Black History Month: Billy Vera

Ahhh, 1985... a year in the 80's. Family Ties was one of my favorite shows...."What would I do baby, without your love..Shalalalaaaaa" Well, sing, y'all! It can't be a sing-a-long, if I'm doing all the vocal acrobatics!

When Alex P. Keaton, played by Michael J. Fox, finally declared his love for Ellen, Fox's real-life wife, Tracey Pollen, a beautiful, pensive love song swelled in the background. The brotha singing that song made anyone watching want to fall head first into a big old tub of LOVE!

The song was "At This Moment" and  it became the soundtrack for young republicans and democrats falling in love. It was played on both Black radio stations, both country stations, and Y-102, the pop station with the best stereo sound  in Montgomery, Alabama.

Today we salute Black History Pioneer,  Billy Vera, writer and singer of a song that brought Blacks and whites together with one goal: let's fall in love!  Damn, I thought that dude was black. Nope. He is white. He's a credit to his race.  Vera's voice is  "Sexual White Chocolate."



You must read this in your Barry White, Right On, Right On Voice:   (Source: Wikipedia)

Vera was born in Riverside, California. He began his singing career in 1962 as a member of the Resolutions. He went on to write severalsongs throughout the early 1960s, writing for the likes of Barbara Lewis, Fats Domino, The Shirelles and Ricky Nelson. He also wrote the garage band classic, "Don't Look Back", performed by the Remains.


 In 1985, a producer from the TV show Family Ties was in the audience to hear the band play "At This Moment." The song was featured in the fall of 1985 as a backdrop for romantic interludes between characters Alex (Michael J. Fox) and Ellen (Tracy Pollan). Viewers responded by clamoring for the song, and in 1986, Rhino Records released By Request: The Best of Billy Vera & the Beaters, which featured the song. The single became a number one hit in its re-release,^[2] and remained on the charts for 15 weeks.

We salute you Billy Vera, Drum Major for Justice,  for making us fall in love..

By the way, in 1985 I was bad in love with a short, white republican, too.** He broke my heart. He broke up with me outside of the lunchroom at Sidney Lanier High School. I played this cassette over and over on my Walkman until it snapped from the searing white heat of my pain. *sniff*  I had to bootleg me a copy off of Y-102, WHHY-FM's countdown with dj Phil "The Fish" Horton. You kids today have it easy! You can bootleg with one click of a mouse, but we had to work hard to steal  download music. We had to hold a tape recorder up to the radio and try not to breathe while we were bootlegging ---while walking backwards uphill in the snow!  Y'all are too damned spoiled ! 


** I am now married to a very tall white republican, but I won't let him near a high school lunchroom. Y'all know what President Lincoln said about history repeating itself. 


By the way to the second power, watch this all the way until the end. The dude sounds like Snoop Dog  giving a keynote at a Glaucoma Retreat.

Black History Month: Gino Vannelli

Yesterday, Don Cornelious died, and millions of people all over the world are left to wonder, "Is the soul of soul music dead?" Short answer: YES. Have you turned to an "Urban" station lately? Marvin Gaye must be rolling in his grave. ( Eye roll, tooth suck, cobra neck...)

 Many of us spent our Saturdays watching American Bandstand and Soul Train. Don Cornelious's booming baritone voice, fly style, and love of soul music made everyone who watched Soul Train want to be Black...for an hour. Rest in Peace...and SOOUUULLLL, Don.

On February 2, 1975, an Italian man from Canada became the first white solo artist to perform on Soul Train. His name was Gino Vannelli. He had a righteous curly mullet fro, and a voice that made Black people all over the world say, "Damn, I thought old dude was BLACK!" His power ballad, " I Just Wanna Stop," didn't come out until 1978, and it is probably the song that most of you will remember.

Gino was not the first white person to have his music played on Soul Train, that distinction belongs to Dennis Coffey, a guitar legend and member of the legendary Motown studio band, The Funk Brothers. You know Dennis's  work from The Supremes, "Someday We'll Be Together," Frieda Payne's "Band of Gold," and Edwin Starr's "War." Dennis Coffey's song "Scorpio" was played on Soul Train, but GinoVannelli was the Jackie Robinson of Blue-Eyed Soul, breaking the color barrier on a show that was the major television outlet for Black artists. If you put it all in context, Gino was more like the Suzzette Charles, the second Black Miss America, but because Vanessa Williams was stripped of her title, Ms. Charles, the runner-up, who graciously stepped in to wear the bling,  is referred to as the FIRST.

Whatever. Gino was the first white dude on Soul Train.

Read this in your most SOULFUL Don Cornelious Voice:  (Source: Wikipedia)

Born in Montreal, Quebec, Vannelli is one of three sons (Joe, Gino, and Ross)^[1] born to Russ and Delia Vannelli. Russ, his father, was a big band musician. As a child, Gino's greatest passion was music, and he began playing percussion at an early age. By the age of 15, Gino began writing songs. Just out of high school, he signed his first recording contract with RCA under the pseudonym Vann Elli, but went on to study music at McGill University.


We salute you Black History Pioneer, Gino Vannelli!

Bonus Jonas, Y'all..here's 33 seconds of Dennis Coffey's "Scorpio."  Why only 33 seconds? Because we only got 28  29 days, chirren!

Black History Month: I thought that dude was Black!

I could do 28 29 days of Black History, but I think PBS is gonna take care of  that for me. So I have decided to dedicate the next 29 days to highlighting the best white America (and any other place white people are from) has to offer in soul singers.  I believe the lack of great soul music is why our country is so off kilter right now.
Y'all, this mess that is on the radio passing itself off as R&B is just awful. I miss good old fashion music!!!!
O.M.G. I am officially old.


I present to you...

PIONEER OF BLACK HISTORY: BLUE-EYED SOUL SINGER BOBBY CALDWELL

(You MUST read this in your Morgan Freeman Voice ) Source: Wikipedia

Bobby Caldwell (born August 15, 1951) is an American singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist who, despite a prolific musical output over his 30-year career, is still best known for his 1978 hit single "What You Won't Do for Love".^[1] While he has always maintained a devoted fan base in the United States, a legendary status has been bestowed upon him in Japan. For R&B and modern jazz fans in the United States, he retains the title of: "The white guy most often mistaken for an African American vocalist."

Doing my slow motion , "Hey, hey!"

We salute you Bobby Caldwell for your contribution to Black America: "Damn, I thought he was BLACK!"

President Obama Salutes African American Women

The White House

Office of the Press Secretary

For Immediate Release

January 31, 2012

Presidential Proclamation -- National African American History Month, 2012

NATIONAL AFRICAN AMERICAN HISTORY MONTH, 2012

- - - - - - -

BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

A PROCLAMATION

     The story of African Americans is a story of resilience and perseverance.  It traces a people who refused to accept the circumstances under which they arrived on these shores, and it chronicles the generations who fought for an America that truly reflects the ideals enshrined in our founding documents.  It is the narrative of slaves who shepherded others along the path to freedom and preachers who organized against the rules of Jim Crow, of young people who sat-in at lunch counters and ordinary men and women who took extraordinary risks to change our Nation for the better.  During National African American History Month, we celebrate the rich legacy of African Americans and honor the remarkable contributions they have made to perfecting our Union.

     This year's theme, "Black Women in American Culture and History," invites us to pay special tribute to the role African American women have played in shaping the character of our Nation -- often in the face of both racial and gender discrimination.  As courageous visionaries who led the fight to end slavery and tenacious activists who fought to expand basic civil rights to all Americans, African American women have long served as champions of social and political change.  And from the literary giants who gave voice to their communities to the artists whose harmonies and brush strokes captured hardships and aspirations, African American women have forever enriched our cultural heritage.  Today, we stand on the shoulders of countless African American women who shattered glass ceilings and advanced our common goals.  In recognition of their legacy, let us honor their heroic and historic acts for years to come. 

     The achievements of African American women are not limited to those recorded and retold in our history books.  Their impact is felt in communities where they are quiet heroes who care for their families, in boardrooms where they are leaders of industry, in laboratories where they are discovering new technologies, and in classrooms where they are preparing the next generation for the world they will inherit.  As we celebrate the successes of African American women, we recall that progress did not come easily, and that our work to widen the circle of opportunity for all Americans is not complete.  With eyes cast toward new horizons, we must press on in pursuit of a high-quality education for every child, a job for every American who wants one, and a fair chance at prosperity for every individual and family across our Nation.

     During National African American History Month, we pay tribute to the contributions of past generations and reaffirm our commitment to keeping the American dream alive for the next generation.  In honor of those women and men who paved the way for us, and with great expectations for those to follow, let us continue the righteous cause of making America what it should be -- a Nation that is more just and more equal for all its people.

     NOW, THEREFORE, I, BARACK OBAMA, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim February 2012 as National African American History Month.  I call upon public officials, educators, librarians, and all the people of the United States to observe this month with appropriate programs, ceremonies, and activities.

     IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this thirty-first day of January, in the year of our Lord two thousand twelve, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and thirty-sixth.

100th Day of School

Today is the 100th day of school for the McBrothas.  Daniel and I made a cake for his class last night to celebrate. He helped me mix the cake, frost the cake, and he counted out one hundred M&Ms to decorate the cake. He was so proud of himself. He said, "Mommy, I'm 100 days smarter than the first day!" 100 days is quite an accomplishment.

 When I was five months pregnant with this little fella, they told me I had miscarried. But, after an ultrasound, there he was. I'm not sure why he was spared, but I am grateful to have him in my life. Maybe he'll cure cancer or the dreaded "diabeebees" that makes his brother have to have shots. Maybe he'll invent something. He already has a brain that builds, tinkers, and reboots. Maybe he'll grow up to be an outstanding friend, father, and spouse. More than anything, I want him to have a happy childhood.

The past 100 days of school haven't been easy, but they have taught me a great lesson in making every single day count.

 I think if we broke down huge tasks into one hundred day chunks, we could accomplish a lot. Where do you want to be in 100 days? Do you want to be 100 days smarter? Do you want to be 100 days happier?
Well, today is the first day...

eTange : The Work Around Queen

I have been writing like a maniac. But nothing I'm writing fits on this blog. I'm publishing my own work on Kindle, and my plan is to launch my own digital publishing company in April.

New York publishers are not interested in people like me. So once again, I have to find a way around my problems. New York publishing houses say that stories about African-American women in the south can only be written by white women. You know, like The Help (no, I'm not a fan. I make no apologies, and I don't want any from you for liking it)... I have been told that no black woman could have ever written a book like that "with so much sensitivity" by someone at a fancy literary agency.... My response was "REDACTED. REDACTED. And another thing, REDACTED."

I know enough about publishing to be successful at publishing the stories I want to read. I worked all those years at River City ( did everything from writing contracts to selling paperback rights to selling movie options to making copies) and I've dabbled in PR at some level since leaving (all those articles about my comedy, that wasn't my agent---I am my agent---I did that all by myself).

Digital publishing has made the opportunity to publish more EQUAL. I'm looking forward to being a part of this brave new world! I feel no shame about not being published by New York. I feel no shame about being self-published. I am looking forward to selling my work and other writers...MAKING MONEY doing something I really love. I love writing, but I also love publishing.

It has taken all these years of "research" to see that I was supposed to be doing this all along. It all fits together. EVERYTHING: teaching, publishing, cleaning, even my failed small business, stand-up comedy and being a mama has taught me all I need to know.

I have never been afraid to work hard for what I want. Cleaning was probably the best prep for the business end of publishing. If I didn't clean, we didn't have power or gas or food.

I have never lost my love of books. I never lost my dream to be a "real" writer. I've never given up on me. I'm just done trying to play a game where the deck is stacked against me. It's taken a whole lot of death and a whole lot of broke-ass to slap me out of the bad dream and the waiting and waiting and waiting. Seriously, fancy ass New York publishing world, if you were a man; I would have dumped you for less a whole lot sooner.

I am looking forward to helping myself and soon, others who want an opportunity to tell their stories.

P.S. If you want to secretly submit a story or novel or essay collection ekhoffeditorial (AT) gmail (DOT)com.
Looking to help folks who are WOEFULLY under-represented by New York....
Looking for happy books, humor books, poems,  love stories, southern stories, chick lit, black chick lit...make it fun, folks!

Good, Clean Fun

Daniel spent the week asking us (repeatedly, like, 5 million times) for a family outing. "Can we do something as a family?" he begged, all week long.

If you are a parent of limited means, you know dollars spent on entertainment always means fewer dollars for bills.  We are always guilt-ridden about saying no so much, because we know that The McBrothas need to do more than: write on the wall with my eyeliner, get into a fistful of hair fight, or get naked and have a smush your boy parts against the window contest. As a former teacher, I know that kids learn by doing. Experiences teach children how to be productive members of a community. We wonder if our children have been deprived because of our lack of money.

Today we decided to take The McBrothas to the newly remodeled McDonald's. Our Owasso McDonald's is amazing: rock climbing wall, second story slide and a bank of video crack for the gamer babies. The boys were angels. DaddyFixIt and I spent most of the time in complete awe that the boys did not fight, bite, or cry. They both put on their shoes when we told them it was time to go...without a meltdown.

Then, in an absolute stroke of genius, DaddyFixIt decided to take Foxy Boxy II (our totally sexy, tricked out, low-riding, pigeon-poop splattered, 1996 Volvo wagon) to the car wash. I agreed to keep Adam in the car in case I needed to restrain him or hug him or cry because I couldn't console him.  In addition to being Type 1 diabetic, Adam has ADHD in HD and has Sensory Processing Disorder, fancy, Doctorese for "that young 'un will lose his mind in new, crowded, or Wal-Mart-like situations." With Adam, errthang is a situation. Taking the McBrothas out in public is always sketchy because of Adam's issues. Daniel is our BIG HELPER and he agreed to help Daddy wash the car. Dando is sensitive and emotional, but when you give him a job to do; he is locked and loaded!

As Adam and I sat inside Foxy Boxy, Daddy started up the sprayer, and Adam, Mr. Most Likely to Freak Out, laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. The car wash was like The Three Stooges, The Hangover, and Richard Pryor all rolled into one. Adam had actual tears of bliss rolling down his face as he laughed when Daniel knocked on the window and sprayed the car with soap. I could hear Daniel laughing from inside the car. Daniel was laughing and jumping up and down; his cinnamon curls seem to record every giggle. It was beautiful.

After it was over, after Daddy helped Daniel click his seat belt in his big-boy booster seat, after we pulled out of the car wash and headed up Main Street towards home,  Adam said, " I had fun at the car wash, Mama."

Daniel chimed in, " I had fun helping Daddy, and Adam was laughing at me spraying him with the soap gun."

I turned around and caught a glimpse of the boys looking at each other. They were both beaming. Then Adam erupted into a cotton candy fluff of laughter, and Daniel joined him.

My husband gently patted my hand. He knew I had welled up. He didn't even look at me. Had he looked, he would have sprung loose like a cracked levee. We've been through a lot of bad as a family. We are finally going through good as a family. Good makes you far more reverent as a parent after you've been sopped down in bad. We spent two dollars on a car wash that will be a million dollar memory to the McBrothas.

As The McMama, I always worry about how much my boys lack, but on this cold, blustery, winter day in Oklahoma, our boys gained an abundant experience that will last them a lifetime. As parents, we earned the priceless experience of seeing our children happy. It was an embarrassment of riches. Today, we were millionaires. Our children got a trust fund loaded with good, clean fun.