I hope that Joan and my grandmother, also a stunning blond, are reconnecting on the other side and keeping God laughing. I have no doubt that Joan has just the perfect joke for St. Peter when she arrives at the pearly gates.
For my music column in a southeastern Massachusetts newspaper, I'd interviewed Johnny three times for -- in 2011, 2013, and most recently in January. He'd played a local venue in our readership area every winter for years.
Why would he care what the kid in 5B was ingesting through the eyes? And also, what were the fucking chances we would run into each other. I had still only seen him seven times total in the three years.
A few months ago, filmmakers came to my workplace and interviewed me at length about four contemporary legends for a new documentary. That documentary promises to be an entertaining, informative and slightly creepy look at fear, crime and storytelling in the 20th century.
Suddenly, there was this sound I'd never heard before that utterly shattered me. Everything and everyone but Domingo went dark. I was raptured, and I knew right then and there, "I am going to be an opera star!"
Over 20 years ago, Mary Jane Blige stepped into the music business with distinction. Armed with gritty soulful vocals, honey blonde hair, street edge swag and a new blending of R&B/Soul infused with hip hop, Mary created a new path in music history.
The before of my mother's story isn't always clear, but I can vouch for the after. There was my mother, who begins a story about a man without shoes or a little girl bound for another life, and I listen because somewhere in these legends is my legacy.