DWIGHT FRYER: A LEGEND IN THE MAKING . . . PART I

On first glance, Dwight Fryer reminds you of the smart, but mischievous kid who sat behind you in class. You know, the one with the big grin and the twinkle in the eyes, who, as soon as you weren't looking, reached over and tugged on your ponytail or else playfully thumped you upside the head? But when you turned to confront him, he shrugged and issued you one of those, "What? Who me?" looks.

Make no mistake though, Fryer is man who is all about business, especially when it comes to the art and craft of writing. His first book, The Legend of Quito Road, recently earned him an NAACP Image Award nomination in the category of "Outstanding Literary Works From A Debut Author."

Dwight and I are both writers with strong ties to the South and specifically, Memphis, Tennessee, where Dwight and his family still currently reside. We first met there in 2005 after being introduced, via the internet, by a mutual friend and fellow scribe (big shout-out to Sharon J.). But while I was born in the Big M Town and consider myself a product of it's grittier, more urban terrain, Dwight actually hails from Grand Junction, a small rural town in west Tennessee.

In my opinion, Dwight's unique ability to tap into his southern, Black rural roots are what give his work that special "umpf" quality and helps distinguish him from the "same ole same" of today's Urban Lit crowd. In the short time that I've known Dwight, I've come to admire his drive, his tenacity, his dedication to craft and his willingness to share what he's learned with others.

If you're interested in learning more about Dwight Fryer, author of The Legend of Quito Road and 2007 NAACP Image Award nominee, I invite you to start with the following Q & A.

Q: Your book, The Legend of Quito Road, what's it about? A: The book is a story about a 13-year-old country boy named Son Erby whose religious daddy showed him how to make moonshine. It's a southern tale set in the 1930's, at the height of the depression and near the end of prohibition. The main theme of the book is that "the worst things wrong with most of us were planted by those who loved us best."

Q: Is there really a Quito Road? If so, where is it? A: Yes, it's in south Tipton County, about 30 minutes northwest of Memphis. When I started writing this book, I was living up near that area.

Q: How long did it take you to write The Legend of Quito Road? A: I wrote the first words to this book on a Sunday afternoon in late July in 1998. I was at a writing class in a Barnes & Noble in Wichita Kansas. It took me 4 and 1/2 years. I finished it at Christmas in 2002; it was my Christmas gift to myself.

Q: Wow, 4 years is a long time! Did you ever consider giving up? A: I considered giving up a whole lot of times. Number one thing, writing a novel and pushing through just to complete it is an enormous task. I laugh a lot of times because I'm glad I didn't know how much work it was when I started it, because I'm afraid I wouldn't have . . .

Also, I had so many unique things happen to me after I started writing this book. I began writing the book in July of 1998. In August, I accepted a call to the Ministry. In September, I lost my job and two days later found out I had colon cancer and needed radical surgery and chemotherapy.

So, through all of that and even 2 years later when my youngest child died suddenly of meningitis, I kept writing this novel.

Q: Your perserverance in the face of so much is both humbling and truly amazing. Even now, I know you wear a lot of different hats--author, minister, motivational speaker and manger for a global transportation company. Being that you're also a husband and father, I assume, you have some semblance of a life away from work (smile). How do you find time to write? A: I'm an old guy and I don't need much sleep. So, I'm in bed most nights by 9:00-9:30 and I'm up the next morning by 4:30. I write for a couple of hours before I get ready for work. On Saturday mornings, I get up about 6:00 am and I write. So, if it's important to you, you'll fit it in. And you don't need that much time if you know how to structure yourself . . . All you have have to do is think, 'what am I going to write today?' and look at that part of your outline and write it.

Q: Since you brought up being "an old guy" (your words, not mine *smile*)what's your take on being an older writer? A: Your life experiences, to me, kind of begin to come together between 35 and 50. For me, life is really coming together as I approach 50. When I first started thinking about this book, 16 years ago, I was in my early 30's. This would have been a very different book from a much angrier young man had I written it then.

STAY TUNED FOR PART II OF THE OSM'S Q & A WITH DWIGHT FRYER

WHEN I GROW UP, I'M NEVER GONNA . . .

I'm sure, at some point, as kids, most of us narrowed our eyes at something our parents did and mumbled to ourselves, "When I grow up, I'm never gonna ________ (fill in the blank). I know I did.

During a recent exchange of emails, a friend mentioned that while growing up, his family always drank powdered milk. He promised himself, when he grew up, he'd NEVER drink it again. Lo and behold, he says now that's all he buys (LOL).

How does that happen? How do we end up doing the exact same thing or things we once vowed NEVER to do? I'm not really sure. I do know for me, the blank in the statement, "When I grow up, I'm never gonna________" would be listen to jazz.

I can remember just as clearly the day, I vowed never to get caught listening to the maddening sounds my Dad seemed to love so well. We were living in Idaho at the time. I was probably somewhere between the 3rd and 4th grade. It was a Saturday morning and as usual, my Dad had the stereo on full blast. The song, the one he'd been playing over and over again and for several Saturdays straight, was one entitled,"Compared To What," and performed by Les McCann and Eddie Harris.

I'm not sure if I hated the song or was just tired of hearing it every doggone Saturday. I do know that I found some of the lyrics particularly disturbing, including the following--

"Slaughter houses are killin hogs

Twisted children are killin' frogs

Poor dumb rednecks rolling logs

Tired old lady, kissin' dogs . . ."

from the song

"Compared to What"

by Les McCann and Eddie Harris

The folks killing the hogs and killing the frogs were bad enough, but the old lady kissing the dogs . . . I'm sorry, but for the life of me, I just couldn't understand why anybody in their right mind would want to listen to a song about some old lady who enjoyed kissing dogs. I remember telling myself, you know, when I grow up, I'm never gonna listen to any mess like this. I don't like jazz is what I told myself, not just that song, none of it--Coltrane, Miles, Parker, Dizzy, Lady Day . . .

Of course, years later, after I got grown and lived on my own, what became my radio station preference? Any station that played jazz, quite naturally. And on those rare occasions when I would hear "Compared To What" I'd actually stop, listen, smile and if possible turn that mess up (LOL). I'm not sure at what point it all changed, but now, I really do love the song and consider it one of my favorites.

A love for jazz is one of the more positive things I picked up from my parents. One of the more negatives, I hate to admit, was smoking. I grew up thinking smoking was one right nasty habit and vowed to never indulge. But for a brief period of time during college, finding me with a cigarette dangling from my lips wasn't all that unusual.

So, how would you fill in the blank? What do you do now that you once said, when you grew up, you'd never do?

BOOKS . . . SO, WHAT ARE YOU READING?

I seldom read one book at a time. I'd like to think it's because I'm easily bored, as opposed to attributing it to some sort of obsessive-compulsive or attention deficient disorder . . .

Believe it or not, I'm currently reading (or thumbing through) a total of 9 books. The titles on my list include:

1) MORAL DISORDER (Margaret Atwood) Category: Fiction, Short story collection; Why: I'm a fan of both short story collections and Ms. Atwood's work; Source: Purchased at Park Road Books in Charlotte, NC; Notes: I almost put this one down in disgust after reading the first two stories. But I'm glad I kept reading. I'm a couple of stories short of finishing the collection.

2) WHAT I KNOW FOR SURE (Tavis Smiley) Category: Non-fiction, Autobiography; Why: My interest was piquied after stumbling upon a C-SPAN interview of him talking about his life; Source: Purchased at Urban Knowledge Bookstore in Memphis, TN; Notes: Most folks seem to either really love Smiley or really hate him. I've always been somewhere in the middle. After the C-SPAN interview, I had a greater respect for him and a desire to learn more;

3) PUBLICIZE YOUR BOOK (Jacqueline Deval) Category: Non-fiction, Reference; Why: I'm in the process of forming my own strategy for AFTER THE DANCE; Source: Purchased at Barnes & Noble in Charlotte, NC; Notes: Great source of information for the new author. I highly reccommend;

4) A HAND TO GUIDE ME (Denzel Washington) Category: Non-fiction, Essays; Why: I almost bypassed this one. On first glance, I thought it was just another celebrity biography. Thank goodness it's not. As the subtitle indicates, it's a book about those who inspired various leaders and entertainment personalities; Source: Purchased at Borders, Charlotte, NC; Notes: Proceeds from the book go toward the Boys & Girls Clubs of America.

5) THE LEGEND OF QUITO ROAD (Dwight Fryer) Category: Fiction, Novel; Why:

Dwight is a friend and a fellow Memphian. I've been planning to read his book for some time now; Source: Purchased at Barnes & Noble in Charlotte, NC; notes: I try to limit the number of fiction titles I'm reading at one time. So, I'll really get into this book after I've finished Atwood's Moral Disorder;

6) BLACK, WHITE AND JEWISH (Rebecca Walker)

Category: Non-fiction, Autobiography; Why: It's something I've been planning to read for years. When I noticed it on the bookstore's discount table, I didn't have a reason to put it off any longer. Source: Purchased at Barnes & Noble in Richmond, Ohio; Notes: I'm finding Ms. Walker's perspective as the bi-racial, only child of author Alice Walker even more interesting than I thought it would be.

7) TURN UP THE HEAT (G. Garvin) Category: Non-fiction, Cookbook; Why: I'm always looking for new recipe ideas and I'm a big fan . . . okay, groupie of G. and his show on TVOne; Source: Christmas gift from the hubby; Notes: As G. likes to say, "It's all about cooking the healthy Soul way, baby!"

8) HOME: THE BLUEPRINT OF OUR LIVES (Sen. John Edwards)Category: Non-fiction, photos & essays; Why: I saw a Life Magazine write-up about the book; Source: Christmas gift from the hubby; Notes: It's a nice coffee-table book.

9) LETTERS TO A YOUNG ARTIST (Anna Deavere Smith) Category: Non-fiction; Why: I bought this last year for a friend's graduating granddaughter and ended up buying one for myself; Source: purchased at Borders in Beachwood, Ohio; Notes: It's a neat book for a "young" artist. It also has me wondering if Ms. Smith has ever considered doing something similar for us "old" artists.

How does one read 9 books at one time? In bits and pieces. I literally keep books all over the house--living room, kitchen, study, next to the tub and next to the bed. Also, not being terribly interested in television helps. I'm sure there's someone who does this, besides me, right? (smile) In any case, feel free to share your own reading habits and/or list.

JENNIFER BYNUM . . . THE OSM'S SUNDAY BEST . . .

Does the name JENNIFER BYNUM sound familiar? For those of you who answered, "No," my response is, well, it should . . . particularly if you watched Hustle & Flow, the movie released in 2005 about the Memphis pimp who aspires to be a rapper. JENNIFER BYNUM appeared in one of the film's most pivotal and memorable scenes. She sang CHANGED MUH NAME (also known as "Change Muh Name") the spiritual that moved Terrence Howard's character, "DJay" to tears and set him out on the journey to change his life.

In a 2005 interview on the Oprah show, I heard Howard say that even after having viewed the movie a number of times, the church scene still makes him cry. To quote him, "The one scene where I didn't act was inside the church listening to the song. I asked Jesus if He'll change my name . . . To even think about it makes me well-up because it's such an honest place."

Indeed, JENNIFER'S music can have that kind of an effect and believe me, I should know. Before I moved from Memphis, I belonged to the same church, Parkway Gardens Presbyterian (now known as Parkway Gardens United Presbyterian Church) where JENNIFER, a classically trained soprano and accomplished pianist graced us with her talents most every Sunday.

While in Memphis over the Christmas holidays, I saw JENNIFER at church and told her how much I missed hearing her music on a regular basis. Upon my return to Charlotte, JENNIFER was kind enough to send me a sampling of her work, including CHANGED MUH NAME and PSALM 90, a song written by JENNIFER and (similar to T. Howard) one that typcially moves me to tears whenever I hear it performed live.

I do think it's both a sin and a shame (if not incredibly telling) that JENNIFER'S musical role in Hustle & Flow didn't thrust her into the same type of national spotlight that Three 6 Mafia's did. I know who I personally would have rather seen at the Oscars, the Grammy's or anywhere else representing the Best of Memphis . . .

Interestingly enough, the Negro Spiritual (CHANGED MUH NAME) which JENNIFER rearranged and at Terrence Howard's request, performed live during the movie's filming, doesn't even appear on the Hustle & Flow Soundtrack. But I suppose it might have been a tad out of place situated amongst songs with titles like Whoop That Trick, It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp, Murder Game, Booty Language . . . and worse.

In any case, if you'd like to learn more about the remarkable JENNIFER BYNUM and/or listen to her music, I'd encourage you to start here Jennifer Bynum or here.

If and when you do, don't forget to be on your Old School Mix EVERDAY BEST and show MS. BYNUM some love (smile).

PART II . . . THE OSM NOD TO JB . . . STILL NODDING . . .

A few days ago, while waiting in the grocery store checkout line, I picked up the JET magazine with James Brown on the cover. When the cashier saw me with it, she said something along the lines of, "Ain't it a shame, all that mess that's going on with James Brown and his funeral? How come they just can't bury the man and be done with it?"

I said, "Yeah, I think they've had like, what, 3 different funerals now?"

She said, "Uh-huh, 3 funerals in 3 different places with 3 different outfits!"

When I got home, the thought occured to me--Umph, I be dog if these folks ain't got poor James Brown still out here on tour . . .

Of course, just the other day I heard they still hadn't buried the man. They've got him locked up in his home, in a temperature-controlled room. Come on now, I know I'm not the only one who smells a rat . . . Watch, six months from now J.B.'s gonna be coming out with some material, uh-huh, just like Tupac did.

All kidding aside, the following is a list of some of my favorite James Brown Songs. But check this out . . . I only own 1 JB tune and that's a 45 (remember those) that was given to me by my folks. And the song, Make It Funky, isn't even one of my favorites. Go figure.

1) Payback (1974) 2) Say It Loud (1968) 3) I Got The Feeling (1968) 4) Cold Sweat (1967) 5) Santa Claus, Go Straight To the Ghetto (1968) 6) Papa Don't Take No Mess (1974) 7) Hot Pants (1971) 8) Get Up / Sex Machine (1970) 9) It's Man's World (1966) 10) Get On the Good Foot (1972) 11) Super Bad (1970) 12) Papa's Got A Brand New Bag (1965) 13) Talking Loud and Saying Nothing (1972) 14) Licking Stick (1968)

Do you have a JB favorite that doesn't appear on the list or any other comments about the Godfather of Soul that you'd like to share?

AN OSM NOD TO THE GODFATHER OF SOUL . . . JAMES BROWN (1933-2006)

Yes, I did talk bad about James Brown's hair (see #8 on the OSM TOP TEN LIST OF BROTHERS WHO NEED TO LET THE PERM GO). But as far as his contribution to R&B is concerned, I'm willing to give JB his props. The hollering, sweating, process-wearing, camel-walking brother with the South Carolina and Georgia roots was indeed Super Bad (1970) if not a cape-donning trailblazer when it came to soul music, stage presence and showmanship.

Even though I can remember watching my parents and their friends doing the bump and the double bump to James Brown's Payback (1974), I tend to associate JB with the folks of my grandparent's generation. One of the reasons his garbled (and often ridiculed) manner of speaking never really fazed me was because to my ears, he sounded like a lot of my Mississippi-bred grandparents and their contemporaries.

In all honesty, whenever I hear a James Brown beat, a murky image of my Grandmother, standing behind the bar in Binghamton's Tillman Grill is the first thing to come to mind.

Z. M. Hawkins & friend (boss?)

in Tillman Grill

from Lori's Pic Collection

(date unknown)

Tillman Grill, a dark cafe, located (once upon a time) in the heart of North East Memphis's Binghamton community is where my mama's mama worked for a number of years as a cook. The cafe had a jukebox and even though I can't be sure, the mental ties is so strong, I want to say the first time I ever heard any James Brown was on that jukebox. When I close my eyes and concentrate on that cafe jukebox, inevitably, the two JB songs I hear are Cold Sweat (1967) and Say It Loud--I'm Black and I'm Proud (1968). I never asked, but I'm willing to bet my Grandmother's own favortie JB tune was something along the lines of a Please, Please, Please (1956) or Try Me (1959). Those songs have more of a Blues feel to them and to be sure, my Granny (Zenna Mae Hawkins) loved herself some Blues (smile).

Yes, whenever I hear James Brown, I can't help but think about my Granny, a dark Memphis cafe and a doggone jukebox. No doubt that link will grow even stronger since oddly enough, both my Granny and the Godfather made their respective transitions (hers in 2002 and his in 2006) on Christmas Day.

I bet somewhere up there, beyond the pearly gates, JB is on stage screaming, sweating, spinning around and putting on one hell, oops . . . I mean, one heck of a show. My Granny is there too . . . somewhere in a dark corner . . . with a hand cocked to her hip, a grin on her face, her head bobbing real slow like to the JB beat . . . and waiting, all the while, for one of her regulars to call out for another round or place an order for a burger and plate of home fries. After all, who says there's only one way to rest in peace?

Z.M. Hawkins and customers

in a North Memphis cafe

sometime in the 1980's

from Lori's Pic collection

A FEW CHANGES . . . Yes, I've changed the layout. I'm still not sure if this is the one I will go with . . . So, don't be surprised if on your next visit, it's changed again (smile). Also, look for me to add some new links to the sidebar in the coming weeks. I plan to give some shoutouts to the sites and blogs I visit on a regular basis. If you have any comments about the layout (pro or con) or suggestions about changes you'd like to see, feel free to leave them in the comments section or email me at after.dance@hotmail.com

THE OSM WISH LIST FOR 2007 . . . A list of things I'd like to see happen in 2007 . . . but probably won't . . .

1) An end to war, terrorism and all other senseless violence in the U.S. and abroad;

2) An end to the unsightly trend of young men wearing their pants 3 sizes too large, showing their doggone drawers and calling it a fashion statement;

3) An end to young women (old a$$ one's too) exposing their midriffs, thongs, butt-cracks, back-fat, etc., etc., at school, work, church and the like and thinking that mess is cute;

4) An end to parents sending their daughters out on Halloween (or any other time) dressed like hookers, strippers, hoochies and/or the likes of Paris Hilton, Lil Kim or Britney Spears (okay, so I'm being a bit redundant . . .);

5) An end to the televised ignorance of Flava Flav, Jessica Simpson, 3-6-Mafia, The MTV Yo Mama folks, etc.;

6) A successful African American TV drama that doesn't feature Taye Diggs;

7) TV programs with Black actresses in serious roles who resemble the average Black woman;

8) Help for O.J, Mike Tyson, T.O., Michael Jackson, Bobbie Brown & Whitney;

9) A serious commitment to the education of our nation's youth;

10) A national discussion about poor folks and poverty that doesn't involve finger-pointing, name-calling, Bill Cosby, Eric Michael Dyson or any mention of boot-straps.

So, those are some of the items on my 2007 Wish List. Care to share any of yours?

MEMPHIS MONDAY . . . A FEW RECENT MEMORABLE MOMENTS . . .

Court Square,

Downtown Memphis,

April 1988

from Lori's Pic Collection

I went home over the Thanksgiving Holiday (2006). The following were some of my more memorable moments.

THE WORST: For some reason, the folks at Memphis International decided to keep our luggage. Oh, they claimed it had been held over in Charlotte for inspection. Yeah, right. I could almost swear I saw our luggage in the jet-way as we got off the plane. I'd purposely marked our luggage to make it more easily distinguishable from all of the other black bags. Anyway, it just so happened that the one piece that turned up missing had our son's prescription cough medicine in it--not to mention all of his clothes. This isn't the first time we've had our luggage lost ("jacked") at Memphis International. After returning our lost ("jacked") luggage on that particular occasion, a radio the hubby had been given as a Christmas gift turned up missing. Well, this time around, after the hubby had thoroughly cussed out everybody, we got our bags back all right . . . well after 8:00 that evening . . . which might not have been so bad had we not arrived at around 10:00 that morning.

THE FUNNIEST: After leaving the airport, we went to pick up a rental car. We thought we were all set to go to grandma's house when a Good Samaritan pointed out that the car we were about to drive off in had a FLAT. Sure enough, the rear wheel on the passenger's side was flat as all get out. After watching his irate Dad march back up to the car rental office, the young'n turned and looked at me. After heaving a sigh and shaking his head, he said, "You know . . . this is starting to feel like an episode of "GOOD TIMES." This kid is not even a teen and already he's got jokes. I guess we taught him well. LOL.

MOST SAVORY: Okay, when you think Thanksgiving and food, you generally think turkey, dressing, sweet potato pie and all of that. But whenever I go home to Memphis, I'm always thinking barbecue. Yeah, the Thanksgiving grub was cool. But the barbecued chicken, cole slaw, beasn and the buttered roll I had from CORKY'S was THE BOMB! If I thought I could have gotten away with it, I would have wrapped some up and taken it back on the plane with me . . .

MOMENT THAT MADE ME GO "HUH! WHAT THE . . . " While driving down Poplar Avenue, coming back from downtown and right next to OVERTON PARK, I saw a white guy . . . driving a station wagon . . . with SPINNERS. Hey, could be it was Craig Brewer of "Hustle and Flow" fame. Certainly sounds like some ig'nant a$$ mess he'd pull (LOL).

FAMILY-WISE: My Dad, a retired military man, shared several tales from his days in the service with us. The first had to do with his brief stint in a military singing group called the PIPERS. I'll have to see if I can make copies of those pictures and share them one day soon. His other stories dealt with the 3 seperate occasions he had a GUN pulled on him--one in GERMANY, once in the PHILIPPINES and once in VIET NAM. For the record, my dad served in the AIR FORCE and AF folks aren't typically put in position where they have to handle guns, much less get shot at. Also, interesting was how on two of those ocassions (in the Philippines and 'Nam) my Dad claimed that a "guardian angel" in the form of a priest materialized, seemingly from out of nowhere and diffused the situations. Hmm. I may have to share those stories one day as well. What surprised me though was when my father brought up the psychological affects of war. He talking about being burrowed down in a foxhole and/or behind a bunker somewhere . . . and listening to the dropping of bombs . . . bombs that are falling closer and closer ("walking" is what I think he called it) and having to come to terms with the fact that one of those bombs just might have your name on it . . .

MUSIC-WISE: The hubby and I were listening to the car radio while driving back to my parent's home late one night. We were cruising through North Memphis and had just crossed over that stretch where JACKSON AVENUE turns into AUSTIN PEAY when we lucked up on, of all things, a PRINCE-MINI-CONCERT! Oh dag! We turned that mess up and for several long minutes on end we were YOUNG, SLIM, UNJADED and FULL OF DREAMS again . . .

MOST ENTERTAINING: Me, two of my sister-in-laws and a couple of friends went to a play at THEATRE WORKS. For a mere $15.00 I got my money's worth and then some. The play, entitled, THE 24/7 CAFE was written by RUBY O'GRAY and sponsored by the BLUFF CITY TRI-ART THEATRE COMPANY. Talk about "Tyler Perry" funny! We had a ball laughing at the cafe's wacky customers and crew, especially THOMAS (played by JS TATE), RITA (played by DANIELLE CARRINGTON) and MRS. BEA (played by THEREN WOMACK). Collectively, they did an excellent job of serving up a slice of Black Memphis life from the 1960's.

BEST ALL-AROUND: The Saturday after Thanksgiving, the hubby and I took a drive downtown to the MEMPHIS RIVERFRONT and stopped for a stroll through TOM LEE PARK. The weather was perfect and it didn't cost us anything. A lot of other folks apparently had the same idea because families, couples (young & old), kids on bikes, tourists and the like were everywhere. A handful of dare-devils were out on the water, racing each other and zooming around on those little jet-ski boats. The hubby and i had a great time marveling at the big houses on the bluffs, the dark choppy waters of the Mississippi River and just how far our beloved city has come. Afterward, we drove through downtown, past MUD ISLAND, the PYRAMID, the PEABODY HOTEL and the crowds on BEALE STREET. We chuckled at the sight of the condos going up in the spot on SECOND STREET where we use to change buses on our daily treks to and from LEMOYNE-OWEN COLLEGE. And for the umpteenth time, we swore we'd stop one day and actually take one of the horse and carriage tour rides thorugh the Bluff City's downtown district.

Downtown Memphis, TN

1988

from Lori's Pic Collection

As the picture above indicates, this is something we've been promising ourselves since the late 80's. But hey . . . really. . . one day . . . we will.

SOUNDS OF THE SEASON . . . CHRISTMAS SONG FAVORITES . . .

If you stop by my house this time of the year, you're bound to hear some Christmas music. I break out my collection of holiday tunes right after Thanksgiving and don't stop playing them until--well-- sometime in the first month of the new year . . . generally.

The following is a short list of some of my (non-instrumental) favorites:

1) I Know That My Redeemer Liveth (sung by Tevin Campbell on Handel's Messiah: A Soulful Celebration) This is a beautiful song! It's also one of the few that even the hubby doesn't mind listening to over and over again.

2) What Child Is This (sung by Vanessa Williams) VW is beautiful and multi-talented. Don't you hate her? (smile)

3) What Do The Lonely Do At Christmas? (The Emotions)

4) Merry Christmas, Baby (Charles Brown) It's hard to resist a song that has lines like, "Merry Christmas, Baby, you've sho'll been good to me. Well, I haven't had a drink this morning , but I'm all lit up like a Christmas tree." Talk about some down home Blues! I can't help but think about Memphis whenever I hear this song.

5) This Christmas (sung by Donny Hathaway) Even though I don't like snow, for some reason, I always think about it when I hear this song.

6) Santa Claus, Goes Straight To the Ghetto (James Brown) Tell 'em 'bout it JB.

7) Santa Baby (Eartha Kitt)

8) Someday at Christmas (sung by the Jackson Five) The J5 Christmas album holds the honor of being the first holiday album I ever owned.

9) Another Lonely Christmas (Prince) The hubby can't stand this song. So, you know I have to play it LOUD and on REPEAT. LOL

10) Bobby O'Jay's Christmas Song (This is a Memphis radio classic, a song cut and released by WDIA's very own disc jockey Bobby O'Jay! It doesn't feel like Christmas until I hear this song.

So, what are your favorites? Or if you prefer, tell me about those Christmas songs that grate on your nerves.

HOME IS MEMPHIS . . . MEMPHIS IS HOME . . .

For those of you who don't know, that's the Mississippi River and the Hernando-Desoto Bridge you see off in the distance. Looks like a postcard, huh? It's not. It's a picture I snapped a couple of years ago from the roof-top deck of the Gayoso House (located in downtown Memphis, TN) where my old friend Stanford Lewis was living at the time.

Thus far, I've lived in eight different cities in the United States and one overseas (Wiesbadan Germany), but I doubt if I'll ever really consider any place outside of Memphis, Tennessee--home. I love the Bluff City . . . The Big M-Town . . . always have and always will . . . warts, flaws and all.

In 1991 I was invited to submit an essay to Memphis Magazine's 15th Anniversary Issue. Seven other Memphis-connected writers and I wrote about "the power of place." I was both tickled and honored to be included in the company of folks like Norm Brewer, Joan Turner Beifuss, Jerome Wright, Edwin Howard, Miriam DeCosta Willis (who went on to co-edit the ground-breaking EROTIQUE NOIRE), Levi Frazier and Margaret Skinner.

My essay was entitled "From Springdale to Walker." In the piece, I delved into how my experience riding the city bus to and from LeMoyne-Owen College forever shaped my view of both Memphis and my world. It comes as no surprise to me that much of what I wrote then still holds true today, fifteeen years later, including the following . . .

"I see Memphis as a kind of montage, a multitude of elements which coexist and which fall in and out of balance as we strive for more of some and less of others. It is the coexistence of poverty and prosperity, of splendor and squalor, of the lies of yesterday and the promises of tomorrow, of dreams fulfilled, dreams denied, and dreams yet to be realized, of Black and White and Blues all rolled into one. Yes, Memphis is a montage, painted in vivid, sweeping colors and strokes--a montage that I have come to recognize as home."

Quote Source ("From Springdale To Walker" by Lori D. Johnson; April 1991 Memphis Magazine).

'TIS THE SEASON . . . TO COUNT ONE'S BLESSINGS . . .

Ahh, the holiday season is upon us. I LOVE this time of year. Okay, the busyness, the weight gain, the mindless spending and shameless commercialization, I could easily live without. And the years I spent exiled in the cold Mid-West put a huge damper on my bliss, to say the least . . . But thankfully, this holiday season finds me back in the South and joyfully reconnecting with all those things and beings I know and love--among them, sweet potato pie, Blue Bell Ice Cream, day-time temps in the 60's and 70's, Memphis and visits with Mama and 'nem.

Besides Thanksgiving, Christmas (Chanukah/Hanukkah for those of you who celebrate) Kwanzaa and the coming of the New Year, this season marks as well the birthdays of my two December babies.

My life's journey wouldn't be the same without these two guys. The two sounds that bring me the most comfort and joy during this season, if not throughout the year, are the hubby's voice and our lil boy's laughter. Even when they've worked my last good nerve, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank the Lord for having blessed me with them.

So . . . what are you thankful for? After all, despite what the advertisers say about shopping and buying, above all else, 'tis truly the season to count one's blessings. Dontcha think?

THE HOLIDAY PAT-DOWN

The "pat-down" is one of my family's holiday traditions. It typically takes place just as my brother or I am about to leave my parents' home after having visited for more than a day or two. Before we can say our final goodbyes, my Dad will turn to my Mom and say, "Did you check her/his/their bags? Every time one of them leaves from here, some of my cds and albums turn up missing." We all laugh, but everybody knows my Dad is only halfway joking. He owns a huge collection of vintage jazz and r&b records and cds. And for some unknown reason, he thinks we STEAL his music.

Now, I can only speak for myself. The only cds I have from my Dad's collection are the ones he's given me. But when it comes to vinyl, I've gotta confess, yes, I do own more than a few of THE OLD MAN'S albums. (Yeah, I can hear him now, See, see I KNEW they had my stuff!) In my defense, I didn't really steal them. These were records I used to listen to on my old stereo componet set (the one with the turntable, the cassette player and the 8-track!) before I went off to college. I had them in my room and well, they just sorta, kinda got packed up with all of my other personal items when I left home. For years, my Dad never said anything about them, so I figured he didn't really miss them.

For the record, I NEVER took any of the old man's vintage jazz. I don't have any of his Miles, Coltrane or Bird. Okay . . . I did take an album entitled "Soul Makossa" by Afrique, but I don't really consider that vintage jazz. Anyway, the following is a "near-complete (smile) list of titles.

THE OSM LIST OF ALBUMS I BORROWED (STOLE) FROM MY FATHER . . .

1) THE MAGNIFCENT 7 (The Supremes & Four Tops) 1970 I'm not sure, but Dad might have given me this one. Back in elementary school, me and my friends, Lori P. and Leeda, used to play this album in my room and pretend we were the Supremes.

2) GREATEST HITS II (The Tempations) 1970 Remember the Temps song, "Ball of Confusion?" I can still remember me and my friend Lethea singing that song to the top of our lungs while swinging on her backyard swing set. "People moving out, people moving in, why because of the color of their skins. Run, run, run, but you sho'll can't hide . . ."

3) SKY'S THE LIMIT (The Temptations) 1971 My two favorite cuts from this one were, "Gonna Keep On Trying' Till I Win Your Love" and "Just My Imagination."

4) *WHAT'S GOING ON (Marvin Gaye) 1971 Who doesn't like this album? Let me just say, if I were ever stranded on an island and could only listen to 3 albums for the rest of my life, they would have to be the following three by Marvin.

5) *LET'S GET IT ON (Marvin Gaye) 1973 I bought this album as an anniversary gift for my folks, but ended up keeping it for myself.

6) *I WANT YOU (Marvin Gaye) 1976 The title of my novel, AFTER THE DANCE comes from a song by the same title on this particular album.

7) INNERVISIONS (Stevie Wonder) 1973 There isn't a single bad song on this album. My Dad used to play it to death, before I got ahold to it.

8) FULFILLINGNESS' FIRST FINALE (Stevie Wonder) 1974 I have no idea what the title means, but just like Innervisions, every song on here is worth listening to again and again.

9) SOUL MAKOSSA (Afrique) 1973 The only song I really ever listened to on this one was "Soul Makossa."

10) LET'S PUT IT ALL TOGETHER (The Stylistics) 1974 What ever happened to this group? Dude's falestto was something else.

11) DRAMA V (The Dramatics) 1975 As much as I liked this album, I must admit "cuteness" was also a factor. Ron Banks had some right dreamy eyes and Lenny Mayes had a nice 'fro and a pretty smile.

12) GRATITUDE (Earth, Wind & Fire) 1975 Yes, I did talk bad about Maurice and Verdine's hair. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate their music. I love me some EW&F!

13) PERSON TO PERSON (Average White Band) 1976 Did you know these guys were originally from Scotland? Whenever I'm in the mood for some vintage blue-eyed soul, I reach for this album (or my The Best of Teena Marie cd). My favorite cuts are "School Boy Crush" "Cut the Cake" "Person to Person" "If I Ever Lose This Heaven" "I'm The One" Oh hell, just about all of them (smile).

All right y'all, don't act like I'm the only one. I know some of y'all left home with some stuff that wasn't yours (whether records or something else). So, who wants to 'fess up first? Seriously, any comments about the list are welcome. Do you think this list says something in particular about me? ( I mean, besides the obvious)

STRAIGHT-TALKING TUESDAY . . . IN CASE YOU'RE WONDERING . . .

In case you're wondering or haven't yet figured it out, I don't have an English Lit or English Comp background. To be honest, when I was in school I found those kind of classes incredibly boring and I only took the minimum required. I might also note that even though my work has appeared in a number of literary journals, newspapers and magazines, I only lasted a couple of weeks in the one journalism course I opted for in college.

So, no, I don't always put the commas in the right places, I can't spell worth a gosh durn and I wouldn't know a split infinitive if one walked up and hit me upside the head. Of course, those of you with more discerning eyes already know this (smile).

But here's a little something you might not know--I also don't have that internalized sense of fear that seems to besiege quite a few of the more "grammatically savvy" when it comes to writing. I don't agonize over the technical aspects involved in the creative placement of words onto a page. That's not to say that I think grammar, punctuation, spelling and the like are unimportant. They are extremely important. My thing is, I simply refuse to have some disapproving nymph of my own making (much less someone else's) peering over my shoulder and whispering reprimands and/or inappropriate advice in my ear when I sit down in front of a blank sheet of paper or computer screen.

My approach to writing is largely intuitive. According to Mom, when I was a baby, she and others would routinely hand me a book turned upside down and watch me cry until someone turned the book right side up. Besides being amused, my folks couldn't help but marvel at how I seemed to sense that something about the book just wasn't right.

Perhaps this intuition, this gut approach, if you will, is something I inherited. I come from a family of storytellers (at least on my father's side) and folks who seem to derive an inordinate amount of pleasure from a well told lie. Similar to Langston (and so many others), my appreciation for what is generally referred to as the African American oral tradition was born at my paternal grandmother's knee.

Ethel Virginia Johnson, (yes, that's her in the picture, seated on the porch of the house my granddaddy built) also known as M'Deah and/or Ethel V. to those who knew and loved her, could spin a tale like nobody's business. Her stories, which could best be described as a bubbling mixture of humor and pathos, generally centered around the folks and family members who live in "Johnson Sub"-- the 40 some odd acres of land in South Memphis (TN) purchased by my great-great grandfather, Prince Johnson.

My M'Deah's voice and her laughter are integral parts of the "music" I strive for in my own work. I will be forever grateful to my Mom for ecouraging me, way back in the day, to sit down with my grandmother and record both her memories of Johnson Sub and our family's history. I still have those tapes and every now and then, I pull them out for a listen. In my grandmother's voice, there is a rhythm and a cadence that both stirs my muse and speaks to my soul . . . Yeah, I know. I'm going way too deep for some of y'all. So, let me just back up off it a bit . . . at least for now (smile).

To simplify it for you--what my M'Deah did so effortlessly and with such verbal finesse, is what I attempt to do on paper. No more and no less. Through the telling of my own stories, I hope to honor her memory as well as pay homage to all that is Southern, Black, female and inherently Good in me. So, if I misspell a word or misplace a comma or two in the process, try not to be so hard or take it too personally, okay? And if you notice me making the same doggone grammatical faux pas time and time again, by all means, step in and school a sister. I'm open to learning . . . just so long as you don't try to turn my words upside down in the process (smile). Nuff said? All right, then.

THE SATURDAY EVENING STROLL . . . NEW GROWTH REVISIONS

Just so you know, I didn't forget. But for those of you who don't recall, I said I'd share with you what changes I'd make in that last posted excerpt of New Growth, (Tuesday, October 10, 2006) had I to do it over again.

Well, for one, I'd probably divide the material into shorter pargraphs. Actually, I went ahead and took the liberty of doing so in one section of that particular excerpt. I think shorter paragraphs are a little less daunting for the average reader and a whole lot easier on the eyes.

The second thing I'd probably change would be Jackie Ann's Sunday Morning Dance routine. I don't know too many old school grandmothers (from the South in particular) who are going to put up with that kind of showing out on a Sunday morning. Jackie Ann most certainly WOULD NOT have been allowed to be all up in the living room getting her groove on to some loud secular beat. I'm not really sure how I could have rewritten the scene, but I'm thinking maybe I would had J.A. in her bedroom with the door closed and the music turned waaayy down (smile).

One of my undergrad English Comp professors once told me that you never really get finished with a piece. The more you search, the more likely you are to find something else that could a use a bit of tweaking or could have been written another way. But eventually you have to turn it loose and move on. The key, I suppose, is knowing when . . .

AN OSM TOP TEN LIST OF . . . BOOKS I'VE READ MORE THAN ONCE

1) GORILLA, MY LOVE by Toni Cade Bambara
I love short stories and this collection sits at the top of my list of favorites. I'm pretty sure I've read this particular book more than twice.

2) A GOOD MAN IS HARD TO FIND by Flannery O'Connor
If I were stranded on a deserted island, this short story collection by O'Connor would be one of the three books I'd want to have with me. I love the Southern flavor, feel and honesty of these stories.

3) SULA by Toni Morrison
What can you say about Ms. Morrison? Her prose is breath-taking. I've underlined so many passages in my copy of Sula, I'd be ashamed to loan it to anyone. I've read this book at different points in my life and I've drawn something different from it each time.

4) SONG OF SOLOMON by Toni Morrison
This is one of the those books that forced me to read it a second time, in order to "get it." But again, Ms. Morrison's prose is so beautiful, diving into it a second time was more of a pleasure than a task.

5) A RAISIN IN THE SUN by Lorriane Hansberry
I "borrowed" this book from my mother's book shelf when I was in high school and never gave it back. The screen version (starring Sidney Poiter) is also one of my top ten favs when it comes to movies.

6) FOR COLORED GIRLS WHO HAVE CONSIDERED SUICIDE / WHEN THE RAINBOW IS ENUF by Ntozake Shange
This was "the play" back in the day. I had the pleasure of seeing a couple of my friends star in the early 80's stage production LeMoyne Owen College presented of this work.

7) THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MALCOLM X as told to Alex Haley
My father gave me this book to read when I was 13. The impact this book had on me is hard to describe. In short, reading it was truly a life-altering experience.

8) THIRD GENERATION by Chester Himes
This is another book I borrowed from my mom's bookshelf and never returned. I'm still not sure I understand the story, but the beauty of Himes's prose pulls me in every time. I'm thinking I may very well read it again sometime soon.

9) MULES AND MEN by Zora Neale Hurston
Even though a great portion of this book is written in dialect (which I personally can't stand) its emphais on African American folklore appeals to the anthropologist in me. Unlike a lot of folks, I'm not a big fan of Hurston's fiction. Hate to admit this, but I didn't read Their Eyes Were Watching God until a few years ago and I still don't see what all the fuss is about.

10) IN SEARCH OF OUR MOTHERS' GARDENS by Alice Walker
This is one of my favorite collection of essays. I'm actually a bigger fan of Walker's essays and short stories than I am of her novels.

The list of books I've read more than once is actually much longer, but 10 seems like a good place to stop. So, what books have you read more than once? I'd love to see one or two or heck even ten from your list, if you feel like sharing. If you're too shy to share in the comments section, feel free to communicate with me via email. My address is : after.dance@hotmail.com

FREE FOR ALL FRIDAY . . . AN OLD SCHOOL MIX Q & A WITH MICHAEL RADCLIFF

For those of you who missed it, on Tuesday (October 31), I had the honor of posting one of my favorite poems, "Dry Hill." The following is a bit of the Q & A I recently conducted with the poem's author, Michael Radcliff.

Q: Do you have any formal training as a poet?
A: No. I took a couple of creative writing courses in college. I think they were with Berry Morgan. Maybe Ellen Douglass. (Maybe both.) That was a long time ago! Poetry was certainly not the focus, but it seem that those were the only creative writing classes to be had. You take what you can get, I guess.

Q: Can you tell me where your poems have been published?
A: Mostly in a few, now-defunct small magazines: Poet Magazine, Artbeat Magazine and a couple of others. Every magazine that has published my stuff has gone out of business. Do you think that's a bad sign?

Q: Have you won any awards for your work?
A: I got a couple of Honorable Mentions and Special Merits. My poem "Land of Childhood" won grand the Grand Prize in Poet Magazine's 1st John David Johnson Memorial Competition. It's funny, I Googled that competition the other day and saw a few people who had won or placed in that competition in the years following and I thought . . .dang . . . I won it too and I don't even have a writing resume!

Q: What inspired you to write "Dry Hill"?
A: I think what brought it on was a realization of my parent's partnership. How they revolved around each other and worked together to get . . or make what they wanted. I think this really sunk in when I saw how they took a little fisherman's cabin and a piece of land and working together turned it into a home. Shortly after they moved there, I was home for a visit and helping my mother get something out of the car. She grabbed me and motioned off to one side. There was a beauftiful doe coming out of the woods. She went right across the front yard and down to the lake. Anyway, trying to tie my folks to that place came out as "Dry Hill".

Q: So, there really is a place called Dry Hill?
A: No. Well, there is to us. We jokingly referred to their place as Dry Hill because it seemed like it would rain everywhere but up on the hill. I remember standing there watching it rain out on the road without a drop ever hitting up at the house. My folks moved from there several years ago, but I talked to my Dad last week and he said it had been raining . . . everywhere except at the house. So, I guess wherever they go is "Dry Hill".

Q: Do you have a favorite poet and/or a favorite poem?
A: Robert Frost. "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening." I have been in the woods, in the dark, when it's snowing. There is nothing more serene.

Much love goes out to Michael for agreeing to be the OSM's first guest poet! I'd like to thank, as well, all of you who read and, in particular, those of you who were kind enough to respond. Later Y'all.

BACKTRACKING TUESDAY . . . "DRY HILL" BY MICHAEL RADCLIFF

Today you're in for a special treat! Rather than any of my old creative musings, today's OSM backtrack offering comes courtesy of my good friend and poet extraordinaire, Michael Radcliff. (You'll have to forgive the formatting. SIGH! I couldn't get it quite right.)

I met Michael in Memphis, back in the late 80's. Our paths crossed during my brief and loveless tenure at a small and extremely chaotic non-profit organization. Mike befriended me right away and it didn't take us long to discover our mutual affection for the written word. My respect for Michael turned to awe the day he showed me a poem he'd penned, entitled "Dry Hill."

Even though he insists he's had no formal training, Michael estimates he's published 17 or so poems. "Dry Hill" first appeared in a 1984 issue of Poet Magazine, a small magazine that, sadly, is no longer in publication. So, without further ado, take it away Mike . . .

DRY HILL

by Michael Radcliff

We call our place Dry Hill. It seems as if the rain always passes us by.)

Mama startles awake,
but settles back.
She thought she heard the yellow rumble of The Bus
rounding the corner on dust plumes -
brown in the early morning.
Our shadowy faces smile from the wall in the half-light.

She rises quiet as a moth,
leaving Daddy in his dream;
brushing across the carpet,
through the comfort of her keep...
the almost-paid-for-furniture.
She fills a pan with water from the tap
and strikes a match to light the stove.
The yellow glow illuminates her face as a candle would -- softly
but not quite all revealing.
It is a young face
even after many, almost-paid-for-years.
The face of a farm girl with ribbons in her hair.

She steps onto the summer porch
that Daddy built for her...(she helped).
It is Spring and cool
and a faint glow preaches the morning sun.
Careful of its creaking
she perches on the swing
and lifts the steaming cup to her lips.
Daddy appears in the doorway, yawning,
before memories can begin.
There is love there
that doesn't come from any touching of hands.

Daddy inspects for The Government.
He says they're unfair
and she believes him. He doesn't lie.
Mama inspects Daddy.
Every day she turns his collar down.
She cooks him eggs
and hot biscuits from scratch.
Their kiss is brief, but telling,
and she wonders after him
as he crosses the bricks she made by hand,
to the drive he graveled,
to the almost-paid-for car.

She steps into the shadowy, emerald backyard
carrying nuts and seeds
for squirrels and birds
that wait in hiding.
They chatter at the intrusion
but accept her offering as she walks away.
She gazes down the steep bank to where
Winter Creek waltzes through the woods.
She listens to the water's structured, intrinsic babble.
The water looks as cool as ice tea...
cool, clear, clean
and green like limes.

She tends the lawn and flowers,
petting and fretting over roses--
scruffy cuttings someone else had thrown away.

She snacks on buttermilk and cornbread
and naps in the hammock.

Afternoon passes and she gathers peas and radishes,
but in the evening, she is again,
among the roses,
and when Daddy returns to Dry Hill at dusk,
she blossoms from the garden
into his harvesting arms.

Copyright 1984, 2006 by Michael Radcliff

Come on y'all, let's show Mike some love! (Applause. Cheers. Big Grins.)

(SUNDAY'S REVISION OF) THE SATURDAY STROLL . . . POETRY 101 . . . SOME OF MY FAVORITES

As much as I enjoy tuning into HBO's Def Poetry, my taste in poetry tends to lean toward the "old school." Some of my favorite poets are folks like Langston Hughes, Nikki Giovanni, Etheridge Knight and Carolyn M. Rodgers.

The first two on my list, Hughes and Giovanni are names most of you probably recognize. There can hardly be a discussion of the Harlem Renaissance without some mention of Langston and his work. The same goes for Nikki when it comes to the Black Arts Movement of the 60's and 70's.

On the other hand, the names and works of the other two poets, Etheridge Knight and Carolyn M. Rodgers aren't as widely known. But it is my sincere hope that you will take a look (if only a quick peek) at their work via the links embedded in the following commentary.

LANGSTON HUGHES There are no words to describe how much I admire Langston Hughes. His love of the oral and musical traditions of African Americans and emphasis on them in his work mirrors my own. My favorite poems by Hughes include, "The Negro Speaks of Rivers," "I, Too" and "My People."

NIKKI GIOVANNI While better known for her more strident work, I have always been fond of Nikki Giovanni's softer, more personal poems, like "Nikki-Rosa" and "Poetry" the latter of which is my all time favorite Nikki G. poem.

CAROLYN M. RODGERS My favorite poem by Carolyn Rodgers is one entitled, "Poem For Some Black Women." (note: after you get to the site, click on "featured works" and "Carolyn Rodgers" in order to view this poem ) Even though the poem was written way back in the 60's, it is a timeless gem that could very well serve as an anthem "for some" if not most of the artistically-driven, community-minded Black women I know (smile).

ETHERIDGE KNIGHT Etheridge Knight's "The Idea of Ancestry" is a poem that holds the TOP spot on my list of favorite poems. "The Idea of Ancestry" is a poem that nearly always moves me to tears, especially when I listen to the recording I own of Knight reading the piece. I FEEL that poem somewhere way down deep in my soul.

The more observant of you have probably already noticed that in addition to being "old school" all of the poets I've mentioned, thus far, are African American. Just so you know, I do like and read the work of non-African American poets, among them a dear friend of mine, Michael Radcliff.

I'm sure there will be those who will find my inclusion of Michael on my list of favorite poets, perplexing, to say the least. But Michael's poem "Dry Hill" hits me at the same visceral level as Etheridge's, Nikki's, Carolyn's and Langston's. In an upcoming post and with his permission, I intend to give you a closer look at my friend's work. Stay tuned.

BACK-TRACKING TUESDAY . . . LADIES OF THE 80's . . .

The following is my first published piece. It appeared in the March 1986 issue of Memphis State's (now the University of Memphis) Black Student Association Journal.

I don't/can't write poetry. Believe me, I do know this and I have nothing but respect for those of you who can and do. So, let's just call this a prose piece (smile). The piece holds the honor of bringing me into contact with my very first fan. About six months or so after it was published, I was coming up out of the basement of either Clement or Patterson Hall (before you go getting it twisted, they had classes down there, y'all) when I bumped into a brother who said, "Hey, I know you. Didn't you write that poem (his words, not mine), 'Ladies of the 80's' that was in the BSA journal earlier this year?" I think he even went onto recite a few lines. I was like, "Dag, you still remember that?" It was a nice moment. Anyway, here's the piece. As always, feel free to comment.

We Are The Ladies Of The 80's

by

Lori D. Johnson

Remember our first few years?

From Sunday afternoons in the park to Friday and Saturdays after dark

we played long and hard

saving any seriousness until our final year

like spoiled, fun-loving children who hurriedly rush to clean house

moments before their parents' arrival.

The world was ours to conquer and divide.

Armed with the false security of innocence and youth

we plunged tongue first

into heated discussions about what we wanted

from life

from men

from one another

and from ourselves.

We wasted money, time and tears

in our awkward and often bitter ascent

toward something called womanhood

learning one miserable lesson after another

from the mistakes--

our own

and those of our sisters.

Filled with all the thrill and terror

of babies, abortions, broken hearts and passion marks

each Alice emerged

from her own personal Wonderland

with a blues song of her own to sing.

Admid the rubble and debris

of broken promises, failing grades, sorrows, defeats and unfulfilled dreams

the seeds of maturity found a place to blossom

and now

looking back

we laugh at our efforts

question our motivies

and reflect upon our gains.

Yes, we are the Ladies of the 80's.

Brown-sugared, and honey-coated.

Hard to handle

difficult to hold

and so, so full of ourselves.

With our heads thrown back

a bit of sass in our hips

a touch of sparkle in our eyes

and rekindled fires in our hearts

we walk into the wind

knowing the journey will be hard

and full of disappointments

but each one realizing

that we have evolved from a long history of struggle.

And like those before us

we too

will survive.