Chuck Brown: The Sound of a City

I picked up tickets tonight to see Prince's new protege, Andy Allo at the Howard Theater in Washington, DC on this coming Monday night. It's a release party for her sophomore album, and if I were a betting man I'd put money on Prince showing up at some point. This is going to be a double treat for me because Monday nights are official "Wind Me Up Chuck" nights at The Howard. The Chuck Brown Band performs there every Monday night. They will more than likely open and then play along with Andy Allo's band at some point. It will be bittersweet, because it will be the first time I've seen the band without the man himself.

The legend. The icon. The luminary. The guru. The Godfather.

(crowd) "Chuck Baby don't give a....."
(Chuck) "Yes I do! I love ALL of you!"

And indeed he did.

For decades, If you were in Washington, DC and overheard someone say, "I'm going to see Chuck" and replied "Chuck who?", everyone within earshot knew that 1) you weren't from DC or 2) you hadn't lived there for any significant amount of time. In DC, there is, was and always will be only one person unquestionably recognized by the single moniker "Chuck".

Chuck Brown passed of complications due to pneumonia in May of this year. For those of you not from Chocolate City or it's Vanilla suburbs (Maryland, Northern Virginia), it's hard to give you perspective on just how important Chuck Brown was/is to The DMV. If you grew up in this area within the last 40 years, Chuck Brown inadvertently had a hand in raising you; at the very least he was an important part in the soundtrack of your life on some level. I dare say that for all of the political power that resides here, all of the people who steer the course of the country and even the world, few if any have the love and respect that was eagerly and freely given to The Godfather.

The Godfather of Go Go, Chuck Brown has been the reigning, sovereign monarch of DC's Go Go music scene and to a lesser degree it's entire music culture footprint. The musical pulse of this city was literally his invention. In the late 60's/early 70's Chuck began to notice that he was losing gigs to DJ's who played one record after the next with no break or silence between songs. So Chuck began instructing, rehearsing and conducting his band to seamlessly segue from one song to the next, not stopping the groove and linking each song with a constant syncopated beat. This would allow the audience to continue dancing uninterrupted by breaks in the music just like a DJ, but with the added excitement of a live band and all the elements that come with it. Most notably for Go Go, some distinguishing characteristics are the call and response participation with the audience (rooted in the African tradition of historically Black church music), distinctive and prominent percussion (congas, timbales, roto-toms, etc) with strong Latin/African influences. and often a horn section. Go Go is also distinguished by the interactive participation of the audience and it's extended percussive breaks that take control of your body and set up the segue to the next song.

Chuck Brown began his musical career playing behind Jerry Butler, later playing with Los Latinos in the mid-60's. It wasn't long before he was heading his own band The Soul Searchers and became not only a staple of the DC music scene, but it's greatest musical ambassador and potentate. Inspiring and influencing other great local bands including but not limited to Rare Essence, Experience Unlimited, Trouble Funk, Reds & the Boys, Little Benny & the Masters, and Ayre Ray'd. Chuck's unique groove spawned countless other bands that added their own flavor to the spicy musical gumbo that ultimately came to be known as Go Go music.

Look at the crowd. What other 75 year old ever pulled and completely rocked an audience this youthful?

Never really a recorded commercial success much outside of it's DC base, Go Go has generated a few notable nationwide hits. The genre's breakthrough hit was Chuck Brown's own "Bustin' Loose" in '79 (though some could argue that it was Eddie Kendricks' "Keep On Truckin' " in '73. This song shows strong Go Go elements and groove. Kendricks' touring band at the time of it's recording was from DC and often played on the same bill as The Soul Searchers). A few years later Brown charted again with "We Need Some Money". Rapper Curtis Blow had a hit with "I'm Chillin", a song in which he rapped over Trouble Funk's soul invading groove, and Doug E Fresh set dance floors on fire with the Go Go flavored "I'm Gettin' Ready". Experience Unlimited scored twice; collaborating with Salt n Pepa on "Shake Your Thang" and of course "Da Butt" from the soundtrack to Spike Lee's movie "School Daze", which was actually written by Sanborn/Vandross collaborator and bassist extraordinaire Marcus Miller (Miller worked with Chuck most recently on the Grammy nominated Jill Scott duet "Love"). Also, there are several songs that sample Go Go songs (most notably Nellie's "Bustin' Loose" extrapolation "Hot in Here") including the drum break from one of Chuck's legendary early efforts, "We The People". Other than those examples, Go Go has remained mostly a regional attraction (The Carolina's, Philly and New York notwithstanding).

One reason for this is the almost impossible task of capturing the unique energy of a live Go Go concert. It simply does not translate well to the recorded medium probably because of the interactive component. Anyone who has been to a Go Go concert can tell you that experienced live you don't just hear Go Go, you participate in it. You FEEL it permeating your marrow; manifesting itself in the physical rhythmic movement of your flesh. It transforms even the most challenged of dancers into accomplished rug cutters as the infectious groove snatches their bodies.

For all of the great Go Go bands that this city has produced over the years, none were able to bring what Chuck did to the stage. He had an incredible voice - a baritone as beautiful as it was powerful and full of character. Deep and syrupy, I've always likened Chuck's singing inflection and vernacular to that of the coolest, most socially conscious pimp/preacher one could ever hear. He was musically versed and a student of many genre's. This revealed itself in many of his performances and recordings, most notably for me the ridiculously funky Go Go interpretations of "Moody's Mood" and "Merry Christmas Baby", the latter being a favorite of my mother's at Christmas time. At his core though, Chuck was a Blues man. His Southern roots (North Carolina) and time behind bars (for petty crimes as a youth) ensured that he sang it with authenticity, and strangled it out through his guitar with authority.

My one and only conversation with Chuck occured a few years ago when I ran into him at a Starbucks in Laural, MD. He was standing in line in front of me waiting to order. Chuck's notoriety and distinct style made it almost impossible for it to have been anyone else - the belt buckle, the hat, sunglasses and hair gave him away. As he ordered his vente' Caramel Machiatto, I interrupted saying, "Add The Godfather's drink to my bill." and placed my order. He graciously thanked me and asked my name. After receiving our drinks he invited me to sit down with him. He had a tremendous air of warmth that just rolled off of him as he spoke to me as if he had known me for years. We talked for nearly an hour about every subject that came to mind, but mostly music. One of the things that we talked about was the power of music to move people emotionally and spiritually. Chuck told me that there are some songs in his catalog that he no longer played because they conjured the wrong spirit in the audience. He told me that he could literally see the transformation from the stage - how some songs evoked a spirit of violence and others a spirit of sexuality - and how the audience acted out as a result. "It was undeniable man. It was right there in front of my face. If I didn't believe it before, I believe it now because I've watched people's whole personality change...entire crowds...but only when I played certain songs. I had to get rid of 'em man. I realized that my music was responsible for inciting this behavior in people."

I am grateful that I had the chance not only to meet Chuck but to sit down and converse with him. It truly was like sitting at the feet of a great, wise guru. I know that my experience was not one-of-a-kind. Chuck never carried himself like a celebrity and was completely accessible to any and all. He truly loved this city and ALL of his fans. Put simply, Chuck was one of us through and through. When I heard that he had cancelled concerts due to illness, I prepared myself for the worst because I knew that Chuck wouldn't cancel concerts if something wasn't seriously wrong. Still the news of his passing hit me hard. Like with my own father's passing, I couldn't imagine what it would be like without him around because he'd always been there making life enjoyable...and I know I'm not the only one who has those feelings.

For those who are students of music but unfamiliar with Chuck, do yourself a favor and pick up his albums "We The People", "Bustin' Loose", "Go Go Swing Live", "The Spirit of Christmas", "Your Game...Live at the 9:30 Club" and the unsung Jazz gem "The Other Side" a collaboration with another incomparable DC treasure, Eva Cassidy. For those who aren't students but simply lovers of music, pick up "The Best of Chuck Brown".

Finally, I leave you with one of my favorites from this great legend and icon. You play this on Christmas morning and I guarantee that Santa will come finger popping down the chimney.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DB2oCsvVWe8


God bless you Chuck Brown. Lord knows you certainly blessed us.

Here Come The Judge

I've been blessed and fortunate to meet and know several people of note in my lifetime. Many I met when I was a kid (through their associations with my father) and had no idea of the significance of the luminaries who I came across. Later as a young adult and fancying myself a musician, I would often meet and associate with famous (and infamous) musicians that I sometimes opened or played for. Still others I would just luck up on by being at the right place at the right time, which was the case with my most recent encounter when I needed a gallon of milk during my Facebook hiatus for Lent...

Not too long ago I went to the Giant Food store in my 'hood here in Northern Virginia with the intent of picking up a box of Honey Nut Cheerios, some 1% milk and a few other things. This is my main grocery spot and has been for the past few years so I instinctively know where everything is. I walking in the door, grabbed one of those hand held baskets and picked up some red seedless grapes as I made my way through the fruit on my way to the cereal isle. As I trekked through the ready made flower and balloon displays I could now see clearly from one end of the cereal isle to the other as I approached it's entry. I noticed a lone person reaching for a box of Corn Flakes only to be interrupted by an incoming text. He stopped reaching and put his basket on the floor in order to retrieve the text, then began to type his reply. As I walked past him it immediately struck me that he looked very familiar. He was an older gentlemen wearing a conservatively styled black suit with very subtle charcoal grey pinstriping. Not only was it not from The Men's Warehouse or K&G, but an accomplished tailor had obviously applied his skilled hands to this suit for it to have fit him so perfectly. Like his suit, his tie was conservative and expensive. His watch appeared to be expensive, but the style indicated that he'd probably had it since the early to mid '80's. By contrast, his shoes were clean but a bit worn and run down. They were definitely a Pay Less Shoes or WalMart sale item. They curled slightly on the outer heels; this indicated to me that he must walk with his feet pointed slightly outward.

Finding the Honey Nut Cheerios on my right side, I took the opportunity to look over my shoulder back at him once again. As he finished his text and put his phone back in his jacket pocket, I noticed that he was chewing a piece of gum with fervor and gusto; as if it was the best he'd ever had and the last he was ever going to get. I took another good look at his face as he retrieved the Corn Flakes and picked up his basket.

"Man, that guy looks just like...naw, couldn't possibly be." I said to myself as he walked out of the isle and I continued on to the milk section with Cheerios and grapes in tow.

When I got to the milk fridge I looked in and saw only two cartons of Horizon organic 1%, our family milk of choice. I decided to grab both. I figured that if the zombie apocalypse jumps off in the next week or so, The Russell's of Fairfax County will have strong bones with which to wield and confidently swing the machete's needed to lop off the heads of the undead hordes (Go here for more info on that - https://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=10150593555525655).

Anyway, as I put both in my hand held basket I hear a voice behind me say "Aw man, brother. You're gonna take both of those? Those are the last two. Let me get one."

Now I've got an attitude. I turn around (with the intention of telling this person to ask a Giant employee if they've got more in the back somewhere because these two are MINE) and who do I encounter but this same gentlemen from the cereal isle. He must have changed his mind about the Corn Flakes because I noticed he's got Cheerios in his basket now too, along with two big jugs of Arizona Iced tea - one lemon, one diet peach. My irritated demeanor melts and I smile, but hold my ground for a minute...

Me - (jokingly) "I've got little ones at home man. They need this to grow strong bones."
Him - (good naturedly) "Yes, but there's TWO. Come on, let me get one."
Me - "There are other organic brands in there. Get that Nature's Promise. It tastes just as good."
Him - "See now, you know just like I do that it doesn't!" 

Recognizing that the exchange as cordial and fun, I can't resist saying what's on my mind.

Me - (handing him a milk carton) "Say brother, has anyone ever told you that you look EXACTLY like Clarence Thomas?"
Him - "Well, I'd better!"
Me - (with the side eye) "You're Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas?"
Him - "Yes sir."

Now, I'm absolutely floored at this point. Although I'm certain that this is indeed Justice Thomas I still feel the need for further confirmation. I certainly can't ask him to pull out his I.D. and prove it, so I go with the first thing that crosses my mind.

Me - "You know Judge, I've got to tell you that the opinion piece you wrote in support of the Virginia anti cross burning law a few years ago was incredible. I don't agree with you on everything but I was in agreement with every point you made there."
Judge Thomas - "Well, the opposing argument was that cross burning was not intimidation, but a form of freedom of speech. The physical act of cross burning itself has no written or verbal component, and anyone with an ounce of common sense knows that cross burning always has been and always will be nothing but an act of intimidation. That whole thing was ridiculous. You actually read that eh? That must have been 10 years ago son. I'm surprised you remember it. So are you from Virginia?"
Me - "Yes sir."
Judge Thomas - "OK then, if you're interested in such things you know that Virginia has a long history of....."

Judge Thomas dressed similarly to this when I encountered him.

Thus began a 30 minute conversation that covered everything from segregation, affirmative action and gentrification to job/career trends of the past 30 years, HBCU's, race/culture/class demographic shifts in the DMV, Trayvon Martin and everything else in between. He talked about his largely utopian upbringing in The South, his culturally diverse education and his surprisingly racist treatment in The North. He mentioned that regardless of whether he was in integrated classrooms or the only person of color to be found, he was always the top student. He said that during much of his college years he was basically a Marxist, hipster and an anarchist, but had a radical change in thinking after a few close calls in a couple of riots and reading a few very specific books. He figured there had to be a better way to affect positive change.
As I stood there listening intently, hearing the passion in which he spoke about the issues I got the impression that he was, in a sense, purging. It was if he felt the need to explain himself and his perspective to a regular cat on the street. As I stood there in my jeans, tennis shoes and a t-shirt depicting a bumbling Homer Simpson (having just finished some yard work) I couldn't have appeared any more "regular". It was if he was trying to tell me in a round about way that his positions on issues of Black interest were often misunderstood. How did I come to this conclusion? Almost every issue he freely mentioned without provocation (save for my initial comment) had distinct ties to African American interests. I was actually quite surprised that he spoke so personally and freely with some of the things that he told me. Although I doubt that he told me anything that couldn't be found is his autobiography (I haven't read it yet), his tone had a distinct "I need for you to understand where I'm coming from" ring to it.

As he spoke and occasionally asked me questions designed to allow him to expound further on a subject, I thought back to the infamous Emerge magazine cover of several years ago depicting him as a smiling lawn jockey with the headline "Uncle Thomas: Lawn Jockey to the Conservative Right" and thought again as I did back then that it was unneccesarily harsh. I've been at odds with many of Judge Thomas' Supreme Court positions. Although I understood and even agreed with many of his points on the issue, I couldn't agree with Thomas' vote to eliminate affirmative action, something that he has been a direct beneficiary of. Thomas voted to eliminate public school integration plans across the country. He voted to limit access to the courts for plaintiffs, to deny rights of appeal to defendants, and to protect the corporate status quo. He cast one of the deciding votes in the divided 5-4 Bush v. Gore decision that stopped the counting of ballots in the contested 2000 Florida presidential election.

The infamous Emerge magazine cover.

Now here I was face to face and in conversation with the man in a Giant Food Supermarket.

During the length of our conversation, I wondered if any of the people walking back and forth past us had any clue as to who was standing there pontificating on several societal issues past and present. Did no one else recognize that a Supreme Court Justice was casually conversing in the milk and juice section? I supposed that they too would have assumed that there would be bodyguards or Secret Service cats accompanying a Supreme Court Justice on a grocery run. Yet here he was, hand written list in hand and dutifully scratching off it's contents between texts.

As the conversation began run it's course and wind down, he said to me "You mentioned that you have kids. How old are they?" I replied that they were 6 and 3 years old. I could see that he was in thought for a second, then he said "Do you have a piece of paper?" as he reached in his breast pocket for a pen. I did not and replied in the negative. I didn't even have my cell phone having left it in the car. "Give me that Cheerios box" he said. As he began to write on it's top he said, "Your kids are a bit too young to understand now, but when they get a few years older you give me a call. I'll arrange a tour of my office and the Supreme Court." He wrote his name, his assistant's and his office number on the Honey Nut Cheerios box. I was completely floored by the offer, but at the same time the opportunist in me kicked in. "In that case may I arrange a tour for any age appropriate kids at my church who may be interested?" I asked. "You're damn straight you can" was his unexpected reply.

At that point we both headed for the self checkout and talked a bit more. He mentioned the Trayvon Martin situation and said that he was waiting to hear the whole story and dissect the facts before coming to any conclusions. "That's my job" he said. "Deal with the facts...only the facts, and act accordingly". As much as I wanted to I didn't ask him about the Anita Hill scandal or the health care hearings. The former because it would be crass, the latter because at the time he was in the middle of it and probably wouldn't be comfortable speaking on it.

As we both headed to our vehicles, he again asked me my name and said that it was a pleasure meeting and speaking with me. I affirmed the same. "Maybe I'll run into you here again" I said. "It's likely" he said. "I'm in here shopping 2/3 times a month. You make sure you call me about that tour, ok?" I affirmed that I would, said my goodbyes and watched him head for the parking lot. As a bonified auto aficionado, I HAD to know what a Supreme Court Justice worth tens of millions drives on the regular. I watched as he headed toward a gleaming white, brand new Range Rover...then opened the rear hatch to place his groceries in the decade old Saturn LW300 station wagon parked next to it. A lesson in how the rich stay rich.

The inconspicuous and plain Saturn LW300 wagon. A great grocery getter no doubt.

In my encounter with Clarence Thomas, he proved to be a erudite, likeable, regular guy with a whole lot of his Georgia country roots showing through in his mannerisms. The fact that he also sits in a seat of power that can change the course of the country was not lost on me. I came away from the encounter with even more of an understanding of the fact that we are all regular people. He no longer seemed this detached gargantuan political entity, but he reminded me of that neighbor who you amicably disagree with on a lot of things but always invite over to watch the game or when you're cooking out.

The Princess/Prince Charming Illusion

My mom tells me that as a small child I had no interest in traditional fairy tales. During the formative years that countless parents read their children tales from The Brothers Grimm, Walt Disney and others, I was perusing my big sisters Right On! magazines. I suppose that I had less attraction, if any at all to the exploits of Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White and the like. The reason was simple - in absolutely no way did I relate to the protagonists in these stories.

The time worn formula of "pretty girl protagonist/evil, ugly antagonist/valiant prince savior" just didn't spark my interest. Even the "handsome hero" aspect held no attraction to me.

     I was much more interested in the superhero exploits of Batman, Iron Man or The Black Panther. Sure, they were handsome and went around saving people too, but unlike the princes in the fairy tales they couldn't be called utopian pretty boys. They were intrinsically gritty and far too flawed as human beings. Take Batman and Iron Man for example - Both men are billionaire industrialists who inherited their wealth. Bruce Wayne's need to take vigilant revenge on the criminal element was born from the psychological trauma he suffered witnessing the violent demise of his parents. As a result, his Batman alter ego is a hypercathartic coping mechanism. His iron clad peer Tony Stark is a brilliant engineer who also happens to be a shallow, narcisistic, womanizing playboy. The very thing that makes him a superhero simultaneoulsy keeps him from certain death, thus he cannot live without being Iron Man. Imagine the twisted psychology behind both of those situations!

     So in spite of the fact that I'm not a billionaire playboy, superhero characters were more relatable for me; at least in terms of them being flawed. Not only that, most of them kept it moving on the relationship front. Unlike these fairy tale dandies, you rarely saw them marrying the first distressed damsel they happened to run across. They understood that the mental energy one expends thwarting the world domination plans of evil geniuses leaves very little that is conducive to maintaining a successful relationship. Every married guy reading this knows that if you see a dude wearing a mask and skin tight rubber clothes while running the streets at night in search of shady activity, he's either single or a Congressmen.

     I'm making light of what I actually feel is a serious subject. We may not give much thought to it, but how do our cherished childhood fairytales effect our future expectations of relationships? As my precocious 5 year old daughter is fully immersed in the princess phase and the electra complex that it seems to assist in ushering in, this is yet another one of those things that parenthood has made me begin to contemplate.

     Of course, all of her favorite fairy tales involve this princess formula. Cinderella, The Princess & the Frog, Beauty & the Beast, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, The Little Mermaid, etc. The list is seemingly endless. Although the storylines vary somewhat, the overwhelming image of the princess is one of pulchridtude, virtue and an allure that captivates entire kingdoms. They are well mannered, elegant and stunningly beautiful. Who wouldn't aspire to such? Almost all young girls fantasize about being a princess and initially why shouldn't we encourage them? The concern is where we draw the line between fantasy and reality when it comes to the expectations and standards one absorbs from these fairytales.

     This princess/hero theme is recurrent throughout our development albiet in different forms. When we graduate from fairytales, we encouter it yet again in cartoons and comic books. Just what the heck would Sweet Polly Purebread do to protect herself if Underdog couldn't find a telephone booth?  Lois Lane was always getting into something Superman had to get her out of, and Lord knows Popeye took some world cl(ass) whuppings from Bluto every Saturday morning saving Olive Oyl's helpless behind. Thank God for spinach! As we get older the theme rears it's head in slightly different manifestations. J-Lo is rescued from a life of servitude by a handsome Senator in Maid in Manhattan, while Richard Gere is literally a handsome, rich "Captain Save-A-Hoe" to Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.  I realize that these scenarios are born out of  traditional concept sex gender stereotypes, but at what point does it become just a tad bit insulting to the women? The aforementioned all represent variations on the proverbial "damsel in distress" tale that all have the same conclusion - the need for a man to swoop in and save them from their situation.

     To a certain degree it astonishes me that this theme is constantly revisited in modern times. On a certain level it makes the condescending assumption that these women are neither smart nor resourceful enough to change thier circumstances. This simultaneously de-values the woman's intelligence and strokes the male ego's almost biological desire to be needed. The regretable fact is that the patriarchal male as protector role is often lost on the many women of the 21st Century who have found themselves in the position of fending for themselves. So why are so many women doing it for themselves these days and how does the Princess/Prince Charming Illusion contribute to it?

     For one thing, societal shifts within the past 40 years have contributed to the redefining of gender roles. It was once the norm and even expected for a woman to get married and bare children at a fairly young age, say by 25-30. That is no longer the case. Although one still runs the risk of being labeled an "old maid", by today's looser standards that moniker is more often hung upon women who are childless at 40. Marriage is largely an afterthought and increasingly perceived as an antiquated concept. According to the Pew Research Center, nearly 41% of all American births to women ages 15-44 were out-of-wedlock in 2010. Although there are several factors contributing to this, one of them is that marriage is largely considered an option by many.

     On the other side of the coin, how does P/PC Illusion distort the thinking of boys? Almost as if by osmosis we seperate the "pretty" girl from the "smart" girl. We are repeatedly told that the princesses we read about are "the most beautiful in all the land" yet they always seem to need a prince to handle things for them. Evidently they can't be both pretty and resourceful. Almost subconsciously, we begin to equate a woman who is both attractive and intelligent with undesirability. In discussing the plight of the professional single woman, I once heard my wife say, "If you are both (attractive and intelligent) you’re universally hated by both men and women; women because they’re jealous of you, and men because they don’t know what to do with you.” She said that a woman “who is living up to her potential is often cast aside or becomes a social outcast.”

     Another contributing factor has been the misinterpretation of the Feminist Movement. So much energy has been spent by some in an effort to be percieved as an "independent woman" in recent years that the result has been the stifling of a truly sincere man's desire take the reigns in a relationship. In other words, it's not that you can't handle certain things, it's that you shouldn't have to. The Princess/Prince Charming Illusion does us a disservice in this arena by creating an unrealistic expectation of the archetype of the "knight in shining armor" as the ideal man. In their search for a mate, so many woman have been conditioned to accept absolute perfection or nothing that they end up with the latter while holding out for the former. The fairytale prince is at least 6 feet tall, Brad Pitt handsome, Bill Gates rich, built like Ochocinco and smoother than Denzel with Barry White's voice - quite literally Mr. Perfect. With the possible exception of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson (who is definitely screwing it up for the rest of us), the vast majority of us real world men find it difficult to meet these predetermined fantasy criteria and implausable standards. The best we can hope for is to take on a Sean Connery-esque sex appeal as we age and call it a day.

     So as one grows and matures they find that Mr. Perfect doesn't exist and Prince Charming turned out to be a self-absorbed, arrogant metrosexual. When the guy you were dating turns out to be a frog instead a  Prince, what do you do? Give the stuff he hastily left at your place to Goodwill, cut him out of the pictures you want to keep, then lie around the house eating ice cream and listening to Sade? No. Develop realisic expectations of what you need in a life partner. Wants are good too, but should be secondary to your needs. Many women begin to believe that their prince will never come based on fairytale expectations.

     What should we do to give our daughters realistic expectations of what to look for in a mate? How do we instill those things in our sons? Firstly, we should do all we can to instill a healthy self esteem in our daughters. From a very early age we should take every opportunity to emphasize how special, unique and wonderfully made they are not only as women but as individuals. When girls have a positive sense of self they tend to make better decisions choosing potential mates. They understand their wants, needs and how to prioritize what is important to them. Secondly, we need to cultivate their gifts and talents. When we know the quality and quantity of our God given abilities we attract like-minded souls who are complimentary to us as a whole. Thirdly, we must teach our daughters that although Mr. Perfect doesn't exist, "Mr. Perfect-for-You" may be the cute guy you always see at Whole Foods, or the Cintas guy* who delivers bathroom products and clean mats to your jayoh-bee every week. Sure,  the captain of the football team is more exciting, but the captain of the debate team is probably a better long term relationship bet. Trust me, if that running back doesn't have concrete alternative plans when his knee blows out neither of you will be living happlily ever after.

     See past the exterior - what's in the heart of the person? This is not lowering your expectations, but the realistic management of them. Finally, I would say to the men that for the sake of both our sons and daughters, we as men should personify the Knight in Shining Armor. Do not let popular culture define what a man should be for them. As I write this one of the most popular (and I use the term very loosely) "musical performers" is Lil Wayne. What more do I need to say? Our daughters vision of Prince Charming should come directly from what they see from us. How you treat the women in your life will become the blueprint for what they accept in a relationship. Our actions should define manhood for our sons as well. Make a point of being chivalrous in front of and with them. Openly show (appropriate) affection to your spouse, peacefully resolve conflict, etc. Let's teach our kids of both genders that Prince Charming does exist by exemplifying the concept in realistic terms.

Prince Charming of the new millenium.

 *Trust...if they're on their grind those Cintas cats are plenty comfortable. We're talking German sedan, private school and gated community comfortable - or two of the three in many parts of the country. 

Why I Won't Be Enjoying a Big Kahuna Burger Anytime Soon....

     Well, it's that time again. What are your plans for the Lenten Season? Just how seriously do we take it and are we really aware of its significance? Lent is a season of soul-searching and repentance. It is a season for reflection and taking stock. It is an opportunity to exercise discipline outside of our normal restraint in obedience to God.

     In recent years I've taken Lent much more seriously. I'm still in the process of balancing just how I should observe it. In the past I did what most people do, I'd choose something that was pretty much an insignificant luxury for me and sanctimoniously declared that I was abstaining from it. It was usually something superficial like ice cream or television, as if it was a great sacrifice to go without Hagan Daz or CSI. In the past couple of years I've gone the other extreme. I did a full on fast of nothing but water Monday thru Saturday, eating only on Sunday for 40 days. This was beneficial in the weight loss department and it showed extreme discipline, but I was too busy thinking about  next meal to focus properly on meditating and communing with God. Regardless, God blessed me in spite of me. Others observe Lent by giving of their time and talents. One may volunteer at a soup kitchen or homeless shelter during the Lenten period to "imitate Christ" and show obedience. Jesus fed the hungry and clothed the poor, right? So what is it really that we should be doing during Lent?

     A forty-day period before Easter, Lent traditionally begins on Ash Wednesday. The forty days represent the time that Jesus spent in the desert before the beginning of his public ministry, where he endured temptation by satan. Jesus retreated into the wilderness, where he fasted for forty days, and was tempted by the devil (Matthew 4:1-2, Mark 1:12-13, Luke 4:1-2). He overcame all three of satan's temptations by citing scripture to him. Well 'ol louis sipher can't handle that so he rolled out.

     Lent originated in the very earliest days of the Church as a preparatory time for Easter, when the faithful rededicated themselves and when converts were instructed in the faith and prepared for baptism. By observing the forty days of Lent, the individual Christian imitates Jesus’ withdrawal into the wilderness for forty days. The number forty has many Biblical references: Moses spent forty days on Mount Sinaii with God; Elijah spent forty days and nights walking to Mount Horeb; the forty days and nights God sent rain in the great flood of Noah; the Hebrew people wandered in the desert for forty years while traveling to the Promised Land; the forty days Jonah in his prophecy of judgemet gave the city of Nineveh in which to repent.

     The observance of Lent has become much more lax over the centuries. From the 5th to 9th cent. strict fasting was observed; only one meal was allowed per day, and meat and fish (and sometimes eggs and dairy) were forbidden. Now we pretty much choose something we could live without anyway. As a matter of fact, many people splurge on the very thing they plan to give up just before Lent. You may have just finished observing "Fat Tuesday" or "Mardi Gras". In many countries, the last day before Lent has become a last fling before the solemnity of Lent. Rio de Janerio hosts one of the biggest festivals associated with Lent. Because it was customary to fast by abstaining from meat during this period , some people call the festival Carnival, which is Latin for farewell to meat. 

     A fast is a personal act of devotion to God and as I have come to learn, it is disciplined diet, not total abstention from food. Orthodox Christians recognize five levels of fasting:

• Abstaining from meat
• Abstaining from meat, eggs, milk, butter, and cheese
• Abstaining from meat, eggs, milk, butter, cheese, and fish
• Abstaining from meat, eggs, milk, butter, cheese, fish, oil, and wine
• Abstaining from all foods and beverages except bread, water, juices, honey, and nuts.

To fast, just omit an item or two from your diet—something that you would normally eat during the course of the day. Every time you get an appetite for those items, you will be reminded of your fast and that will remind you of the reason for your fast, and you can pray instead of eating. This can have immense spiritual benefit. Which brings us to the real reason for Lent. A disciplined and focused practice of prayer. Lent helps you reboot your prayer life. It's easy to over think the concept of prayer but it's actually pretty simple. You don't have to construct some superfluous verbal tome that would rival MLK's "I Have A Dream", but you do want to accomplish a few things. You should...

• Address who your talking to.
• Indicate submission to His will
• Be thankful for His blessings
• Ask for forgiveness
• State your needs
• Ask for assistance 
• ask for protection

The conversation might sound something like this...

" Y'know God (address), good lookin' out with that promotion I got on the job last week. I can't thank you enough for that. I really appreciate everything that you did to make that happen for me (be thankful). I know that it doesn't seem like it because I keep messin' up and should know better. You think you could you cut me a break (ask for forgiveness)? Y'know...will you forgive me? Oh yeah, like earlier today when I was thinking those thoughts about Karen in Accounting. She was wearing that skirt I like and,..well anyway, that wasn't right. I know I have a hard time resisting temptation sometimes. Would you help me out with this (ask for assistance)? Anyway now that I've got the promotion, I've got to put in a few more hours creating algorithms. I'm not sure how to go about finding the time (state your needs). Would you help me so I can be effective in my new gig? What do you think is the best way for me to do that? Regardless, whatever you decide is cool with me (submit to His will). Finally I'd just like to ask that you keep me away from trouble (ask for protection) and help me recognize it! I really do appreciate (be thankful) you God...." 

Just think of it as a regular conversation with anyone else, just remember who you're talking to. There should be at least the same level of intimacy to this conversation as there would be with a good friend or spouse. You can tell your best friend/spouse anything with complete confidence and expect of sincere dialogue and advice.

If we choose to give up something for Lent, it should be something that makes us a little uncomfortable to do without. It should require some restraint and control on our part. It should be a bit of a challenge. It should be significant enough that it reminds us of the purpose of Lent. So based on the above I've decided to give up all meats for Lent this year, and yes that includes poultry. You know some people will try to get around the whole meat thing by stating that turkey and chicken aren't technically "meat". I think that this will be most effective for me because a) I won't be starving myself, b) I'm an unapologetic carnivore, and c) it's not a perfunctory gesture like giving up chocolate or fast food.

If all of this is to lofty for you right out of the gate, start out small and work your way up to more significant challenges. Jesus gave it all up for us on The Cross. You can give up Starbucks for forty days.  

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An Emotionally Rewarding Encounter with My Unconscious Past

I had a really cool experience the other day (4.18.10). On my drive back from Charlotte, I decided to stop just outside of Richmond to look for the house we lived in when I was born. We lived there until I was about 2 years old so my memories of the house were vague at best. I figured that I'd seen enough pictures from that era that I could identify it if things hadn't changed radically. I knew what street it was on and how to get there, so I detoured from the highway with hopes of getting a modern picture to chronicle for the kids.

I drove down the Hungary Road focusing on the homes to my right looking for something familiar to jog my memory. None of the houses looked distinctively familiar, but I got a certain "feel" from a couple of them situated next to each other. There was a white house with a carport on the right side of the front door and a bay window and flower bed to the left. Next door was a brick house (slightly larger) with the same bay window/flower bed set up as the other, but this one had another room to the right and the carport behind it. Also, there were 3 steps leading up to the front door. I thought to myself, "One of these is it, but which one?". At that point I called my mother. My sister Shelley answered the phone. I asked Shelley to ask mom what our address had been on Hungary Rd. "Oh Lord, I don't remember. It had a carport and steps leading up to the front door." After some further discussion, we came to the conclusion that the brick house was it. Mom said that the house we lived in was brick and had 3 steps, so we assumed that the carport had been turned into another room at some point. I then told her the address and she confirmed that that was the house. I bid Mom and Shelley adieu and grabbed my camera.

Now, I'm not in the habit of randomly photographing peoples homes. I wouldn't want to see some stranger standing in front of my house snapping photographs anymore than you would, and I'm quite sure that my reaction to such a thing would be less than cordial. Considering that many folks will protect their property by violent means and ask questions later, I decided to go to the door, explain my mission and ask permission. I thought for a second about quickly snapping some pics from the relatively incognito position of my drivers seat, or doing a quick jump out and then speed off, but in the words of Ice Cube, "Shotgun shells are bad for your health", so I decided not to chance it.

As I approached the front door, I took note of what great shape the home was in. I knew that it was at least as old as me and it was obvious that it had been meticulously maintained. Camera in hand, I rang the doorbell. A handsome, fatherly looking gentleman with furrowed brow answered the door. He had slightly weathered, ruddy but well lotioned honey almond skin. A salt & peppered balding head crowning a fit frame suggested that he had some age but was still quite active. His bushy mustache curled down just enough to accent a staged frown. One eyebrow cocked, he had the patented "Who are you/what do you want/don't start no **** or you'll regret it" look that all husbands/fathers conjure when confronting a broad shouldered stranger at their front door (in this case, that would be me). Undeterred, with the storm door separating us, I began to talk through it's glass...

Me: "Good afternoon sir. You don't know me and I realize that this is a little unorthodox, but my name is W.P. Russell Jr. and..."Him: (eyes widening, grinning, interrupting) "You used to live here! You're Flip!"Me: (stunned) " Why...yes!"Him: (shaking my hand vigorously) "Boy, I can see the resemblance to your father, Rev. Russell! I bought this house from him in '69 and he sure was a tough negotiator! Come on in!"

That began a trip down memory lane that was a heart warming revelation. The vaguest of memories came back as I viewed the front room and the opening to the kitchen. The wood paneling on the staircase wall leading to a downstairs room even looked familiar! Could it be the original I wondered?

He introduced himself as Mr. Stevenson. His recall for events impressed me. He went on to tell me that he was a married 23 years old when he went looking for his first house. He said that he had seen the house on the market for awhile, but didn't think he could afford it. He knew that at the time my father was was the pastor of The Westwood Baptist Church in Richmond and up for a new position at Virginia Union University. He said that he also new that he had received an offer to be the asst. to the VP of the American Can Company in New York, making it necessary to sell the house a little more quickly. "Thinking I had some wiggle room now, that's when I made my offer but your father and I couldn't see eye to eye on price." he said. "Rev. Russell wanted a certain amount of money down, and I just didn't have it." He said that over the course of negotiations he learned that my mother didn't want to move in the first place. "She was all settled and acclimated to the house and didn't want to go anywhere. I remember the last words she said to me exactly. 'Mr. Stevenson' she said, 'the New York snow will not settle on me, sir.' "



Mr. Stevenson told me that the house still bore mark of the youngest Russell to live there. "You know what? There are still crayon marks in the upstairs attic that YOU put there son! Since we use it as storage space we never saw a need to erase them. They're purple." He went on to ask about my mother and sisters. I updated him and he told me to tell them that he said hello. I told him about Andrea, Ariel and Philip. He introduced me to his wife, who was in her house clothes and none to please that he had let me in, but cordial. He said that he would show me around but that his wife would kill him if he did so in it's current state, though from where I stood everything with pristine and glove check clean. He invited me to come back another time and he would give me a tour. "Bring your family with you the next time so I can meet them" he said. During conversation I learned that one of his sons lives about 15 miles from me and that his sister lives one street down from my high school in Upper Marlboro, 2 miles from my mother. Isn't it amazing how in many cases we orbit around each other for years, not knowing that we have common links? 6 degrees of separation has validity to it folks.

Feeling a sense of the surreal, I prepared myself to continue on home. I took a few pictures of the house and just stood there for a moment drinking in this monument of my very early nurturing. The first house I'd even known! Just thinking about what a blessing it was to have encountered the people who bought the house after all these years, and to hear the story from the source was overwhelming and humbling.

I thanked The Stevenson's for their openness and the invitation for the future. As I began to leave, Mr. Stevenson shared one last story...

"The last time I saw your father was at an Alumni function at Virginia State University. I had graduated in '66 and was very active as an alumnus. He was the newly elected president at the time and was being introduced to some of the alumni by another college official. Since it had only been a couple of years I thought about the last words I'd heard your mother say, and she was right. There you all were, back in Virginia. My back was to them when they came over to me, so your father couldn't see my face and I didn't know they were behind me. I heard someone say 'President Russell, I want to introduce you to someone...' and I felt a hand on my shoulder. When I turned around, your father looked me dead in the face, smirked, turned around and said to the official, 'This negro robbed me!'. We all had a good laugh as he told the story....smiling."