James Brown and Gerald Ford


James Brown…Look at those two words…James Brown. I know a lot of words, but I don’t know any that can be added to the words, James Brown. You can say that Bootsy is funky, or that Aretha is soulful. You can say that Prince can dance and that Tina works hard. But you can’t say shit about James Brown that can make the image any clearer.

James Motherfucking Brown, man! I wonder if he ever scribbled his ambitions into a notebook when he was a kid. It must have said something like:

1. Sing my ass off

2. Write my ass off

3. Dance my ass completely off! Could you imagine James at the Jr. Prom? Glad I wasn’t there, I might’ve run home for the last time and just hacked my feet off.

4. Reap the rewards of 1,2 and 3 and get laid…alot!

5. Get real high and shoot my truck, along with a lot of other shit.

6. Spend my entire career scaring the shit out of anyone with the balls to front a band.

James WAS the word “hard.” James was any verb followed by “hard.” Live hard, play hard, dance hard, party hard, laugh hard, cry hard, walk hard, talk hard, you name it, James was hard.

I’d love to describe what it was like to see James Brown live…but I can’t. I really and truly can’t. I don’t write well enough. When I close my eyes and remember how it felt to be in the second row booth at the Vegas Hilton when “Livin’ in America” was his comeback release, all that I come up with is “Fuck, man” and that’s not good enough, so I won’t even try. James Brown live was the ultimate “you had to be there” moment. I’ll let someone else try to describe what it was like, I don’t have the chops.

James left us Christmas morning. I think it should be a law that everyone…EVERYONE listen to 30 minutes of James Brown per day and watch 30 minutes of James Brown concert footage every Sunday. The world would be a better place…guaranteed!

Oh yeah, and did you hear about Gerald Ford?