Goodbye, Mr. Brown

I just found out that James Brown died early Christmas morning. This fills me with melancholy. While it is true that I never owned any of his music, there are numerous other musical legends whose music I love, yet do not own. I don't feel that this diminishes my love for his music. Besides, at one time I shared my home with a teenage stepson who discovered soul, R & B, and funk at the age of 17 and regularly played James Brown and Al Green at floor-shaking and joyful volumes. James Brown's jumped-up singing always filled me with an itch to move and dance, and planted a big happy smile on my face. Now I almost feel as if I've done James wrong by not listening to his music more often, and by my own volition. I'm also reminded of the bitter fact that he performed here this past fall, and that I had seriously considered going to the concert, but didn't. The tickets were expensive, and although I kept telling myself that this could be my last chance to see him, and I should just go, I did not. It's disconcerting to be correct about something like that. I'd much rather have been wrong. I'm not going to launch into a long treatise of how influential a man he was in both music and the civil rights movement--there are hundreds of others doing that across the country right now. Go find one of their articles and read it. He was a fascinating man, and his energy was boundless and inspiring.

On a weirder note, I am really upset that once again, the demise of an ex-president has overshadowed the death of a pivotal black musician. Please recall that in 2004, Reagan's death predated that of Ray Charles by 6 days and completely obliterated much of the attention and accolades that I felt Ray deserved. I was particularly angry about the situation because I felt that Reagan had done a lot of harm to the world, whereas Mr. Charles had done much to relieve it. It just wasn't fair. And now, although I bear no grudges toward Mr. Ford, his death the day after James Brown's has again stolen the spotlight. I beg all surviving presidents to stop dying before they kill off all of our talented soul and blues singers!

Here are some ominous facts that I discovered: Both Ray Charles and James Brown were 73 years old at the time of their deaths. Reagan and Ford were both 93 when they died. Eerie. I think we can remedy this morbid phenomenon by making sure that the three living ex-presidents are kept scrupulously healthy during their 92nd and 93rd years--maybe if we keep them alive til they are 94 no more 73 year-old musicians will die. Let us hope.

Goodbye, James Brown. You are missed.