Cuz I'm BLACK, Y'all!

Happy Black Music Month!
For those living under a cock for the past few, each June we celebrate the unique musical talent, creativity, and achievements of Black artists.

And, iffin' I get the time away from not doing a dayum thing but working and blowing trees like a cool summer breeze, I shall commemorate the month by posting my musical memories because music is such a big part of who I am.
For anybody who's ever stepped foot in @ChateauSAV you know I always got something pumpin'.

As an only child for a long while, music was one of my first friends.

As a hard-as-nails azz adult who wouldn't show my feelings for SHIT: Music's been my confidant.

When I'm on one doing some shit I probably shouldn't be, music is my accomplice.

And since I'd cease to exist without it running through my veins:
Music's
my
DRUG.

*********

Some of my earliest memories have to do with music.
Will you ever forget where you were when you first heard, "We Are The World?"
I won't; bangs blowing in the wind as I sat shotgun in MamaSAV's hatchback Tercel listening to the varying voices singing for one common cause.

How when Cyndi Lauper's part dropped, I got HYPED to the 10th power to save Ethiopian lives like my lil' 5 year old azz could do it alone.

"Well. WELL. WELL. WEELLLLLL..."
Or whatever she's saingin' that had me looking for change and chips and M&Ms in my mama's couch to send to USA for Africa.

Oh! And don't tell me I went to the ONLY school in America where we performed not 1; not 2, but 3 LIVE ON STAGE! performances of this classic for the entire faculty and student body of Kennedy Elementary to behold.
Man! If we didn't take that shit type-SERIOUSLY!
We had practice for WEEKS prior to our performances and by the time showtime rolled around, we were READAY. We rocked that shit like newborn babies, yo. I'm TELLING YOU!

YO! I'd be lying to say I wasn't looking for a 2nd grader to run up, all jumpy-jumpy, asking for my autograph and shit. I swayed back and forth, earnestly, in the name of ending world hunger, mayne. Those hand claps through Ray Charles's ad-libs were NOT for NAUGHT. SOMEBODY needed my scribble-scrabble on their lunch box, yo.

*******

But yeah, that's how it's going down this June, SavvyFAT'liens.
Hope to see you back here looking into my life to sing what I siiinnnngg. La-da-da-da-daaaaaaaaa...