DEATH OF THE DOVE - a Poem by Antonio Cassone

An Open Letter to My Mom on Her 78th Birthday

Dear Mom,

Happy birthday, Mom.  Here we are at the dawning of another September 4^th, as you would have been 78 years old, if you were still ‘alive’ – though I still feel your presence here now more than ever.  Next March will mark the 20^th year since your passing and this upcoming October will be 23 years since Dad passed away.  I marvel at how much time has gone by, yet sometimes it seems as though we were talking just yesterday.  People say it gets easier with the passing of time, yet I tend to think that notion is just to make one feel better.  Losing loved one’s sucks and the older I get; the more people pass on and with much more frequency it seems.  Especially in this day of social media.  I know you don’t know too much about that, or maybe you do.  Well, with it, one seems to find out about even more passing’s – sometimes daily.  So, you can tend to feel like you are in a constant grieving period.

I am sure you know Mike passed away last August.  I hadn’t realized losing a sibling would be so hard, but it is.  The difficulty lies in the guilt I feel that he and I weren’t closer than maybe we could have been, and the sadness remains that I am not that close with my remaining siblings.  I love them, I think they know that I love them, but because of my own life issues – especially in recent years – I just keep them at an arm’s length distance.  It is safer – for me.  Besides when I bring you up to my sister all she does is criticize you.  After all these years, she won’t let you rest in peace and as smart as she is; the more she lashes out AT me ABOUT you, the further I want to run away from her.  Dan, on the other hand, I love and respect and feel like he and I are alike more so regarding needing space simply because we are hardworking people.  I have always felt closest to him.  As for your grandkids, oh my goodness, you would be so very proud of both of them and all they have accomplished.

You see, I have lost a lot of people.  I take care of them, nurture, nurse… you know, that is me. The caregiver.  Since I moved down to Florida twelve years ago, I had two roommates, Walter and Doug, who I cared for through their lengthy illnesses and saw them pass away.  Walter was sad enough, but Doug – I didn’t see it coming.  Even though he was in such declining health for so long, he was still making plans.  Daily he would run through a seeming, endless litany of things he still wanted to do, places he wanted to go, visits to his daughter and her family, seeing his granddaughter grow up.  Even up to the night before he died.

I had worked a ridiculously long day that day.  Looking back, I have noted it was my longest shift ever at my ‘day’ job. Anyway, I had put in a near 15-hour day.  I kept up with Doug throughout that day, per usual, checking on him via phone calls and text messages. He had a scheduled doctor’s appointment the next day and he called me around 9:30pm to tell me to not be mad, but he was gonna go ahead and take his shower and he would call me after he was done and settled.  One of our rules/agreements through his health dip was that I or one of his health aides were to be there any time he showered.  I hesitantly agreed and stressed for an hour and a half before he called me back to tell me he was all done.  Fresh and clean as a whistle, he laughingly reported.  We quipped and joked as we normally had, and he was to order himself some dinner for delivery.

By the time I got home just before midnight, I was surely exhausted.  Doug was in the middle of his seemingly realized very late dinner and was chatty.  I just sat at the dining room table sort of in a stupor, knowing I had to be up in just a handful of hours to do it all over again.  Between Doug’s chatter and our crazy cat, Sam, meowing his head off, I just smiled and nodded.  Normally, when I would work these crazy hours, I still tried to take the time to sit with Doug on the patio and chit chat over a cocktail.  I couldn’t do it that night, but I wish I had.

In a profound move, after Doug had been talking for a bit to my ever-growing silence, he wheeled himself half way out of his bedroom.  He just kinda hung there – halfway in the doorway to the living/dining room area yet remaining partly in his bedroom.  It occurred to me that he stopped talking and interrupted his very late dinner to check on me.  Once he saw that I was too tired, and we weren’t going to go on the patio for our nightly kiki, which I think he figured that since he had already closed the patio blinds for the night, he started on that daily litany of things he still wanted to do.  Only this time, among the getting back to driving again, visiting his family, going to hang out with his bar buddies – he abruptly said, “Well, meh…” stopped; long staring at the unopened blinds – and wheeled himself back in to his room, almost defeated.  The abrupt ending was my cue to head to bed for the night.  I told him good night and went to retire to my room.  As I laid in bed, I realized I didn’t tell him ‘I love you’ as I normally did.  Now, settled in to my bed, I was too tired to get back up.

The next morning, it was a scurry as I rushed to get ready for my ride to pick me up.  My good friend, Val, an angel on earth who I swear you sent to me to help me get through life – along with Pam, Albert, Anya, Keronce, Diva, John, Cat and Judy, any queen that ever gave me a gig, a handful of coworkers and prayer warriors like Gladys and Kaiwana – the angels on earth in my life are countless – praise God.  Anyway, Doug happened to be up and was doing his normal morning routine, as he had that doctor’s appointment later that day, we quipped and joked like two Judy’s – per usual.  As I hurried out the door, I said, ‘see you later’ and while rushing to the car, I realized (in passing) that again, I didn’t say ‘I love you.’

Work was all a fluster, issue after issue was hitting me harder than usual that day.  In hindsight, it was almost as though the stars were aligned to have me be very busy and very distracted.  I was so frantic that my coworker, Felicia, could see it in my face I was uber stressed and she treated me to lunch that day.  Something she had never done before, but I was glad she did, and little did I know at the time that was more of a spiritual gesture.  A prayer warrior herself, I later recognized that as a spirit to spirit connection.  It was like God was guiding someone to get me the nourishment to get me through the rest of a very long day.  

Twice along the way that day, I thought to call and check on Doug – per usual, but got distracted and kept reminding myself he had that doctor’s appointment and we would catch up later.  Mom, it never happened.  I was on a crisis call with a vendor, when at 3:00pm my cell phone rang.  Once I saw it was Doug’s daughter on the caller ID, my heart sank.  I quickly ended the call with the vendor on my work phone and picked up my cell phone.  She told me with fierce and sudden fashion, that the transportation for his doctor’s office had picked him up, he coded and died suddenly in transit to the doctor’s appointment.

I just flung the cell phone across my desk and howled.  I was crying uncontrollably – and according to co-workers – quite loudly.  I couldn’t contain myself for several minutes.  It was a shock to my universe.  I cried so hard, I hollered.  It was a deep, guttural soul cry.  I was inconsolable.  It is the sound you never forget, and I am always surprised when I realize it is coming from me.  There have only been three other times in life I have made such a sound and that was when I lost you and our dear friend, Ramona and when I realized someone I really, really loved was never going to love me back in the same way.  I remember, Rosa, my office mate’s look on her face, like “Damn.” That just happened?  Not realizing all the while, his poor daughter heard all of it and was patiently waiting for me to pick the phone up.  I had to get out of there.

I wanted to get home; quick, fast and in a hurry and thankfully my co-worker Catherine got me there.  The first thing I noticed when I got home was how calm Sam, the cat, was.  All the week before, he was hounding Doug, constantly up under him and kept trying to get our attention in many ways, unlike before.  He even once got up in the bed with Doug and got in his face, meowing frantically and the poor dear feline got his tail run over by Doug’s wheelchair because he was following him so closely.  And now he was normal just like that *snaps fingers* – it freaked me out.  That cat had to find another home, Mom.  Anyway, I settled myself and called his daughter back and then it was all about planning for life after Doug,

Here today, gone today.

Losing Doug is right up there with you, Dad, Googles and Mike.  He was like a second father to me, I now know and realize.  He knew it too.  We only knew each other a handful of years.  When I first moved in with him, he was on a cane, then the walker, then the wheelchair.  I took care of him because he took me in and helped me, like so many others.  I slowly witnessed his social circle dwindle the sicker he got.  I got to the point where I couldn’t see leaving the situation.  I left Walter a week before he went in to a nursing home, only because his frantic lover drove me out and lied to and about me to his sister or lied to me about his sister – that situation got so effed up that I thought the lover was plotting my death at one point, so I HAD to leave.  But when it came to Doug, no way.  I was in it for the long haul.  Despite all his health issues, we laughed more than we cried.  He was a sweet, funny, vibrant and loving friend.  I am all about duty and trying to do right by people – it was how you raised me, and Lord knows I had a lot of practice by taking care of you.

My faith tells me that you already know about all of this and all that happened before this and since.  I would like to think you and Mike have reconciled and both of you have met Doug, and Walter, all the many others who have passed away since my last letter to you nine years ago.  I share it with you because you, of all the people ever to know me in life know that writing, creating, even doing my drag shows, my photography – all of it – is my therapy.  Keronce, of all people, gets on me all the time to get to it.  I am not living.  I am no longer utilizing my God-given talents, like I was put on this earth to do and he wants to know why. I am afraid to live. I am afraid to be happy, because I don’t know what true happiness looks like, Mom.  That is one of the reasons why.

*****

Austin called me out of the blue last week to ‘check on me.’  Yes, my second ex from way, way back when I thought having a lover in life was a possibility.  He and other friends have been concerned because I have been distant, I haven’t been sociable in a while.  The fact that I haven’t done a show in almost a year and a half shocks them.  I no longer conform and sit and chit chat about this or that.  I live alone now.  I have given away or trashed most – and I do mean most - of my earthly possessions.  I seem depressed.  Even suicidal.

I have thought, Mom, that I may be seeing you again sooner rather than later and no, I am not suicidal.  Though, I do realize why some may think that about me because I have drastically changed in recent years.  That is because so much LIFE has been happening, but Austin is right and so is Keronce, I haven’t been truly living it fully for awhile.

That is for sure, Mom.  You see, as a caregiver and even though I know people die, I felt a lot of guilt after Doug’s passing.  Even though everybody says I did all I could, even he touted about how I went above and beyond a mere ‘roommate,’ even friend.  I felt I should have done more.  I shouldn’t have worked so much, though I was doing that for the both of us and in case I would have to take over the bills if he had to go to a nursing home or rehab facility.  That all came to pass, and I had to take over any way, but it wasn’t what I ever imagined and not when I thought it would happen either.

I look back on that night before and hindsight reveals itself clearer in its reflection.  When Doug was going through his nightly litany and abruptly stopped, he was looking out and over at the closed blinds to the patio.  It was as though he was looking out in to eternity though, thinking back.  I wonder did he have an inkling.  Did he know?  That cat knew, that is for certain. 

Doug’s daughter helped me find a new home for Sam, the cat.  It was one of Doug’s bartender friends.  He generously came to get Sam the week after Doug passed away and he, himself suddenly passed away three weeks later.  I never really knew what happened to the cat and it is one of the biggest regrets I have had in life.  I should have done better. Of course, my better sense tells me that I didn’t know that guy was gonna die, but he did.

I miss Doug and his friendship terribly.  He was a great listener, very supportive of my art and he reminded me of the best of an era of people from my life – you, dad, and Googles (my Grandma Margaret, as a reminder for my readers).  He reminded me of home through his stories, his wit, his cooking and caring for him was a reminder of the most basic fundamentals about life you all taught me.

You would think I would take comfort in that alone and knowing from the man himself that he knew I did all I could for him would be enough, and it should be.  I pray about it and for peace of my mind, heart and soul all the time because I do realize more and more about my own mortality, the older I get.  I know I am closer to the end, much more than the beginning and even the middle and like a reflection over a calming pond it reveals itself clearer with each passing moment, as it quells itself still.

I look back on our family history. You and Dad died in your 50s, now Mike; not to mention most of the Cassone men died before 60, except for Uncle Don and Uncle Tony.  So, how much time do I have really?  Given family health history and my own bad health and some questionable life decisions.  I know that sounds cynical and final, but it is truly how I feel and while I can say I haven’t given up on life, because I haven’t – but I sure as hell doubt I will ever be truly happy in it.  So, why stick around?

For the service of and to love others one could say, okay – maybe.  For my art, why bother? Nobody really pays attention to me.  I create all this art – numerous books, galleries of photography, videos, did drag shows, plays, et and if I am honest with myself, Mom…  Not too many are paying attention. So, why the hell should I keep creating if I have no audience?  What is the effing point?  Pardon me.

Sometimes I feel like I am feeling sorry for myself and should just create because God gave me this talent and I should be ashamed to even question my gifts, and just keep giving.  Keep creating and whatever happens, happens.  The artist in me tells me that, Mom.  You in me tells me that, because I can hear you telling me to keep going.  To calm down and just ‘go with the flow.’”

But lately, I am tired … REALLY tired and just can’t bring myself to that creative space and it is a killer of the spirit.  Then when people pressure me to do, do, do – it is all for naught. 

One can go with the flow only so long before they find themselves drowning.

So, when people push and pry and wonder why I haven’t done any shows – or why this - or why that; I honestly have nothing for them.  Like I said, too much life (and death) going on.  Suicide is not an option for me because I have lost a few to that and while I don’t curse them for their decision, it isn’t for me – especially now that I know what it feels like to be one left behind by someone who does such.  That is just about the amount of fight I have in me and that is where I actually DO find some hope.

Mom, it is a constant, daily fight to keep going, but I do it just because that is what one does.  I hope I do find it in me to keep creating my art; whether I find an audience or not.  I do know God has blessed me with it.  I know I am resilient, you taught me to be.  I also ask you to pray for my anxiety to go away, or at least pare down considerably.  That has a lot to do with my distancing myself from people, from situations, crowds and such.  The more time goes by, the more anxious I get and the more reclusive I become.

It’s ironic, I used to joke that ‘I want to be a recluse when I grow up.’  It’s not that funny anymore.  When one cringes and jumps when the phone rings, it is past ludicrous.  And I am supposed to get in drag and face a critical crowd?  I will take a pass on that one for now, thank you.

*****

One last thing, I want you to know that I now know about the ‘secret’ you were telling me about on your last birthday.  I am no longer staying silent about it and whoever reads this and finds out about it will just have to deal with it.  I have been dealing with it – for years and it isn’t a bad thing at all.  No shame in it for any reason and I am actually PROUD OF YOU!!!!  I am so glad you told me, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with that information, but I feel it is the right thing because the person tried to reach out to me and I was willing.  However, something happened, and I don’t know if it got lost in translation, but if they are reading this I am ready to meet you now and I hope it is not too late.

It was your last birthday on earth, Mom.  Who knew then you would pass away six months later?  God, if only I knew.  Anyway, you were so cool that day. The older I got, the more you treated me as an equal adult and it made our relationship so special.  I could share anything with you like a best friend.  You were my best friend, though I didn’t know it then. You just had to get it off your chest and yet you didn’t come right out with the exact details, but lead me to believe you had another child before the siblings I know.  I didn’t know what had happened, but you made it clear it was one of your big regrets and you always wondered what if…? 

At the time, I didn’t press it and we carried on like two Judy’s.  Remember the ride home. As we listened to Shirley Bassey and Tina Turner, you pointed out that huge rainbow in the sky and told me that is where all ‘your dreams and desires lay.’  You and Dad both had romantic views on such things like rainbows, the moon and stars.  It is where I get it from.

Well, about five years ago, a social worker from a Michigan adoption agency reached out to me telling me of an older brother who was looking for his birth family.  He discovered me when he sought you out only to discover your death certificate in the agencies search.  Since I was the one who reported your death and am the lone Cassone of your children, I was the one they reached.  I granted them permission and gave them all of my personal information for him (my new eldest brother/sibling) to contact me.

They told me that he may or may not contact me now that he knew you had passed away, but ‘one never knows.’  He may have tried to contact me, I don’t know for sure.  I did share with one of my other siblings about it, but again – we keep family secrets secret.  I don’t know if he looked me up and saw all the drag and just couldn’t do it – or what.

What I can tell you, Mom – and what the take away for me was – he did seek you out!  And that was the most important thing, to me.  If he didn’t know and if he ever reads this, I want him to know that the woman who spoke to me on her last birthday on this earth about him spoke to me in a whisper, but it was as if she wanted to shout it out to the world.  She loved all of her children, but in her life, her home situation at 19 years of age, fresh out of high school… there was no way Googles was going to let her have a baby in her house (could have been the case), nor did she have the means at the time to properly take care of it and she surely was not going to have an abortion.

Mom, I know you would have raised him as your own if you could have at the time and your best showcase of love was to give him up to someone who could.  The best thing is that the adoption agency told me the man had a great life, a great upbringing, thrived in school and his career; had a loving wife and three sons (if I remember correctly) – all who were also thriving in life.  You probably already know this all by now and so does everybody else up there… LOL. 

I hope he reads this and sends me a message. 

We will just put that out in to the universe.

Mom, I still pray to you and for you nightly and even though I don’t call people on the phone like I used to, I know you know I think about and pray for them nightly as well.  Some have passed on and most, thankfully (for my own selfish reasons) are still here in the present.  Though their circumstances change, my prayer remains the same, as I have my own litany and it grows and grows daily to all the people who have touched me in this life.

That is the number one fundamental thing I am most thankful to you for, Mom.  You taught me how to pray and all about faith and “going with the flow.”  Thank you because without it, I truly don’t know where I would be as it can always, always be worse.

Blessings, love & (((Diva Hugs))),

Your son,

(I go by) Cassone (now) 😊

Remembering My Brother Michael - One Year Anniversay - The Last Phone Call - At the End of the Day Reprise

It has been a year now since my brother, Michael passed away suddenly.  Though he had been in declining health for some time, it was still a shock when he left us.  I always wanted acceptance from my eldest brother.  My other siblings, Dan and Sue pretty much always accepted me for who I am, but Mike was bitter for some time because I didn’t personally come out to him as gay.  He had to read about it in the local newspaper in 1993, when my semi-autobiographical play The Ashley Correspondence opened. 

Immediately I regretted never telling him out right, but I never apologized to him for keeping it from him.  Over the years, he grew to accept it and loved me for me.  For years he would never attend any of my plays and when I started doing the drag shows, I pretty much stopped telling him about them. 

One time though, he heard about me doing a special performance at a Borders Bookstore in Dearborn, MI and he called me and told me he was going to come and support me.  He thought it was the coolest thing and just bet no other queen was doing such a gig at such a venue.

Now, Michael was a tough critic, but he totally enjoyed my set and what’s more is he was impressed at how much the mixed crowd of young, old, families with their kids, various races were all enjoying it as well.  It was the only time he saw me perform, but it was just enough.  It was just right,

They say hindsight is 20/20.  You know how when someone passes away and you reflect on the last time you spoke to them and you have that epiphany… The kind of epiphany that makes you wonder… did he know he was going to pass away soon?

I last spoke to my brother, Mike three weeks before his death.  Now, mind you, we didn’t speak that often maybe about three or four times a year and, unfortunately, there were a few years there where we may have only spoke once or twice.  That last conversation was so different from all the others from so many past years.

It was as though we both cleaned each other’s slates.  I get teary-eyed and emotional just thinking about it and I am filled with gratitude to him for calling me that day.  We talked about the normal daily grind; his illnesses, my job and life stresses.  Then the conversation took a turn.

He asked me about my shows and I explained to him that it had been some months since my last show, that life had been happening too much and my circumstances haven’t been of the showbusiness kind as of late.  I told him it wasn’t like I would never do another show again, but just not any time soon and if I never did another drag show again that would be fine too.  I have had a pretty good run and have a body of work to be proud of.

He was sympathetic and actually encouraged me saying, ‘it can’t be. It is like the end of an era.’” He couldn’t remember a time in my adult life when I wasn’t doing a show or a play.  He said I will find my way back to the stage one day.  My passion would lead me back to it.  He was happy I was still working on my books, photography and such.  He was glad I always had a creative outlet over the decades.  

I told him that I was working on a book, Reflections in Face – A Photo Memoir about my soon to be 25-year drag career.  He said it sounded exciting and he would welcome a copy and I told him I would send him a copy of the photo book I did with the photos our Great Uncle Ralph had left behind.  I told him he was in the book and to not be mad that I included him (as he loved his privacy).  He was actually delighted and was looking forward to getting his copy of it.

When we were discussing Face, an incident from our childhood came up.  He brought up the time he got so mad at me for not correctly washing a pot that he flung it at me and it struck me on the right side of my forehead; blood immediately gushed out and it left me scarred for life.  He told me he felt horrible about it and for all the times he teased and bullied me when I was a kid.

I accepted his apology, of course and though that incident left me scarred for life, it added character to my face.  I told him he was just an unknown part of the creative process of a diva!  He roared with laughter.

My brother, Mike, suffered from depression and mental illness for many years, then his physical started taking a turn for the worse over time.  I apologized to him if he ever thought I was mad at him or if he ever felt I treated him differently because of it.  You know, he assured me that I hadn’t – get this – even if I had.  I sighed at the relief his words gave me. 

It was probably the most eloquent, footloose, fancy free conversation I had with him since that drag show at the bookstore some twenty years earlier; the two occasions in my adult life where I really felt loved, needed, wanted and appreciated for who I am by my big brother, Mike.

And you know what, it is enough…

I miss him and pray for him daily.  In all honesty, I think about him more now that he is gone from us.  I sure hope he is at peace now, watching all the baseball he can stand, rockin’ it out to the loudest best music he can handle and knows he is loved, loved, loved and missed dearly by me and my siblings. 

The poem below is the one I wrote some days after his passing and I was able to finally include it in one of my books, my complete poetry collection Writing Lines.  Hey, I had to mention it, because as he would say, ‘that is so’ me.

AT THE END OF THE DAY

For my brother, Michael J. Conroy

Sunrise: October 24, 1962

Sunset: August 19, 2017

Just past midnight, a few days after you had left us

Though after many years of your illness, it was sudden in the end

I sat and wrote this for you, after much prayer and deep reflection

In awe of the wonders of life’s jagged road, with its curves on a bend

I thought about our loss is really the beginning of your redemption

Thinking back on our last conversation, as hindsight reveals perfection

We said so many things that I now know needed to be said

I looked in the mirror of our brotherhood with the clearest reflection

I am so glad now that you took the time to reach out to me

For so long, I felt it a burden, even guilty for not reaching out to you enough

Time is not promised to us, and though memories last a lifetime

They can fade in weathered passages, especially when the going gets rough

I do remember, though we may not have been close as adults

Given age, life circumstance and all that it can throw in the way

We shared so much, straight from the heart especially when it came to

Baseball games, splitting a meal, going to the movies back in the day

And the music, let’s not forget about that – it was the common denominator

In our family line, we can all remember jamming on any given Saturday

In the living room, the four of us kids rocking it out

Music runs through our bloodline so rich and strong

I mostly remember occasions along the way

Christmas, Thanksgiving dinners, Easter, our birthdays

You going away to college, even that time you came to my show

The distance between us meant nothing, by picking up the phone with a simple hello

It is in these vignette’s from where I gain my strength now

I can find serenity in the knowledge that you are not suffering anymore,

This life’s struggles seemed mountainous for you

And the worries a constant test of your faith

I remember all the times you prayed for us, all the masses you requested be said

I value the times you kept me in line, when you felt I had done something wrong

And like any big brother, you guided me the best way you knew how and

In the end, you finally showed me appreciation and gave me the acceptance from you that I sought

Now, I hear your voice so plainly as you broadcast to my senses

I smell the fragrance of your spirit, I hear the music of your way,

I touch the air feeling your energy, I taste the sweetness of ice cream,

I see your greatness and love after all of it, at the end of the day

Copyright © Antonio Cassone – All Rights Reserved

Aretha Franklin Gave Us All Something We Could Feel

And Aretha Franklin has died. I am a mess. A lot of great memories doing her music on my shows. 😢 A lot of entertainers owe a lot to her legacy. The music will carry on. Listening to her high energy Live From Paris album 1977 as I write this. I associate  a lot of other fond, familial memories of her. She is like home. Very Detroit, very real, earthy and soulful. She truly gave us all something we can feel. She was a voice for not only women of color, but bridged a gap and became a voice for all women. The voice of a generation. Very pure. The real deal!

TRIBUTE - a new book of poetry by Antonio Cassone

COMING SOON!  In their 16^th published work, Antonio Cassone brings you TRIBUTE, a collection of poems written for loved ones – some living, but mostly for those passed on.  In this journey comes a discovery of living life to the fullest, remembering the importance of showing (and telling) your loved ones they are loved and to give people their “roses while they are still here.”  It is insightful and displays the effectiveness of each individual one crosses paths with in life – whether you have known them for years, or merely through friends and social media.  All lives are connected somehow and these remembrances share a common thread of never forgetting those who touch your life.  The volume is capped with an Epilogue of Acknowledgements providing some insights into the poems in the collection.  The book will be available at Amazon in both Paperback and Kindle edition formats.

Elizabeth Taylor: The Last of the Great Movie Stars

Glamour. Beauty. Diva. Icon. Star. Celebrity. Actress. Humanitarian. And the list goes on... With a live life to the fullest attitude and a no-nonsense approach to such, Elizabeth Taylor has to be the last of the great, big movie stars to pass on. In death, I am sure she will be both celebrated and remembered on many levels. She was definitely a celebrity unlike any other. Personally, I appreciated how real she would be in interviews, especially those with Larry King. Usually, a diva of her stature wouldn't be so forthcoming, human even.

As a performer, I appreciate her performances, primarily her bravura, Academy Award winning one for Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (her second in 1966; the first win was in 1961 for Butterfield 8 - for a total of five career nominations and the Jean Herscholt Humanitarian Award in 1992). I first discovered the film in high school and then studied it in an Acting class in college. Watching her and Richard Burton was like watching 'acting perfection' - seeing the two of them in their prime, both playing juicy roles to the hilt. It was definitely one of those 'ah-ha' moments of my life. Even now, when I see the film, I am just as excited and wowed by it. You would think I was at a sporting event watching the two of them.

Her White Diamonds commercials were always a guilty pleasure of mine. In fact, it is one of my favorite scents. Diva Kingsley introduced it to me one year when it was given to me as a Christmas gift. I was hooked instantly. I was also fond of all the work she did over the years for those living with HIV/AIDS, a cause she took hold of head on after her dear friend, Rock Hudson, died. She was a fearless activist and also covered a lot of the overhead cost of her Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation, so the monies raised would all go towards the research and outreach the organization does. I truly believe that work will mostly be her legacy.

Then just watching her through the years; she was always such a dynamic entity. While the naysayers would dog her out over her numerous marriages (8 total, twice to Richard Burton), her hospitalizations, addictions, you name it... Dame Taylor would seemingly dust herself off and face the crowd, as it were, every time. I, personally, found that to be one of her best qualities. Critics can say what they want, as they all do, but there will be no one like her. She truly does seem to be the last of the great Hollywood divas.

It is the end of an era.

Loleatta Holloway: Catch You on the Rebound, Sister

The news broke, for me, this morning. Soul singer, disco diva Loleatta Holloway has passed on to the other side. She, like so many other songstresses, is like an old friend. A lot of memories of Back Street and Menjo's in Detroit back in the day, with her wailing and Marky Mark's rap playing in the background - I am almost certain Diva Kingsley and I practiced our runway walk as their song thump, thump, thumped on the club's speaker system. Then my good friend, Cecil Gibbs, suggested I do her song Crash Goes Love on a show one night and I can't tell you how much fun of a lip sync that was for me. Nobody could holler, scream, belt, moan or even howl like Miss Loleatta Holloway. She had a signature style all her own.

To where one of her contemporaries may have sounded seemingly out of place, her delivery always made sense. It not only suited her, but it was expected. Then later in her career, she did a remake of Prince's I Wanna Be Your Lover, that I surely wore out at my drag shows here in South Florida. Her rendition is so smooth, yet upbeat and lively. I am also fond of her remake of You Light Up My Life (a lovely, soulful rendition of the Debby Boone hit), Madonna's Like A Prayer (from the tribute album Virgin Voices), Catch Me on the Rebound, Love Sensation, Hit and Run and Ride on Time (with Black Box) - all fabulous, disco/dance classics and chart successes. Not to mention all the countless times she has been sampled, remixed in to, out of, throughout, compiled, interpolated, et al.

There are so many more songs of hers that take me back, and that I still enjoy dusting off and listening to every now and then - or even do on a show on occasion. She is definitely one of my more fun 'voices' to do my female impersonation act to - and I just want to thank her - for the great songs, the fond memories at a club with friends ...and a fun, lively, on my toes lip sync for a show - either way she brought a lot of joy to so many lives.

Ms. Holloway was born November 5, 1946 in Chicago, Illinois. She got her start, rooted in gospel music with Albertina Walker and the group the Caravans. She enjoyed a long and storied career, that spanned over four decades and was a mainstay primarily on the Billboard dance chart. Loleatta Holloway died on March 21, 2011, after a brief illness and slipping into a coma due to heart failure. She will be missed, but the legacy of not only her songs, but her singing style will surely live on.

Legacy: Edward "Ted" Moore Kennedy, 1932 - 2009

Edward "Ted" Moore Kennedy was a great man on many levels. He was a wonderful family man, a dedicated politician and, in a lot of ways, a survivor. Not without controversy, and maybe some questionable personal choices, he was always a trooper. He seemed to gain strength when met with adversity, whether in life at home or on the United States Senate floor. He was the last surviving Kennedy sibling, coming from a family once viewed as American royalty and one that constantly had to dust themselves off and rise above private tragedy, while leading such public lives time and again.

Through his long and storied career as a Senator, he was involved in a lot of decisions that were made to improve the lives of Americans – and how we Americans are viewed in the eyes of the world. Revered as the “Lion” of the Senate, with over 300 of the laws he had a hand in putting together having been enacted. Across the board, his career has affected the way of life for so many people covering topics such as health care, immigration, disabilities, AIDS, cancer, civil rights and mental health care; to name just a short list.

His personal life was very troubled at times, with the Chappaquiddick incident in 1969, where he drove off a bridge and plunged his car into a lake, killing his mysterious female passenger. That was after the loss of his two brothers, President John F. Kennedy and Robert Kennedy – both to assassinations. Then there was the drinking and infidelity; the accusations of him being a womanizer. Both politically and privately, like my good friend pointed out to me earlier today – ‘the secrets that man took to his coffin, he should have written a tell all book to come out after his death.’ I am sure that would be an excellent read.

Like Ted Kennedy or not, you can’t deny that he leaves a rich legacy of great works in public service. His speeches are what most riveted me, even as a young child at age 10, watching him speak so openly and from the heart when at the Democratic National Convention in 1980, which brought tears to my parents’ eyes and recently while I was watching a special about the Kennedy family, I saw his stirring eulogy for his brother, Robert. Ted Kennedy walked the walk, and talked to talk – and did so with eloquence, pride and humanity.

I look to the Kennedy family in a whole new light, that with Eunice Kennedy Shriver’s death just a few weeks ago and now Ted has passed on – it is an end of an era for America and the world. You can say a lot of things, but as a family they collectively gave so much to this country and our people it is almost hard to comprehend. They have all left an indelible imprint on the very heart of the world.

Ted Kennedy gave his life’s work with the face of familiarity; helped the common man, woman and child feel worthy and able; he stood tall as a symbol of unity, strength and humility – even up to his final days in public life. He always held his head up high. This very respected man will be hard to replace. Whoever takes his seat has some pretty big shoes to fill. I hope that whoever it is, takes notice and learns by example that no matter what defeats, which sidesteps and hurdles one may face in their private life they can overcome and put the will of the people, and their best interest in heart and mind ahead of their own concerns – that is a true public servant.

Ted Kennedy’s life is stamped as an example for such; he will always be brilliant, will always be a symbol of what is just and good and my, oh my, what a wonderful legacy he leaves behind just through those laws he helped get enacted. Years from now, and after our generation and the next as life’s cycles turn through forevermore; his life’s work will still carry on. You can’t say that about too many people living in these turbulent times.

Aaliyah's Music & Style Are Still As Fresh Today As Ever

Eight years now... where does the time go?

Aaliyah was on the cusp of greatness - and just like that...gone.

My friend, Chris, used to be her tutor when she attended the Detroit High School for the Performing Arts back in my hometown. And she was your typical home girl from the Motor City. People will say what they will about where I come from, but they just don't understand. So many talented people come from there. It truly is a special place with special people who seem to capture an essence about them for talents in the arts, business and industry - to name a few.

She was simple, young, beautiful - and now, I will say, iconic in a way.

I never thought I would say that about Aaliyah, but after seeing the emergence of so many young R&B singers that have followed her these past eight years; one could say her impact has been large, but subtle. Her fashion sense at such a young age, her use of special effects and live animals in her videos and stage act, her makeup, the way she carried herself and her talent all went away that fateful night in August.

I remember when I first heard the news. I called Chris immediately and could tell he already knew. He was devastated. This wasn't a teacher, he was her tutor. That sort of set up is very in your face and very hands on. She was your typical teenager coming up in her high school years. She was already so established in both life and love, her career was already in full gear, yet she had the same aspirations and a willingness to let go and dream - just like any other school girl her age.

Then...poof...the essence of time during our brief lives is but a speck of dust, a mere spot on history's horizon...

Aaliyah left her mark on that horizon. Especially with her last studio album, the self-titled release that came out shortly before her untimely death. Of course, like a lot of music fans in general, I scooped up my copy the first day it came out and listened to it immediately. After her death... tears were shed, as I listened to this brilliant, brilliant artist who was only just 'becoming' and so talented. She had just about any kind of music style/genre packed into that one disc. I can't even begin to imagine what more she would have done, or how much she would have evolved as an artist.

What I do know...and what I reflect on is that she was - and still is - loved by so many. Her music, her fashion, her style and grace...touched many people and made her a role model for many a young girl; no matter their race, religion, where they come from, rich or poor... Aaliyah was old enough to know better, but still had that essence of youth that will always remain.

She will always be beautiful.

She will always be a trendsetter.

She will always have pushed the envelope.

She is an icon now; I can see that.

May she rest in peace, and if you haven't already - get a copy of Aaliyah from 2001 and be simply, very simply: entertained!

-

More info on the album referred to here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aaliyah_(album))

OPINION: The Plot Thickens as Jackson's Death is Ruled a Homicide

"WOW!"

I just can't stop saying that three letter word.

Every time I read about or see a news story on the ever-changing saga surrounding Michael Jackson's death, it just gets more and more intriguing. I can understand why the news channels and digital media have covered it so extensively. They will continue to with plot lines better than a best selling novel.

My roommate and I joked one day, when I commented that it would make an excellent movie (and think of the task the makeup artist would have at hand for whichever actor they cast to portray Jackson - let's face it; not too many people look like Michael Jackson from these past few years). We laughed because it couldn't be just a movie. It would have to be a miniseries.

Now, the affidavits and sealed documents come to light and paint a pretty sad picture. It shows how tortured a soul Jackson was, feeling the need to depend on so many drugs. Though they say he was a wonderful father, I question that notion ever more after seeing the latest developments unfold. Children are much smarter than they are given credit for - and I am sure they saw much more than I would ever want to know.

I wrote a recent article pertaining to Michael Jackson's legacy, in hopes that his music would be what he would be most remembered for. That seems less and less possible when I look at these documents and await what the next turn of events will be. I see a legacy of a very selfish, conflicted man. An extraordinary artist and celebrity, but a typical drug addict - wanting and doing anything and everything to get the next fix; no matter what.

Toxicology reports and needle marks from neck to toes do not lie. It is almost uneasy to think of all this man put his body through. Then there's this doctor, who was hired like a month before Jackson's death and seemed in a desperate way himself ...a little strapped for cash, perhaps.

What a web we weave when the character's stay the same, but their characteristics change. At first instance, I looked at Michael Jackson as a weak, frail man surrounded by Judas' and Dr. Murray, on the run - a victim of circumstance perhaps. Now, musical legacy and good Daddy aside, I see Michael Jackson as his own worst enemy, who should have maybe been a bit more careful what he wished for and Dr. Murray as a seedy opportunist.

Time will tell the tale ...as it always comes out in the wash. I just hope, for the sake of reason, that the children didn't see as much as they could have. I hope that as time goes on, Jackson's music will be what people talk about the most. And I hope that, if the doctor was in the wrong he gets what the laws have coming for him.

Most of all, after dealing with people close to me addicted to drugs and alcohol - I hope this tragedy can be a wake up call to people who think that just because they have money to do a, b or c OR can make money doing things. That they take up a sense of responsibilty in the process and if it looks, sounds or smells wrong - then guess what? It's WRONG - and just say no.

That almighty dollar... what ones will do for the possession of it, the lengths they will go to get their hands on it...to own it, to feel it, to control people with it...

It shall be interesting to see how this all progresses... too bad a man had to die, a family changed forever and so many other's held responsible for the selfishness of one...

Turn the page...

~

Read up on the latest on this story at http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/Music/08/25/michael.jackson.last.hours/index.html

The Smiling Face of a Murderer

Here is my reply to the thread that features the main suspect in Mrs. Johnson's vicious murder...

"Just give me five minutes! FIVE MINUTES! That smug smile... what has the world come to? I used to be an advocate against the death penalty, but now a case has come along where THAT punishment suits the crime. My condolences and deep compassion goes out to the family, but more so to the victim herself. I did not know her personally, but I think on all the people who have helped me and who I have helped and never in a million years would any one of us think something like this could happen. She gave you rides, probably was a good listener to all your teenage woes back in the day and EVEN gave you something to drink right before you vicously, senselessly murdered her. What did it get you? STUFF? Gym shoes and t-shirts are not worth a life, son. Now all I can do is pray. Pray for her family, her poor husband who undoubtedly loved her, her co-workers and friends that will surely be haunted by this, our community that has been rocked and made super cautious and on edge...and in time, I pray that I can even find it in my heart to pray for you and your peeps. You picked the wrong one, wiseguy. Tikkitress Johnson was loved by many. I hope the police and CSI did their due diligence & the prosecution meticulously looks over everything so you get the penalty you deserve. What a sick and EVIL thing you have done. May God have mercy on your soul - that is, if you have one." - CassoneReports

http://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/broward/oakland-park/sfl-tacobell12b20090812111548,0,667782.photo