Mindspill If you listen to NPR ½ as much as I do then I know you know what a Driveway Moment is. If you are not in the know; a driveway moment is when you’re driving home or elsewhere, listening to a story on NPR. Suddenly, you find yourself in your driveway (or parking space or parking garage). Rather than turn the radio off, you stay in your car to hear the piece to the end.

Over the years I have had several Driveway Moments & quite often Suite Suzy will peek into the garage to see if I am OK because my moments can get long.

So anyway, I was vending Quench Essentials today @ a Mother’s Day Brunch & Pamper Party in Detroit & while on the way there I had a Freeway Moment.

I am describing a Freeway Moment to be a point during drive time when you are engrossed in thought & taken over by the music & it causes you to take a serious look at life in general & your being. (Damn I hope this makes since.)

During this my first recorded Freeway Moment I was exiting the Southfield Freeway @ 8 Mile when traffic basically came to a crawl as I was listening to Joy Denalane’s “Stranger In This Land”.

I have heard this song countless times but this time was a little different because the words were took me to another place & I started seeing her story of the African Diaspora as if I was watching something on the big screen.

The first verse of the song/story is what stood out most to me & I actually played the song back to back so that I could “watch the story again” in my mind. This first verse actually reads in the spirit in an Enslaved African narrative, which can sometimes can provoke tears.

I was the daughter of a little known king
When they came and put me in a castle
My eyes had never seen
They spoke in tongues I’ve never heard
They took me to the sea at the edge of the earth
I journyed tempest waters, reached these distant shores
My clothes are tattered and my soul is worn
I bore a daughter in captivity
They came late one night to take her away from me
I cried and I cried, oh lord have mercy on me
Can’t they see, that little girl is royalty

I held my ground and took my stand
Can’t help feeling sometimes
That I’m a stranger in this land
In this land of mine

Stranger In This Land – Joy Denalane

During & after the song, I also considered the strength of my OUR people & felt proud to be a descendant of Kings & Queens. Let’s face it; the princess that Joy sings about can be anyone of out great-great-great-greats (depending on how old yo’ ass is).

Moving on, this pamper party that I worked at was pretty decent & I made some mad money that I will be reinvesting to prepare for the Detroit Buy Black Weekend in a few weeks. This is a major event & I’m looking forward to it & hopefully getting PAID for my wonderful wares.

When I got to the event location, I was hungry as hell & the smell of fried chicken was thick in the air & made my hunger even worse cuz, I knew it would be a while before I could get my eat on.

Shortly after I got my table set up, the event organizer sent me a plate of 4 wings & two huge waffles. When I saw the waffles, I laughed at myself inside because this would be my 1st time having chicken & waffles.

Before for I started to eat & went to get some syrup for the waffles & they lucking had my favorite on hand (Mrs Butterworth). So now I am pouring the syrup over my waffles & happed to notice that there was a big ass bottle of Alaga on the table & I burst out laughing. Mindspill Mindspill

The event organizer as me what was funny & since she was on the “urban side” I told her that I was laughing at the Alaga syrup, then she started to laugh & said she got it for the old school crowd. The funny thing is that we both got it.

As I was walking back to my table ready to throw down, I was like shit, I have not had any Alaga since the mid to late 80’s when Topot (my little bother & this is his nick name) & I took a stand against our mother at the grocery store & told her that we wanted Mrs Buttersworth. She gave in & we never had Alaga in the house again.

To wrap, today was a day of first 1) my Freeway Moment & 2) the chicken & waffles, which was off the hook. In the words of the “poet” Ice Cube “I got to say it was a good day; shit!”
Chicken & Waffles History:

The exact origins of the dish are unknown. A restaurant named the Wells Supper Club in Harlem claims to be the birthplace of chicken and waffles; their official slogan is “Wells: Home of Chicken and Waffles Since 1938.” Supposedly, the Wells Supper Club started selling the chicken and waffles dish to patrons of their club in 1938, which was during the Jazz Age; the dish served as a late-night snack for those patrons who wanted a meal that would serve as both dinner for that night and breakfast for the next day.

Some historians, however, believe the dish goes back even further – perhaps even as far back as the late 19th century, when Southern African-Americans, recently freed from slavery, began migrating to the Northern United States. According to author John T. Edge: “My guess is that it comes from the days when someone would go out in the morning and wring a chicken’s neck and fry it for breakfast. Preparing a breakfast bread with whatever meat you have on the hoof, so to speak, comes out of the rural tradition.”

From Harlem, chicken and waffles was brought across the country to Los Angeles by Herb Hudson, who founded Roscoe’s House of Chicken ‘n Waffles in the mid 1970s. It’s believed, although unprovable, that Hudson and his friend Roscoe (whose full name is unknown) had moved to Southern California from New York to open their restaurant in Hollywood. (Source | Wikipedia)