Merry Christmas My Dear Ones,
♫ May your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmases be white ♫.
Funny. Not funny ha-ha, funny peculiar. How those lyrics take on a whole new meaning in this tip-toe careful, ever so careful time in which we live. Irving Berlin wouldn’t have written that song now unless an accompanying video was a chorus line of Klanners in full Klan attire, with choreographed kicks and arm moves, dancing a la “Springtime for Hitler” style, like in the movie The Producers. Dancing to “White Xmas”, spelled with a big X. Ludicrous. Truer than strange, stranger than true, a songwriter today wouldn’t have, couldn’t have, would never have written that song, would have self-censored herself from writing that song. It’s okay being that Frank and Nat, they’re not around to do it anyway. The record executive would exclaim “White Christmas? We can’t have a racist Christmas song on this label!”
Anyway, what has this to do with Christmas? Brotherhood, sisterhood, mankind and their mothers...yeah, oh yeah.
This last “get my feet wet and back” was an uplifting few shows. I’m ready for the new year. New York City in January. If you’re working in January, you’re doing well! I’m hoping this year more people of color, colored people come to my shows. Odd, Jimi Hendrix didn’t exactly have a Rainbow Race audience either. Funny, huh? Not funny ha-ha, funny peculiar. Colored people. I like “colored people”. Black is too inaccurate. And for that matter, African American is too. Many people of color were rooted in various and sundry places. Colored is pretty. Whereas white, hmmm, I’m not not white or caucasian. Caucasian is not pretty, it’s not a pretty word. I’m flesh, but flesh has been removed from the 100 Crayola packet. I’m lost in my color identity. White is frightening. “A face just first as ghostly, turned a whiter shade of pale.” A shame. Not colored, not white. Always wanted to call my album “Passing for White”. That wouldn’t cut it if I were colored. But, until something better comes along, white.
♫ So may your days be merry, not duller...and may all your Christmases be colored. ♫
It has to do with intention. Careful is motivated by, even if it’s ever so slight, by fear. Not-so-careful is in the realms of children, kindness, tolerance, acceptance, good will toward all. It’s in the domain of the heart. This year, I’m dreaming we get passed the silly stuff. Resist getting hearded. Rise above mainstream media. Most definitely, a hurting mechanism. Divisive, and I might go as far as to say, breeders of hate and chaos. Along too, in the powers-that-be mix...not Democrats, not Republicans, but I’m talking about the real Powers that Be-eeee-eeee. I hope they’re not reading this. Powers that Be, don’t sign up for my newsletter. I don’t want your phucking email addresses either, or I might never get signed to a major label. I only need you My Dear Ones, the more the merrier. Merry, it’s a great word. Don’t get to use it but once a year, mostly. Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas. Not spelled with an X...never spelled with an X. Love (and that is where it comes from), love in the new year, peace on earth, goodwill to mankind, sisters, brothers, white and colors, mankind and their mothers, oh yeah, oh yeah. It’s a song. I’ll sing it for you sometime.
Love and happiness in 2015,