Hello, hello, hello - what have I found on this grand day?

I found I was running low on toilet tissue. I found I could make something with that dwindling roll. I noticed I could 'squeeze' my 'Charmin', just right and make a lovely heart that 'reaches out'....... Out, I went to get more tissue; came back, and had a pile of e-mails to read.

Well, 'hello', a beautiful lady wrote me a terrific e-mail. Now, I've never really promoted too many people on any of my blogs - a few, but they are rare because I'm not always so 'struck' by kindness; genius, or sincerity. Today I was very fortunate. I visited 'Justice's blog and website; found the most appropriate poem for this 'blog', and am adding the poem and link to her book. I think you'll enjoy it as much as I did, and do. Here it is:

Atmosphere for Blues

Here we are living by new rules;
Taught by a mortal who says "I rule"!
Learn us to work and serve you by means anything but smooth.
Learn us to pray to your god fervently, while you sit in your pews and snooze.
Learn us to read the words you write and mislead us with the terms you use.
Let us go and now we're free, but only good enough to shine your shoes.
Let us go and now we're free to protect and defend your rules.
Let us go and now we're free to die in battle when we were just trying to get money to attend your schools.
Taught by the fields and the streets; you lock us up 'cause we don't obey your rules.
Let us out and now we're free to be in your streets
Surrounded by stores you fill with booze.
Freedom and justice...a nice sounding phrase, but to us it's just a ruse.
Put on the stage in roles played for your pleasure like puppets only to amuse.
So, here we are living by these ill-fated rules.
Free at last! Free at last!
At least that's what we presume, but our security is shattered,
Our faces battered and again before you we stand
In another one of your court rooms.
"Away with the key-his face we don't wanna see out here on our streets"!
So, here we are and deep inside we know the truth.
We're put in a place where we're not accepted, always rejected,
And for all our services--our just compensation remains neglected.
So, here we are and this is why in low soul-full keys
We sing, hum and chant the low down dirty blues.

To order your copy of The Breadth of Love by Justice Jones, go to:

http://www.buybooksontheweb.com keyword: Breadth
Or call toll-free (877) 289-2665

"Hello - my goodness your 4th husband looks like"....well you know who.

Let's see my first husband reminded people of 'no one famous' (nice). My 2nd husband looked like Burt Reynold's twin brother; that got him into a few places that without 'Burt's name', I doubt he'd have been so 'slick'. My 3rd husband looked like Marlon Brando - more 'favors'...thank you Marlon. Oh did I fail to mention they were alcoholics; ended up using drugs, and having affairs - including fathering 2 children by other women during my marriages to them?

My 4th husband - well you have that picture right above this
entry. Sad to report, he ended up with the 'in crowd', and in lots of trouble because of 'being in' - I had to file for divorce because of his
newly-adopted cocaine habit.

My 5th husband was 6'5"; blond-haired, blue-eyed - strong, and strikingly handsome. What I noticed about him when I met him, was 'just his winning smile'. I can tell you he sang like an angel; drank like a fish, and beat me like a master beats his slave.

Let's see, now who wants to be married to
a person who 'looks like' someone famous (because of t.v. and movies); or might
be handsome or pretty to look at, but it's hard to see all that beauty when
you've got one black eye; and the other one is purple and swollen shut. We need to
learn to see with our hearts, and not with our eyes, and because mine were blackened a good deal of the time, I learned even faster....

"Hello Willie - this is the IRS"

...and Wesley Snipes is next!

Frank would call me in the morning; sing a few of the lyrics from 'Hello'

Then Frank would call me at noon; sing some of the words from 'Three Times A Lady". We'd have dinner; put the moon-roof back - turn up his favorite cassette (back then it was cassettes), and drive for an hour or so, with the moon-light shining on us - singing....

I remember when my youngest son told me he was in love...

After telling me he wanted to marry a young lady who was Mexican, he said: "I knew you'd understand, after all you wanted to marry a black man - I remember Frank; he was so much fun to be around."

I surely knew what he meant (and felt). It's easy to type these words as I listen to the first five songs I've picked. They were Frank's songs he'd sing to me - the voice of an angel. He loved Lionel Ritchie; his voice was even more beautiful, and he'd sing to me while I played the piano. I've never had such a 'closeness' or a bond with another who loved music the way I do.

Now my son celebrates his 6th wedding anniversary next month; to his beloved Gabriella. It is a beautiful love - I could put their picture here, but he asked me not to, suffice to say they have made a beautiful life together - a perfect love - one they could both see was possible regardless of the outside world and their opinions.

In Memory of Frank Stewart; November 3, 1946 - October 11, 1984

I completed a blog for Billy Tipton; a woman born in 1914, but because of discrimination she chose to pose as a man all her life. She loved music (so do I). She wanted to play her music with 'the guys' - back then, women just didn't frequent night-clubs where the type of music she loved to play. There were 'torch singers', but like most 'good' ladies who probably envied them - they were just 'hussies'.

I thought about her masquerade; I remembered my own experience when dating and loving a black man, was just 'so wrong'. I remember Frank telling me that no one would accept a black and white couple. I remember a lot of things we did together; the joy and love we had, and I wish Frank were alive to see Obama as a candidate for president. I wish he could have seen Oprah and realized a black woman can be a huge success in this country of ours.

Frank died of a heart attack at the age of 38; I'll put a few memories here, but for now, I wanted to create a place of 'music' that Frank would have loved - the kind we used to dance to 30 years ago.