#PRINCE BET Tribute or When Jennifer Hudson Tore Me Up (Purple Rain Video)

Jennifer Hudson tore my heart out singing "Purple Rain" during the Prince Tribute on the BET Awards last night. I have nothing to add to this other than Stevie Wonder and Tori Kelly appear on this video, too, and perform with love also. Stevie was undone the day Prince died (so many of us were), and Jennifer reboots all the feelings with her performance.

BET producers probably knew she had to be the one to sing Prince's anthem when they saw her impromptu tribute to the beloved megastar with the cast of The Color Purple after his death in April. . . .

Dear Pecola and Claudia, Shirley Temple's dead (Video)

   Now syndicated at BlogHer.com

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I just heard about Shirley Temple Black's death. I am an African-American woman who associates the child star with my childhood. Apparently she passed away last night, Monday, February 10, on my birthday. At age 85, she was almost 30 years older than I am now, born one year later than my mother. But in my mind, she's still around 6 years old, the symbol of a sweet little girl who can make it through any crisis.
Perhaps, even, she is the first media image I encountered that seemed to prescribe what a perfect female child should be according to Hollywood: cute and curly-headed, sunny and pleasing. How was I to know then that girl was myth?
During the 1960s, it seemed almost every week one of the television stations was running one of Shirley Temple's movies, usually on a Saturday afternoon. Sometimes I'd sit with my cousins around the black and white television in my grandmother's home in New Orleans's Gert Town. Sometimes I'd watch alone in my 7th Ward childhood home. Reruns or not, we'd watch her adventures as one character or another. And after the studios colorized the black and white films, we watched again.
This was pre-800 channels, pre-cable. It was either the Little Rascals with Buckwheat, Cowboys killing "Indians," the Three Stooges, or Shirley Temple. Thank goodness for books, but even in those we were hard-pressed to find positive images of people like us.
Most of her films were more than 20 years old when I first saw them, and although my favorite was The Little Princess (1939), when I hear Shirley Temple's name, I see her walking down that airplane aisle singing "On the Good Ship, Lollipop" in Bright Eyes (1934). That may be the image that pops up first because that's often the clip played when anyone discusses Shirley Temple in a documentary or child stars in general from that era.

I link Shirley Temple with happy times. She was innocent, I was innocent, often the center of attention in my family because my parents had struggled to have a child. I had a grandmother, a nurturing aunt, a father and mother all in the same town who I saw daily, and sometimes relatives from California or Tennessee would visit. They made me feel special, too. For the first eight years of my life, I was spoiled. After that is another story.
Back then it was common to coif little girls with "Shirley Temple curls" for holidays and other special occasions. She was so popular that a child's drink, a non-alcoholic cocktail, was named after her. Sometimes, when my parents took me with them to Dooky Chase Restaurant, I'd have one. But now, oh, what creepiness, the symbolism of a little black girl in the 1960s South imbibing Shirley Temple.
And yet, I was not fascinated with Shirley Temple the way the fictional character Pecola Breedlove is in Toni Morrison's classic novel The Bluest Eye. I had no Shirley Temple dolls, no cups with her blond curls shining and her blue eyes staring at me. In fact, I'm not even sure I registered that Shirley Temple had either blond hair or blue eyes because I first watched her in black and white. To me, Shirley Temple was just another white face on television in a time when black faces rarely appeared.
However, by the time I was six years old in 1966, I was aware that many white people did not want black people around them. After all, the ugliness of racism revealed itself on the nightly news. I doubt my parents removed me from the room when the footage rolled of dogs let loose on black teens and high pressure water hoses blasted black bodies during the marches. And these scenes played again over the years as the Civil Rights struggle remained in the news.
Also, I had a personal experience when I was about 4 or 5 years old that I still recall. My mother and I boarded a public bus in New Orleans. It was the mid-sixties, so the buses had been desegregated for at least six years by then. There must not have been many window seats because I did not sit by mother. I sat by the window in a seat next to a white woman. I guess, now, the woman must have been in her late fifties. Soon after I sat next to her, the woman huffed, got up and moved, clearly angry. My mother, watching, called me to her and said loudly, "That's okay, baby. Anybody who doesn't want to be by you is missing the opportunity to know a wonderful little girl." But I was not a dull child, so while I did not yet know the word "rejected," I recognized disgust and knew the woman thought something was wrong with me.
As a child then, for me, the measure of whether a white person was "nice" or "mean" was, Will they let you be near them? I had seen Shirley Temple dance with Bill Robinson in The Littlest Rebel and Rebecca of Sunny Brook Farm, so she must be nice. At 5 years old, that was as close as I came to today's critical race theory.

It was not until later that I understood the movie's racialized images and the racism that produced them. Bill Robinson, Uncle Billy in the movie, was the slave of Shirley Temple's character Virgie. Yes, Virgie's family was on the wrong side, but I didn't know that when I was 4 or 5 or 6 because I was not old enough yet to have learned in class that my people were once owned by white people. That's not information black parents share before they have to. And Shirley, when she filmed the movie, didn't know that either, according to what she said in interviews during the 1990s. Still, I knew more about racism when I was 6 than she did when she was 6.
Back then, I also did not know how seeing Shirley Temple on television had begun to shape my understanding of what it meant to be an adorable girl. I don't recall trying to emulate her. According to an older cousin, I was more likely to imitate an adult, but I do recall hearing my mother say to my aunt before she straightened my hair with the hot comb, "And give her Shirley Temple curls."

I recall as well at age 5 that I walked down the aisle of New Orleans's old Municipal Auditorium to the lofty sounds of "Pomp and Circumstance," a train flowing behind me, my body covered with a white, pearl-encrusted gown, a fake piece of hair to hold my tiara in place, and my own hair bouncing at my ears in those desirable curls. I was the princess of my dance school because my parents had raised the most money for my age group. A teen was the school's queen. But I was not very sweet or adorable that night, my mother told me. I didn't want anyone to stand in the pictures with me.
Did I think I was like Shirley Temple? I don't remember thinking that. Did I ever want to be Shirley Temple, no. Like Claudia in The Bluest Eye, I was not impressed with my white baby doll. I recall holding a black doll, and later I think I begged my parents for a life-sized doll (3 feet tall) that only came in white. Of course, it had blue eyes. But once I had it, I didn't like it. It scared me, and I hid it in the closet. The next year, I gave it away.
Was my mother trying to make me Shirley Temple? No. She was the one who made sure I had a black doll and the one teaching me black history facts, telling me about George Washington Carver and the story about my grandmother meeting him. She was the one who taught me about Phyllis Wheatley and had me memorize James Weldon Johnson poems. She was also the one who made black history intimate. Not only were W.E.B. DuBois, Booker T. Washington, and Nat Turner important, so were my grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-grandmother, so were my great-uncles and aunts.
As for my father? He liked Westerns, war movies, and every sport on the planet. He had stories about cows, Gypsies, snakes, his grandfather's horse, and Mount Vesuvius erupting as the Germans bombed because he was there. He didn't watch Shirley Temple. He kept an ear out for The Platters and an eye out for Lola Falana.
Eventually, I no longer watched Shirley Temple movies. I moved on to swashbuckling tales, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, Dracula movies, and Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney teen flicks. I liked those more than the teen Shirley Temple in The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer.

But I could never really get away from Shirley because America kept talking about her, so sometimes, I'd see one of those late night commercials from Time Life or something like that, selling The Shirley Temple Collection, and I'd wonder, What's she doing now? What's it like to no longer be a little darling? Did that make her a nobody? Hardly. She became a public servant, unscathed even by her ardent support for Richard Nixon. So, she'd show up in the news occasionally.
Her name filled the airwaves again when I was 14. President Gerald Ford appointed her the American Ambassador to Ghana. That may have been when I noticed that she'd married, and her last name was Shirley Temple Black. With that appointment came the great controversy. It was the mid-seventies. African-Americans were still riding the "Black is Beautiful" high, and the segregationists' flight to the Republican party remained fresh in black people's minds. So, some argued that because Shirley was a conservative, white Republican, she should not be an ambassador to an African nation. And due to the hostility African-Americans sensed from the Republican party, the belief spread that she was also "a racist."
I was in high school then, and not paying attention to why people were calling her that. All I heard was, "Hmph!" and "Shirley Temple racist." Typical teenager, my attitude was "Blasé blasé, par for the course." By that time, I had become more acquainted with disappointment and the personal wounds of racism.
With her death, these accusations have arisen again and where else other than on Twitter. Is the controversy worth anyone's energy? I have strong doubts. At this point, isn't it really about what Shirley Temple represented to those who were aware of her or influenced by her icon status in society?
I went for years without thinking about her unless her work appeared on television. Next, my daughter was watching The Little Princess and Bright Eyes. Honestly, I thought that Shirley Temple had passed away already sometime while I was in the middle of divorce.
When I had to do a presentation on The Bluest Eye two years ago, I didn't even bother to look up Shirley Temple despite her presence in the book because I felt I already knew what I needed to know about Temple's reach. I knew enough to understand Pecola Breedlove's obsession with the star, with her desire to drink milk from a Shirley Temple cup.  After all, Pecola's story unfolds during the 1940s when the blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel was still everywhere, probably on billboards towering over towns, and her movies were in theaters on a big screen, not small in a little box.
And Pecola didn't have a mother teaching her black history or a decent father or the Civil Rights Movement and "Black is Beautiful" posters. She didn't have Diana Ross and the Supremes on the Ed Sullivan Show or the Julia sitcom on television or anyone to crown her "princess" for a night and counter the forces of her self-hatred and destruction. I count myself blessed as Claudia was blessed.
And yet, six years before I conducted my presentation, I wrote a poem, "Ducks and Swans on the Lagoon (at City Park in New Orleans)." In it, the spirit of Shirley Temple appears. I pulled that poem out today and studied it. Then I posted it to my blog. So much stuff is there: the heaviness of navigating race as a child, of steering around demeaning images of the self, the idealization of whiteness, and rising above America's tragic racial history. Somehow, I had processed it and made something for myself.
No, I don't hate Shirley Temple as Claudia did. Neither do I love her madly. She was part of the scenery of my childhood, and like it she, too, now is gone.

On Shirley Temple's death, I sacrifice this poem

I say I sacrifice this poem, "Ducks and Swans on the Lagoon (at New Orleans City Park)," because usually once you post a poem online and leave it up, some literary magazines won't publish it. So, posting it here and leaving it up is like killing its publication future. But since it includes a reference to Shirley Temple Black who passed away last night, and it also covers the treacherous terrain of being a little girl black in the 1960s South, I decided to post it here while I work on an essay about the child star. When I wrote "Ducks . . .", much of what entered the poem had been floating in my subconscious for a while.

Also,  I took this poem down from Authors Den years ago when I removed poems I wanted to submit to publishers one day. However, I think technically, it's been published already. I believe it was included in a profile about me at the Poetry, Life & Times, but I don't know if that's still around. That profile's definitely no longer online. So, this poem hasn't been anywhere but my computer for a while.

Ducks and Swans on the Lagoon (at New Orleans City Park)
By Nordette N. Adams

Once I was a little girl in white,
my dress's skirt flared out, pouffing
above stubby black knees.
Lace trimmed my white socks and kissed
the ankle rims of my spiffy bright
   Stride Rite shoes, perfect for kicking
the shins of boys who'd try to steal kisses
from a little brown girl
with springy, Shirley Temple curls.
Well-scrubbed, I smelled of Ivory
Soap and Johnson's Baby Powder still.

Daddy took me to City Park then.
Always before entering I yelled
at the general atop his stone steed
at the traffic circle:
  "Come down from there,
   you ole Beauregard!"
My mom had taught me to resist racism,
dead and living, I suppose.
In this way she inoculated me
from bigotry. She knew I'd surely meet
it one day on the streets
of New Orleans, Louisiana.

But back then I was just a little girl
with Shirley Temple curls in white,
sitting with her Daddy, giddy,
light and eager to feed ducks and swans.
They glided, rarely flapping above
the placid waters
of the City Park Lagoon.

And we cast our bread upon the waters
and fed the birds--ducks, swans, and
fat pigeons on the bank.
I was happy.

© Copyright March 2005 Nordette Adams

Lee Thompson Young, Dead at 29

I just learned through a friend on Facebook that The Famous Jett Jackson actor Lee Thompson Young is dead at age 29. According to reports from TMZ and hard news organizations, such as ABC and the Chicago Tribune, Jackson committed suicide. He died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Young didn't show up for work today, say sources. His landlord discovered his body after someone on staff with TNT's Rizzoli & Isles asked the landlord to check on him.

This news is pure heartbreak for me. I watch Rizzoli & Isles. I also remember him on Smallville, and my son watched him on Disney as Jett Jackson. Whenever he sees Young in anything, the first thing out of his mouth is, "Hey! It's Jett Jackson." I felt good seeing him move from child actor to maintaining a career, something that's hard to do, especially for African-American actors. Now this. So, young. So, tragic.

This is as shocking to me as Cory Monteith's death. I am old enough to be these actors' mother, and when I hear of their tragic deaths, I think about how my own son might take such news, how might it shape his outlook on life. What dark options for dealing with existential problems and misery do these types of deaths plant in the minds of these young men's peers?

Monteith's death was not intentional, but it was the result of indulging a dark coping mechanism, drugs, and perhaps, unknown to fans, Young may have struggled with depression or had some issue that made him feel facing the next day of life was too difficult. For some people, when facing a trial, the survival instinct grows weak and without something else to cling to--such as grasping how much pain your death will cause others or having a greater faith in your future or that an unseen power wants you to overcome the pain--the will to live or to find new ways to cope dwindles.

If those people could perceive in their dark night of soul that life goes in cycles, then maybe they could fight harder to survive the bad cycles knowing things will get better. I know this because I struggle to make it through myself sometimes, and I'm not talking about an ordinary blues.

This kind of tragedy also makes me wonder what leaks through when we see an actor's on-screen performance. How much of an actor's real self is she or he able to conceal when portraying a character. I thought Monteith's Glee character, Finn, seemed fragile and sensitive later in the show. Similarly, in the last episode of Rizzoli &; Isles I saw, it occurred to me that Young's character, Barry Frost, seemed a little unsure of himself. However, I thought the writers may have been changing the course of the character. It seemed as though another character, Frankie Rizzoli, was growing stronger than the Barry character.

It never occurred to me that Young himself may have been in some kind of psychic/emotional struggle. We just never know between screen and real life what's really going on, do we?

I send my prayers and condolences to his family and friends. This is a hard loss.

Roger Ebert has died: We have lost a treasure

Phenomenal movie critic Roger Ebert passed away today. I knew he had cancer and had been suffering with the disease for years and that he was older than I am, so perhaps I should have perceived that he may pass away soon. Yet even when I saw in my news feed yesterday a headline saying that his cancer had returned, I did not expect only two days later to hear of his death.

Why would I expect to have some inkling that Roger Ebert's death was so near? I didn't know him personally. I had no way of being privy to how sick he was, and yet, like many Americans of my era, having encountered his work and appreciated his shining intellect, I thought that somehow I knew him well.



I watched his show with Gene Siskel, Sneak Previews on PBS, and then, when the pair went to commercial television, I watched At the Movies and later Siskel & Ebert At the Movies. I tuned in religiously for a time and supported their decision to leave PBS. I liked watching the rivalry between the two, and yes, I always favored Roger over Gene. For some reason I suspected that if ever met Roger, he and I would get along well.

Even after I married and began running about with a child in tow and my trips to the movies became fewer, I still followed Siskel & Ebert. I remember when other movie critics popped up to get in on their action, I resented these interlopers. And later, as I became too busy to catch Siskel & Ebert on television and as the Internet became easier to use, I'd look up their reviews online if I thought I might escape to see a show. After Gene Siskel died, I continued to looked up Ebert's take on new films. As I said, Roger was always my favorite.

I recall when he showed up on Twitter. As soon as I saw he had an account and was actually tweeting himself, I followed him. It as as though I had spotted an old friend. This is when I discovered that he had opinions about more than movies, and I often agreed with him on political matters as well.

When I learned of his death, I immediately thought of society's loss and then of his wife, Chaz (with him in the picture up top), a woman of whom I have been secretly envious at times because she lived with a mate who loved movies, art, and literature and who, though ill, still had a keen mind and retained his sharp wit. Now I see that there was something else appealing about him: he did not feel threatened by strong women. The Chicago Tribune reports:

An enthusiastic and self-proclaimed aficionado of beautiful and accomplished women—he had a bit of a crush and a friendship with Oprah Winfrey for a short time—Ebert married trial attorney Charlie “Chaz” Hammel-Smith on July 18, 1993.

His affection for her and her extended family peppers the book, and his love for her is palpable: “My life as an independent adult began after I met Chaz.”

So is his gratitude for her indefatigable devotion during his operations and rehabilitations, writing: “I was very sick. ... This woman never lost her love, and when it was necessary she forced me to want to live. ... Her love was like a wind pushing me from the grave.”

A talented critic, a gifted writer, and apparently a romantic as well, Ebert will be missed. We have lost a treasure.

Related Links:

• Roger Ebert dies after battle with Cancer, Chicago Sun Times
• Roger Ebert dead: Film critic had the soul of a poet, Chicago Tribune 
• Roger Ebert wins the New Yorker caption contest, The New Yorker
• Roger Ebert, RIP, Whatever.
• Thirteen things Roger Ebert said better than anyone else, Buzzfeed H/T @ le0pard13
• Some of his funniest quotes and best take-downs, the Huffington Post

Rodney King Found Dead at Bottom of Pool

What can I say about the death of Rodney King at age 47 but R.I.P., accidental and imperfect icon. I wish I could say that his death represents the end of an era, but with the Trayvon Martin case, the Darius Simmons case (not his murder as much as how the police treated the family while his body lay on the sidewalk) and other similar cases, I know any announcement of an end to police officers brutalizing black people or trampling their rights would be a leap. (And yes, I know that all police officers are not racist or dishonest; I know that we have criminals in the black community who leave more death and destruction in their wake than police departments; and I know that Rodney King was no angel, but why is it that black people have to be angels in order to receive the same protections of their rights as others in America?)

For readers too young to recall King's significance, he was the black man who became a symbol for racially-motivated police brutality after four white police officers were caught on camera beating him in 1991. King almost died from the blows; doctors operated for at least five hours. Despite the video evidence, hospital records, and pictures of King's pummeled face, jurors acquitted the officers, and the incredible verdict set off a fury of rioting in Los Angeles.

CNN reports today that King drowned:

"Police in Rialto, California, received a 911 call from King's fiancee, Cynthia Kelly, about 5:25 a.m., said Capt. Randy DeAnda. Responding officers found King at the bottom of the pool, removed him and attempted to revive him. He was pronounced dead at a local hospital, DeAnda said.

There were no preliminary signs of foul play, he said, and no obvious injuries on King's body. Police are conducting a drowning investigation, DeAnda said, and King's body would be autopsied."

In 1991, an amateur videographer recorded King's beating, and per CNN, Milton Grimes (King's attorney) said then, "We finally caught the Loch Ness Monster with a camcorder."

That was how the beating on video struck many African Americans, as finally we have proof that police officers abuse their powers in the black community. So, when the jury found the officers not guilty, all hell broke loose.

Clive Davis's Tribute to Whitney Houston, Pre-Grammy Party

Via YouTube, "Whitney Houston's mentor Clive Davis pays tribute to the singer just hours after her death at his pre-Grammy party. Report by Mark Morris." You may also appreciate BlogHer's tribute to the star, and more tributes and news at CNN.

R.I.P. Don Cornelius: Soul Train's Creator Is Dead

The first video in this post shows a scene from a 1974 Soul Train episode in which Soul Train creator Don Cornelius interviews the Godfather of Soul James Brown, and the clip includes a young Al Sharpton presenting Brown with an award. I thought this clip would be appropriate upon hearing that Don Cornelius has passed away at age of 75. Soul Train did so much more for the black community than feature music. (However, at the end I have a clip of Cornelius dancing in the Soul Train Line) The sadder news in this is the revelation that Cornelius committed suicide:

Officers responding to a report of a shooting found Cornelius at his Mulholland Drive home at around 4 a.m., police said. He was pronounced dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound at 4:56 a.m. at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, said Los Angeles County Assistant Chief Coroner Ed Winter.

I can't say more right now except add that Soul Train was an important part of my youth during the 70s. It arrived during the Black is Beautiful era and brought into my family's den and homes around the world the performances of Aretha Franklin, Chaka Khan & Rufus, Curtis Mayfield, the O'Jays, the Temptations, Marvin Gaye, Gladys Knight and the Pips, the Jackson 5, Janet Jackson, even Elton John, and so many more plus the famous Soul Train Dance Line. Some people tuned in just to see that. For instance, in an interview on 60 Minutes long ago, when asked who he liked to watch dance, the legendary Fred Astaire said he watched Soul Train to see "the kids" and their innovative dance moves.

I have to digest the news that Don Cornelius killed himself even though I'm aware that his life had signs that he was a troubled man. May his soul rest in peace.

In the video below, Cornelius dances in the Soul Train Line with Mary Wilson of the Supremes.



Updated to include this link to Don Charnus's article, "Why Don Cornelius Matters."

NFL Star's Wife Dies of Lung Cancer One Month After Wedding

This story reminds me of Ryan O'Neal and Ali MacGraw's movie, Love Story, but this story is true and the people are African-American.

I discovered this true love story through a friend who shared it on Facebook via Clutch Magazine. LaKeasha Monique Rutledge-Draft and NFL free agent Chris Draft, the couple in a very moving weding video, were married on November 27, 2011, and one month later, December 27, Keasha died from lung cancer. ... As you can see in the wedding video produced by KRJ Productions, members of the bridal party wheeled the bride down the aisle, but she stood, walked, and took her vows sitting next to the groom. Later in the video you'll see her walk arm-in-arm with Chris down the aisle while a friend holds her oxygen tank. She also dances with her husband standing right behind her at the reception, and you can see the medical tube coming from her nose and circling around her cheeks.

Keasha was born in South Carolina and worked as a ... Read more at WritingJunkie.net.

R.I.P. Steve Jobs

When I first heard four hours ago that Steve Jobs died today, I couldn't take in the information. And I still can't take it in even though I knew about his battle against pancreatic cancer and his liver transplant. I figured when he resigned from Apple in August that his health was an issue. So, I'll just place a few links here.

1. Steve Jobs's Stanford speech
2. My Neighbor, Steve Jobs
3. Goodnight, Steve Jobs: A Hero's Goodbye
4. Steve Jobs, Apple Founder, Dies

Leslie Esdaile Banks, Vampire Huntress Author, Has Died

I am saddened to report that author Leslie Esdaile Banks has passed away. You may recognize her under the name L. A. Banks. I learned of this news through Tananarive Due's Facebook page, but I have confirmed it through other sources.

Ms. Banks wrote the The Vampire Huntress Legend series, and I first discussed her fiction in a piece called "The Indisputably Black Vampires of Jewelle Gomez, L.A. Banks, and Octavia Butler." That Examiner.com article includes video of Ms. Banks addressing a science fiction group in New Jersey.

If you follow HBO's vampire series True Blood, you may have also seen the author "featured as a speaker on the HBO Special on Vampire Literature and Legends as a prelude to the True Blood premier," according to her bio. That HBO special is also available on YouTube.

From Galley Cat's report:

Leslie Esdaile wrote many novels under different pseudonyms, but published her popular Vampire Huntress Legend series and the Crimson Moon series under the name of L.A. Banks. The writer will be honored at a memorial event on August 6th.

That event was apparently planned before her death and was partly a fundraiser to help with the author's growing medical expenses as she battled adrenal cancer. See the Philadelphia Liars Club blog for more information about the gathering.

You may check the author's Facebook fan page and possibly her website for more information about the memorial or funeral arrangements. In addition, you may donate to the fund to help her family pay her medical expenses here.

This news has really shaken me because I didn't know Ms. Banks was ill.

Update, August 3: Her obituary at Philly.com.

Rest In Peace, Phoebe Snow

The L.A. Times and other news sources report that singer Phoebe Snow has died from complications due to a stroke suffered in January 2010. I love her music, which was a large part of my youth in the 1970s. I am saddened at this news. She was 60 years old.

The video up top is Snow singing "Poetry Man," and the one below is "Love Makes A Woman" with dancers on Soul Train. A DJ played the latter at the Zulu Ball that I attended during Mardi Gras. It was one of the songs that made the evening.

R.I.P. Teena Marie (Video)

CNN is reporting that R&B singer Teena Marie, known for singing with the late Rick James and also having a powerhouse voice, has died in her sleep at age 54. Her manager says she suffered a grand mal seizure earlier this year.

The video below is the original recording of "Fire and Desire," her most famous duet with James and the version I bought when I was a 19 or 20 and it was new. I bought it again for my mp3 player last year, and below that is a clip from her singing at the 2004 BET Awards with James. However, I recall hearing "Lovergirl" on the radio often, too. She recorded with both Motown and Epic. Her official website dubs her "the Ivory Queen of Soul."



2004 BET Awards, Rick James with Teena Marie.


She also appeared on The View, it seems, in 2009.

A Bitter Black Woman? More on Lena Horne

I just finished posting on Lena Horne for BlogHer.com, and the more I read about her and how some people perceive her, the more I think that maybe beautiful women, in particular beautiful, fair-skinned black women, aren't allowed to be angry. Having become aware of James Gavin's biography of Horne, Stormy Weather: The Life of Lena Horne, it occurs to me that had Horne been white, much of her fiery temperament would have been classified as creative spirit and the usual trappings of the prima donna personality.

Instead, Horne's presented as someone who was not grateful and gracious enough. What do you think? Read more.

Legend Lena Horne Passes Away at 92

At the African-American Books Examiner,
Two Books on Lena Horne

The New York Times and other news sources report that Lena Horne died last night, Sunday, Mother's Day 2010.

Lena Horne, who was the first black performer to be signed to a long-term contract by a major Hollywood studio and who went on to achieve international fame as a singer, died on Sunday night at New York-Presbyterian/Weill Cornell Medical Center in New York. She was 92 and lived in Manhattan.

Her death was announced by her son-in-law, Kevin Buckley.

Ms. Horne might have become a major movie star, but she was born 50 years too early, and languished at MGM in the 1940s because of the color of her skin, although she was so light-skinned that, when she was a child, other black children had taunted her, accusing her of having a “white daddy.” ... Read Obituary at NYT

The NYT obituary continues with facts about her life such as her marriage in 1947 to Lennie Hayton, a white man. They were married in France and the union was kept secret for three years, according to the Times. I think most of the pieces you'll read about her life will talk about her great beauty and talent and how her success was limited by her being born during segregation. Still, Ms. Horne lived fully.

Her death, nevertheless, struck me more deeply than expected because two days ago I was looking at photos of her, thinking how well she's been doing in her 90s, and then the thought crossed my mind that she wouldn't be with us much longer. When I saw this news on my Blackberry, I leapt up and went to my computer to share this quick post, acknowledging her life. She was something else, very classy.

I still prefer her rendition of "Stormy Weather," from the 1943 movie by the same name, over other versions. I'm a fan of musicals, and after watching so much Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse, I glued myself to the TV if I saw black people in a Hollywood musical.

The AP obituary includes a story I've heard elsewhere about Max Factor creating a make-up just for her:

A movie offer from MGM came when she headlined a show at the Little Troc nightclub with the Katherine Dunham dancers in 1942.

Her success led some blacks to accuse Horne of trying to "pass" in a white world with her light complexion. Max Factor even developed an "Egyptian" makeup shade especially for the budding actress while she was at MGM.

But in his book "Gotta Sing Gotta Dance: A Pictorial History of Film Musicals," Kobal wrote that she refused to go along with the studio's efforts to portray her as an exotic Latin American.

"I don't have to be an imitation of a white woman that Hollywood sort of hoped I'd become," Horne once said. "I'm me, and I'm like nobody else."

Horne was only 2 when her grandmother, a prominent member of the Urban League and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, enrolled her in the NAACP. But she avoided activism until 1945 when she was entertaining at an Army base and saw German prisoners of war sitting up front while black American soldiers were consigned to the rear.

That pivotal moment channeled her anger into something useful.

She got involved in various social and political organizations and — along with her friendship with Paul Robeson — got her name onto blacklists during the red-hunting McCarthy era.(AP)

My mother always spoke highly of her whenever she came on television in later years as I was growing up.

According to Regret the Error, Entertainment Tonight erroneously reported Ms. Horne's passing December 2008.

I conclude with more videos of her, one on the Dean Martin Show in 1967. This is the Lena I would have grown up seeing. And below that is her 1997 GAP commercial followed by her Rosie O'Donnell interview.





In this 1997 interview, Ms. Horne was about to celebrate her 80th birthday.

Rapper Guru Succumbed to Cancer, Passed Away Monday

It strikes me as either a fitting poetic flourish or a bitter irony that the rapper Guru passed away during Jazz Appreciation Month, National Poetry Month (Rap is poetry), and during National Minority Cancer Awareness Week, which I just wrote about a few hours ago. Guru was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, a cancer of the white blood cells, more than a year ago, but wanted his diagnosis kept private.

His music video below features Chaka Khan and New Orleans musician Branford Marsalis performing "Watch What You Say." He died Monday due to complications from the cancer and was only 43, reports CNN.

Guru "found solo success with his series of "Jazzmatazz" albums, where he combined hip-hop and jazz," says the CNN article, and his obituary in the New York Times notes he was known for social themes. You'll hear an example of his jazz/Hip Hop music in this video.



I heard about his death reading a Facebook post by singer Stephanie Renee who was also discussing another loss in the black community, the passing of Civil Rights leader Dorothy Irene Height, age 98.

Read more about National Minority Cancer Awareness Week as well as National Volunteer Week at my earlier post.

Even Prince Watched Dynasty in the 80s. Do You Remember Diahann Carroll on the Show?

Earlier I wrote about the death of John Forsythe. His passing's bringing up some memories.

We older folk remember the silver-haired Forsythe as not only the voice of Charlie, the unseen boss on Charlie's Angels, but also the patriarch Blake Carrington on Dyansty. The picture here shows Forsythe with living legend Diahann Carroll on that nighttime soap, where she played Blake's half-sister, Dominique Deveraux.

She was possibly the first and only fictional black character with money on a nighttime soap during that period (1981 to 1989). In addition, the storyline may have been the first time a television show acknowledged that black people and white people sometimes make babies together, which was kind of edgy back then. TV had learned with the Captain Kirk and Nyota Uhura kiss to avoid the implications of interracial sex whenever possible.



For Carroll, breaking ground was nothing new. Some of us recall watching her on television in childhood. She was one of the first positive black role models on television, playing Julia, a nurse with her own show.

Carroll's still working. She will appear in the upcoming Lifetime movie At Risk, based on a Patricia Cornwell mystery. The movie airs April 10. She's playing the role of Nana. Visit her website.

I also recall Billy Dee Williams on Dynasty. He played the role of Dominique's husband/love interest, Brady Lloyd, a character based on Motown's Berry Gordy. Having starred with Dianna Ross in Lady Sings the Blues and in other movies, including Star Wars, and television shows, Williams was a major black heartthrob back then. Coincidentally, he actually played Berry Gordy in the miniseries The Jacksons: An American Dream.

I was prompted to write this post because as I listened to Prince (yes, I do that a lot) on iTunes singing his hit "Kiss," 1985, I heard him sing the lyric "You don't have to watch Dynasty to have an attitude." So, I decided to post the "Kiss" video, and the next thing I knew I was writing a post about Dynasty and Diahann Carroll.

Prince - Kiss

Anthony | MySpace Video

While Dynasty was not quite as popular as Dallas that featured the Ewings with the infamous J.R. as patriarch during the reign of the nighttime soaps, Dynasty still had tons of fans. Apparently even his Royal Purpleness peeped in on the show. Comedians sometimes called the show "Die Nasty!" because it had some outrageously evil characters.

John Forsythe, Charlie's Angel Boss, Dynasty Star, dead at 92

I've been flying under the radar, avoiding the Net and not watching the news, and so I only learned actor John Forsythe was dead this morning when I clicked over to CNN. He was big in the 70s and bigger in the 80s, mostly on TV; however, his career started long before those decades.

With his silver hair and the way he carried himself, he was one of those men who looked rich no matter what he wore. He had that old-school movie star air about him even though he was not a major movie star.

I watched him as the patriarch Blake Carrington on the nighttime soap Dynasty from 1981 to 1989 (Even Prince watched Dynasty), and he was also the voice of the unseen, mysterious boss Charlie on Charlie's Angels from 1976-1981. When the Charlie's Angels movies came out, I went to see it wondering if he would do the voice again, and he did. Forsythe was 92 at his death.

Here's video of the actor, one an overview of his career and the other is an old Larry King interview in which he talks about his Dynasty role and Joan Collins's wild life:





Read his obituary at the New York Times

Teddy Pendergrass Dies at 59

Multiple news sources, including The Root, report that R&B legend Teddy Pendergrass died yesterday of colon cancer at age 59. The Philadelphia, Penn., native passed away in a Philadelphia hospital.

Dan DeLuca, the Philadelphia Inquirer's music critic opens his piece on Pendergrass, saying:

... the gruff-voiced Philadelphia soul powerhouse who belted out hits like "The Love I Lost" and "If You Don't Know Me By Now" as lead singer of Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes in the 1970s for Philadelphia International Records and went on to forge an influential solo career as a seductive bedroom balladeer, has died. (PI)

MTV has a write-up of the singer's life, which includes how he influenced the work of other performers such as Kanye West and Jaz-Z. It also quotes a tweet from singer Tyrese, "who showed a twitpic of him with the soul legend at Pendergrass' wedding (and) wrote a series of messages."

"I'M SAD," he said. "I was just informed from Teddy Pendergrass' wife that Teddy is no longer us with us ... Rest in heaven." (MTV story quoting Tyrese on Twitter)

CNN reports on the singer's death as well. However, its story posted at 1:32 a.m. today makes no mention of cancer:

His family did not reveal details about his illness, but said it was related to complications from a 1982 car accident, Barbaris said.

"His beloved family surrounded him. The world has lost one of its greatest voices and performers," a statement from Barbaris said.

"His family is devastated. He has three children and, even though it was expected, it still hurts," she said. (See photo gallery at Essence Magazine's site, The amazing Teddy Pendergrass.)

The crooner, who many affectionately knew as just "Teddy," started in music with a group called the Cadillacs in the late 1960s and was still with the group when it merged with Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, according to his official Web site. (Read more at CNN)

Like Essence, the Washington Post has a photo slideshow of Teddy P. The paper also reports the same news from The Root via the Associated Press:

Pendergrass was diagnosed with colon cancer in 2009 and had undergone surgery in June of last year. According to son Teddy Pendergrass II, the R&B legend had a difficult recovery. "He will live on through his music," Pendergrass said of his father in a statement. (AP)

I am saddened and also surprised because I didn't know he was struggling with cancer. A fan of Teddy P., I added his hits to my MP3 player in November, seeing that I hadn't moved his work from CD to digital in my collection. I realized it while listening to "It Don't Hurt Now" on Blip.FM, after which I tweeted the song.

I have my share of warm memories of listening to Teddy P. Here are some of my favorites.

"Wake Up Everybody," 1975, performed with Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes was an R&B hit that reflected the changing times and call to action of the black community in the 70s.

Grammy-nominated "If You Don't Know Me By Now," 1972, was also recorded with Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes.

In 1978, I may have been standing at a record store when the doors opened for my copy of his album Life is a Song Worth Singing. Back then I bought music I liked almost as soon as the songs hit the airwaves, and I wore out "Close the Door," and "When Somebody Loves You Back."

He was one of the few singers who could talk through sections of his songs and I found it believable, not disturbing to the flow or phony.

When his Rolls Royce crashed in 1982, reportedly due to brake failure, and as a result he was paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair, I felt like somebody I knew personally had been injured. With others, I thought that was the end of his career, but he soon made appearances again. Per Wikipedia and other sources, he performed at the Live Aid concert in 1985, and also according to Wikipedia, he recorded a duet, "Hold Me" in 1984, with a then-unknown Whitney Houston.

Now I'm remembering more songs by Pendergrass that I've loved both before and after 1978 that I liked and purchased. However, I'm not the only one recalling Teddy Pendergrass today.

Marvalus at Conversations with Marva recalling Teddy under "Come on and Go With Me." She remembers that her mother was "in love" with Teddy Pendergrass.

Natasha at Young, Black and Fabulous informed readers of the singer's passing, and immediately received comments from those who appreciated his music. And at MrsGrapevine, the blogger writers, "My heart is broken.

My Old School Friday people know how much I love Teddy Pendergrass. Words just can’t express what his music does to me. In spite of the car accident of 1982 that left him paralyzed, he was one of the sexiest singers in my mom’s generation. My mother said, at concerts women would literally throw their panties on the stage. (We can’t relate to that because none of today’s artist have that much power with their voice). (MrsGrapevine.com)

Finally, here he is performing his Joy live. He was nominated for a Grammy in 1989 for best male R&B vocal performance on this one.

Echoing Tyrese, may Teddy P. rest in musical heaven.

Also syndicated at BlogHer.com.

Sen. Ted Kennedy Has Died, Report News Outlets

I heard through email and have confirmed through both national and local news that Massachusetts Sen. Edward Kennedy, 77, beloved by many, scorned by some, has passed away. Called the "Lion of the Senate," Kennedy died this morning at his home in Hyannis Port, Mass. With reports since last year of his battle with cancer, a brain tumor, and the close scare he had during President Barack Obama's run for the White House, I guess I and everyone else should have expected this, but it still feels strange, like the last great giant from a family of giants is dead.

I had the opportunity to meet Sen. Kennedy in the spring of 2008 and wrote during his birthday celebration this March the following:

I was in a room with Sen. Kennedy about this time last year, close enough to touch him, with people who adore him. I applaud the senator for his work with healthcare reform, a subject on which I have strong feelings. His birthday seems like a sweet victory that even his opponents cheer ... Kennedy suffers from aggressive brain cancer. (WSATA 3/09)

I add this evening that even in ill health, he had a light and showed a love for people. Even while ill, he tried to ensure Massachusetts. would have representation in the event of his death by passing a law to have a temporary replacement in place. However, that did not come to fruition.

Not only was he a champion for health care reform, but also powerhouse on Civil Rights. In addition, he threw the Kennedy brand behind Barack Obama, endorsing him and persuading his family to do so.



From CNN, his family's statement and some background:

"We've lost the irreplaceable center of our family and joyous light in our lives, but the inspiration of his faith, optimism and perseverance will live on in our hearts forever," a family statement said. "We thank everyone who gave him care and support over this last year, and everyone who stood with him for so many years in his tireless march for progress toward justice."

Kennedy, nicknamed "Ted," was the younger brother of slain President John F. Kennedy and New York Sen. Robert Kennedy, who was gunned down while seeking the White House in 1968. However, his own presidential aspirations were hobbled by the controversy around a 1969 auto accident that left a young woman dead, and a 1980 primary challenge to then-President Jimmy Carter that ended in defeat.

But while the White House eluded his grasp, the longtime Massachusetts senator was considered one of the most effective legislators of the past few decades. Kennedy, who became known as the "Lion of the Senate," played major roles in passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, the Voting Rights Act of 1965, the 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act and the 1993 Family and Medical Leave Act, and was an outspoken liberal standard-bearer during a conservative-dominated era from the 1980s to the early 2000s.

From MSNBC:

Nancy Reagan ‘terribly saddened’
Former President Ronald Reagan's wife Nancy reacted to the news of Kennedy's death, saying:

"I was terribly saddened to hear of the death of Ted Kennedy tonight.

Given our political differences, people are sometimes surprised by how close Ronnie and I have been to the Kennedy family. But Ronnie and Ted could always find common ground, and they had great respect for one another.

In recent years, Ted and I found our common ground in stem cell research, and I considered him an ally and a dear friend. I will miss him.

My heart goes out to Vicki and the entire Kennedy family." (MSNBC)

MSNBC also has a presentation of Ted Kennedy over the years.

The front page of the New York Times had a subhead calling Sen. Kennedy "gifted and flawed." That is a true statement that is often applied to great men. Adam Clymer, his biographer, said he is the Kennedy we saw grow old and probably affected the lives of more Americans that either of his brothers. His death is being called "the end of an era."