Merry Christmas Baby

Charles Brown where are you?
It's Christmas time in the city and Charles Brown is not in town. Charles died back in 1999, but his version of "Merry Christmas Baby" will always be the one-the only one. A major influence on the likes of Nat King Cole, Fats Domino, Chuck Berry and Little Richard, I used to see Charles all the time in the 80s and 90s inside the Top of the Stretch room at Golden Gate Fields. Sometimes he'd sit alone, sometimes near another blues great, Jimmy McCracklin, and now and then he'd be accompanied by one or more women admirers. Charles loved horse racing and he never missed an opportunity to go to the track. You couldn't miss him on weekends because he'd always be wearing an outfit for his evening gigs. Usually Charles had on a seaman's cap in royal blue sequins with matching suit. In his last few years he was wheel chair bound, but that never stopped his wardrobe or his racetrack appearances. Even when he'd taken a tough beat in a photo finish, Charles remained friendly. He never refused an autograph or signature on a program or CD. He made the time, and knew there was always another race coming up somewhere. He liked people and his breathy voice was just as recognizable cheering for a thoroughbred as it was in a smokey blues ballad.
Charles had his own style of betting horses too. During his hey day, he'd often play 6 or 8 horses in a trifecta box. Sometimes there were only 8 horses in the race, but that didn't stop Charles Brown. He liked saying I got it! I caught the Tri! My friend Leonard, a ticket clerk at the track, used to show me some losing tickets he'd found laying around. In a 9 horse race, the ticket would read $2 exacta box 1 2 4 5 6 7 8. "The 3 horse ran third, Leonard would say, this is Charles Brown shit." Like his love for the blues and his massive talent, Charles had his share of big winners too. They had a big memorial for Charles Brown at the Golden Gate Fields Turf club. His pallbearers included Johnny Otis, and Richard Penniman. Sometimes when I go to the track I can still see Charles Brown moving through the clubhouse, grabbing a program, asking who won the fifth at Hollywood Park, and and smiling gently all in one motion.
Merry Christmas, Baby, you sure been good to me.

Comments

To a Tee

I'm a sucker for a good t-shirt. They are the foundational garment of my life. My day starts with selecting a t-shirt and it ends with sleeping in one. Once thought of as under garments, t-shirts are now original art and no doubt, a billion dollar business. You can get a t-shirt with anybody's picture displayed. You can commemorate an event, a birthday, a death, even a specular play in any sport. Family reunions usually have a commemorative t-shirt. Also, any organization that solicits your support in the form of a donation is likely to offer you a t-shirt. Where once I only had the basic white t-shirt, my drawers are filled with all manner of colorful choices. Some recognize major events in my life, some, spectacular performances or plays I have witnessed, and some unforgettable places I have been. I say I'm a sucker for a good t-shirt because I have taken the bait on what I perceived as a must-have only to be disappointed. ...

Illusory

What does it take to enrage you? That moment when your words fly on pure emotion because enough is enough. Is it a driver that cuts you off at high speed? What about being an eyewitness to blatant racism or on the receiving end of some obvious injustice? I know some people who never express rage. I admire them but know full well I am not capable of such distance from that which would bring about such a strong response. Another senseless shooting and 7 people die at the hands of a mentally ill gun owner. The father of the 20 year old college student lets it fly and somehow millions feel a new sense of relief. He calls the politicians bastards who do nothing, he wears his pain in public. The news media responds but we all know that nothing is going to change. We are the gun country. We are the place where anybody, anytime, can be cut down just for being there when somebody else snaps. Usually the perpetrators are delusional. ...

Mr. Greene v. Mr. Brown

I want to tell you about something. Something I've carried inside myself for a number of years now. Perhaps if I were a different kind of person I wouldn't need to talk about it. I'm not. My need to tell it is stronger than your need to hear it. Because, however, there are a number of teachers and former students of mine who may read these meanderings from time to time, I need to tell this story all the more. About 7 or 8 years ago I was asked if I would allow a university PhD. candidate to observe an English class. At first I decided against it because I was scheduled to have a student teacher placed with me the second half of the semester in question. After some urging, however, at the request of a respected colleague, I agreed. Soon I was committing to extra meetings, signing documents and explaining to the class in question who the young woman who thoughtfully pounded away on a laptop in the rear of the classroom three times a week was. I knew that the topic of ...

Daily Blues & Views

Search This Blog