Redemption Song

Monday, bloody Monday! Did everybody get their football and junk food fix last night? I honestly don't care enough about sports to sit through an entire game of football when my Gators aren't playing, so I only tuned in during halftime. 

. . .

What. Was. That? Believe you me, I love me some Madonna (well, at least old school Madge - "Music" and older). Who doesn't? She's the fiercest, the original "don't give a f*ck," in your face, superstar. In fact, I liked Madonna so much as a child, that I stood in line in SOUTH KOREA to buy The Immaculate Collection on cassette, because I was out of the country during its release. No joke. But last night's debacle was just that, a debacle. The material matron was doing the wobble, baby (and I don't mean the newest dance craze to hit the scene)! She almost fell a couple of times, and was totally out of breath. It honestly made me a bit uncomfortable to see her trying so hard for relevancy. I don't want to remember that Madonna. I want to remember the Madonna with the cone bras, and the hot chained up guys. Not the Madonna prancing around in too-tall-for-someone-her-age-to-be-dancing-in boots, madly flourishing gold pom-poms and screaming at me to L-U-V Madonna! Yikes. That said - her production rocked, and it was entertaining, to say the least.

Okay, let me stop harping on last night's halftime show ... Moving on (because I could probably go on forever), today is Bob Marley's birthday!

(6 February 1945 – 11 May 1981)
Source

He was more than just a reggae legend; he was a revolutionary.* His music, although it sounds like clever lyrics over a funky, Caribbean, ska beat, was wildly political. As the third world's first superstar musician, he used his notoriety to speak out against apartheid in Africa, and to be the voice of his people and black resistance. I think that maybe too often, people associate the memory of Bob Marley with lazy days and ganja smoke; but they neglect to honor the memory of what he fought for and believed in. People have managed to commercialize him, effectively softening his militancy, and thus, not truly honoring his legacy. In the book Reggae and Caribbean Music, author Dave Thompson addresses this issue as such:

Today's Black History Month Tribute goes to Bob Marley, the militant revolutionary, the Rastafari, the original Tuff Gong. So, Get Up, Stand Up, put your lighters up, and t'row on I Shot the Sherriff; let's give this man the props he deserves.

*He was also a bit of a philanderer, with a total of 11 children (acknowledged on the official website; there may be more). Only 3 were with his wife, Rita. Fun-filled fact of the day:  in 1972 alone, he fathered three children, who were all born within a month of each other. Bloodclot! Ya boi got around, yunno? Talk about Kinky Reggae.