White people: this air is too spicy
Cornelius wrote, produced, and hosted “Soul Train,” which was an antidote to Dick Clark, who, by the time “Soul Train” hit the air, had grown to feel so tired. Who could dance to that music? Cornelius was a race man. He liked looking at people of color, and their differences, and you could see the high his musical guests got off that young crowd, and their Afro puffs, and beautifully tailored jackets, and youth, and serious vibrancy. It was always especially interesting to watch white performers like David Bowie on the show. (When he introduced him, Cornelius mispronounced his last name as BOW-ee. No matter. In Cornelius’ mouth, it sounded better.) “Soul Train” dancers always worked with rock rhythms, trying to find its basis—soul—beneath the snare drums and overly abundant verbiage. These were the cultural schisms one looked forward to on the show, along with the shouts of encouragement the kids issued when rock and roll made an effort to get over its lazy impulse to segregate and showed up and was respectful of its different audience. Don Cornelius protected such moments by adopting an especially avuncular stance while introducing their performances. These people may not want us in the real world, his manners and care seemed to say, but that was O.K., they were only passing through, it was his house, the point was the children.
Poor, vulnerable and without family resources, the curious death of this woman has not even registered on the public’s radar. Neither the caretaker, her employment agency nor the agency that coordinated care has commented. The Philly Police said her death “does not appear suspicious,” and the Medical Examiner’s Office has not yet issued an official cause of death. There are unanswered questions: How did she get from the department store to the cars? (Her mother says she was nonverbal, incapable of walking that far or negotiating public transportation). How did her shirt get removed? (Her mother says she lacked the ability to remove it). Why was she taken to a crowded, unsecured location in the first place? And, disturbingly, is her mother right? “No one cares about my daughter,” said Patricia Sankey. “She was poor, she was disabled. She was not going to set the world on fire. But she was my world.”
This story has been updated to change the genre of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. They are not indie. Bands that perform at the Super Bowl and have large record deals cannot hold that title. We regret the error.
I’ve never been to Africa, but I feel like I have this deep affinity for it,” Ms. Hanley Mellon said. “I’ve read every Hemingway, we collect Peter Beard, I’ve watched ‘Out of Africa.’ It touches your soul to visit and smell the smells, and you can’t recreate the experience without immersing yourself.
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