CONVERSATIONS IN GOSPEL

Back to the old landmark...and forward again.

1. “The Reason We Sing” by Kirk Franklin and the Family

Timing is everything. And although he grew up under harsh circumstances, Mr. Franklin, lovingly dubbed “God’s Littlest Christian” by comedian Jay Anthony Brown, came along at the right time; in “God’s own time,” as it were. When this cut hit the airwaves, James Cleveland, who had forever and a day been considered the consummate, yet close-minded Ruler of Gospel had been dead 2 years and this genre of music was in need of a new sound; enter Kirk. Sure, guys like Andre Crouch, Hezekiah Walker and Keith Pringle had shaken things up in the early ‘80s. But urban legend alleged Cleveland’s powerful, far-reaching iron fist on the control of gospel music’s sound would not allow anything like Kirk’s sound or message to make it out of the studios, or to be sang by the choirs, no less. In essence, the old guard was now finally letting go of their grip on gospel. And while satirist have teased Kirk regarding the simplicity of this tune, the traces of “call and response” trademark is unmistakably homage to the early days of gospel and “old time religion.”

2. “You Brought The Sunshine” by The Clark Sisters

From the funky conga drum beat to the disco heavy bass line, this single put the Clark family on the map and stirred quite a controversy. Sure, a few gospel songs such as “Jesus Is The Best Thing,” “Amazing Grace” and “Precious Lord” were known by folk who may have never attended church a day in their life. But YBTS was an instantaneous and the first major gospel crossover hit. It was played on R & B stations nationwide. “Sacrilege!” some sanctified church goers cried. A few pastors would not allow the song to be sung inside their edifice. Still, there was no denying, this cut reached many people, sinners and saints alike.

3. “We Fall Down” by Donnie McClurkin

No song ever said, “Man, I have really and truly messed up…again.” This one did. It goes further to say, “It’s okay.” The heartfelt message in this song came from a man who admits to struggling with sins of the flesh, specifically, homosexuality. The church still does not acknowledge that their organization is often a haven for such activity, but continues to condemn gay people with a vengeance. An impeccable recording environment—live, plus honest lyrics equals a spirit-filled cut. Moving, and of course, popular, this single was in an episode of “Girlfriends,” a show whose premise has very little to do with God or forgiveness. Nevertheless, Rev. McClurkin himself guest starred. Not quite a believable scene, but touching despite the cheesiness factor.

4. “Open My Heart” by Yolanda Adams

Another crossover hit, but important for another reason: Yolanda’s vocals are nothing short of awesome. There are many R & B singers out at the time with sultry sounds—Faith, Mary J. Blige, Aliyah, and even Kelly Price, who straddles the theological fence between gospel and secular music. And there were a few folks still jamming Whitney’s smash singles from the Preacher’s Wife Soundtrack (“Joy,” “I Go To The Rock,” and “I Love The Lord”); but drug dependency and personal issues has stopped the soon-to-be-washed-up diva cold. Air play on hip-hop and R & B stations gives Yolanda an audience she had never had before. This cut stays on the charts probably well beyond its peak. But, come on, who is going to stop playing a gospel cut before being told to do so without fearing going straight to hell on a rocket? Nevertheless, Ms. Adams has terrific range and a diversified sound; most of us knew she had talent when she belted jazz scats on, “My Liberty” back in the early ‘80s. She had earned the right to be “played out.”

5. “Addictive Love” by BeBe and CeCe Winans

Okay, the title is so un-church, so sacrilege. Yet, the Winans family is considered righteous to the infinite power so the title was a mere hic-cup for marketing to handle. Plus, it didn’t hurt that this brother and sister team used to perform on the infamous Praise The Lord Ministries choir. They rocked the mike, remaking the hit, “Love Lift Us Up” to “Lord Lift Us Up,” with spectacular results. When things went south for PTL, BeBe and CeCe had no problem hitting the studio on their own. “Addictive Love” crossed over, as would their follow-up hit, a remake of the Staples Singers’, “I’ll Take You There (with guest vocals from Mavis).” Not as much controversy with this crossover as with The Clark Sisters. It was the early ‘90s and folks were starting to release the long-time grip on the sometimes crippling high standard attached to gospel music. Regardless, this hit added to the Winans family’s cache of success.

6. “Jesus Is The Best Thing (That Ever Happened To Me)” by James Cleveland

For a long time, people accused secular singers of “stealing” from the church. Entertainers like James Brown, Little Richard, Candy Staton, Aretha Franklin, and Ray Charles were scorned for not only leaving their respective churches to pursue careers in R & B, but for taking with them holy rhythms, beats and riffs. Said stolen melodies were unofficially, but righteously deemed only be used to praise the Lord. Cleveland, however, was listening to the radio one day to investigate so he could properly “speak out” against such behavior. When he heard Gladys Knight and the Pips’ “You’re The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me,” I picture him having a weak moment, becoming vulnerable, and getting misty eyed reminiscing over someone who broke his heart. Unable to control himself, he breaks down and cries. When he finally gets a hold of himself, he is ashamed and embarrassed that he has allowed this un-Godly music to affect him in this manner. He must do something to make it right; he’ll write a song using the melody, tune, and beat of the very song that caused his downfall. He will just change a few words and viola! A hit that gives the saints something to rock to, teaches the heathenness traitors a lesson, and also pays repentance for his private moment of shame.

7. “Speak To My Heart” by Donnie McClurkin

While there were hymns like, “Father, I Stretch My Hand To Thee,” and Andre Crouch’s mega hit “We Need To Hear From You,” this cut is a little different. First, you have McClurkin’s falsetto voice over simple backgrounds—nothing flashy or noisy, just a crisp, articulate accompaniment. Powerful lyrics asking for guidance and explain how much we need it. Whether or not one is “going through,” or has simply “come through the storm,” you cannot help but nod your head in agreement and lift your hands to let God know you are “here.”

8. “The Question Is” by the Winans

Putting the Marvin, Ronald, David, Carvin and Daniel on the map should not have been too much of a problem. They had been singing since, well, forever. But these cats, born and raised in the church were clean; squeaky clean. Plus their sound was pure. While The Caravan featuring the likes of Shirley Caesar and Dorothy Norwood were no sinners, either, they still came up the hard way and had to do time on the unofficial gospel chittlin’ circuit. The Winans brothers, unfortunately, had not paid any dues yet. Still, they made a major splash with this tune. Although in form it did not resemble anything the church had heard before, there are faint traces of call and response. Additionally, Marvin’s voice is without question reminiscent of a Baptist minister or deacon, conducting altar call or testimonial service.

9. “‘Old Songs’ Medley” by Carlton Pearson

The term “what is old is new” comes to mind with this cut. Though Pearson talks a little too much in during the intro, he gives a vivid description of what it was like “back in da’ day.” Despite being a staunch conservative Republican who once stated that there is no longer a need for a civil rights movement in this day and age,* the extremely gifted Pearson begins with “Hold To God’s Unchanging Hand,” and then goes into “I’m A Soldier (In The Army of the Lord);” the hand clapping, foot stomping worship culminates with, “I Get Joy When I Think About What He’s Done For Me.” Again, Pearson gives detailed description before giving a slow tempo, soul wrenching rendition of “By and By,” and then “Use Me Lord.” Pearson pauses from singing to give more narration; this time, you can tell he wants to weep as the memories seem to reach ahead from years ago and have him captive. Ironically, he begins to perform, “Just Another Day That The Lord Has Kept Me.” The Old Songs Medley is proof that this dude has lived these songs and knows what he is talking about. His performance on the entire Azuza project, particularly with these series of songs, contains such feeling that it almost belies his political beliefs. Pearson’s viewpoints aside, all of the Azuza albums, especially this first one say, “yes, you can go home again.”

10. “Stand” by Donnie McClurkin

Maybe just a tad ahead of its time, yet right on time, this cut has hit written all over it. McClurkin’s voice, defiant, yet reverent, encouraging the most down-hearted saint to “keep on keepin’ on” and not to give up. But it also reminds the listener to do what is required: pray. And pray some more. This emphasizes that God, while he does not need our help to do anything, doesn’t allow us to be lazy.

11. “Glory To Glory To God” by Fred Hammond and Radical For Christ

This dude paid attention in Sunday School, revival, and Wednesday Bible Study, for sure! Lyrics like, “…tell the generation, from the mountain to the valley, by His spirit the victory is won.” And he lets you know that praising God is a joy as well as a necessity with lines like, “…for the Lord, is worthy to be praise, his hand of salvation redeems us this hour…be glory, honor, dominion and power,” and “let the people praise him, rejoice in all his goodness and the marvelous things he has done.” There ain’t no shame in Fred’s game: he loves the Lord with all his heart and this tune conveys his hopes that anyone listening feels the same way.

12. “This Is Another Day” by Andre Crouch

Taking a classic, revered gospel hymn (“This Is The Day That The Lord Has Made”) and turning into a finger-snapping, bluesy cut, spells guts with a capital “g.” But Mr. Crouch was also about changing things up across the board. He brought forth old school church music (“Soon and Very Soon”) with a new school touch, but did not push for all the hooping, hollering, and shouting that was the required norm. Instead, Crouch added nu skool jazz with a touch of pop. Additionally, his earlier albums have strong, undeniable Polynesian themes. His music, while still very gospel, and faintly southern Baptist-slash-Pentecostal, crossed over into mainstream Christian music; much of his work can, in fact, be considered “pre-contemporary gospel.”

13. “In The Morning” by Mary Mary

Some would argue that “Shackles” should be listed here. True, that made a huge splash for the dynamic duo of gospel. But this cut has more crossover ingredients than the average gospel song. More than, “You Brought the Sunshine.” More than “Addictive Love.” More than even, any of Kirk’s cuts. It is the conga drums, with the dancing violins and the slightly sultry yet ever so sanctified vocals. These sisters do not try to hide their love for the Lord, or that they are in fact beautifully talented Christian women. Their harmony sounds as if they could be singing in a church in Atlanta or in a club in Harlem. Nevertheless, they “keep it holy” and their throw down performance on this one is reminiscent of Dorothy Norwood and Shirley Caesar back in the day.

14. “Jesus Can Work It Out” by The Mississippi Mass Choir

Not only this project give testimony that gospel was still alive and well in M-i-crooked-letter-crooked-letter-i-crooked-letter-crooked-letter-i-hump-back-hump-back-i, folks there were sure that Jesus would in fact, work it out. Running down a litany of “what can go wrong” on any given day (i.e., bills due and no money), nevertheless there is assurance that once you “give it over to the Lord,” he will take care of it. No rhyme or reason as to how or even why, just the guarantee that it was done. ‘Nuff said.

15. “Oh Happy Day” by Walter Hawkins

Recorded live in the late 60’s er’ choir thereafter ripped this cut. Originally a hymn, OHD was written in the mid-eighteenth century, by Phillip Doddridge, an English clergyman. This song became the “b” in the “‘a’ and ‘b’” selection choirs were often called upon to render during Sunday morning service.

Honorable Mention

“Jesus Is The Reason” by Kirk Franklin

Okay, okay, almost every Kirk Franklin cut should be on the list, but alas, they just cannot be. Still, this one has so many levels of smacking tradition in the face that I have to mention it. The line about not needing “material things,” and that “Santa Claus ain’t got nothing on this,” is finally a beautiful denouncement of the commercialization on Christmas; it is a message that the church had been trying to vocalize for a long, long time. Kirk pushes the envelope across the line and off the proverbial cliff by snatching at popular rapper Biggie Smalls a.k.a. Notorious B.I.G. with, “I love it when you call Him your savior.” Kirk makes no secret that he does in fact listen to rap—and rap with explicit lyrics to boot. His spin on Smalls’ lyrics says, “it’s okay, ‘cause God loves, you, me, Biggie and er’body.” There is none of the previous hate between the secular world and the church.

“Call Him Up” by Keith Pringle

While Cleveland and others were struggling to keep the sound “revered” and stuck in the 60’s, this song undoubtedly pulls gospel into the 1980’s. Yet the early roots of gospel are evident despite the bluesy melody. From the piano riff, to the hand clapping, foot stomping breaks until the last note, CHU is the song sang before “pastor steps up to preach.” Additionally, the modernized arrangement of call and response in the lyrics “can’t stop praising His name” with “praise His holy name,” and the simple call back of “Jesus,” can cause the average church-goer to either rock in their pew or jump out of their seat and go racing up and down the sanctuary aisles.

*Carlton Pearson’s statement regarding civil rights and his opinion that there is no longer a need for it in present day can be heard, verbatim on Live In Azuza 2.

SEEN/HEARD
And The Children Shall Lead Them...

This post is dedicated to the memory
of
Maurice McIver

Almost the entire 8th grade class at Intermediate School 318 in the South Bronx recently refused to take a 180 minute practice test. The diagnostic social studies exam, issued in six different classes, is in preparation for another test next month. This specific test does not, in any way, have an affect on grades.

The students' protest was mostly peaceful; all quietly handed in blank exams. There was a small skirmish involving a teacher who was angry over the protest, but nothing worth going into detail (BTW: none of the kids are going to ask this uptight bonehead to sign their yearbook).

The students even submitted signed petitions with a list of grievances to the principal and the Board of Education. They advise that they are sick of being used as "test dummies."

There are a couple of editorials on this incident. Most concur with something that I have been saying since I graduated high school back in the late '80's. Children in America aren't being taught to "think." They are being "taught to test." The NYC Board of Ed is doing its best to suppress the real issue here and get back to business as usual. That business being paying companies who do not have any stake at all in the community millions of dollars to test our kids on shit they may never, ever use in life.

Last weekend proved deadly in the Big Apple; quite a few teenagers were shot--one even lost his life. Ironically, one of the accused in the deadly incident was on a conditional release stemming from a gun charge last year. Why is it the powers that be are okay with children having illegal weapons but get all igged out about them staging a quiet protest? I'd rather see picket signs and petitions than pistols in our children's hands.

The 8th graders at 318 have taken a stand and I say, "more power to them!"

Axe.

Currently Reading: The Message: 100 Life Lessons from Hip-Hop's Greatest Songs by Felicia Pride
Currently Listening To: (what else) Fight The Power by Public Enemy, and Jesus Children of America by Sir Stevie Wonder

Links for stories on IS 318:

Bronx 8th Graders Boycott Exam
Civil Disobedience: Bronx 8th Graders Refuse The Test
Apathy Doesn't Live In The Bronx

FILTHY...
...And Yet Artistic

At a recent gathering with about half a dozen intelligent Afro-Americans discussing politics, "how things 'used to be,'" love, life, and playing cut-throat Monopoly, the conversation turned briefly, to sex. And of course, it got quite necessarily smutty. I say necessary because well, no matter how pristine a person's life may be, there is always a dab of smut somewhere. Everybody. Even if it is in their closet, buried under a stack of neatly folded clothes inside of a shoe box.

We happened to be discussing FUBU movies (for us, by us). We agreed that some have been excellent (Life, Get On The Bus, Ray, Dreamgirls) and argued about ones we thought should have gone straight to DVD, if at all. We were at odds on John Singleton's Baby Boy. However, all the women agreed 100% that the scene with Vhing Rhames and AJ Johnson leap frogging across the floor makes the film redeemable. Smut; it unifies, even when divided.

Got me to thinking what movie scenes that were smutty, yet creative and memorable, regardless of whether the film itself was good, or not.

8. She's Gotta Have It: Too many to list and describe here, so I'll just say, "all but one of the scenes where Nola (Tracy Camilla Johns) 'does the do' with one of her three suitors." Ya dig?

7. Jason's Lyric: This classic love story with the semi-happy ending has two scenes that almost make a girl wish she grew up in Houston's Fifth Ward and Alan Payne would come rescue her. Granted both scenes are pretty much the same--mad, passionate love making. Still, there are different circumstances involved with each. Down at the bayou, it is the "first time" for Lyric (Jada Pinkett Smith) and Jason (Alan Payne); homeboy washes her feet--say what? The other tryst occurs after a disagreement, and takes place in the television repair shop where our knight in shining armor works. It is late and there is a thunderstorm; no Teddy Pendergrass or Luther Vandross required.

6. Love Jones: Poetry and jazz. Chicago Stepping and a man with a motorcycle. Love at first sight and sex on the first date. 'Nuff said.

5. Baby Boy: Mama/Juanita (AJ Johnson) has already told her son, Joseph, "you need your own place." But she shows us up close and damn near in 3-D why. Her new man, Melvin (Ving Rhames), an ex-con, has moved in. She and her beau get down with their bad selves, in stereo, as they hop across the floor, making love "froggy style." Putting a little twist on the Pete Rock and CL Smooth tune "They Reminisce Over You," "...Mama's getting freaky in the house!"

4. The Best Man: During his wedding, football superstar Lance Sullivan (Morris Chestnutt) is still reeling after learning that his best man, Harper (Taye Diggs) slept with his "virgin" bride, Mia (Monica Calhoun) back in college; visions of Mia and Harper knocking boots (and well) continually flash through Sullivan's mind as he struggles to hold it together at the altar. The graphic, moan-filled scenes bring Sullivan's hypocritical, misogynist, forever-cheating ass to tears.

3. How Stella Got Her Groove Back: This May-December couple has undeniable chemistry. But after bringing her boy toy back to the states with her, the honeymoon slowly dissipates and there is constant friction. One last argument leaves Stella (Angela-always-has-fine-
leading-men-Bassett) and Winston (Taye-should-have-been-MY-
baby-Daddy) on the verge of breaking up. And like all fights there is tension, which builds to the most passionate yet tasteful love making on screen that this viewer had seen in a long time. Director Kevin Rodney Sullivan who made his motion picture debut with HSGHGB, shows us that there is nothing, I mean nothing like making up!

2. The Wood: Aleshia (Malinda Williams) and "Big" Mike (Sean Nelson), are teenagers who have been best friends for a few years. They are also both virgins. Their awkward sexual encounter is touching, funny, and causes you to sigh. Do you remember your first time?

1. Claudine: Our leading lady, Claudine (Diahann Carroll) is a mother with six children living on welfare in Harlem during the 1970's. She meets an intelligent, fine-as-all-outdoors garbageman named Rupert (James Earl Jones) out in the 'burbs where she works off the books to supplement her meager welfare check. She hesitantly agrees to go to out with him. The date has a very rocky start. When the two are finally alone, they argue briefly. Suddenly, but not surprisingly, Claudine and Rupert are rocking each other's world like their lives depended on it. This is old school smut, but it is classic and priceless.

Currently Reading: We've Gotta Have It--20 Years of Seeing Black At Movies by Esther Iverem
Currently Listening To: Epiphany by Jill Scott

WHAT YOU SEE, IS WHAT YOU GET...?
Does "Writing" The "Wrongs" Mean I'll Be Broke

It took many years for me to officially become a writer. Writing is something I have always loved and it has been quite some journey getting "here." Along the way, I have done my best to keep my skills honed, writing whenever and wherever I can, even if sometimes it means doing so for free.

Also, along the way, I listened to those who were "doing what they loved." One such person was Tavis Smiley. Mr. Smiley, a Black activist-slash-man of considerable intelligence-slash-radio host-slash-television hot-slash-author, always has tips for improving oneself. The advice to black people to "read stuff other than Jet, Ebony and Essence" was something that struck a chord with me.

As a result, I started watching and became fascinated with "60 Minutes." On the surface, the show is boring. But then I began to dissect some of the stories they ran. Some had a spin on it that I, as a journalist could see right through. A few however, left me wondering: are the shows' producers pro or con on the war, are they part of this country's racial problems or solution, how much longer are they going to subject us to Andy Rooney's commentaries, etc.

Still, yet another question was born: will journalism leave me poor and looking broke down? Sure, Diane Sawyer, Barbara Walters, and a few others always look good. But some of the real hard-hitting reporters, especially the ones on "60 Minutes," look like hell. During the two years that I avidly watched the show, beyond being enlightened, I noticed quite a few things. The late (and great) Brother Ed Bradley who worked almost up until he passed away, was in serious need of dental repair. Leslie Stahl cannot afford contacts or at the very least, a pair of glasses that do not look like she picked them up at the grocery store.

And, while I dig that Andy Rooney loves comfortable shoes, he works for the oldest news show on television. Surely he can afford some new kicks; ones better than the truly dogged out pair he showed America...or can he?

Axe.

Currently Reading: Not a doggone thing!
Currently Listening To: God Bless The Child by David Peaston

BLACK FLIGHT: WHAT I COULDN'T PUT INTO WORDS
(The Mega Mess of the Nuevo Mega-Church)

...this guy, a preacher, quite ironically, said it very articulately. Had a hard time explaining to my religious-to-infinity mother, what, exactly are the issues I have with churches today. I'm no atheist. I possess an indescribable belief in the power of prayer and know first hand that faith does work when it is applied in generous doses.

Still, I am just not very fond of the current state of "church." It has changed; there is less fellowship, more building fund, less holy ghost, more hierarchy.

But as the minister preached, he described the church's recent "Black Flight."

I smiled.

Ah, I knew there was a way to describe the very vivid, tangible abyss that I saw in our neighborhoods.

Guess what happened, in my opinion, is that one day the mega churches gobbled up all of the neighborhood, storefront or community churches. Then with all their newfound energy, the super mutant ninja churches left the 'hood-- burning rubber while driving away in a Mercedes, and moved out to the 'burbs. This black flight, as it were, has left struggling, inner city neighborhoods void of fellowship and spiritual nourishment.

Furthermore, anyone left in the hood--those who just simply cannot seem to get out of that hole, they are no longer viewed valuable to the congregation. With a 5,000-seat edifice with all the extras, it becomes less about Mother Henderson, who has watched you and your siblings grow up, and more about Andrew Jackson and Ben Franklin (ya heard?).

Proof of this theory is apparent at Destiny World Church. Already neatly located in Cobb County, Georgia, right off I-20 in a state of the art facility less than five years old, DWC took the whole "live, work, play" idea to another level. In 2006, DWC decided that in addition to the two Sunday services in Austell, they would also start worshipping in Atlantic Station in the ballroom of the Twelve Hotel. Atlantic Station is the new swanky shopping oasis in the heart of mid-town Atlanta. In an interview back in '06 (Live, Work...And Pray), the pastor claimed this decision was to reach those who "might not want to travel far for their religion." Hmmm...but why not hold those same services in the West End, or East Point? Plenty of folk there, but not nearly as much money. Guess that wouldn't be a good investment...but I digress.

The pastor also asserted that the services would be "convenient." I would say so. See, away from the hood, where people really need God, and neatly tucked away in this "safe" part of town, no one will have to answer the question of why pastor and other church officials drive $40,000 cars and most of the parishioners ride the bus.

And to be real, with all the members, numerous Sunday services and the multitude of extra curricular events going on in Mega Churches, there just isn't any room for real bonding. Nobody knows your name. It is quite possible to go to the same church as someone from your job or even your neighbor from down the street and never speak to them or ever see them.

Yes, the world has become a very crowded place. But I'd much rather go back to the day when your church was within walking distance (or at least a hop and a skip on public transit) and "home away from home." As I discussed this issue with my mother, I posed this query: how can people be expected to work all week, then trudge to a church for Bible study when the church has up and moved out to the boonies?

It is almost like expecting your car to get by on the same amount of gas, although the filling station has been moved very , very far away and one has to travel two to three times the distance just to fill up?

Axe.

Currently Reading: The Message: 100 Life Lessons From Hip-Hops Greatest Songs by Felicia Pride
Currently Listening To: Three Little Birds by Bob Marley

SEEN/HEARD
(I Got To Be Me)

"...I'm constantly late. Being on time is for white people."
--Singer Erykah Badu

I would not wait for this heifer if she did not arrive on time for a scheduled meeting; keeping someone waiting is inconsiderate and a sign of disrespect.

Still, I will unashamedly admit, I love this quote and I'm digging Erykah's style. Brutal honesty, although in this case a little self-destructive, is like a breathe of fresh air on a muggy day; welcomed relief from all the "heaviness." When there is bullshit going on, honest answers to tough questions separate the lies from the truth. Ms. Badu lets us know up front: as an African-American, she will not be confined by time (I wonder if how "E" would handle an IRS audit? The IRS doesn't have a lot of real love for us folk these days; just ask gospel singer Yolanda Adams...).

Again, I do not dig blatant tardiness, but respect and appreciate that Ms. Queen Neo-Soul freely expresses herself, even at the risk of sounding a tad racist. Shit, if I was not already impressed by her singing and writing skills before, I would be now.

Do you, girl! I may never interview Miss "Too-Eccentric-For-Her-Own-Damn-Good," or ever get to work with her, nevertheless she handle hers!

Axe.

Currently Reading: We Gotta Have It--20 Years of Seeing Blacks At The Movies by Esther Iverem.
Currently Listening To: Honey by Erykah Badu (but of course!)

SILENT APPROVAL
(The Natural Actions of the Complacent and Confused)

Those who are my skin folk ain't necessarily my kin folk.
--Zora Neale Hurston (1938-1960)

The comment was simple, but simply not acceptable.

Recently discussing the Sean Bell murder case with an African American who did not know the deal. Sean, a brother in NY was shot 50 times by NYPD in the early morning hours in November 2006. He was leaving his bachelor party and due to be married 12 hours later. The three police officers in the case were charged, but alas found not guilty.

While talking about the shock waves the verdict is causing in the black community, this "brother (and I use that term lightly)", suggested that Al Sharpton and the rest of us who are outraged, "need to leave that alone." By "that,"he meant protesting the verdict. I threw my head back, yet said nothing as I looked at this 'bama (he is indeed from heart of Dixie; bomingham, no less).

What he fails to understand is that by keeping quiet during times of injustice, we are saying it is okay--it is okay to drag that man behind a truck until he is dead. It is okay to charge more interest for loans in the 'hood. It is okay to give stiffer penalties for non-white collar crimes. It's okay...

Axe.

Currently Reading: The Message--100 Life Lessons From Hip-Hop's Greatest Songs by Felicia Pride
Currently Listing To: All Along The Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix

SEEN/HEARD
(Where in the heck is this child's parents?)

"You should know, you know that ahhh
Kriss Kross is not having anything today
As we stand there totally crossed out
We commence to make you

Jump Jump!"

What the entire gymnasium saw every time the "star" participant in a YMCA basketball game scored:


What we heard the ref tell this player's coach after the sixth or seventh full moon:

"...If I have to tell him to pull up his shorts one more time, it will be a technical foul. I don't want to see his underwear and neither does anyone else."

--Don Estes, Referee for YMCA (Columbus, OH)

Was at a recent YMCA game where early on, all of players were sternly advised to tuck in their shirts and secure their shorts via the drawstring. I was offended, irate and totally pissed off that three players at this inner-city basketball game felt they were special and did not need to heed the rules. Two of the players were on my son Sneadly's team and continuously allowed their shorts to "hang low."

One player was ridiculous. So much so that one of the refs constantly stopped the game to tell him to "get right." Each time, the 6'2" 17-year-old scowled. The youngster, is of course the highest scorer and a ball hog. That's no hate, it's true. He needs a serious lesson in teamwork and fair play and other parents have complained about him. Not surprisingly, the little Be-Be's kid got indignant when he was threatened with a technical fowl.

At almost 40, I remember the rap duo Kriss Kross and how hot the backwards and sagging pants were; but what this fad has evolved into is simply a nightmare. And, damn can we go back to the day when if an elder spoke to you, you did as you were told without any ifs, ands, or buts...

Axe.

Currently Reading: I Wish I Had A Red Dress by Pearl Cleage Currently Listening To: Run For Your Life by Robert Randolph and the Family Band, AND, Permanent Imprint by (poet) Shanelle Gabriel

BELIEVE

Hebrews 11:1

Had a 6th grade teacher, a nun, no less, that gave my classmates and I an easy way to remember how to spell the word "believe." The very late Sister Mary John Boscoe would say, "Even if you truly believe something, there is always a lie right in the middle of it."

Wow.

Almost thirty years later, her words still hang on me.

Headly, Sneadly and I are temporarily living in the mid-west. Columbus, Ohio to be exact. It's the state capital and a college town. Was on the way to Whole Foods yesterday near OSU (my Bohemian/Buppie Heaven) and saw a guy pushing his vehicle. As he moved with all his might, I could hear his body crying "ouch." It was a mini-van, too; triple "ouch."

With all my heart, I wanted to get out and help this guy. I've been stranded by the side of the road more times than I care to remember. Some times people stopped, but most times they didn't. Dude was going the opposite direction and that part of Lane Ave. does not allow for parking, let alone stopped vehicles. I was in the car with Sneadly, who is 14 and cannot drive yet. Plus, traffic was flowing pretty swift. Making a u-turn would have been tough. Cars were flying past this guy and nobody was stopping. I scanned ahead to the next block, thinking maybe I could park up there and run back. But it looked like a No Parking zone, too.

So, I did all I could do. I prayed for help.

Just as I said "Amen," an older gentleman stopped. He and his son jumped out and began pushing, while his wife took the wheel of their car. It was amazing. And when I said they starting "pushing the hell out of that mini-van," I declare there almost appeared to be a cloud of dust rising up under their feet!

I need to add that help arrived just as the guy was approaching a hill. I am sure he knew that hill was there, but he did not stop and kept going anyway. His perseverance is remarkable.

Never give up; never quit. And keep the faith.

Axe.

Currently Listening To: All Along The Watchtower (There Must Be A Way Out Of Here) by Jimi Hendrix, and Turn, Turn, Turn by the Byrds

Currently Reading: I Wish I Had A Red Dress by Pearl Cleage

AND...
Recently Watched (again): The Battle at Kruger on YouTube (talk about faith!)

YOUR SOUND, YOUR RESPONSIBILITY

Recently went to my Mom's Djembe (gym-bay) class. She has been studying for almost 4 months. Learned a lot at this particular block of instruction.

First, drumming is usually only played for special occasions: wedding ceremony, birth of a child, harvest celebration, a visitor approaching the village, etc. That is it. There is no practicing in between. One must know their part and play the hell out of their drum when it is time; hence, a good memory and skill is key.

Also, the drummer, specifically the master drummer, is charged with protecting the dancers. For instance, they would signal the dancers, through certain beats, if they are too close to the crowd.

But overall, what I found very interesting is that all drummers are responsible for their sound. In selecting a drum, they find one that is the right "fit." If having one built from scratch, it is a drummer's responsibility to make sure the carpenter carving a drum for him knows his needs and expectations. They must communicate constantly regarding the type of wood, how the drum is to be carved (depth, width, etc.), the skin, etc.

Moreover, the drummer is also responsible for every move his hands make. He is in control. If he sends out bad or ill vibes, it is on him and no one else.

So when Curtis Jackson spews poisonous, self-destructive, genocidal words like, "I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love, I got the x if you into drugs..." he, and other artists like him (irresponsible talent-less sellouts) show the world how little they care about their audience, our people or the sound they produce. Their music is not worthy of our dollars or our time.

We, the consumers and listeners, should take a page from hip-hop group Dead Prez' book. The everso-controversial, non-commercialized, non-mainstream duo does not get played on the radio much; maybe it has something to do with one of their hits, "Turn Off The Radio (Turn Off That Bullshit)." The cut has lyrics like:

We rollin dirty wit it, fully dedicated
So real that the radio'll never play it
But that's cool, the enemy supposed to hate it

What's on the radio, propoganda, mind control
And turnin it on is like putting on a blindfold
Cuz when you bringin the real you don't get ro-tation
Unless you take over the station
And yeah I know its part of they plans
To make us think it's all about party and dancin
And yo it might sound good when you spittin your rap
But in reality, don't nobody live like that

Platinum don't mean it gotta be hot
I ain't gotta love it, even if they play it a lot
You can hear it when you walk the streets
How many people they reach, how they use music to teach
A "radio program" ain't a figure of speech
Don't sleep, cuz you could be a radio freak.

Axe.

Currently Reading: I Wish I Had A Red Dress by Pearl Cleage
Currently Listening To: (what else) Turn Off The Radio by Dead Prez, Drumline Final Battle from the Drumline Soundtrack?

YES WE CAN...!


(...be on time! )

Went to hear a little spoken word last night. Great experience although I had been suffering from a splitting headache since about 5 a.m.; and aspirin is not an option unless I feel the urge to have someone shoot me. Thought about slapping a cop a few times, but I digress...

Arriving at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe around 9:25, the doors had not yet opened. But by 9:35, the very long line began to inch forward. Now the NPC website states emphatically, verbatim-punctuate-em, that the Slam starts "around 10." Things got to pop-a-locking around 10:15. Not bad at all, especially in comparison to another spot down south that shall remain nameless 'cause I really do like the place, and I sincerely hope that one day, sooner than later, they "get right." The unnamed bohemian iconic, historical joint started their weekly spoken word set almost 2 hours late when I was there last month.

See, punctuality is a serious issue for me. At 30-something damn near 40, I severely dislike, being late. It has always been a personal challenge that I have for the most part, overcome. Yet er' once in a while, I still have issues with being on time. Furthermore this last time around in the military I actually got written up for it (three weeks before I got out, no less; can u dig that?). To me, tardiness is a sign of disrespect, regardless as to if it is simply a matter of something you were supposed to do for yourself or making someone else wait.

I remember growing up and my Mom yelling, screaming, putting us on punishment and all that jazz to get us to understand that in order to "be somebody," we have to be on time. We learned the lesson and did well. Ironically, now Mommy's always the one who is late...(wait, is she reading this thing?)

The thing that had me igging (old school word; do not attempt to use if you are under the age of 35) about the late start at the spoken word event in Atlanta, is that I wasted 1 hour and 40 minutes--100 minutes, 6,000 seconds, that I can never get back. I did my best to make good use of the time, by calling people who I had not yet spoken with in over a year and confabbing with the bartender. I also contemplated asking for a refund and going home. By that time, though, the show was already 45 min. late. More importantly, the lack of live spoken word for 12 months, 8 days, had me so thirsty for "the word" that I couldn't possibly leave.

Overall, the decision was mine as to what to do, or not to do with my time. Nevertheless, I still felt those in charge offended me by opting to start the show late because a few of the poets were running late and the crowd was a little thin. Perhaps they would have given me back my money if I had asked for it. It is tangible and real. But the time, that is also very real, is much more precious than money and something they could never, ever replace.

It is 2008. Operating on "cp" time is not acceptable, should not be tolerated and should be discouraged at every turn.

Currently Reading: I Wish I Had A Red Dress by Pearl Cleage Currently Listening To: Respect Yourself by The Staple Singers, Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now by McFadden and Whitehead

SEEN/HEARD
(Oh hell to the no!)

In the supermarket the other day in Brooklyn, scanning the aisles, and saw a peculiar sight: a bottle label with a fully nude woman and probably partially nude man in the throws of passion (say what?!?!).



"Pump It Up," is an organic roots tonic, which is supposed to help with sexual stamina.

Um, take me back to the day when Viagra wasn't sold on the shelf of a grocery store right above the Epsom Salt.


Currently Listening To: Think Of You by Ledisi
Currently Reading: I Wish I Had A Red Dress by Pearl Cleage

DOWN TO THE WIRE

All week long the tension had been building.

The question: could the New York Giants beat the undefeated New England Patriots in Super Bowl XLII?

Not only did the Pats have a perfect season and hadn’t stuttered once, the Giants had not been in a Super Bowl in a minute and they started the season off 0-2. Coach Coughlin's job was in serious jeopardy at the end of last season and all through this year's play-offs, the team was the underdog. I wanted the Giants to win, but had serious doubts. This was going to be tough. In my mind, unless there was a blow-out—in the Giants’ favor, it just didn’t look good. But then what did I know? I am a die hard Buffalo Bills, Knicks, and Mets fan. None of these teams has seen the inside of a final round play-off game in over 14 years. Although not a Giant fan, but a tru Nu Yawker, I, like the millions of other fans, wished the team well in defeating the snooty team from "Bah-ston."

I watched the game at Solomon’s Porch Café located on Stuyvesant in the heart of Bed-Sty, Brooklyn (where else?). I sat in the corner, tapping away on my laptop, and occasionally chatting with the other patrons, a couple of whom, I believe were New England fans (say what?). We were glued to the screen (well, 70% of the time I was). It was a nail-biting, down-to-the-wire, hold-on-to-your-hat, photo-finish. Both teams’ defense lines did their jobs (hence the low score) and allowed very few first downs. In the fourth quarter, the lead changed four times.

What a game; and what an example. As Americans, we are plagued by so much right now; bird flu, identity theft, Eblola virus, pedophiles, terrorism, school shootings, drug wars--and that's just the morning news. Easy to just give up and throw in the towel. Alas, however, I have decided from here forth, to take a different approach. Not just because of this game, but because life itself has been too good to me thus far to ditch any of my dreams or goals.

Sure, things get tough, but it wouldn't be life if it didn't. I'm pretty sure the Giants would have loved it if they had walked out on the field and simply been able to waltz away with the championship. But then, it would not have been much of a game, would it have? The Pats brought their "A through Z" game, stifling their opponent and gaining the lead late in the game. Yet the Giants managed to stay focused when faced with a serious challenge: down by four points with only two and a half minutes left to play. Not much time to pull things together, but they did. When the final buzzer sounded, they were the champions.

That's how we have to treat life. Stay in the game, keep focus and play your ass off until the fat lady sings--in stereo!

Axe.

Currently Listening To: Native New Yorker by Odyssey, New York, New York by Frank Sinatra

Currently Reading: Speak So You Can Speak Again by Zora Neale Hurston

SEEN/HEARD
(The Very Invaluable Reality Check)

Don't really want to quote this one; just have to tell it as it happened. Was in the grocery store in Brownsville/Bed-Sty yesterday. A woman and her teenage daughter ahead of me were having difficulties. Apparently the woman did not have enough money on her EBT card. She also had some other type of card, but it was not sufficient enough. After several attempts at swiping the card and also putting a few things back, the woman gave up and left the store without the groceries.

The woman's clothes were not tattered, nor did she or her daughter appear to be destitute or poverty stricken (but don't get it twisted; they were not wearing Baby Phat or Prada, like many people think welfare recipients do). They were neat, clean and looked like "ordinary people."

Been a little sheltered for a minute now. In the military, one becomes blindly accustomed to "three hots, a cot, and steady check with benefits," dangerously oblivious to the realities of life. This can cause the average soldier, sailor, etc. to look down on those who struggle in civilian life. So over the past 16 months, my thinking has been a little jaded.

But I was never naive.

Yes, I always knew that people go hungry everyday, even while the US spends millions on millions in Iraq and Afghanistan (that's a whole "other" blog site that I am working on, though, so we won't go there). When I see homeless people asking for change outside Walgreen's on Piedmont in Atlanta or hustling at the Hess gas station on Atlantic and Ralph in Brooklyn, I realize, "Yes, I am blessed."

Yesterday, though, as I looked at these two people, a mother and a child, who looked very much like me--hell, could have been me, I was struck to say, "Damn, people are hurting. For real."

Currently Listening To: Mama's Always On Stage by Arrested Development
Currently Reading: Babylon Sisters by Pearl Cleage

'ROUND THE WAY GIRL

It dawned on me today as I crossed Atlantic Ave. that during my 18 years growing up in New York City, I never, ever saw a news crew in my neighborhood.

That is, of course until today. Not sure what was going on. There wasn't a crowd or anything, so nothing of true significance, I am sure. Still, this was the first time I can recall seeing the media taking a real interest in my part of the 'hood.

And there was plenty going on. Like the time Rita's mom and boyfriend were fighting and the boyfriend threw the television out the window (4 stories down; no Honeymooners' reruns that night). What about my first day of school--it should be a national holiday, you know. Then there's the rip-roaring block parties we had throughout the 80's and 90's. Or the summer days we gleefully played in the water being sprayed from the johnny pump (that's a fire hydrant for you youngsters).

How about the numerous trash-talking filled softball, handball or basketball games peacefully played in the park across the street from my parents' house? Or the silly pranks the boys in the neighborhood pulled, like the Wedgie Game (Lawrence was the only one who ever cried)? Or when Mike, Black Mike and Sammy all got shot for being in the wrong place at the right time; Sammy survived and is currently a NYC Corrections Officer.

So while some news crew or another may have wandered into Bed-Sty, Brownsville or East New York, during the time I was growing up here, I never saw them. Ever. Yet I always wanted to be a journalist. It wasn't watching Sue Simmons or Chuck Scarborough on the local NBC news that fostered my desire to pursue journalism. They were just images on the screen and weren't necessarily real to me. Still, I loved writing; especially the who, what, where, when and why (and sometimes "how").

Which proves that it is, in fact, very possible to grow almost anything out of nothing.

Currently Reading: Speak So You Can Speak Again: The Life of Zora Neale Hurston by Lucy Hurston
Currently Listening To: (what else?) Round The Way Girl by LL Cool J

SEEN/HEARD

I was very moved by the Brooklyn Congregations Together (BCT) sponsored Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day Celebration. I was also enlightened, inspired and, alas quite amused by some of what I heard; check this out:


"I'll treat this like the Eddie Murphy and Tracey Edmonds affair...I won't hold you long."
--says Rev. Clinton Miller, Pastor of Brown Memorial Baptist Church to parishioners as a promise to be brief with his sermon.



Also Heard...
Upon a request for a few more dollars for the offering*, an Assemblywoman (local politico) rudely shouts from the audience, "Play some 'giving' music!"

Not skipping a beat, Dr. Johnny Ray Youngblood, Pastor Mentor of St. Paul's Community Baptist Church replies, "Do they pay 'giving' music when you pay your bills? No."

*the offering, in its entirety is being donated to the MLK Memorial in DC.


Currently Listening To: "I'm Looking For A Miracle By the Clark Sisters," "Ye Of Little Faith," by Yolanda Adams
Currently Reading: Speak So You Can Speak Again: The Life of Zora Neale Hurston by Lucy Hurston

KILLING DESIRE TO SAVE MY LIFE

"...Stop! The love you save may be your own...you're headed for a danger zone."
--Jackson 5

I killed my microwave. Not literally, of course. But using it was killing me...LITERALLY. And while I am no doctor (biology was the least of my favorite subjects in school), and I do not have all of the facts--YET, this is a move that so far, seems to be right and justified. From what a few of my friends have told me (one of whom is a strict vegan and "knows about these things,") microwaving food alters it to the point where the foods' natural ability to nourish and help our bodies fight infection or disease is seriously diminished and often eliminated. What is ultimately leftover is not something we would willingly touch let alone ingest. I'm going to stop here, because again--I do not have all of the facts, but I am working on it.

The past twelve days have been tough. I love my food piping hot. A microwave always guaranteed me that. I'm in unfamiliar territory; at almost 40, I really just cannot recall what life was like before we "nuked" food. While not using a microwave really tests my patience, at least I have an excuse to go and shop for some stoneware/oven safe dishes.


Currently Listening To: "Danger" and "Vagabound"by Amir Sulaiman, "Scar Tissue" by Shanelle Gabriel, "Jesus Children of America," by Stevie Wonder
Currently Reading: The Fortunate Son by Walter Mosley

SICK, TIRED AND ALL THAT JAZZ

Once again, we as a people are late; late, late and more late!
--Vaughn "Dap" Dunlap
School Daze

The revolution was televised. Some of us missed it because you were laaaaaaaatttttte! Proof of your tardiness was my recent experience at a popular spot in Atlanta last night which will remain nameless, because the name is the besides the point. The open mic spoken word poetry show started one hour and 40 minutes late. That is 100 minutes; 600 seconds of my valuable time.

No there wasn't anyone holding a gun to my head; I could have left--should have left. Maybe demanded my money back and actually gotten it. HOWEVER, I had been waiting almost a year to witness this weekly presentation of creative word stylings and knowledge being broken down. And my soul was, in fact, filled. But the message was tainted and I had to leave after only hearing five offerings; usually get to hear at least seven and I needed a lot more this time (been going through some stuff, y'all).

We have stop to got to stop this late bullshit. Your word is your bond. If we cannot be at the appointed place at the appointed time, ready and on point, how can we expect to be taken seriously in the fight for freedom and equality?

Currently Listening To: "Past Time Paradise" by Stevie Wonder
Currently Reading: Not a doggone thing!

RETURN

"It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you
Without a strong rhyme to step to
Think of how many weak shows you slept through
Time's up, I'm sorry I kept you..."
Eric B & Rakim

After a little vacation and a necessary yet painful, emotionally long reality check, the State of Zora is back. And since I love lists, here are the highlights of what happened over the past 11, 904 hours (or 496 days):

1. The Pur$uit of Happine$$: It became crystal freaking clear to me that for damn sure, money ain't everything and it matters even less if you value the all mighty dollar more than your self worth.

2. Got My Feelings Hurt Quite A Few Times: Oh yes, it's true that, "Love don't love you and love don't care." Shit, sometimes love straight up hates your guts.

3. (I) "Went There:" Knowing that your family needs you and that you, too, in fact, need your family ain't always enough. Sometimes, as Janie tells Phoebe in "Their Eyes Are Watching God," one has to "go there" to really know--and to believe.

More later, including a new blog site detailing the adventures of a former soldier with a new perspective on "what's really going on."

Currently Reading: "The Fortunate Son" by Walter Mosley
Currently Listening To: Optimistic by Sounds of Blackness