Claudette who? Colvin. She’s the black teenager who preceded Rosa Parks by almost a year in asking to be treated with respect and equality. Same scenario; a bus seat. Same place; Montgomery, Alabama. She was cuffed and transported to a jail cell, which, for a good student with no previous trouble with the law, was pretty scary. For various reasons the NAACP chose to publicize Ms. Parks case over hers. (More wiki-info here)

 Her crime: a front-of-the-bus refusal to give up her seat to a white person in 1955. Uppity in the first degree. Book ‘em Danno. Seems crazy now, but it was so entrenched then that it was sacred Jim Crow tradition (and [unconstitutional] law) in a South that is still emerging from a duality that’s always been tough to address head-on. Non strident and considered, The Bitter Southerner is doing some cool work on that and is a Deep South voice gaining in readership.

 I was more concerned with street racing than race relations as a teen. I wasn’t into current events, but I did question authority. The Man. Nothing nearly so valid or far-reaching as Ms. Colvin’s dispute, however. Read the NPR story about her here—it’s worth the time. The reason I lead off with her is her birthday was September 5th. And she remembers the incident like it was yesterday. Her case went before The Supreme Court. Heck of a milestone.

 Milestone two. Charlie Parker’s 100th birthday was August 29th and it’s celebrated worldwide, but also, of course, right here in Kansas City where he’s buried. It was to have been a blowout the likes of which the Jazz District hasn’t seen since the Pendergast days, but covid stole top billing. No fireworks or food trucks or porta-potties or tents everywhere. That was just a gleam in the city fathers’ billfold and it was not to be.

 A quieter tradition that started some years ago involves an esteemed KC jazz musician, David Basse, and a friend in Japan, Yoko Takemura, jazz fashion correspondent for Jazz Tokyo. She sends flowers in time for Bird’s birthday, David picks them up, puts them at the memorial site, takes a phone pic at sunrise, and sends it to her. He says, “On August 29th, I arrived about 5:50am and set the flowers in front of the Bird Memorial at 18th and Vine. Then I snapped a quick shot on my phone at sunrise. It was a sensational, calm morning.”

 Later, at the actual graveside, the segregated Lincoln cemetery in Blue Summit, David said, “... by noon, high noon, as Alaadeen has always stressed, I made it to the cemetery, less than a mile from my house in East KC. The party had begun before I’d arrived. I believe the non-event was a spontaneous affair. Folks had brought a couple of 78-record players, a couple of dogs, chickens, flowers, musical instruments and the regalia of many factions. There was even a small speaker system broadcasting Bird 78’s... they sounded fantastic.”

 And so, Charlie Parker’s 100th birthday was in the books. RIP, even though he’d rather have been buried in NY. More about the acknowledged bebop genius here.

 Milestone three. Lawrence Ferlinghetti. He wrote another book last year at age 100. “Follow that!” said some fans. “Okay,” said Lawrence. Just a couple of weeks ago he opened his first one-man painting show in NYC. Born in 1919 during the Spanish Flu Pandemic, he just celebrated his 101st birthday during this current Covid-19 pandemic.

 The show, Etudes, continues at New Release Gallery in Manhattan’s Chinatown through October 2, 2020. One is reminded of his poem Sometime During Eternity, as eternity is where he seems rooted as a Supreme Court case winning activist, monumental poet, acclaimed artist, lively bookstore proprietor, banned books proponent, constantly accomplishing supertalent.

 I know what he did for me back in the 1950’s—opened my knucklehead mind to poetry and the arts, starting a lifelong appreciation for that and constantly questioning the “conventional wisdom” of then and now. Following the crowd is not in him. Standing ovation from Resume Speed, Kansas, sir. What an inspiration you were and are and will always be!