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Tuesday, January 24, 2012

The State of Black Music

I was 15 at the time when my dad decided that he wanted to have a impromptu heart to heart while sitting in his caroutside of his house.  I was visiting him for the summer in his home of Harrisburg, which is about 100 miles away from my home base of Philadelphia.  Since I only got to see my father once or twice a year, he was taken aback by a number of changes I had undergone since our last visit. At that age, we were virtual strangers to each other. He couldn’t understand my style of dress, my choice of slang and why I chose to sit in the house instead of  going out and, in his words, do something.  However, his lecture for that early evening zeroed in on my taste of music.

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