Me and Tina

     Teena Marie's music was a part of the soundtrack of my middle and high school life..."young love why you wanna go old on me now?"...but one recent memory I have of her music was perhaps my husband's introduction to my habit of singing at a moments notice prompted by a word, a phrase, a sight. a taste, a sound whatever...in this case it was the first strings of "Casanova Brown" coming from the radio.
     We were on the last leg of a trip from New Orleans, in Georgia but not in "Atlanta" but close enough to get the local radio station.  I was the passenger on this trip, the one who was supposed to keep the driver awake and alert.  Instead I had finally succumb to sleep after doing the head wagging nod dance for a number of miles. I'm sure my husband was looking at me from the corner of his eyes, rolling them at me since I had promised I would stay awake, when suddenly, I awoke singing in my full 2nd alto voice "My baby's fine. He always keeps me guessing, but never leaves me guessing, about his love." and proceeded to sing every note, every "shubby dooby doo", even holding the long note in the middle until the last phrase "Over before the love turns to hate, let it end and let's still be friends."  and then the pause and finally "shu doo doo doo doo oo oooooo!".  I remember being wide awake after my "performance".  Music has that effect on me.  It's medicinal and therapeutic, it makes me feel better when I'm sick, makes me happy when I'm sad, keeps me company when I'm lonely, makes me happier when I'm already overjoyed and awakens me from a deep not supposed to be sleeping long road trip induced sleep.  Tina Marie's songs have done all of that for me.  Thankfully, she shared herself with us through her music such that even though she is physically gone, she will live on, on the radio, forever and ever...Amen. RIP Lady Tee!

TEENA MARIE CASANOVA BROWN

I WISH DEATH WOULD DIE

I wish that death would die..go away...leave me be with my family and  friends. I wish it to go quickly and quietly like too many of my friends have. Or perhaps it will go violently like a soldier or a son in the streets. How ever death dies, it won't be too soon. It won't be soon enough to take away the pain it has caused or to cover up the scars it has left.
Death is not final. Or at least I tell myself this to try to answer the whys and the hows in my mind and heart. I reconcile that those who have already succomb to it somehow live on...in us...in our children or perhaps in the wind...  a whisper...a song... 
I wish that death would die...or at least stay away a little bit longer...

Charter school in tough neighborhood gets all its seniors into college - chicagotribune.com

Charter school in tough neighborhood gets all its seniors into college - chicagotribune.com

Posted using ShareThis

These ARE my Father's and Grandfather's Saints!

Usually when something old renews itself people say "this isn't your Father's fill in the blank"...

Where were you on a hot day in August 1972? Apparently I was in New Orleans at Tulane Stadium watching a Saints game. My Grandfather, in his infinite wisdom purchased season tickets for all of his grand kids that lived in New Orleans.

"Morris you're driving like a dam fool!" my Grandfather would yell.

"Whose driving this mule?" my Dad would reply.

And thus began our family time on Sunday. My parents, Grandfather and Aunt would proceed to the plush Plaza section while my brothers and I would ascend to the terrible Terrace. I was there in 1975 when they played their first game in the Superdome. I was there for "Daddy why do those people have paper bags on their heads?". I was there when the Saints were the Aint's. I was a reluctant fan. As a matter of fact I flat out didn't want to go. It was like torture to make a child/preteen/teen girl sit in the 600 Section at the top of the Superdome with her 2 brothers watching football! On days when one or both of my brothers couldn't go because St. Aug, their highschool was playing at halftime, my best friend Shelley and I would roam the ramps making sure we didn't see the game. On the other hand , as a Saints season ticket holder I learned the game so well I could coach a team and impress or embarrass male friends with my vast knowledge of the game.
You would think that once I went to college in Atlanta and I was freed from my Saints Fan servitude, I would have given up on them. But being away from home actually had the opposite effect. Instead it made me love my city and thus my team more. I cheered for them in a dorm room in 1988 when they were pelted by snowballs by the Chicago Bears fans. Later on I second- lined into the Fulton County stadium to play our arch rivals The Falcons and then even later second-lined out of the Atlanta Dome no matter if we won or lost.

My Dad and Grandfather started my affair with The Saints. At the end of every season they would say well there's always next year. Well Dad and Pops that year has arrived! THE SAINTS ARE GOING TO THE SUPERBOWL! I know y'all are leading the second-line somewhere, my Grandfather with his umbrella and fan and my Dad with his handkerchief and one finger in the air saying WHO DAT, WHO DAT and I'm sure "when the Saints go marching in" is playing!!!!!!