Master CraftsMon - Aired Monday, December 12, 2005 at about 11pm CST - Segment 7

Master CraftsMon - Aired Monday, December 12, 2005 at about 11pm CST - Segment 7

I played a song by D’Goya called “I Go to Bed”. I was struck how blatant the sexuality is in the tune. It doesn't leave any doubt that the woman in the song is yearning to have sex with the guy in her life... BUT there seems to be more to it than just the sex. Too many women are worrying about that problem. The radical feminists have stated that "a woman needs a man like fish needs a bicycle". Lo and behold women tried that and discovered that career and the go go life style was not for them. Over and over again you hear the story of a woman reaching her 30's and deciding that staying at home and raising kids IS a good way to spend her time. People, we live and then we die. It's crazy to live up to other people's expectations. If you as a woman feel that a career outside the home suck then you should be willing to walk away from it and enjoy your life as you want it to go. The cries of your friends telling you that you're wasting yourself is nothing compared to the cries of joy from your children. Yeah, I know, there ARE a lot of women who get off to being corporate leaders. I say, "more power to you", BUT there should also be a place for women who disagree and want to stay home and raise kids. In short, the corporate women should be able to respect the choices of the soccer mom and the soccer mom should be able to respect the choices of the corporate woman.

Anyway. There's another song I want written. It's kind of a weird one because it crosses two genres. For it to work, it has to be a Black guy and a Black woman. The Black guy sings the song in NASTY rap and hiphop lyrics and beat and instrumentals. The Black woman sings her song in Blues lyrics and beat and instruments. Getting the two styles to meld would be a real challenge.

The scene for the music video... I don't know the background images... I mean, I know it's a bar or a party or some social gathering place, but where, I cannot see. The woman is dressed in a high class clothes. Stylish without bling bling rings. It shows she is educated and has bought the stuff herself. The guy...aht... I don't know how rappers dress... Probably lots of flash... rings on every finger... gold chains around his neck... maybe a gun peaking out from underneath his garish coat.

The guy comes on strong. The lyrics... don't what they are, but he says in essence, "Honey, have sex with me. I am the best in bed you ever had. You come with me and you will never regret it." The woman says back mournfully, "We have never met, but I know you. I've met a thousand like you. All flash and nothing underneath. Yeah, you're probably great for a one night stand, but I've had enough. The darkness next to the ceiling is driving me crazy. I want more. I want to wake up in the morning and know you won't be gone. I want more than the pleasure of the night." The guy goes a bit nuts and says, "Are you CRAZY? My God, woman, I've had women BEG me to go to bed with them. Here I'm doing you a favor. What is it? You want me to buy you a dress or a ring? What? You got to know that the darkness next to the ceiling will just disappear when the light flashes off diamonds." The woman shakes her head and smiles sadly and says, "I've met too many men like you. You haven't grown up. You still want to play games. You still want to be a child. I have children. They need a father. I need a husband. I don't need another man to wander through my house. I need someone there to help my children with their home work. To help with the laundry. To be there when I cry. I don't need another night of pleasure, I need a MAN to get rid of the darkness next to the ceiling." The guy gets mad and shows his gun and says, "I'm a man... Why don't you think I am. This darkness next to the ceiling... Of course I can get rid of it... How can you say such a thing?" The woman says, "Guns are just another toy for boys like you. Being able to kill and maim doesn't make you a man. Taking responsibility for yourself and me and any kids you father... That's what makes a man, a man. The flash of a gunshot will NOT get rid of the darkness next to the ceiling." In a hardcore rapper video he would kick her ass for hurting his feelings. In this one somehow she has to best him. I wish it could be done without violence, but I don't see how it could be done in a rap video. Even though this song would only be half rap. The ending scene has the woman walk away unscathed and going home to her kids. The guy goes home to lay in the dark and stare at the darkness next to the ceiling. So does the woman, but it has to be different from the guy. The idea is that the woman accepts the darkness next to the ceiling as the price of getting her life in order.

What I am getting at here is that Blacks have really screwed up. Between 60% and 70% of all Blacks are now born out of wedlock. That's pretty awful. Black women who get an education are finding it really hard to find a husband with a comparable set of education, because too many Black males drop out of high school. It's not even the education that's the problem. Black women are just finding it hard to find a guy who will stick around long enough to pay the rent much less raise their kids assuming they CAN pay the rent. Despite what you have heard no woman wants to marry a guy who can't pay the rent. It's a very low thresh hold, but it's getting too hard for Black females to find. Something has got to change. The songs that explore this problem do not exist. The educated Black women are just so damned upset with their menfolk, yet you hear all these love songs that make a virtue of great sex. Where are the songs saying that the women are fed up with irresponsible, childish males?

Somehow or another the Great Society was going to free Blacks from poverty. Instead it has roped them into a cycle of government dependency that cannot be easily be broken. I'm going to be thinking about that. I'll be sharing my thoughts on that as they come to me. Check my blog occasionally.