Some pills are harder to swallow than others. However, some remedies are not in the form of a pill. Not everything that tastes sweet is candy, and not all medicine is administered with a needle.
Let me take you to the doctors office. The room was dimly lit with a single lamp, and there were posters of bands on the walls, and ceiling. There was a couple of pieces of art, some original sketches that hung above the beds. They were of cougars and lions penciled that appeared so life like, like they were actual photos almost. There was another very life like picture over the other bed, of an old lamp, done in pastels by the doctor's sister. A stereo between the two beds, and speaker cabinets at the end of each bed that were taller than me, once placed on their pedestals. That stereo would pump out some happening tunes! The old songs take me back sometimes.
The imperfect Christian can remember his middle uncle playing some old Spinners tunes, and singing. When the imperfect Christian was just a little tyke approximately 6 or 7 years of age. The little imperfect Christian used to think to himself, and say, "Wow, he should be singing on stage with the Spinners, and not just in his room!" Unc knew every word, sang in perfect time, never missing a beat, danced, and sang on key in every tune! That was medicine for my soul. All of my uncles sang to me, and helped ease my spirit with music!
I am blessed to work in music now. Music is sweet, sweet medicine.
My eldest uncle DJ'ed a tape for me, and put some smooth Jazz on it, one summer just before my teen years. I would have rather had some old school rap back in the day, because that's all I listened to. Now I have the songs he sent to me back in the day on my ipod! My oldest uncle has a deep radio voice, and called out the selection better than most of the cats I listened to on the radio, so it was too cool! I could see him in LA, in a booth, making the ladies melt as he spoke and played track over the airwaves. A station could put some shades on him, place him on a billboard, and use the slogan, "Just call the doctor he's in!" OK, just a thought, but now I know what I want for Christmas, a new mixtape from the big guy, doing the smooth DJ intro's! I've got dibs before any of my family reads this, and calls him. You are all too late! HA!
Unfortunately, I later became addicted to the wrong messages, and listened to filth. Not just in music, but in life. My mind became polluted with Channel Zero! The nothing but garbage channel or as Flava Flav would say, "Ya blind baby, ya blind from the fact that you're watching that garbage!" In my case, watching and listening.
I am getting back to the music that promotes family in my maturing. I will bust out some Holy Hip-Hop, and even some old school secular Hip-Hop, but nothing vulgar or unfit for my five year to listen to.
Bill Withers is an artist that takes me back! My grandmother is alive and well, but his song "Grandma's Hands," takes me back and this song reminds me so much of my own Grandmama. It reminds me of my great-grandmother as well, and the last verse could apply to her. When I listen to Bill sing, it's like listening to a family member, a wise uncle.
Grandma's hands, clapped in church on Sunday morning,
Grandma's hands played a tambourine so well.
Grandma's hands used to issue out a warning,
She'd say, "Travvy don't you run so fast,
Might fall on a piece of glass,
Might be snakes there in that grass"
Grandma's hands
Grandma's hands soothed a local unwed mother
Grandma's hands used to ache sometimes and swell
Grandma's hands used to lift her face and tell her,
"Baby, Grandma understands
That you really love that man
Put yourself in Jesus hands"
Grandma's hands
Grandma's hands used to hand me piece of candy
Grandma's hands picked me up each time I fell
Grandma's hands Boy, they really came in handy
She'd say, "Travvy don' you whip that boy
What you want to spank him for?
He didn' drop no apple core"
But I don't have Grandma anymore
If I get to Heaven I'll look for Grandma's hands...
Man what happened to songs with good moral value, the one's that would lyrically and musically show you love, and the one's that taught you how to love!?
Music eases my soul to this day. My Grandmother as I stated before is alive and well, and anytime I hear Mahalia Jackson sing, I think of my grandmother.
The old R&B tunes remind me of how a man is suppose to love his family. I hear songs like "Sadie," or "Grandma's Hands," and I think of how my uncle's loved their mother, because she did what was best for them, and loved them no matter what was going on in their lives. She has shown us all the closest love that we could find next to the love of Christ.
My youngest uncle was killed 9 years ago this summer, and I can listen to Bluegrass and think of him. I can listen to Hip-Hop, and think of him, and I can hear someone sing, "What A Friend We Have In Jesus," and think of him. But the music reminds me of his love, his strength, his courage! The music helps to remind me, and gives me peace. The pill is tough to swallow at times, because physically he is away from me. But the music and the reminisce are sweet like candy.
My youngest uncle drove the imperfect Christian to Kingsport one day to look at a car, and on the way back through Minneapolis, the imperfect Christian rounded a curve at 55 mph that had a road sign in place that warned all drivers to reduce their speed to 35 mph. We boogied through the turn listening to Wrecks N Effect's "Rump Shaker." When we survived and came out of the turn, the imperfect Christians youngest uncle said in his best Teddy Riley voice, "Slow down cuzz, or we will go from 'Zoom-zoom, zooming, to (now puts on his Baptist choir voice) "What A Friend We Have In Jesus!" I thought he was going to be upset with my jammin' to the radio, and not paying attention, and he made a joke about it, and told me to slow down. Well there is my "Fall Back In Time Friday..." What tunes take you back?
