Benny Jay: Don Cornelius’ Last Great Day in Chicago

On Don Cornelius’ last great day in Chicago, I got up early so I could get downtown on time.

Well, not really early for normal people. More like noon. But that’s early for me. Especially on Labor Day when I didn’t get to bed until about four in the morning.

They were having a big celebration in Millennium Park to honor Don Cornelius for creating Soul Train. I told my wife we had to get there before the gates opened to get a good seat.

Cause everybody who was anybody would want to see the Soul Train concert.

Especially since it was free. As in f-r-e-e!

I know — I tend to think that just cause I love something everybody loves it.

But in this case, people, I think we’ll all agree that 1970s Soul is the best music ever:  James Brown, Aretha Franklin, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Curtis Mayfield, the Spinners, the list goes on and on….

Sure enough — there were thousands and thousands of people waiting in line. I found myself standing next to a retired public school teacher from the south side.

Don Cornelius: 1936-2012….

We got into a mini-argument over who was better: Curtis Mayfield or Marvin Gaye?

I said Curtis and she said Marvin.  At one point, I started singing Superfly, to try to prove my point.

Wound up undercutting whatever point I was trying to prove cause I got all the words wrong, like always.

Eventually, we agreed to disagree about Marvin v. Curtis, while agreeing that I was a terrible singer.

Then we took turns ripping into Mayor Rahm Emanuel for making life miserable for public school teachers. Speaking of things we agreed on.

Not to get all political and everything….

Getting there early paid off cause we had great seats — way up front.

What a wonderful night. The house band was rockin’. They opened with the Soul Train theme. Brought the crowd to its feet.

C’mon, everybody — one more time: “Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo – doo, doo! Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doooo — doo, doo, doo! Let’s get it on – it’s time to get down….”

Richard Steel and Herb Kent were the MC’s. The brought on the Chi-Lites, the Impressions, Jerry Butler, and the Emotions.

That retired Chicago school teachers was dancing like it was 1975.

Eventually, Don Cornelius walked on stage to receive an honorary street sign.

He was kind of loopy. He started talking and you didn’t know where he was gonna go. Like a dinner guest who drinks too much and embarrasses everyone by revealing the family secrets.

Rambled on about this and that. Started talking about the Chess Brothers. Then changed the subject. Dropped the N word. Made a few politically incorrect statements. Jerry Butler — speaking of great `70s singers — came on and out and sort of eased him off the stage.

But so what. That’s Don Cornelius, ladies and gentleman. Born and raised in Chicago. Graduated from DuSable High. Went on out and created Soul Train. Took `70s soul — the greatest music of all time — and broadcast it all over the world.

If he’s a little loopy, he’s earned the right.

Rest in peace, Don Cornelius….

Randolph Street: CloverLeaf

These are pictures of the interchange between the Dan Ryan and Stevenson expressways near China Town on Chicago’s near Southside. 

All photos © Jon Randolph

Benny Jay: Fantasy Basketball

I’m reading an article about the Bulls — cause that’s what I do. And I come upon this great quote from Joakim Noah, the six-foot-11-inch center we lovingly refer to as Jo-Jo.

In the game against Washington, Jo-Jo was dribbling the ball like a guard. Centers don’t usually dribble the ball. Instead, they stand in the middle of the court with their arms in the air and yell at the guards: Pass it! I’m open!

Even if they aren’t.

By the way, that’s pretty much everything you need to know about basketball right there.

After the game, a reporter asked Noah if he fantasized about being a point guard.

You know, the guys who actually get to do all the dribbling.

To which Jo-Jo said: “Usually when I think of the word fantasize, I think of women.”

Turns out the inquiring reporter was the legendary Sam Smith.

I know this because I read the exchange on Sam’s blog. I read Sam’s blog cause I pretty much read everything about the Bulls. Like I was telling you.

In his post, Sam provides a transcript of the conversation.

Sam: “I really wasn’t going there. You’ll notice I tried to keep it to basketball.”

Jo-Jo: “I don’t think of basketball and fantasize as the same. It’s not the same category.”

Sam: “I’m a little older than you.”

The great Pam Grier!

As you can see, what we have here is a generation gap. I can see each side’s point since I’m old enough to view the world like Sam, yet young enough (barely) to remember where Jo-Jo’s coming from.

When you’re young, it’s girls, girls, girls, girls, girls!

I know this from my own experiences as a high school student, where I fantasized about girls every waking hour.

At which point, I started dreaming about them.

The girls I fantasized could fill a book. And I’m talking epic, not novella.

From the world of movies, there were, just to name a few: Pam Grier, Raquel Welch, Marilyn Monore, Rita Moreno, Vonetta McGee and Pam Grier.

I know I already mentioned Pam Grier, but I fantasized about her so much, I have to mention her twice.

From TV, there was Adrienne Barbeau, Sally Struthers, Denise Nichols and the girl who played Rhoda’s younger sister in the Mary Tyler Moore show.

Come to think of it, I also fantasized about Rhoda.

Did I mention Carly Simon?

Then there were the assorted TV anchor women, teachers, random girls in my Algebra class and hot-looking older ladies who worked in the cafeteria.

With all that fantasizing, it’s a miracle I had enough time to do my homework.

But as I got older, my energy’s waned, and my fantasies moved to less strenuous activities, generally having to do with watching the Bulls.

Sigh.

I do know some old timers who still fantasize about women.

I’ve got this one friend we’ll call Herman — cause his wife will kill him if I use his real name.

Herman happens to be Puerto Rican, but he speaks a little Yiddish on account of his days selling shoes on Maxwell Street.

When we go to lunch, Herman and I usually have a variation on the following exchange.

Herman:  “Hey, Benny, check out the tuchus on the waitress.”

Me: “Herman, that girl’s young enough to be your granddaughter!”

Herman: “Hey, man — you can look at the menu, so long as you don’t order anything to eat.”

No Blaise: Flirting with Vegetarianism

A couple years ago, I went through a stint of being a full out vegetarian. It lasted a couple months before it just became too inconvenient, and I ended the streak with a chicken sandwich from McDonalds. Which was maybe one of the worst decisions I’ve ever made…I was throwing up for two days straight.

Going from no meat, to McDonalds meat? GOOD CHOICE!

Since then, I’ve been on and off with meat. I never want it in my salads, it’s great in pasta, and I could never ever deny a good cheeseburger. This all comes down to not me being a vegetarian, just me having food mood swings.

When I’m eating something without meat, or if I’ve opted for a tofu-something, I’m all “Ohhh yes, this is so refreshing that there’s no sort of meat in this. I love being a partial vegetarian.” Then the next night, I could be eating a cheeseburger, and I’ll be all, “Oh my goddddd this is good. I could eat one of these a day!” So on, and so forth.

So, obviously, my commitment to a meat free life has fluctuated.

A couple months ago, my now-boyfriend Ted, and I go on our first date. We’re talking, then it gets to what we’re ordering, and Ted starts describing his food habits. Talking about how he’s trying to eat only fish, stay away from all other meats, he usually can do it, etc etc… It’s sounding more and more like what I’ve been gearing my food habits towards, though he seems slightly more committed to a meat-less palette. I coined our food intake style as “flirting with vegetarianism”.

Awww, flirting about flirting with vegetarianism, isn’t that just the cutest thing? I finally found someone who eats the way I eat!

Ted and his similar eating habits seal the deal for me, since we’ve been dating ever since.

Our dates nowadays will occasionally happen at places like Native Foods, which is vegan, or we’ll get a tofu or seitan sandwich from Bon Bon, and feel very proud of our vegetarian meal.

Other times we’ll go somewhere and I’ll get a cheeseburger, or Ted will get a giant hot dog…sometimes made of an exotic meat, and both of us will try and pretend like we don’t know what we’re eating.

I had a salad yesterday, it’s fine!

Benny Jay: Kissin’ Cousins

Not watching the big Bulls/Heat game cause I’m driving from Michigan to Chicago.

I’m in Michigan cause my nephew’s performing his senior recital which includes a whole lot of opera.

Technically, he’s not my nephew — he’s my first cousin’s son. Which makes him either my second cousin or my first cousin once removed. I can never keep those things straight.

But since my first cousin’s more like a brother than a first cousin, I consider his son my nephew.

If you follow….

The opera-singing cousin/nephew’s named Josh Glassman. Kid sings like an angel so remember that name.

Here’s the thing about my family and opera….

There’s the faction that knows tons about opera. And there’s the faction that knows very little about opera.

Unfortunately, I fall into the second category. But I make up for it by caring way too much about the Bulls.

Speaking of which: Fuck the Heat!

After the recital we go to my cousin/brother’s house and eat. Which is something that everyone in my family — opera and non-opera factions included — is really good at.

Happiness is a warm 30 aught 6….

In fact, if you could make it to The Met by eating fried chicken, I’d be up on the stage singing Verdi right now: “Va, pensiero, sull’ali dorate — va, ti posa sui clivi, sui colli, Okjlkj…..”

Like I know what that means….

At my cousin’s house, Jennie puts out a lovely spread. Jennie’s my cousin/brother’s wife/girlfriend. I know, it’s complicated. Like everything in my family.

Here’s what folks in the family say about Jennie: Dang, that girl can cook!

While I’m eating, I have a conversation about rifles with Ami — who’s a cousin, sort of, by marriage. Like I said — complicated.

Conversation goes like this….

Ami: I have a rifle.

Me: You have a rifle?

Vickie: I have a rifle, too!

Vickie’s Ami’s mother which makes her my — something, I don’t know. You try keeping track of all this family shit.

As you can see, Ami’s right….

Vickie lives in Missouri and owns a 30 ought 6 which she keeps in the back of her truck. Cause, like, where else are you gonna keep your 30 ought 6?

A 30 ought 6 is a rifle. Oh, don’t act like you knew that.

Vickie says she’s gonna take me to the Ozarks and put me in that truck and drive me around so I can shoot some squirrels.

First of all — I’m not getting in that truck and I’m not shooting that rifle and I’m not eating squirrels.

Chicken, on the other hand….

Then Ami and I get into this debate over who played Loretta Lynn’s husband in Coal Miner’s Daughter. Not sure how we get from rifles to Loretta Lynn. But we did….

I say Levon Helm. And Ami says Tommy Lee Jones. Then she looks it up on her smart phone and guess what? She’s right and I’m wrong.

Damn, I hate when that happens!

On the ride home, I listen to Sam Cooke while the fellas — Norm and Cap — text me updates of the Bulls game.

They do an excellent job. It’s like I’m watching the game. I know all the details. Including a certain two missed free throws which I’m not talking about except to say this….

Ahhhhh!!!!!

When those free throws bounce out and a certain team from Chicago loses, I’m listening to Sam sing: “We’re havin’ a party, everybody swinging, dancing to the music on the radio….”

God, I love that song!

So it’s like getting stabbed in the heart, but feeling no pain.

Anyway, to all my cousins/brothers/sisters in Michigan — opera and non-opera factions included: Thank you, thank you, thank you!