Saturday, June 28, 2014

Bobby Womack - Music That Left Its Impact

Robert Dwayne "Bobby" Womack 
March 4, 1944 – June 27, 2014

When my daughter came into my bedroom last night and told me that Bobby Womack died, my first reaction was, "You know who Bobby Womack is?"  You would expect my first reaction to be, "Oh, No!," but for some random reason, he crossed my mind just the day before yesterday and I went to my "Bobby Womack" station on Pandora.

I plugged in the "Bobby Womack" station when I heard about his Alzheimer's diagnosis a couple of years ago.  I was working at my desk, and all of a sudden, I thought, "I wonder how Bobby Womack is doing.  I haven't heard anything in a while."

The song that came on when I clicked on the channel on Pandora was, "Harry Hippie," and while listening I thought, "this wasn't my favorite Womack song, but boy it's a good one."  My favorite, if you can't guess, is "If You Think You're Lonely Now."  How many times have all of us played that particular tune?  If not on the stereo, 8 track or CD, we've certainly sung it in our heads.

And despite whatever hurdles he may have faced and overcome in life, one thing that remained indisputable was his incredible talent, recognizable voice and "grown man demeanor."

He's singing with the angels now.

Rest In Peace, Mr. Womack.  We're still playing your tunes.

Friday, June 20, 2014

Habits In The 'Hood

I see a change on the horizon in my neighborhood.

The other day, as I was leaving to run errands, I saw two Black women walking down the street in what I initially thought was Muslim attire.  As they got closer to my house, I saw they had rosary beads in their hands and were praying as they walked.

Excitedly, I asked, "Are you nuns???"  They responded in the affirmative and introduced themselves as Sister Fatima and another Sister whose name I forgot in my enthusiasm.  I told them that I, too, was a Black Catholic.  Then I went on to ask them what parish they were with and where they lived.

They explained that they had purchased a home just a few blocks away.  Then they asked if they might come back another time, perhaps on the weekend, to visit.  Naturally, I said, "Of course."  I mean, that's the first time I'd ever seen nuns in my neighborhood.  They had accents, which I couldn't discern but it was clear they were not American-born.

It made me smile to realize that hope is not lost.  Even on us who continue to wait and believe that a "change is gonna come."

Lord knows we can use all the nuns we can get.  We have enough drugs, guns, violence and chaos to keep an entire order of sisterhood busy.

Praise the Lord, we are gentrified!