Wednesday, January 19

ART BREW'S DAILY: NEWS THAT STAYS NEWS. January 10 - March 19. In progress. Brew calls his book BREW'S NEWS: NEWS THAT ISN'T FIT FOR THE MAINSTREAM MEDIA TO PRINT, but 60 pages into the book he sees that that is too simplistic. They aren't "not fit to print" because of their content. They are not fit to print because of their form. Brew has found his form, the creative nonfiction bylined column novel, avec appendixes, mingled in. Ezra Pound said literature is news that stays news. On errands of life, Brew's columns end up in the Dead Letter Office. They are not fit to print. Oh, well. Brew publishes them at The Daily Bulletin. He is a contented online writer. He changes the name of his book to BREW'S NEWS: NEWS THAT STAYS NEWS, and names the pieces from p. 60 on "Brew's Literature." It might not be literature. But that's what Brew intends. Then he changes it to ART BREW’S DAILY: NEWS THAT STAYS NEWS.

Point and Shoot, Florida (YU)--Brew went to McKenzie Park on Monday to celebrate Martin Luther King Day. He was looking forward to eating some soul food, like you could get on Sweet Auburn Avenue, near Dr. King's church, and Martin Luther King National Historic Site.

Brew had been there with the Diversity Council at work.

Except for one member of management, and one white woman, Brew was the only white person on the Diversity Council, then, because the black people ran white men off, except the member of management, whom they could not run off, and the woman, who was not a threat. Usually they ran them off during the diversity training class, which used an approach called aggressive multiculturalism, in which all the racial ills of American society were blamed on white people, past and present, with their ingrained racism, which they could not get past.

Believe this, all they had in McKenzie Park was hamburgers and hot dogs, some fried fish they were advertising as mullet, grouper, and brim, which looked to Brew like pond-raised tilapia, and store-bought cakes, still in the Winn-Dixie wrapper.

The kickoff to the festivities, the Mayor of Panama City, who is white, said a few words, then the School Superintendent, who is black, said a few words, then a white guy, a Republican, got up and said that two days ago, on Saturday, in the Martin Luther King parade, he had walked side by side with black leaders in a historic first, and that it would be the first of many more such joint efforts, as black leaders joined with Republicans to move into the 21st Century, together, pals, me and you are pals--huh, Spike?

That was it. No Democrat to say, "We were with you during the Freedom Marches, we were with you during Civil Rights, we were with you while the Republicans were saying you weren't responsible enough to vote, that if we let you play your music on the radio you'd be dating white women next, and that you'd look like fools in baggy pants and your hat on sideways using street language better men than you died to keep out of civil discourse."

Brew walked around to all the vendors' booths.

He finally got a link sausage sandwich that was overcooked. Hard as a rock. And they had no hot sauce for it, only ketchup, mustard, and pickle relish.

Huh?

No colored preachers, no choirs, no modern dance troupe.

Brew was disappointed. Gastronomy has sunk into a desuetude.

Point and Shoot, Florida (YU)--Martin Luther King's Birthday, January 17, kicks off Black History Monty, February 1 - 28.

The two greatest contributions America has made to world civilization are jazz and flush toilets, and a black man invented both of them. Then a white guy stole them from him. At least a white guy stole the flush toilet.

Jazz has been stolen back, by Albert Murray, Stanley Crouch, and Wynton Marsalis, who consider any jazz played after Art Blakey "Jazz Messenger" licks an offshoot, and a step in the wrong direction.

They are neoclaccisists, and are to jazz as neoconservatives are to conservatives.

Ask Ornette Coleman, Albert Alyler, people like that. Cecil Taylor.

Bobby Bradford said, "If a guy walked in here carrying a Coke bottle I wouldn't laugh until I heard him play it."

If anybody between Fats, Clifford, and Diz and the younger generation, coming up, is a jazz master it's Bobby Bradford.

But what do I know? I am white. I not only can't play it, I can't appreciate it.

From little oafs big ofays grow.

I joined the Jazz Journalists Association and all I got was this T-shirt.