Nobody Can Stop Reggae…

Lucky Dube passed on to the next life this past week…
It was an armed mugging in Johannesburg…
He died on the spot…
His was the last concert I went to in New York City…
My girls and I were right up by the stage…
I touched his arm as he went up to amaze us…
He was so real in his lyrics, so pure in his singing…
So sincere in his performance…
I could tell that he truly believed in what he was doing…
I could see his passion…
Even though the club was full, it was just him and his music…
I swayed in awe…
Lucky Dube never felt the need to answer to anyone…
He never felt the need to follow trends…
He was his own genre, his own trend…
His performances and fans were the answers…

Lucky Dube…you are no longer a Prisoner in this Crazy World, but as a Rasta man and Freedom Fighter, you showed us that although we are Different Colors, we are One People and we need to come Together As One even though It’s Not Easy, because You Reap What You Sow, and it is everyone, including the Rasta Man’s, Prayer not to be a Lonely Man or woman. Thank you for these and the many other sentiments you shared with the world. And now, rest in Peace, Perfect Peace with your Jah…

One Love to Bob Marley when you see him…

"Life, without passion, is Unforgivable."

Today I tried the new fragrance, Unforgivable Woman by Sean John. Initially I was in love with it, and then as the day went by, the little cardboard square I had sprayed it on started to make me wrinkle my nose. The novelty of it wore off quickly.

What didn't wear off, and keeps replaying in my head, is the ad slogan, "Life without passion is unforgivable." It is very hard for me to be passionate about my life right now, but no matter how bad it gets, there are those moments, brief though they may be, of sheer passion. It may be when I am driving down the road with the windows rolled down and the breeze in my hair. It may be when that raspy voice of the lead singer from Nicklback comes on the radio and starts singing about being a rockstar...and I rock out with him. It may be when the warm water massages my kneck, my back... and the rest of my body at the end of a hard day's work. It may be when I simply let the Oreo ice cream slide down my trachea...

Zeal, Fire, Passion, Wreckless Abandon! When I die, that is how I want people to remember I lived. Anything less would be unacceptable...unforgivable.