I was working on a review of Patti Labelle’s long-awaited Milwaukee show in my mind even as I was driving to the Riverside Theater Saturday night.
I had only seen ‘Princess Patti’ in person once before, two decades ago. Still, memories of her exhilarating performance was renewed every time I heard one of her gold or platinum awarded songs on the radio, any number of CDs, LPs, and cassettes I continue to own (even if I don’t have the appropriate player).
When my wife and I attended her performance at Disney World in 1991, it was during that theme park’s anniversary celebration. Fortunately, the celebration coincided with the release of her sensational LP, ‘Burnin’.
The theme park was closed to the public, and the assembled media had its choice of three stage performances to attend at the conclusion of the celebration.
I don’t know who the other performers were—country western and rock—but I vividly recalled that all African Americans (and other folks with good taste) were assembled within a stone’s throw of the Patti stage.
We were greeted with one of the best performances of my long life.
In fact, one recollection that has transcended time was her hitting a note at the conclusion of a song, leaving the stage with the microphone in hand, continuing to hold that note as she changed clothes, shoes, drank a soda, and finished writing her recipe for sweet potato pie. She then returned to the stage as if nothing had happened.
Phenomenal doesn’t fully describe it.
That night the sexy songstress hit notes that shook my ancestors in Sierra Leone and Kemet.
Patti’s range, stage gyrations, and emotive interpretations put her in a class all by herself.
So, take that reminiscence as my Saturday review because, as you probably heard, Patti’s show was terminated after three short songs because some forked-tongued fool called in a fictitious bomb threat.
Excuse my French, but damn!
One of the greatest singers of our time, defying time and evolving (or maybe that should be ‘de-evolving’) musical tastes, the 78 (couldn’t convince any who saw her dancing across the stage with a dip in her hip and glide in her stride of her age), it was apparent Patti had lost nothing over the years.
Speaking of loss, I would have no problem if one of the pyramids built by the pharaohs fell down on the scum bag who called in the threat.
People traveled from Illinois and Indiana for the show which—we assumed—may be her last performance in the Midwest.
I had planned on attending since first hearing of the show last summer. And then some fool—bastard, turd, punk, or punkette—destroyed it for all of us.
Or should we be glad it was a false alarm? Or appreciative that the thug or ‘thugette’ opened our eyes to a new reality: that we are not safe anywhere these days.
I mistakenly assumed there were some places we could still go to without fear of some young terrorist or gangsta wanna-be putting those of us who opened doors and fought for their freedom putting our lives in jeopardy.
And that’s of particular interest to us seniors and elders.
Hey, first they took away our ‘watering places’ (bars)—even jazz venues and old-school joints—by shooting-up respectable establishments or, in confrontations, outside the clubs.
For that reason, most seniors and wise middle-aged folks stopped going to ‘bars.’
And then these gangstas and thugs (‘thugettes’) showed up at schools, Bucks games, and even churches (‘churches’ for cryin’-out-loud!).
And now concerts that draw folk of my era. We’re not talking about gangsta rap by the likes of ‘Two Quarters,’ or ‘Snoop Doggy Dud,’ but old-school R&B.
Isn’t any old-school R&B event sacred anymore?
Has this city, which is losing residents as we break homicide records yearly, gone the way of East St. Louis or (parish the thought) Gary?
That was a rhetorical question because you know the answer. We’ve become Syria, Ukraine, or Burleigh Street after 10 p.m.
The last few years have witnessed a cultural transformation in America. Unfortunately, not for the better.
The COVID-19 pandemic played a role in this new negative social paradigm.
But you can’t put all of the blame on the anxiety and depression that grew from that poisonous tree—or ‘weed.’
In fact, you can place some of the blame on weed…and cocaine…and alcohol. Sugar and lead (as in lead paint and lead-lined water pipes) also contribute.
Add to those chemicals stress from unemployment, deterioration of values and mores, and even partisan politics.
And, as was noted on these pages recently, the abysmal state of education locks a generation out of the success equation and fuels dysfunctional families. It steers many of our tribe into the ‘Culture of Poverty.’ You have a diagnosis (as the television title) for murder.
Put some blame on the media, or at least social media.
The murder rate in Milwaukee is at an all-time high. One of the latest sensationalistic murders was committed by an impressionable 10-year-old boy who killed his mother over a video game.
The end result is a community where no one feels safe, as terrorism,stupidity, and PTSD run rampant.
There are no more innocent bystanders, only collateral damage.
I do 96% of my grocery shopping at Pick n’ Save because that storeis the only local grocery that markets to the Black community. Theothers have intentionally built outside the community, almost as if theyare afraid of Black people or don’t want us to utilize their facilities forfear we bring herpes or COVID-19 to their establishments.
Recently, however, I took my mother-in-law to Woodman’s becausethat ’employee-owned’ establishment carries a more extensive assortment of greens.
I was shocked to be greeted at the store just south of Brown Deerby armed guards. Vested and in black.
They rotated from what appeared to be an armored vehicle. Whatmessage is the grocery owners sending?
I almost expect guards and security since there have been reports ofchickens being freed and running north to freedom. But those men inblack fatigues, armed and wearing vests, were not hunters.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to the Menomonee Falls Marcus Theater (on senior day—can’t afford it otherwise). Again, armed security.Does the movie chain have armed guards at its other suburban theaters? That, too, is a rhetorical question.)
Public schools have metal detectors. Malls have machine guntowers, and Black Wauwatosa cops who will shoot you down.
I know of several large Black churches where the ushers carry morethan bibles.
Pretty soon, even the police will have armed security.
Let’s face it: this is the new norm.
So, I shouldn’t have been shocked that there was a bomb threat at a Patti LaBelle concert.
In fact, even though I stood outside with hundreds of fans hopingagainst hope the police, who had blocked off Wisconsin Avenue, wouldannounce it was safe to return, allowing us to partake of one of thefew venues left to Black seniors. I should have remembered one of hertop ten songs: ‘I gotta new attitude.” Yeah, we hard working, law abiding, tax paying citizens (and seniors) gotta get one too.
Hotep
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