Nine years old

Quiet After The Storm; Dianne Reeves, vocal

I admired First Lady Hillary Clinton’s adage that “It takes a village to raise a child.” She’s right, of course. I think, however, that Mrs. Clinton presented the image of a small child surrounded by a teacher, a nurse, a doctor, a librarian, a fireman, a milkman, a grocer, a coach, a sanitation person, a construction worker, a cook, a gas station attendant, a taylor, a brother, a sister, a grandmother, a grandfather, a Mommy and a Daddy.

My vision of Mrs. Clinton’s “village” aphorism comes from a more organic perspective. In our little town of Bruce, during my adolescent years, if my behavior belied the proper upbringing my parents provided, virtually nobody in our “village” would hesitate to alert me to the inappropriate nature of my actions. At the same time, they wouldn’t shirk from the opportunity to have a little playtime with our town’s children.

My Aunt Gladys would always get down on the floor to play with us nieces, nephews, grandnieces and grandnephews whenever we asked her to come play with us. She listened to us – and quickly deciphered the essence and character of the game in play. She was one of us. She was in.

In the song “Nine”, track eight on Dianne Reeves’ album “Quiet After The Storm”, the fine jazz singer brings the playful demeanor and disposition of a nine-year-old to a lively and bustling 7/4 meter, a highly difficult feat to pull off. Yet with the innocence and exuberance of a young one who just does without thinking of how or why, Ms Reeves traipses about within this rocking and funky groove like a natural … runnin’ … jumpin’ … skippin’ … and laughin’ …

I remember nine

As if it were yesterday

I can hear my friends outside of my window

Say, “Can you come out and play?”

Anna brought a bag of her mama’s cooking spoons

So we could dig a hole, to try to reach China

And get there by early noon.

_____

Our imaginations soared on golden wings

Across a sky filled with dreams

Any child could wear a paper crown

And be a king or queen …

… At nine …

_____

I remember days of playing without a care

Then coming home with sniffles and clothes hanging off me

With leaves in my hair

Everybody’s child belonged to the neighborhood

You could tell your troubles to old Aunt Savannah

Cause she always understood

_____

Running endless through a field

Of emerald green beneath a broad open sky

I will treasure all my days when

I was innocent and free …

… At nine …

When D. and I were very young, we decided all by ourselves that we would ride the trike and pull the wagon to the neighbor’s house a half of a mile to the east to have a few hours’ play time with our pal R. After we arrived, anxious for the adventures to begin, Mrs. H. quickly and suddenly put us, the trike and the wagon into the station wagon to drive us home. We had behaved, apparently, in an inappropriate manner.

Credits: To E. H., our neighbor to the east for bring us home. Thanks.

This, dear reader, is the first of my final forty-five CD's. I've saved the best for last and I'm on the home stretch!