Marvin
June 6th, 2010
If Marvin Gaye were alive today, I’m sure he’d be humming chords of Mercy Mercy Me:
Oh, mercy mercy me
Oh, things ain’t what they used to be
No, no
Oil wasted on the oceans and upon our seas
Fish full of mercury
The oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is arguably the most tragic thing that can happen to an ecosystem. I’ve posted this Gaye classic (pun not intended) in tribute to the people whose way of life has been altered by British Petroleum’s idiocy.
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Grann
June 6th, 2010
November 6, 1923 – April 28, 2010
The Morrison family said goodbye to Mary Lee Morrison, less than a week before my 25th birthday. I have nothing but fond memories of her. Never a dull moment when you were hanging out with Grann (short from grandma). I’ll certainly miss her smile, laugh and tenacity.
Grann, after having ordered a glass of wine during lunch on a trip to Monterey, Calif., attempted to explain her beverage choice as if to maintain a matronly, Christian-like persona in front of her grandchildren:
“Jesus turned water into wine. If it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me,” she said, sending my sisters, my aunt Carol and I into a roaring round of laughter.
Aunt Carol replied: “The Bible says he turned it into wine. It didn’t say he drank it.”
Grann shrugged and took a sip of her wine.
That was a good day.
–
I have to be honest, though. I don’t know very much about the history of the Morrison family. And I’m in it. While reading Grann’s funeral program, I learned things I’d only heard briefly mentioned before or not at all. I tried years ago to engage my dad about where our family is from. I’ve asked about his dad, whom I never met. He died two years prior to my birth. I’ve never gotten more than a sentence or two out of my dad about his our family. I’m told we have relatives in Chicago, Illinois where Grann was raised before she moved to Oakland, California. I was supposed to meet them at the funeral, but they never made an appearance.
There has always been an eerie silence surrounding the family lineage which both puzzles and troubles me. And not to be melodramatic, at times I feel I don’t know an important part of me. If I’ll ever reconcile that, who knows. I’m a journalist, so I can definitely find out as much I’d want to know without the help of my dad or my aunt. But when will I take the time to do it?
–
You’ve got to admit the striking resemblances in my family. Can you guess which one is my dad in the picture below? If you’ve seen pictures of me in elementary school, you’d be able to point him out no problem.
From top left, clockwise: My dad, David J. Morrison, Aunt Carol, Uncle Malcolm (deceased), Mary Lee Morrison (deceased), David H. Morrison (deceased).
The Stuyvesants
June 6th, 2010
Friends of a friend of mine released their collaborative project last week. Soundmen and graphic designers Flwrpt and Algorythm pay hommage to Brooklyn’s BedStuy community with The Stuyvesants. It’s a collection of solid instrumentals fusing together hip hop, soul, funk and other genres seamlessly. Click on the album to visit their site and download the album.
Here’s a sample from the project, titled 20 Jefferson Ave Theme.
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