Hello. Come on in. The daddy writes about current events, literature, music and, once in a while, drops something on you from back in the day to make you pause and ponder, stop and stare, and begin to wonder. Who knows? You may start to pace the floor, shake your head from side to side, then fall down on bended knees in a praying position and cry, "Lawd, have mercy! What is this world coming to?" Check yourself! But this blog is NOT about the daddy. It's about you: your boos, your fam, your hood, your country...our hopes and dreams of a better tomorrow. So let's make a pact: the daddy will put it on the track if you'll chase it down and hit him back. Together, we can definitely take it to another level. Shall we?"

Sunday, November 9, 2008

What do you do to relax, to find "A Certain Peace?"

Today, this Sunday morning, the daddy is feeling good. He walked a few blocks around his neighborhood and lingered in his backyard, listening for the wind and the birds. Now, he's sitting in his kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee from his "Mickey's Diner" cup (named after a famous cafe in St. Paul, Minnesota. The cafe is actually a train car, small and intimate. Sometimes, the daddy goes there and talks to the customers, many of whom are homeless, including veterans of Vietnam and Iraqi war). And he's sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of java, listening to Mahalia Jackson sing "Precious Lord" and "We shall overcome" and blogging.

Feeling restful and calm, the daddy thought he'd find a poem about a peaceful state and a poem about Mahalia Jackson. In "A Certain Peace," Nikki Giovanni (photo on the right) speaks about the importance of taking some time to be alone. In "The Day They Eulogized Mahalia," Audre Lorde (photo on the left) puts Mahalia Jackson's death within the context of black life in Chicago.

A Certain Peace
by Nikki Giovanni

it was very pleasant
not having you around
this afternoon
not that i don't love you
and want you and need you
and love loving and wanting and needing you

but there was a certain peace
when you walked out the door
and i knew you would do something
you wanted to do
and i could run
a tub full of water
and not worry about answering the phone
for your call
and soak in bubbles
and not worry whether you would want something
special for dinner
and rub lotion all over me
for as long as i wanted
and not worry if you had a good idea
or wanted to use the bathroom

and there was a certain excitement
when after midnight you came home
and we had coffee
and i had a day of mine
that made me as happy
as yours did you

The Day They Eulogized Mahalia
by Audre Lorde

The day they eulogized Mahalia
the echoes of her big voice were stilled
and the mourners found her
singing out from their sisters mouths
from their mothers toughness
from the funky dust in the corners
of Sunday church pews
sweet and dry and simple
and that hated Sunday morning fussed over feeling
the songs
singing out from their mothers toughness
would never threaten the lord's retribution
any more.

Now she was safe
that big Mahalia
Chicago turned all out
to show her that they cared
but her eyes were closed
And although Mahalia loved our music
nobody sang her favorite song
and while we talked about
what a hard life she had known
and wasn't it too bad Sister Mahalia
didn't have it easier
Six Black children
burned to death in a day care center
on the South Side
kept in a condemned house
for lack of funds
firemen found their bodies

Question: What do you do to relax, to achieve "A Cetain Peace?"


Anonymous said...

Nice, Mr. MacDaddy. I just go to the spa. Let them rub the past work week away.

sdg1844 said...

Beautiful. I'm sitting here w/the sun shining through the window and catching up on reading. I'm just reflecting on many things and nothing @ all. I like time to myself.

Vigilante said...

Daddy, my first ambulatory minutes every morning contain my only moment of absolute peace. As soon as I'm dressed, I sneak my first 1/2 cup of java from the daily brew (black gold) and release my Doberwoman, Ballou, and the two of us grab a few moments in the back yard, giving thanks to all that we have, including that part of it all which we cannot grasp. Yet.

MacDaddy said...

anon: I like that idea.

sdg:Yes. Meditative.

vigilante: What a nice routine each morning. I'm sure Ballou appreciates it too...I don't know about you, but I'm addicted to java.

Anonymous said...

Lately, I've been watching more Fox News because it's therapeutic to see those wingnuts in a frothing, maniaical frenzy over Tuesday night's thumping in the White House and both branches of Congress.

Let freedom ring! :)

MacDaddy said...

r.j.: I haven't watched Fox in about a year. I'll check them out after the Viking game. By the way, I'm pulling for the Raiders to win today and improve as a team in the second half of the football season.

CurvyGurl said...

Hey MacDaddy! Sometimes, the way I realize a certain peace is by thinking about all the wonderful blessings God has provided. As the scripture says "it's the peace that surpasses all understanding".

Somebodies Friend said...


I'm glad my gal isn't the one that was tellin' me 'A certain Peace' because she had it all wrong, I had a shitty day and hers was all that!

rainywalker said...

Music and reading most of the time.

MacDaddy said...

Hey, CurvyGurl: Thanks for the insight. I'm still loving your blog. I find myself getting away from the more gossipy blog and getting into blogs where folks blog when they have something meaningful to say or interesting to have readers think about. I view your blog that way. I'll be visiting you.
somebodiesfriend: Sorry to hear your dad went bad. Those who find a certain kind of peace have bad days too. Let's look for the stars tomorrow. Blessings.

Anonymous said...

So beautiful, MacDaddy -- you're words keep slidin' down as smooth as a cup of hot, creamy chocolate on a cold day in January.
love you/r blog.

MacDaddy said...

"So beautiful, MacDaddy -- you're words keep slidin' down as smooth as a cup of hot, creamy chocolate on a cold day in January.
love you/r blog."
anon: It is you who use words like a poet, not me. Look forward to you coming back and singing so beautifully.