All Aboard the Sooooul Train!

When I began watching Soul Train I thought it was the coolest and the hippest show on television. Don Cornelius was one of the smoothest cats around with his rich velvety baritone voice. Of course the afro hairstyle he wore when the show debuted was just fly, and I was partial to this hairstyle anyway because for years I myself had worn one. I fashioned myself after one of my 70's era heroes...or should I say "sheroes"...Ms. Angela Davis. I was a fist pumping, afro wearing, "Power to the People" kind of a girl, whose everyday language was peppered with such colorful phrases as "solid", "cool cat", "hippest dude", and of course the most popular one that is still used today..."Right On!"

While I watched the different singing groups do their thing on Soul Train, and the Soul Train Dancers get their groove on, I got into the spirit of things by mimicing the dances and lip-syncing along with the singers with my trusty hairbrush for a makeshift microphone. I sang along with Gladys Knight & The Pips, Peaches & Herb, The Four Tops, Aretha Franklin and The Delfonics, and got all dreamy-eyed, hot and bothered by the rich soulfulness of Barry White just to name a few. 

I don't think there was a Black American group out there that did not perform on Soul Train at least once in their careers. It was a fabulous showcase for new artists and a marvelous venue for those that were established in the world of music and entertainment. It was not the easiest thing to do for a Black man to make his way in the entertainment world during the 1970's. But Don Cornelius did, and he made a success out of his show and left his mark after years of providing us with quality and fun and what will forever be one of the best musical variety shows on television.

This was not meant to be an ode to Don Cornelius, but just a simple remembrance of something that brought me joy and happiness for an hour on Saturdays amid my otherwise dull, lackluster and boring existence. Dancing can unlease a myriad of emotions in us, not the least of which is a freeing sort of sensuality. Dancing is a great tension reliever, and a creative means of communication. Whether it was the Hustle or  something made up from a mixture of older dances like The Jerk, The Swim, The Horse, or The Running Man (progressive eras in dance) just being able to cut loose to the beat and work up a sweat freed the mind and relaxed the body.

The Soul Train line lives on afterdecades of popularity at wedding receptions, cabarets, and other parties. The Soul Train line will get everybody out on the dance floor and no partner is required. I believe it will be immortal and will never lose its appeal or its effectiveness at bringing out the part animal in all of us. Nothing can compare to the rush of heading down the line showing off your moves and keeping perfect timing to the rhythm and the beat. I feel like I can get up and bust a move right now!

So the next time you're dreading that same old routine of vacuuming and dusting, just put on some Frankie Beverly & Maze, or some O'Jays and get your groove on! Put down that broom and fancy yourself strutting down the soul train line and then clap your hands, snap your fingers and stomp your feet. Let's get it o with Love...Peace...and Sooooul!

Rites of Passage

M

en are wonderful, magnificent and lovable creatures. They are our heroes, our hunter-gatherers, and our beasts of burden. They come in all shapes, sizes and personalities with individual physical traits and varying degrees of abilities and savvier fare.  We as women love our men. I love men. We love their sexiness, sensuality and all things provocative. And although they are much the same in these traits, they have a couple of others that may not be as endearing to us and it is an undeniable fact that they can do quite a bit of “jive talking” and “messin around”.

I was no stranger to the flirtatious overtures from other men. They would approach me anywhere; at work, while out shopping or pumping gas. They would act like they didn’t see my wedding band and diamond on my left hand, or they just chose to ignore it. Some would even comment on how they knew my husband was a happy man being married to all that, or that they knew I was sweet just because I smelt good, and occasionally someone would get really bold and say something like “baby I wanna treat you like a lollipop and lick you all over.” And then they would try to touch me…just trying to hold my hand or stroke my long hair…nothing to make me feel physically threatened.

The hopefully amorous dude would approach me walking with a “pimp” in his stride, while caressing and stroking his own beard or mustache, lean up against a wall or something and penetrating through an invisible wall of Canoe cologne, he would give me his best come-on spiel. One of my favorite jive talking lines was “Hey Brown Sugah…if you let me take you out not only will I rock yo world, but I will make you feel likes we was the only ones in it.” After having supposedly wooed me with this compliment, he would adjust his aviator sunglasses, hunch up his shoulders and give a hearty “sniff sniff’ while awaiting my inevitable swoon from being overcome with anticipation. If things got really exciting, one of his other women would come on the scene, and it was hilarious to watch him do some serious back pedaling!

 Now, please know that I misspelled some words for emphasis because I want you to picture how it went and how he sounded…you know …put you on the scene. Remember this was at a time when the men wore fancy jewelry (gold chains, bracelets, and rings) and very large hats. The 1970’s action movie “Superfly” starring Ron O’Neal inspired many a man to start wearing long colorful coats and sporting a walking cane just to add that little special touch to the image of a sharply dressed, jive talking, man of the world. I met a man just like this at a very vulnerable age and lost my tender heart to him.

My fascination with this man of the world nearly cost me my graduation during my senior year in high school. He was of course older, and not exactly an upstanding citizen, and I was your typical “goody two shoes” who was drawn to a “bad boy” like a magnet. Needless to say, I had a serious Love Jones for him and because I did everything I could do to get his attention, I subsequently got myself into a boatload of trouble on more than one occasion. But in my seventeen year old mind it was like totally worth it; sort of like going through days of torture for about four hours a week with him. Doesn’t that sound absolutely pathetic? Thankfully I can laugh about my escapades now, but at the time my heart was on my sleeve and I was wearing it for him.

I call these events in life rites of passage. There are some things we just have to experience first hand, and we have to have some things in our past to look back on and have a great big laugh over, and to share with our friends as we stroll mentally back in time. And actually, these events are terrific learning tools, for if we didn’t live through them and go through the pain and heartache, fall in and out of love a zillion times; what would we talk about in our golden years?

My Mother was a great parent in that she kept our clothes immaculate, kept a spotless house, and cooked delicious meals. She was a wonderful woman and I loved her dearly (still do), but she didn’t teach me about life. She was a product of her generation and at this time in my life when I needed to know about personal things, and about boys and about “feelings” I could not openly talk to her. Most of the stuff I needed to know as a young girl coming into womanhood I learned from other people. But she had her tender moments with me, and I have never felt unloved because she didn’t talk to me about “the birds and the bees”.

We all grow up in different ways and in different stages of development. Parenting methods have always been a mix of doing what we think is best, driven by our gut instincts, a lot of prayer, trial and error guesswork. So there were other things I learned from her that were valuable and important and they shaped me and gave me values that could have come from no one else but her. I still live by these values and will treasure her memory always.

Rites of passage and family traditions can instill and nurture us through our lives and keep us on the right paths. Without them we would be lost and with them we are so much the better for it.