It's a Bird, It's a Plane ...

When Clark Kent takes off his black rimmed glasses, he becomes Superman. Journalistic-astigmatic-nearsighted-wordsmith for the Daily Planet by day. Then, by simply removing his corrective lenses, he becomes a super hero. One minute he's a dork with 20/80 vision, the next he has X-ray vision, can fly faster than a speeding bullet, and is spinning the world backwards to reverse time.

How could Jimmy Olsen, Lois Lane and Perry White have been so blind? Is it really possible that a pair of black rimmed glasses concealed Clark Kent's true identity? If that were the case, you might ask, wouldn't bank robbers simply don a pair of spectacles to escape detection? Imagine bank tellers being interviewed by the police: "What did the robber look like?" The detective would ask. "Well," the teller would say, "he had on glasses, black glasses, it could have been anyone."

As absurd as it may seem, I'm here to tell you that black rimmed glasses can and do hide one's secret identity.

If you haven't figured out the obvious, then let me spell it out. Does it seem more than a coincidence that Superman and I are both nearsighted writers for a local newspaper? Did you really think I chose my eye wear -- black-rimmed glasses -- so that I could run anonymously with the indie rock pack? A few people have noticed, so it's time to clear the air. This dual identity is causing twice the crisis than it should. No, I'm not Superman. How silly. I am Puff Daddy.

Word.

One minute I'm a dork with 20/80 vision, the next I have R&B Hip-Hop vision, spinning records backwards and laying down tracks while sampling the Police. Can I fly? Hell -- I am fly.

Now that I've let you into my private posse, I hope it's possible for you to keep the secret. Keep in mind that you're in a very elite and dwindling crowd. Tupac knew and so did the Notorious B.I.G. (R.I.P.).

Of course Jennifer Lopez is privy to this prized information. Did you ever wonder what she saw in me, I mean, in Puff Daddy? She doesn't love the record mogul/gangster side of Puff. No, not Jennifer. After I allegedly shot up that club in New York City, Jennifer begged and pleaded for me to put on my black glasses. In the limousine, I obliged. She got what she wanted, then, so did I.

Bam.

The name "Puffy" regardless of what you've read, is what J-Lo whispers late at night into the folds of my beer belly. As for me calling her "J-Lo," check it, that's just short for Jacobsen on the low down. Dig dig diggin' it?

It's not often that one reveals his secret identity. So, if you have your doubts, I understand. But ask yourself this question: Have I ever seen Phil and Sean "Puffy" Combs in the same room at the same time? The answer is no. Still not convinced? Then who do you think put the "Ph" in Phat? It, of course, was someone on the inside, someone with clout, someone with "ph," someone named Phil.

Phew! Coming out of the Puff Daddy closet pheels good. And just like fine wine, it was time to serve up the truth. Really the truth started leaking out this weekend when, in my black glasses disguise, I was driving with a few friends and these friends started disrespecting my music. Saying things like, "Puff Daddy isn't a musician, he's a thief." Keeping quiet, I kept on driving. Sampling music is an under-appreciated art form.

Then, things got ugly. My day-to-day girl, Ruth, started giving anti-mad props to J-Lo. Slowly. Looking out the window I removed my glasses, then turned back to the passengers in the car. "If you have something to say to Puff Daddy," I said. "Say it to my face." Not a word, word up, was spoken. It's quite a shock, imagine for yourself, to realize your blue-eyed, blonde friend is really rap mogul megastar Puff Daddy, hiding behind Clark Kent glasses. But they handled it like true friends. Very few autographs. And I had to promise Ruth that I would soon end "it" with J-Lo. She said that if I needed to make "it" look like "it" was J-Lo's decision, that was okay.