Sweet Goodbyes in Clarksdale

Well folks...my Mississippi time clock is ticking and I say goodbye to Clarksdale tomorrow.  I've gone and returned now three times throughout this pilgrimage and every time I come to this blues zone I can hear the heartbeat of the blues and feel the weight of poverty everywhere I look.  The people of Clarksdale are like Waldron...salt of the earth folks but if you don't smoke or drink alcohol it'd be pretty hard to fit in.  Turns out I've smoked my share of cigars and drank my share of scotch on this trip so it has illicited a relaxed vibe in me.  I like that...being on Clarksdale time...but I just couldn't live here for any length.  The more you know the town the MORE you KNOW the town if you know what I mean.

The top photo is of the Delta Blues Museum, a cool place run by a great woman, Shelley Ritter, who helped me write the Alberta Creative Development Initiative proposal.  It is essentially Muddy Waters driven as his is the Godfather of the Blues and a local hero.  They actually have his log house inside the museum all preserved and such.  It's worth the trip just for that.  

The next two photos are of Morgan Freeman's juke called Ground Zero.  You may have seen some inside photos on the Watermelon Slim photos.  Anyhow, Mo'n Free'an, as it's said in Clarkdale accent, is a local hero and really why shouldn't he be.  He has done a great deal to help this community and to help in preserving the blues heartland.  His efforts are likely paving the way for increased tourism which will really help the Clarksdale economy.  Inside this juke are literally thousands of signatures from patrons all over the world.  It has become Mecca for blues fans and tours are being arranged from New Orleans and Memphis to highlight the attributes of this community as well as forward the importance of blues music.

Then there's true blue authentic Red's Juke.  I played in this juke a couple weeks back.  It is everything you'd imagine an urban juke to be...dim lighting, bbq smoked, red lights hanging off plastic covered insulation and bring your own hard liquor.  Prior to leaving on this trip I read a book on 'Black-White' relations to understand my role in being a good communicator within the Black American communities.  One of the great things I learned was how the word 'rap' is a phrase that describes 'talkin' to you with a sense of humor'.  There are all different kinds of ways to rap but they are usually filled with one liners.  Men usually try their 'rap' consistently with women and I had prepared some one liners to respond as it is considered insulting to be silent and walk by.  It is actually a sign of disrespect.  Anyhow, I practiced in front of the mirror before I left just in case I needed to be quick on my feet.  Well, Red, the owner, rapped on me the afternoon before I played his juke.  It went like this...

Sunflower Avenue, I'm walkin' the north side of the avenue trying not to get noticed and there are three buddies smokin' up some pork on the BBQ outside Red's.  I knew right away that one of them would rap on me to try to impress their buddies.  

Red yells across the street:

"Hey Mama why don't you come over here I'm a player and I need to practice?"

Kat stops and looks.

Red says again:

"Come on baaaabbbbyyy...don't disrespect me...I'm a player and I need to do some practice"

Kat then says with ease and humor:

"Baby, if you a player you must have the lose in es game in town!"

Red throws his hands up in the air and his buddies are killing themselves laughing because Red's just been out rapped.

And, you know, I came into his gig about 10 hours later and even though we hadn't met (he'd just seen me across the avenue) and he was totally hammered...he opened his eyes to full on slits and said "hey baby, you dat woman from this afternoon" then he nodded and went back to snooze mode.

Oh yeah baby!

Kat