The musings of a madman...

On today’s date in April of 1937, an ironically middle-named William December Williams Jr and his twin sister were born in New York City… This raises, I know, two questions… DAMN, he’s 74 years old?! and … middle name DECEMBER?! Anyway, the guy with the matching first and last names and a middle name after a month in which he was not born was birthed entered the world today. Known to black women of the world because now they all wanted their babies to have “good hair.” Known to the nerds of the world as the only black guy in The Empire Strikes Back. Known apparently to the guild for his longevity and versatility, having done comedy, drama, dramady, voice work, television AND movie (and music!) down through the years. 1959-now, to be exact. Last I heard of him doing was himself in an especially hilarious Boondocks episode and in a Cleveland Show episode that I do not recall off the top of my head. You know? As I type this post, I am thankful that mothers in the 70s and 80s had the good

Here I am, 2 months and 26 (as this post goes live) days short of the release of the new Transformer’s movie my 32st birthday, and I didn’t know what the T in Booker T Washington stood for… But today, we celebrate his date of birth, which took place in 1856. An educator by ironic trade, given when and where he was born his family was granted freedom at the close of the civil war and he was given a good edumacation himself at Hampton Institute (now Hampton University) and Wayland Seminary (now Virginia Union). He would go on to lead the Tuskegee Institute, the first one to do so and the only one to do so in the 25 yeas between his taking the position and his death. An as-described “dominant” leader of the black American community – which the last 3-4 generations, including my own and those after me has lacked for some time now – he was charismatic enough to speak to a slowly-converting southern white population to allow blacks paid working positions. Rubbing elbows with the wealthi

I know I mentioned being rife to use the same topic – or person – in consecutive days, but this is one that was very necessary… I mean, I COULD have gone on about Muddy Waters or Maya Angelou’s birthdays, but I am pretty sure that if either of them were still alive today, they would rather I discuss this instead. [Phlip note – I know Maya Angelou is still alive and actually lives in the next county over from me, allow me to make my jokes in peace] Anyway… As alluded to in his speech the night before, it seemed that Dr. King – not too dissimilar to ‘Pac and Biggie – spoke of his demise as if it were imminent. Yes, I just compared Dr. King, a real martyr to two rappers whose behaviors may have had a hand in their own deaths. As it were, the initial plans - changed at the 11th hour according to this bust at the end of the street named in his honor here in town – were that Dr. King was to come to Greensboro and speak at Trinity AME Zion Church in its former location on Preddy Blvd. (no

On today's date in 1968 on the day before being assassinated, MLK delivered what would be one of his most famous speeches . Fun history fact is that he almost didn't GIVE that speech... He was originally to come to Greensboro, NC and speak at a church that happens to be across the street from my best friend's house after moving some years ago, but changed his plans late in the proceedings. It seemed that he knew his time was near, though, as referenced toward the end of his speech, in the most memorable passage, with… “And then I got to Memphis. And some began to say the threats, or talk about the threats that were out. What would happen to me from some of our sick white brothers? Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't really matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live - a long life; longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about

The date was April 2, 1984… The location was Seattle Washington’s King Dome. Participants were the feared-for-starting-5-black-guys (something still unheard of at the time) Georgetown Hoyas and the Phi Slamma Jamma-featured University of Houston Cougars. So yes, featuring several future Hall-of-Fame players with brown skin, this game was big because of Big John Thompson’s being a black coach to lead a black starting lineup from a private school that at the time might not have otherwise recruited them up against a bigger public school in the NCAA tournament. As we look back on this compared to the outcome of this or recent years’ tournaments, it is clearly representative of a time that the parity that they PRETEND the tournament has today was actually present. While the longshorts era has ushered in a time where the whitest of whitebread schools doesn’t feel so out of place starting 5 black dudes, in the Reagan era, it was quite the taboo for there to be 5 dudes on the whole of the camp

Warning, reblog to come for this one... I am gonna focus on the day at hand now for what it is and what I can relate it to. Thinking back to Summer 2003, following the Epic Battle of Godzilla and Mothra , and a couple weeks in the hospital, then a couple more in the house, I chanced venturing out to do my normal things... One of them, naturally would be to set about the task of getting my considerably long dreadlocks washed, because damned if I will wash it myself, even without a broken right shoulder, which I was sporting at the time. Anyway... The homie/then-coworker Tairi was also in the shop (we go to the same lady for this function) and had been there a short while before me. We shot the shit a few minutes, as we often did, what with being on the same team at work (when I was not on leave) and of similar age and general interests and such, compared to the bevy of single black women doing the stereotypical single black woman cackle around us. We no-homeaux needed one an

March 31, 1917… Before this date, what is NOW called the US Virgin Islands was known as the Danish West Indies. The cost of the purchase was 25 million dollars, which I REALLY hope you might have gathered from the title of this post. “but Phlip, what in the blue hell does this have to do with black history?” you ask? If you know anything about the West Indies, you know that is where the slaves were transported to (or through) when the US was making attempts to deter slave owners from importing them (link from my own archive, that). With that in mind, a great many of the black folks settled on the French (Haiti), Dutch (what we’re talking about now, among others) and mostly Spanish-controlled Caribbean nations. With that said, the white folks went to where they could own slaves or back home and the black folks became the majorities. With that in mind, the US Virgin Islands being a US Territory inhabited by brown people, this becomes a black history fact. Now, I look at the de

March 30, 1962 marks the date of birth of one Stanley Kirk Burrell, a rapper who could be heralded using the right language as the best rapper ever invented… How, you ask? Well, if Jay-Z, and then Lil Wayne laid claims to being the “best rapper alive” based upon their popularity and sales figures, BOTH would be served a cold hard lesson when it is explained that NEITHER had an album remain #1 for 21 solid weeks or had an album go diamond – even approaching DOUBLE diamond with over 18 million sold to date. Yes, the album marked the beginning of the end the first time hip hop started to die on us, what with the heavyhanded sample usages and poppy simple lyrics and dancing and shit, all of which made way for a certain Robert Van Winkle to step in and play Elvis to Hammer’s Chuck Berry. [ Phlip note – yeah, I said it!] Any old ways…. Today marks the date that Hammer was born into the world, and you can take that how you want – positive or otherwise. While you can chide him for t

On today’s date, in 1955 – 24 years, 3 months and 3 days prior to allowing myself and my twin to escape from her uterus – my mother was born. I thank my grandparents for that. Unfortunately, however, in the greater interest of continued black history, my mom is not famous, so I could only offer to put her BEFORE today’s topic of conversation… Today is the balding dude who wears the crazy suits on NBA TV and TNT for Knicks games, NBA Hall-of-Famer and wearer of #10 way back when the Knickerbockers were still a credible threat to win anything of substance… Walter “Clyde” Frazier was a 6’4” point guard with shooting guard tendencies as a scorer. While Willis Reed is heralded for inspiration in his limping back onto the court in game 7 of the 1970 NBA finals, the hero of the day was Frazier with his 36 points and 19 assists. His jersey hangs in the rafters of Madison Square Garden, evidence of why the current Knicks have so few available jersey numbers to choose f

^^^ Let the record show that I do not know that to be true, for the record... Anyway… On today’s date in 1990, President George Bush (Bush41, not Bush43) granted Olympic sprinter and pack-a-day smoker Jesse Owens a posthumous Congressional Gold Medal, which is synonymous with the Presidential Medal of Freedom as the highest civilian honor one can receive in the United States. Slightly off the point here is that, while the President ANNOUNCES and gives the Congressional Medal of Freedom, the actual granting of it is born of acts of congress, and both houses are required to put it through. With that said, George H. W. Bush might have delivered the medal – to Owens’ FAMILY, I might infer – he was just the messenger in such. The Congressional Gold Medal is given for outstanding accomplishment in the name of the US, and I am willing to bet that Owens’ showing up Hitler at the Berlin Olympics despite the irony of being a sprinter who smoked a pack of cigarettes a day for 35 years wa