Black History Month.
Ambitious am I.
Now I remember why today's post just didn't feel right. It came to me when I walked past the copy of USA Philatelic on the stair rail just now. Today is the first day of Black History Month. So, to mark day one, I had to write another post. I forgot to buy this stamp dedicated to Mrs. Rosa Parks whose courage helped light the spark that boosted a movement, and bumped a nation into historical grace.
I'd say more but I have to pull out my drawing stuff and get busy. Dr. King had a dream and Rosa helped make it so. When I was just a girl I didn't understand what was happening as I watched history unfold on tv. I remember asking my mother why that man, meaning Dr. King, was getting people killed. I don't remember what she told me, but I remember this: My mother sat on the arm of the sofa. A clear signal that something major was going on, since that was forbidden. But. She also turned and gave me her full attention. Afraid that I'd said something bad, I turned way, unable to make eye contact. She answered me. I just don't recall what she said. After she'd had her brief say, we both turned back to the tv, and Walter Cronkite.
I thought I would post about watching the NAACP Awards. For the first time. I witnessed Harry Belafonte and Sidney Poitier on the same stage, representing historical firsts. I thought, "Oh, my goodness, how they have aged." Then it came to me that I have too. And, I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD THE "DAY O SONG!" I always thought singers were saying, "Daygo! Day-ay-ay-go. Daylight gone and I wanna go home." I like that song. It speaks to hard work and little pay for a full day. Hence, day go!
Well, I caught the tail end of the awards. Wish I could have missed Jamie Fox's nightmare of an ending, but I enjoyed the guy from Haiti, whose name escapes me at the moment, but Common made me uncommonly eager to be his gal pal. Well, why lie? I am not a fan of rap, although I have songs that have a little bit of rhyming. But still and all, if I could have my way, I'd have Beyonce curves everyday, like Kellog Corn flakes. Here I am again. This was meant to be respectful. And so it is. It's Black History Month. It happens to be celebrated during the month that celebrates Love. What else can I say?
Write on. Celebrate the month. We shall be free.