My dad and Stevie Wonder have a love/hate relationship. He's a year older than the soul singer, so it's rather weird hearing him talk about Stevie as if they were brothers, despite the fact that they have never met. Ever. But that's how it is with my family: we have beefs and issues with people we may have never met, all because of what they've either done musically and publicly.
Photo by Marco Torres Stevie Wonder at the 2011 ACL Music Festival
Wonder is a great, a legend whose music stands not only the test of time but who continues to work awards shows as if he were promoting a brand-new album. (He also turned 63 Monday.) From tribute shows to things that look like barbecue cookouts with the production budget of the VMAs, Stevie and his dreadlocks are there, behind the piano singing one of his classics.
Which brings me to this past Sunday, Mother's Day. My mom, who by and large enjoys more soul music at night than any woman alive, probably would have otherwise gone to Corpus Christi to see her cousins and hang out with her sister, who is her best friend by eons and eons and easily the most understandable person in my immediate family.
"What did you get your mom for Mother's Day?" he asked.
"Nothing," I told him.