35 years ago my not-yet roommate was belting a song on our college quad about a guy who died in a South African prison. “Who sings about stuff like that?” I wondered.
Peter Gabriel sings about stuff like that.
On that same quad, someone’s radio was playing a boppin’ song from a British band and to this day I remember my introduction to Sting as he sang with his band The Police.
Sting also sings politically charged songs. Peter Gabriel also sings boppin’ songs. They’re on tour together and I got to witness their synthesis last night at The Palace.
“Buckingham Palace?” my cousin Keith joked via text. No, although they’re both British, this was at The Palace of Auburn Hills, Michigan.
My life-partner left me seven years ago this month. It’s been a difficult time since the breakup, to say the least. Severe health issues and two or three jobs later, I still miss our connection.
We were good together. Sure, we had our quarrels. They were understandable given the passion, the love. But we experienced a whole lot together, traveled to incredible places and were invited to witness the entire gamut of the human condition from the slums of Port au Prince, Haiti, to the opulent mansions and castles of the world’s richest elites.
We spent time with presidential candidates, toured prisons and flew in balloons & helicopters together. It was a great relationship.
But then it ended; I got dumped.
Thank God my brother was working from home when the umpteenth butthole with a gun this year walked into Dean’s usual place of work and shot someone, then killed himself. That was the other day at UCLA. By the time you read this, another gun tragedy (or twenty) will have taken place, guaranteed.
My mom was shaking when she heard the news. So was my brother. So was my friend whose son studies on campus and passes that building every day.
The early reviews are in!
So far, Hope’s Diamond is a hit.
HOPE COMES TO DETROIT
Detroit is a town in need of Hope, and in Rodney Curtis’ world, Hope comes in the form of Baseball. If you love Detroit, Baseball and Hope, you will enjoy this delightful little book.
My grandfather used to say that before 1916, the world was ruthless. My grandmother, Ruth Harris Adams, was born in 1916. If the world was ruthless before that date, I can only guess that afterwards it was ruthmore, ruthful? Ol’ granddad passed on before completing his silly pun. Grandma Ruth lives on.
My grandmother turns 100 this month. Here’s a look back at her first century on this planet.
After three non-fiction books, his first novel.