My father, may he rest in peace, was one of the coolest cats to ever walk the planet. I’m not stating this as opinion but as stone cold fact. He could play guitar, keyboard, sing and write songs like nobody’s business. During one of the African-American festivals held downtown back in the mid-90’s, the band couldn’t make it. A group of local musicians including my dad and I think Mr Seitu “Mr. K” Kenyatta were there to move the crowd. My memory’s pretty messed up these days, but I think this was all just a spur of the moment thing with everybody bringing their gear to the courhouse and not just being the back-up band. And there’s dad right in the newspaper. I pretty much have the same smile on my face typing this out as he has in that photo. Happy Fathers’ Day, Dad.
A dream of extraordinary magnitude
June 17th, 2007