Author: Ernie McCray

I went to see Sir Paul the other night. Talking about Mr. McCartney. As in Fab Four. And all I can say is Wow!

I love the dude and that love was further solidified, intensified, and personalized, in particular, one moment, when I found myself completely into the moment, with my head laid back, swaying as Paul in an aging, yet still eloquently and deeply expressive one of a kind voice, sang:

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

I’m sitting writing on a day that can’t decide whether it wants to be sunny or gray, a day about three days past the day that the world was to come to an end and it’s a rather nice day, by the way.

But I can surely identify with a doomsday. My children and I woke up one day, just living our lives pretty comfortably, no shining ups, particularly, or dim lows, and before the day had bid us goodbye the world as we had known it was snatched from beneath us with the swiftness and fierceness of lightning in a storm ridden sky – and all we could do was cry. On July 22nd of 2009 we lost our precious valentine, an amazing mother, a beautiful sexy brilliant artistic athletic incredible 62 year old human being I loved referring to as mine.

The Mesa College Theatre Company, working with the San Diego Black Ensemble and Vagabond Theatre Project, is producing a series of staged readings, “Pioneers and the Journey: A Festival of African American Plays” to explore the African American Experience – an experience in and of itself based on my experiences within the experience, experiencely speaking if there is such a term (big smile)

I was just thinking about all the nice moments I’ve enjoyed in life and a little time I spent in Tucson last week ranks up there among the mellower of the refreshing respites from the troubles of the world I’ve had the pleasure of taking part in.

First of all I was in my hometown and that’s always enjoyable, not to mention that I was there for a very special event, wearing the lofty title of “guest speaker,” which I took to mean I was to have a good time so that’s what I did. Why not, I was around some of my favorite people: a bunch of folks wearing sunny smiles…

Posing in a picture on the desktop of my iMac are some of the most brilliant people I’ve ever known, members of MEChA, a Chicano student organization at Mission Bay High led by Luis Villanueva, a remarkable educator who constantly seeks ways to create learning experiences that are relevant to their lives. Each of them is a budding community leader and exemplary American citizen.

Thoughts Stimulated by a Historic High School Basketball Game

I was just looking through my scrapbooks and I came across two pictures of me playing high school basketball 55 years ago.

In one I was going in for an easy basket, a lay up, with my left arm shielding my defender from the play. In the other I’m springing high to win the opening tip of the same game, the first game in Pueblo High’s history. Their school building was still under construction, a few months shy of being done. We were housed in my school, Tucson High, the oldest public school in the state of Arizona.

Thoughts Stemming from Viewing “Precious Knowledge”

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the range of ethnicities in our country, of how all human beings innately identify with racial and cultural ties that go back ages and ages in our personal histories. Who we are was set in place in ancient times. It’s natural, the way its supposed to be.

But somehow in the mix some human beings decide that their ethnicity is the ultimate of ethnicities and looks at others fearfully and fitfully.

Hey, Jihmye, I send these words directly to you because I know based on your Baha’i faith that although you’re no longer here carrying on with us physically your journey has not come to an end.

But, oh, what an existence your earth bound life has been, my friend. From the beginning to the end. Dropping out of school early, fleeing Dixie in Uncle Sam’s army, blessing all within your reach with your art and your poetry and your very presence. To me you were like a breath of fresh air in a world that can, without reason or rhyme, be so suffocating and crushing at times.

Every time I hear someone who is anti-gay use the tired and sorry modern day cliche: “God meant Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve,” I think back to how it was instilled in me as a child that “God is love.” So I cannot even imagine a God who would be complicit which such un-Godly ways of thinking.

Sometimes when I look at our species, at the things we do, the wars, the isms, the way we so easily cast aside opportunities to better our lives, I wonder are our brains fried? Have we no spiritual pride? Have we no natural instincts imbedded inside our hearts and souls that can lead us to be more loving towards each other and act as our moral guide?

Aren’t we aware that our children are watching at our side and they, like other animals, cannot survive if they don’t see a model for how they should live their lives?

On April 15th there will be a “National Day of Silence” during which hundreds of thousands of students nationwide will…

Recently I sat and wrote and chatted with some of the coolest people alive. No jive. Most of them happen…