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Making 'Em Wanna Holler: Maxwell

There's something to be said about a man who can go on for 5-6 minutes with dead certainty about all the things he wants do to a woman to leave her twisted out, begging for more. There's even more to be said when a sold out crowd comprised of mostly women of every shade and ethnicity (my wife included) is letting out blood curdling screams to affirm every word he says. Even more when a woman in the second row of the New Jersey Performing Arts Center stands up out of her seat, reaches beneath her dress, takes off her blue panties (yeah, I was watching from not too far behind) and throws throws them on stage at the man.

[Interesting to note: I knew a few people there - a college buddy who recently proclaimed herself a "Maxwell Groupie" didn't have a ticket but somehow managed to get a seat closer to the stage than I did. I just learned the panty-tosser was someone I happen to know also through the blogosphere. Several of my wife's friends were scattered throughout the theater going crazy, as well. This world is just too damn small.]

That was my night last night at NJPAC's Maxwell concert.

If you've never heard the man sing, well he can sing his a#$ off. I remember when he first hit the scene, my best friend remarked, "Why's he rollin' all around on the floor like that? He's a freak!" referring to the video for his song Ascension. I think she was in love with him two days later and has been ever since. A breakout artist from the mid-90's I've been to all his concerts and although last night was really, really good, nothing beats his first tour when I saw him at Radio City Music Hall. The show opened with Zhane (pronounced "jah-nay") and he had this staircase stage thingy going on. He began his show silhouetted with his back to the audience. I thought I was going to pass out. Not because I was in love with him (although I'm not above the occasional man-crush) but because the energy that emanated from this man before his show even began was immeasurable. Plus, the white, Paul Smith suit he was wearing was bananas, meaning insane, meaning on point, meaning if you had the balls to rock a tailored white suit, that was it.

Last night Maxwell did a couple of things that stayed with me. He kept telling everyone he loved them. He encouraged anyone in the audience who's trying to accomplish their dreams to keep trying. He also thanked everyone for being so receptive to his passion for making good music. He went on to thank us for allowing him to share it with us.

How inspiring is that?

These last few days have been very tough for me. My battle with the unemployment blues has turned ugly as this monster that faces me everyday has gotten considerably stronger and merciless in his dealings with me. It's not about money (it is, but it isn't). I'm fending off self-destructive thoughts that are beginning to tear down my self-esteem brick by brick and keep my frozen in my tracks --- depressed and unable to do any of the things I want and need to do.

Even though I wrote about Maxwell in the post, 'Til The Cops Come Knockin' over at BlackAndMarriedWithKids.com today, I decided to write about Maxwell here because about an hour ago the desire to write overcame me. My writing has never been about me. I sit down in front of a piece of paper or a keyboard and minutes later something's is down for me to edit. Beyond the physical I can't take credit for my words, the inspiration comes so fast and intense that it can only be the hand of God, my higher power, resting on my shoulder (or my bald head). There are days that I grumble that I don't make a thin dime or even a red penny off these posts that I churn out like pastries in a bakery. But it's not about me. I'm not even sure if it's about you the reader. This is one of the gifts God has given me, so while I have it, I'm honoring him by putting my best out there in this thing that I do.

I want to thank all of you who read here. Thank you for subscribing (if you subscribe here). Thank you for your comments. Thank you for allowing me to share my occasional two cents with you. I also want to encourage you. If there's something that you love to do, and even the things you don't...do it to the best of your ability and with all your strength. There's really no reason not to. It's not about that boss, coworker or ungrateful client. It's about you and what you're putting into the universe.

You're guaranteed to go nowhere half-stepping it through life, but sky's the limit when you choose otherwise.

By the way, check out some of Maxwell's music below. If you've never heard of him and crooning is your thing, you'll love this guy.

Again, thank you.


Maxwells Urban Hang Suite

Picture Source: Denver Post

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