperating mixed with Sondra’s liquid lightning strength coffee and I’m ready to take on the day.  I’m off to the Dube for a lunch of just plain French fries. Sondra’s coffee has me feeling as if I just smoked a gram of meth and my appetite is null even though I’ve been smoking weed like my name was Mr. Nice all morning. Gats arrives a short time later with Big Mike and Carla. The drinking begins again and Gats blesses me with a shirt he had made special for just this event.

He had our good friend and tattoo artist Dave Whalebone design an incredible tribute to Camu. Dave has this incredible eye for detail and his art is just clean and beyond precise. If you live in Columbus and like tattoos and don’t let him tattoo you. You are for the lack of a better term a complete and total idiot.  The shirt is unbelievable, Dave captured Camu perfectly and it’s fittingly emblazed with the phrase “All the Kings men” in honor of the release of the King of Hearts.

From here are crew separates to run errands and round up the necessary supplies for the night. I decide to make Bodega my base of operations for the rest of the afternoon.  I’m not there long before I see Metro the other half of the infamous SA Smash and Camu’s ultimate partner in crime. Met is one of those incredible personalities you just love to be around. Every time I hang out with him we just clown and quite often get in some form of the best kind of trouble. The kid is on some next level swagger the world just aint quite ready for.

Soon we’re joined by Supa Dave Haze, another outrageous personality in himself. Dave is Hip Hops answer to Ric Flair. The kid is always styling and profiling. It doesn’t even seem like the three of us have been separated for nearly a year. We haven’t lost a beat and are alive with the mischievous ways the volatile cocktail that our three personalities provide when properly mixed.

A marathon session of one hitters, pints, and laughs later and I make my way to Schwany’s to pregame. I’ve been friends with him since I’d first touched down in Columbus 13 years ago. He also happens to be, another one in a million type; the best friend you could ever have. No matter how insane I’d been or how deep into the gutter I dove over the years– Schwany had always been there for me.

Schwany has an incredible vinyl collection, one for the record books and it’s not long before 12 inch after 12 inch of Camu’s music is hitting the platter. I can do nothing but dance around the room like a man possessed. My spirits are that high. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen my friends and we aren’t even at the show yet. More weed and a few shots of whiskey and everybody we need to go has arrived and we make our way to the show on foot.

I spend the walk talking to the Gooch. It feels good to see Gooch clean and sober, well maybe not sober at the moment, but at least hard drug free. Over the years I’d gotten him wrapped up in one or two of my get rich quick schemes with nothing but horrible results. He surely always was able to see my under lying talents but I only proved to him I was certifiably insane over the years. It meant the world to me to see him in my new state of mind and leading a better life.

By the time we get to the show it’s in full swing. The air is alive with this electric energy words cannot even describe. The whole club is full of smiles, people celebrating and dancing. This is a vibe you want to ride all night.  People are spilling out the doors. The patio is packed and I’m busy catching up with faces I haven’t seen in what feels like eons.

Soon the magic hour is upon us. It’s a few minutes to midnight and time for a moment that’s been years in the making. The debut of Camu’s final masterpiece The King Of Hearts. The dance floor is packed, luckily I’m in the front row of the crowd. EL-P and Metro take the stage to share their thoughts on the moment.  You can hear both of them fighting back the tears as they share their feelings on this moment. Then the music drops and the whole club breaks out in complete and total madness! All you can see is people dancing, smiling and hugging.  The vibe is beyond describable and at times it feels as if Camu himself is on stage just wiling out.  The rest of the party I’d spend in a whirlwind of drinking smoking and reconnecting with friends.

I did find some time to sit and talk with the love of Tero’s life Gayle. I never really knew Gayle while I lived in Columbus or during Camu’s years with her. But since his death I’d exchanged some messages with her back and forth. Gayle had shared with me that Camu had often spoken of me and usually it was out of concern for me. Camu knew I was on the path to self destruction and often shared with Gayle his concerns for me and his wishes that I’d snap out of it and better myself. So in a way it set me at ease to see Gayle in the state of mind I was now in and sharing all the positive events now in my life. To let her know my good friend’s wishes for me that he’d shared with her had become a reality. That honestly was the highlight of my trip. I believe that was my final bit of closure I needed in the loss of my friend.

Soon the final cut of the album is played. There is only one thing to do as a finale. Mr. Dibbs would put it best “If you live in Ohio and you don’t know the words to this song, you got no business saying you know shit about hip hop!”  It’s hold the floor, Columbus’s anthem and the only song that can make you beyond happy and sad at the same time. Needless to say the crowd erupts into a riot the minute beat drops and you can actually hear the crowd singing the hook over the music! It’s a fitting final tribute to the King of Hearts. The energy in that room during that song could have powered the city of Columbus for a whole year.

I’m at least 15 sheets to the wind by now and decide to talk to EL-P. I believe I wanted to tell him I really like to write to his music and the new shit is unbelievable. But what came out was “ Fuck, I like to write stories and your shit is fucking awesome to write fucking stories to fuck yeah!” This wouldn’t be my final run in with EL Producto though. A little later as things were winding down I talked with Gayle some more and she needed to go do some stuff and asked if I’d watch EL-P’s bag of shirts and Cd’s. She was pretty insistent that Sondra and I keep a close eye on the bag and to make sure no one touched it. Well Sondra took this responsibility to the next level. Soon EL-P would arrive at the table to retrieve his bag. Well the minute he touched it Sondra was on him like a rabid pit-bull screaming at him how he better not fucking lay a finger on that bag. I had to jump in and explain it was in fact his bag and to not try and cut his balls off. He did have a rather shocked look on his face, but just shrugged it off and walked away.

Soon the night is over and we’re all congregating in front of Skully’s trying to find out what the game plan was.  It seems just about everybody had found someone to dance the horizontal Mambo with and we’d be going our separate ways to do the deed.

Tip Top, Mike Blast, a friend of Tip’s, Sondra and I would make our way to a young ladies house, who will remain unnamed.  To make a long story short it didn’t take her long to suggest a good old fashioned gang bang. I’d take this as my cue to leave, later the next morning I’d hear all about Tip Top’s great big gang bang adventure.

In closing I’d like to say if you live in Columbus and you didn’t attend The King Of hearts release on Monday night.  You missed out on the best event ever thrown in Columbus. I’m not being biased here either. It was a completely drama free night with an unworldly vibe. It was everything Tero would have wanted and then some.  I’d personally like to thank everyone who attended for making it the unbelievable night it was and leaving all their baggage at the door and making this the fitting tribute that Camu deserved. If you haven’t already you need to buy the King Of Hearts. To put it in simple terms… It’s a fucking masterpiece…….

  1. Drastic says:


  2. justin says:

    Great post, Tero was a great dude!

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