Chapter 4
My Life as Nick Nice
Instead of accepting a partial scholarship to play baseball at Virginia State University, I elected to follow my high school sweetheart, Lourdes, to attend college at Old Dominion University. We were quite crazy for one another, and like most naive teenagers, we thought we were:
2 People
+
2 Gether
=
4 Ever
Needless to say, it didn’t work, but we still keep in contact. We’ve developed a brother/sister type relationship (as most old couples do). In fact, I’m beginning to realize another possible Universal Truth: The longer you’re associated with a lover (past or present), the more likely the relationship will evolve into an annoying brother/sister type experience. We just spent 4th of July weekend together at her place in Ft. Myers, FL, where we enjoyed each other’s company most of the time, while bickering over silly stuff the rest. Can you relate?
Let’s move forward.
While attending ODU, I volunteered for the campus radio station. It was an AM signal, and couldn’t even really be heard—unless you were on one particular corner of one particular street. Nonetheless, I marched in each Friday and Saturday night, with a CD case full of my favorite songs, and learned how to get comfortable behind the mic.
During this time, I was also working at a clothing store called Fine’s, in Chesapeake Square Mall. While working, we tuned in to Z104, the area’s Pop Music station. An upbeat personality named Kevin Scott was rocking the microphone. I decided to call in and ask how I could become a radio personality. He said I was in luck because he needed to hire somebody to cover the late-night shift on weekends. He asked if I had a resume and demo tape. I didn’t have either, but spent the entire night putting my tape together. My “resume” was hand-written. Gangsta.
I imagine they recognized my potential—even though I was rough around the edges. At the age of 18, I began my radio career on Z104 in Virginia Beach, VA.
While on-air at ODU’s radio station, I went by the name “Mr. Right.” Since hardly anyone could pick up the signal, it seemed like a cool radio name to get me started. Not to mention, my enormous ego caused me to believe I was, in fact, “Mr. Right—God’s Gift to Women.” However, when presented with the opportunity to be on a real FM radio station, I decided it was time for a different radio name. I pounded my brain for a last name that ended in the letter “B.” Brandon Bomb—No. Brandon Blaze—Maybe. Brandon Biggs—No.
I knew I wanted something that you could say quickly, sounded hip, and began with the same letter. I decided to go with the name “Nick Nice,” which was assimilated from a weekend radio personality in Pittsburgh, PA.
I had met a “summer love” named Leah, while at the beach, when I was 15. My first airplane flight ever was to Pittsburgh, to spend the following Christmas with Leah and her family. I drove to see her a few other times after I got my license. There I was introduced to the name “Nick Nice.” Leah thought it was a cool name—so I kept it in mind. I had no clue at that point, but it would become my identity for the next ten years.
After working as a part-time employee for radio stations in Virginia and Washington, DC, I was given the keys to the Pop Music station in Birmingham, AL, from the hours of 6 pm to 11 pm, each night.
Imagine being a 21-year-old bachelor in a brand new city—with your own radio show—and girls throwing themselves at you. Unlike most “young celebrities,” I didn’t have a manager to keep me from making stupid decisions. I was learning everything on the fly—and I was living life to the party-boy fullest.
As discussed earlier, I had always made an effort to be cool with everybody, and most people responded well. However, I was learning about something new, as my star began to rise in Birmingham: haters.
Due to the explosion of attention I was being given, more and more people began to “hate.” When you’re the handsome new guy in town, the girls begin to pay attention. This didn’t go over to well with some of the guys—especially when they perceived me as someone who was “trying to act black.”
They didn’t understand (and neither did I) that the Richmond and Birmingham cultures were completely different. I moved to Alabama expecting everybody to be the same as the people in Virginia. It’s not exactly like that. Richmond has a very urban feel to it, while Birmingham is more aligned with Hollywood trends. It’s like Eminem meets The Hills.
As I began to deal with more and more haters, my former “be cool with everybody and they’ll be cool with you” naivety began to fade. I started to become angry and more cynical. It began coming through on my radio show, and I allowed my inner-jerk to come through loud and clear. I’m surprised I didn’t get killed over some of the rude things I said to people.
In my mind, the haters had created a monster, and I felt like I was just reciprocating what was given.
During the Nick Nice phase of my life, I partied more than I wish I had. I certainly hooked-up with more girls than I wish I had. I don’t really beat myself up about it like I used to, because what man in his twenties wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to hook-up with hot girls who were constantly throwing themselves at him?
I’m just glad I learned the value of wearing condoms, while attending sex-education class in school. Thanks Coach Loving! If there’s one “positive note” about my man-whore phase of life—that would be it—my decision to wear condoms.
After analyzing myself, I think all the meaningless hook-ups in my twenties were simply my attempt to “feel loved.” The lack of parental presence from childhood made me feel alone and disconnected. The constant striving to “hook-up” was really just me searching for intimate human connection—even if it was only a temporary fix. Plus, it had always been a competition amongst guys to see who could score with the most girls. I’m not proud to say: I likely won that competition.
The bottom line was this: I really just didn’t have any respect for myself. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even understand the concept of “respecting yourself” when it came to sex. I heard people use the phrase, but it just never made sense to me. Why can’t I have sex with whomever I want, and still have self-respect?
It didn’t help that I was reading a bunch of New Age spirituality books at the time. The New Age philosophy is very liberal when it comes to their ideas on sex. They paint the picture to “do what feels right—as long as you’re not hurting anybody.” However, when it comes to sex, there are a number of hidden prices. Most of the effects of “casual sex” are psychological. A lot of times, you end up regretting your heated, “in-the-moment” decisions of passion.
It wasn’t until later that I learned the importance of only giving your “goods” to the person you loved. Having sex and making love are two completely different experiences—and I prefer the latter.
People place value on things that are scarce (diamonds, oil, attention), and the more frequently you give yourself away, the less perceived value you have. If everyone knows they can have your goods whenever they want, it makes your goods less appealing—less valuable. Understanding this is the beginning of understanding (and cultivating) self-respect.
A lot of young adults are struggling with these temptations nowadays, and I believe most of it stems from not feeling fully loved by their parents. Where the parents of generations past used to be responsible, hard-working role models, parents nowadays would rather be at the bar—taking drunken photos to post on their Facebook page (while leaving their kids to fend for themselves or in the care of another).
Another part of the problem is the “truth programs” young adults are absorbing from modern music and television. Popular culture embraces the “hook-up” mentality, not fully explaining (or even knowing) the consequences. Modern day young adults are constantly trying to fill the parental “love void” through sex, drugs, or other artificial means.
Overall, my Nick Nice experience served its purpose. It gave me a character, through which, I could express certain areas of my personality. I’ve always related to TuPac Shakur, when it comes to this duality. Sure, he was a thug with a lot of anger and instability, but at the same time, he had an incredibly generous heart, loved reading (learning), and was very sensitive to the needs of others—especially the less-fortunate. I guess “Nick Nice” allowed me to express the darker side of my personality.
Now that I’m on the “other side” of the Nick Nice quilt, I can appreciate the beauty in the final product. When the Master Weaver (God) is creating your “life-quilt,” it might seem ugly and confusing from your limited perspective. However, when the work is finished and the quilt is flipped over—you can appreciate the masterpiece.
That’s what I believed happened in my experience; I had to step into the world of temptation and sin (hell), in order to fully experience its destructive power.
As I was able to rise out of the pit, I can relate to all the people who are still in the pit. I can prove—through personal experience—that there’s a way out. This makes my testimony that much more powerful—that much more effective. My life is proof that one can build the strength to resist any temptation.
Although my Nick Nice phase was very self-destructive, it was through this experience that I was able to recognize what I needed to change within—so it served a very valuable purpose.
As you continue reading, I intend to help illuminate the dark areas in your own life, while inspiring you to transform those areas into more productive ways of being!
My Truth says … sometimes you have to discover who you’re not, before you can discover who you choose to be.
What does Your Truth say?