As I sat in the amphitheater listening to Joe Williams’ baritone voice, I longed to talk to my dad. I find myself walking to another section in the amphitheater and sitting on my dad’s lap. Laying my head on his shoulder, I tell him how much I miss him. He responds be telling me how great Joe Williams’ voice is and how I just missed his performance with Joe Sample. The rest of the conversation is a blur but it was more about some great musicians.
This happened last night. It was all a dream. My father’s been deceased 17 years.
I went to bed last night feeling some kind of way about my current life situation and I longed to talk to my dad. It’s been 17 years but I still miss him. The older I get, the more I miss him.
I could engage my dad in hours-long conversations just about anything but talking about music made the man glow. GLOW! I remember being 9 or 10 years old standing in the driveway of our home to view the lunar eclipse when he opened the trunk of his car to retrieve a pair of binoculars when I saw an album with a white man on the cover. I asked, rather incredulously, why he had that album. “Baby, that’s Peter Frampton!” He goes on to tell me how awesome the LP was (Framptom Comes Alive). I can’t recall the details of the conversation only how my dad’s face glowed when he talked about it. He was in his sweet spot.
My dad had a vast music collection. An impressive collection of vinyl of which he was very protective and forbade my sister and I from playing without his “assistance”. That assistance was him taking the album from the sleeve and putting it on the turntable himself. He didn’t want his vinyl scratched son!! I did eventually earn his trust and was allowed to use the stereo and handle his collection without his supervision.
Through my dad, I learned to love music, all music, as much as he did although I’ve never amassed a music collection as he did. But I do remember the very first album I purchased though. Al Jarreau’s “Breakin’ Away”. Daddy was so proud that his 13 year old daughter’s first purchase was mister scat himself and not, say, New Edition or Stacey Lattisaw.
As I sit here listening to George Benson and remembering last night’s dream, I’m thinking of my dad. Still missing him but feeling a little closer through the music.
There I go, there I go, there I go, there I go
Pretty baby you are the soul that snaps my control
Such a funny thing but every time I’m near you, I never can behave
You give me a smile and I’m wrapped up in your magic
Music all around me. Crazy music.
Music that keeps calling me so very close to you.
Hey!!! I remember you little chocolate girl with the long fingers, spindly legs and knobby knees. It seems like your appendages were outgrowing the rest of you by leaps and bounds!
You begged your mother for piano lessons although she tried, unsuccessfully, to get you to take dance lessons. You were too shy for that though. A shy bookworm who didn’t need to be entertained and loved being alone.
So naive. You thought the neighborhood boy, Bryon W., asked you to be his girlfriend when what he really asked for was some “booty“. Remember how insulted you felt? You went home and told your mom with that “how dare he” indignation in your voice. You were only 8 years old and he was too mannish for his own good!
You were a perfect mix of girly girl and tomboy. Sunday mornings would find you decked out in your frilly dress, ankle socks with the lace trimming, and patent leather Mary Janes headed to church with “Mudda”. But later that day you were playing touch football in the middle of the street with Edwin, Edward, Kevin, and Emmanuel.
You could run, throw, and catch the ball with the best of them…up until that very last pass. It came spiraling through the air and positioning yourself perfectly, you caught the ball…your newly developing boobies absorbing the impact. O.U.C.H!!!! Dropping the ball, you declared, “I QUIT!” and ran home leaving the boys standing there in the middle of the street dumbfounded. However, there were still lizards to dissect, tadpoles to catch, and trying, unsuccessfully, to coach a turtle out of it’s shell. Little league softball at the neighborhood park was short lived though…you couldn’t bat the ball worth a dime!
To call you a Daddy’s girl was an understatement. You would take off running for home after hearing his signature whistle signaling it was time to come inside from playing, as if the street lights weren’t warning enough.
Let me tell you a few things sugah…don’t ever lose your passion for reading and when you discover writing – keep doing that too. That attraction you have for the odd ball eccentric loner kids in class…keep that too because you will find that they are the most interesting people. Oh yeah, and that affinity you have to empathize and relate to those emotionally fragile souls…you’ll keep that too.
Eventually you will grow to hate your holiday birthday but enjoy it now with your friends eating cake and ice cream because soon they will prefer the company of boys/men on Valentine’s Day. But don worry, you will experience some awesome friendships along the way with some equally awesome girls/women.
That feeling of “not quite belonging” and that persistent pull that “there’s something else out there” will prompt you to move out of state, traveling to different destinations culminating with a burning desire to live abroad.
And guess what? You will do that too!!
We will do it! I’ll take you with me.
You’re always with me…that little chocl8t girl with the long fingers, spindly legs and knobby knees.
Aiight….so….yeah…I got some things and someone(s) on my mind. I’m trying to **ahem** work some things out cause a woman got needs. I want to go out and shake my assets, have a few Apple martinis and get worked over. heh heh heh
Be sure to check out the last video with my man Chris Brown. Maaan if I ever get my hands on that young man…WHEW! He’d better pray Jesus is a restraining order…or a can of Red Bull!!
Don’t judge me…just roll with it. 😉
With that in mind…enjoy your weekend!!!! 😀
This week’s theme is Neo-Soul but I also must give a shout out to the King of Pop, Michael Jackson. He turns the BIG 5.0 today. HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the weird guy! Regardless of his legal troubles, money woes, and just plain weirdness, the guy was/is a musical genius.
The first video is Michael Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal” followed by Anthony Hamilton’s “Coming From Where I From“.
Be sure to visit other O.S.F. participants!
|Marcus LANGFORD||Lisa C||Kreative Talk|
|Mrs Grapevine||There Already|