Etta got beef.

As a big fan of Etta James, I would like to offer her some support on this matter.
First of all, Etta James’ comments were not made as an official statement of disgust, but rather a playful joke that she shared with a private audience - the majority of whom were in enthusiastic agreement with her views.

The reason Barack Obama’s inauguration was such a monumental event was because it represented something very profound, an epic story that spanned the entirety of American history - the struggle of black people in America. The election of Obama was a testament to the power of persistance. It was a reward to the black people of America who have suffered through generations of vicious racism, inhuman degradation, segregation, abuse, violence and deprivation of virtually every kind.

Hence why ‘At Last’ was such am ironically suiting tribute to the Obamas. Not only is it a romantic tune, but its title is clearly meant to indicate something more profound than the subject of the song itself (the ecstacy of finding true love). For African Americans, it means no more deprivation, no more silence, no more sanctioned brutality, no more second class citizenship..at last.

Enter Etta James (born Jamesetta Hawkins, January 25, 1938 for the uninformed, brainwashed 25-and-unders that constitute the majority of the Beyoncé supporters in this contrived controversy). Etta James was born to a 13-year old mother and a still-undetermined father in South Central L.A. She was abandoned by her mother (a prostitute), and witnessed the tragic death of her caretaker at an early age. Her teens were defined by stints at reform schools, rough street gangs, dropping out of high school, and eventually falling into the grip of hard drugs - where she would remain for the next three decades.

Her musical career, although successful, was characterized by intense addictions to heroin and cocaine, a string of severley abusive partners, inumerable prison sentences, and most importantly of all, heinous racism. A young black woman touring the Southern U.S. in the late 50s and 60s was virtual suicide. She has been held at gunpoint for being black. She has been abused by everyone from police officers to drug dealers simply for being a vulnerable negro woman in an unfriendly climate. In fact, if there is one woman who can testify to the hideousness of racism in 20th-Century America, it is Ms. Jamesetta Hawkins.

Ms. Hawkins not only paved the way for generations of female singers to come, but took all the heavy blows (literally!) of an oppressive society so that singers like Beyoncé wouldn’t have to. She cushioned an entire generation of young women from the ugly monster that is american prejudice. With the help of her peers like Aretha Franklin and Nina Simone, she helped desensitize the american public from the unspeakable image of a powerful negro woman holding her own ground in front of a mic or behind a piano. Like her counterparts, she was never praised for her looks, (and certainly not for her feminine charisma - something she admittedly lacked), which proved to audiences that an impressive rack was useless without an equally impressive vocal range.

Fastforward to 2009. Barack Obama takes the stage to dance with his wife as the first black couple to ever see the inside of the Oval office (except for Colin Powell, Condoleezza Rice and countless janitors).

Beyoncé Knowles. Beautiful. Youthful. A warm, melodic voice. An admiral role model for young women. A smart business woman and impressive performer. The daugther of a successful record executive and fashion designer. Grew up in a middle class neighbourhood in Texas. Attended a number of performance arts schools, and eventually gained stardom after an appearance on Star Search. Beyoncé’s beauty and vivaciousness catapulted her to stardom, first as a member of Destiny’s Child and eventually as a solo performer. Apart from her admitted temporary struggle with depression, Beyoncé has experienced minimal turmoil in her personal life. She has a number of endorsements and has been in a stable relationship with Shawn Carter (aka Jay-Z) for a number of years. She is considered by many to be the ideal idol - beautiful, vivacious, confident, healthy, talented and smart.

Which of these icons, then, would you choose as the ideal candidate to pay tribute to Barack Obama? Beyoncé? What kind of a testament would that be to the great American legacy? A sorry one, if you ask me. It doesn’t demonstrate any ideological progression, any indication of social development. All it shows is that people want to see young, beautiful people, fuck the story behind it.
And it is just this attitude that put a chip on Etta’s 71-year-old shoulder. Not only was ‘At Last’ her signature song, and not only was it the perfect choice to pay tribute to Obama and the legacy that he represented, but Etta James is living, breathing (albeit, barely) proof that one can struggle and stride, hang on by a thread thinner than a life support tube (which she did after being beaten nearly to death by a boyfriend), bounce from one jailcell to another and get spat on by the monster of racism, and still live to sing about it.
Fuck, I’d whoop the bitches’ ass too.

Dear IPOD Thief.....

Our first encounter was on Spain's Costa Del Sol. Somehow you managed to slither your sticky fingers into my backpack, dodging the watchful guard of my trustworthy friends and jetting off into the Valencia sunset with my cherished Shuffle (not to mention half my CD collection, as well as my wallet and, oh yeah, my identity).

Our paths crossed again on a dirtroad in rural Thailand. In a remarkable display of sneakiness, you managed to snatch up my Nano with the flick of a hand (and the agility of a mountain lion), your identity concealed by the cloud of dirt that ensued from my very minor moped accident. Later that evening I heard the familiar sound of Mary J. Blige's 'Be Happy' emanating from somewhere within the Thai jungle, and I twitched with anger. (I know that was you.)

And now I find myself in Toronto, mourning the loss of yet another Nano. My ears are beginning to miss the comfort of headphones. My finger tips long to tap to the kicked back rhythm of Billie Holiday remixes, or Nina Simone's House of the Rising Sun (Have you had a chance to listen to that one yet? It's on my playlist, right after 'Out of My Head' by Fastball)

You have now joined the ranks of the lowest form of vermin on the planet, IPOD thief. Congrats.

God, I hate you