My life has changed so much, for the better, since I began this blog (as a printed newsletter). In the old days I wasn't married, did not have a soon to be teen-age son, and I did not have to consider anyone else's feelings or concerns. (Sometimes I chose to do so.) Now I have all of those pluses and minuses. I am reminded of all the changes whenever I attend the Russell City Blues festival.
Back in the day I would have gotten up early enough to get a front row seat, walked to BART, and headed up to Cal State Hayward (where it was once held). I would have spent the day drinking decent beer, dancing, and reflecting on the good fortune of living in the Bay Area, having the opportunity to listen to the greatest Blues performers in the world for a few dollars. I lived a blessed life.
Contrast that with the life I live now. It was Saturday of a Blues festival day. Naturally I married a man who appreciated both Blues and Baseball. He got extra points for being introduced by our mutual friend Country Pete McGill as his "homeboy". I was even more impressed by his baseball knowledge. He was able to describe an at bat pitch by pitch. We have a wonderful son whom I have raised to experience both Blues and Baseball. Yet problems exist. After years of being together my husband was working rather than attending the Russell City Blues festival. (I try not to be judgmental, but I have always scheduled work around the Blues Festivals and Baseball.) That left me the choice of leaving our son at home with his computers, or taking him with me. You may wonder why this involved a decision at all. Of course I firmly believe that all children, especially African American children, should be educated about the Blues. It is just that I know what it takes to get my "tween" moving, or away from the computer. I would be lucky to arrive by 3:00 P.M.when my goal was 10:00 A.M. Another sacrifice for motherhood. I was still going to get to hear my Blues, just with limitations.
To make a long story not too long, we got there in time to witness Birdlegg's return to the Bay Area Blues stage. He still possesses the same energetic harp style and hyperactive interaction with the crowd that have made him so popular. He did and acknowledged a Carroll Peery song. This had the usual effect of getting people up and dancing while enjoying they enjoyed the lyrics. It was a great way to get my Blues fix. I wanted to hear "Meet Me On the Corner", but it was not to be. I got in a dance or two while my son ate the chicken, fish, shrimp, and funnel cake that made up two of his three dinners for the day. It was then time for Felton Crews & the Chicago Blues Kings.
I had not heard Felton Crews before. I was looking forward to seeing which version of Chicago style Blues this was. The description in the program hinted that it was post-Muddy Waters era. That is not my idea of Chicago style Blues. There were some good moments. They were skilled musicians and showmen and the music was good, but it felt more like jazz than Chicago style Blues. It was good music for line dancing so I got some exercise.
Finally it was time for Grady Champion. He is the young brother I had discovered (in the Columbus discovered America sense) at the festivals two years ago. It was great to see and hear him continuing the Blues tradition. He did a mixture of traditional Blues and his own original songs. I enjoyed a song from his soon to be released new CD before I was rewarded with his hit "Make That Monkey Jump". It is always good to hear young brothers play the harp. His voice, song writing, and down-to-earth means of interacting with the audience have added him to the short list of not to be missed performers. I can imagine myself in twenty years, when he is legendary, being able to say I knew him when. I suggest you take any opportunity presented to see this talented young man.
Russell City was a great show as always. The T-shirt this year features an artistic representation of the old club. I asked, since it is a little before my time, and it is accurate. I thought about Aunt Georgette (former owner) and missed her as always. I visited briefly with old friends. I had the pleasure of checking in with Ronnie and Birdlegg, and felt the presence of those who are no longer with us. As I took my son's picture with Alabama Mike and Country Pete I realized I had been attending the Russell City Blues festival for the entire fifteen years of its existence. I have been following the Blues my entire adult life. I now have the family with whom to share the experience. Unfortunately this year that meant missing Country Pete and Alabama Mike. I am consoling myself with the fact that I can see Alabama the third Sunday of the month at the Lakeside Club in Oakland.. I know I missed great shows. Back in the day, I would not have missed them. I did see some parts of a great show. I shared the experience with my son and long time friends. My life is still blessed.
Rev. Adwoa
Monday, July 14, 2014
Monday, July 15, 2013
Russell City Blues Festival 2013
Blues festival season began late this year. Instead of spending my birthday weekend at Monterey I focused on Baseball. The A's and the Pirates made me happy while the Giants did not. I survived the extra two weeks without a Blues festival. On Saturday morning I eagerly awoke and searched for the appropriate T-shirt. I decided on the classic Monterey Blues festival shirt instead of the Ron Thompson shirt. I got dressed and was ready to go. Unfortunately (and fortunately) I don't travel alone these days. Husband and son took another hour. We finally arrived in downtown Hayward shortly after 1:00 PM. I took a reasonable view, realizing that Ron Thompson and Sista Monica would not be on yet. They were a guaranteed show worth the $25. Anything else was just gravy.
I left my sleeping son in the car with his dad while I went in to the show. I had my gravy first, along with some ribs and an Italian ice.Then I enjoyed my first helping of "gravy" with Big Cat Tolfree and the Hypnotics. Despite the fact that he is from Oakland I had not heard Big Cat before. He performed Blues standards in a way that made you appreciate them. Everyday I have the Blues, Sweet Home Chicago, and Stepping Out, Stepping In were enjoyable. Listening to Blues in a beautiful setting in the sunshine was somewhat surreal. While I appreciated the environment I still recognized the necessity for my music. I do have the blues everyday, especially with the declining right to vote and the daily murder of Black men. I need the music to remind me of what we have survived and how the music has helped us to do so. That is the connection between Blues and spirituality. I made my first rounds to see my Blues festival friends, grabbed a beer, and made it back to my seat in time for Ron Thompson.
Ron Thompson has long been one of my favorites. His playing is a combination of gut-bucket blues with rock while maintaining the soul of the Blues. He is one of the few white artists who possess the blues. While listening to him during the day I was able to take some time to reflect and not just feel. I then understood that he was the reason Stevie Ray Vaughn's playing was so familiar to me. Ron did songs in tribute to John Lee Hooker and Jimmy Reed. He was subdued. It was daytime. He still did nothing to disavow me of the notion that he becomes possessed when he is playing guitar. I have no excuse for forgetting about his harmonica playing except that he is one of my favorite guitar players. We ended the set on the dance floor. Ron Thompson is guaranteed to be worth it. I do miss seeing Leonard Gil....
It is a good thing I am a critical thinker, otherwise I might have been convinced that the Bay Area Blues Society was backing Lester Chambers instead of Sonny Green. I had never seen either of them before, but I knew a tribute to Bobby Bland when I heard one. I started writing during Stormy Monday before I lost myself to memories of Bobby. Watching and listening to the stage filled with Black men in suits and horns took me back to each of the countless times I have seen Bobby Bland.
Maybe it says something about me that my first date was to a Bobby Bland concert. We had front row center seats.and Bobby spoke to me from the stage. Over the years I continued seeing Bobby Bland whenever possible. Listening to his albums got me through the roughest and loneliest times of my life. It was another level of spirituality. God gave us the Blues to get us through the rough times.
Listening to Sonny Green backed up by the BABS was an excellent tribute to Bobby Bland. Since I can't see Bobby Bland any more, I will want to see them again. He did a medley of hits, then Don't Cry No More, and I'll Take Care of You which he dedicated to the ladies. He closed with I Pity the Fool.
It took a minute to adjust to the change in schedule, spent some time on the many years I have been listening to Blues, and then Lester Chambers came on. The beat was good, but I had to use my "dog hearing" to catch the vocals. People without my ability were getting restless, and Mr. Chambers, a slightly built man in his seventies repeatedly tried to guide the sound technicians. Just when they temporarily corrected the sound for a saxophone solo on I Got the Blues, trouble struck. Mr. Chambers asked for prayer and dedicated his next song, "People Get Ready" to Trayvon Martin.. He was about a minute into the beautiful and inspiring song when a "crazy" white woman jumped up on stage, knocked him over, and started flailing her arms. Three men subdued her as Lester Chambers remained lying on the stage. Eventually she was taken off in handcuffs, and he was taken away on a stretcher. We took the time to adjust. Some expressed the idea that it was California and not Florida. We still had to yell for the woman who was attacking people to be handcuffed and arrested. We made the decision to stay, sent our prayers out to Lester Chambers, and went on with the show. Sista Monica and Ms. Sarah said it best in our vernacular "one monkey don't stop no show."
Sista Monica looked as if she not only lost a lot of weight, she had her hair in a flattering natural style. She has a way of tapping into the collective consciousness of a crowd. Witnessing her power is why she is someone else I always want to see perform. While everyone else was striving to assure us about safety issues, she picked up on the two factors which concerned most of us, the sound, and the lack of respect for the artists. She commented on what would happen if someone else decided to jump on stage and she ordered he sound man to go away and sit down. She told them she would take care of it, and then she did. She sang a spiritual and the audience joined in. She then went on to perform her particular brand of funk blues. I had another Monterey Blues Festival flashback. I had gone back to my hotel room across the street, in partial protest to funk being played instead of Blues. Back in my room I heard some soulful sounds and a funky beat. I couldn't stop responding to the music, so I went back to the Blues festival. I did not return to my room until she sang her last note, sometime around 11 PM. Now I suspend the Blues purist part of me whenever Sista Monica is playing and just enjoy the experience. She has earned her way onto my short list of performers not to be missed.
Johnny Rawls closed out the evening. While I enjoyed his performance, it was anti-climatic. I did enjoy "Let your love light shine on me" or whatever it is called. All in all, a good day. I would not survive without my Blues. Going home to the Trayvon Martin verdict made me need them even more. I only caught the last set with Bobby Rush on Sunday. Unfortunately the Bill Pickett rodeo was once again the same week-end, so I could only do one day of each.
Bobby Rush was Bobby Rush. I love his show which I characterize as what happens when Mississippi Blues is crossed with Las Vegas. Some of you may not appreciate the fact that I enjoy Bobby rush, but I ain't studdin' ya.
Adwoa
I left my sleeping son in the car with his dad while I went in to the show. I had my gravy first, along with some ribs and an Italian ice.Then I enjoyed my first helping of "gravy" with Big Cat Tolfree and the Hypnotics. Despite the fact that he is from Oakland I had not heard Big Cat before. He performed Blues standards in a way that made you appreciate them. Everyday I have the Blues, Sweet Home Chicago, and Stepping Out, Stepping In were enjoyable. Listening to Blues in a beautiful setting in the sunshine was somewhat surreal. While I appreciated the environment I still recognized the necessity for my music. I do have the blues everyday, especially with the declining right to vote and the daily murder of Black men. I need the music to remind me of what we have survived and how the music has helped us to do so. That is the connection between Blues and spirituality. I made my first rounds to see my Blues festival friends, grabbed a beer, and made it back to my seat in time for Ron Thompson.
Ron Thompson has long been one of my favorites. His playing is a combination of gut-bucket blues with rock while maintaining the soul of the Blues. He is one of the few white artists who possess the blues. While listening to him during the day I was able to take some time to reflect and not just feel. I then understood that he was the reason Stevie Ray Vaughn's playing was so familiar to me. Ron did songs in tribute to John Lee Hooker and Jimmy Reed. He was subdued. It was daytime. He still did nothing to disavow me of the notion that he becomes possessed when he is playing guitar. I have no excuse for forgetting about his harmonica playing except that he is one of my favorite guitar players. We ended the set on the dance floor. Ron Thompson is guaranteed to be worth it. I do miss seeing Leonard Gil....
It is a good thing I am a critical thinker, otherwise I might have been convinced that the Bay Area Blues Society was backing Lester Chambers instead of Sonny Green. I had never seen either of them before, but I knew a tribute to Bobby Bland when I heard one. I started writing during Stormy Monday before I lost myself to memories of Bobby. Watching and listening to the stage filled with Black men in suits and horns took me back to each of the countless times I have seen Bobby Bland.
Maybe it says something about me that my first date was to a Bobby Bland concert. We had front row center seats.and Bobby spoke to me from the stage. Over the years I continued seeing Bobby Bland whenever possible. Listening to his albums got me through the roughest and loneliest times of my life. It was another level of spirituality. God gave us the Blues to get us through the rough times.
Listening to Sonny Green backed up by the BABS was an excellent tribute to Bobby Bland. Since I can't see Bobby Bland any more, I will want to see them again. He did a medley of hits, then Don't Cry No More, and I'll Take Care of You which he dedicated to the ladies. He closed with I Pity the Fool.
It took a minute to adjust to the change in schedule, spent some time on the many years I have been listening to Blues, and then Lester Chambers came on. The beat was good, but I had to use my "dog hearing" to catch the vocals. People without my ability were getting restless, and Mr. Chambers, a slightly built man in his seventies repeatedly tried to guide the sound technicians. Just when they temporarily corrected the sound for a saxophone solo on I Got the Blues, trouble struck. Mr. Chambers asked for prayer and dedicated his next song, "People Get Ready" to Trayvon Martin.. He was about a minute into the beautiful and inspiring song when a "crazy" white woman jumped up on stage, knocked him over, and started flailing her arms. Three men subdued her as Lester Chambers remained lying on the stage. Eventually she was taken off in handcuffs, and he was taken away on a stretcher. We took the time to adjust. Some expressed the idea that it was California and not Florida. We still had to yell for the woman who was attacking people to be handcuffed and arrested. We made the decision to stay, sent our prayers out to Lester Chambers, and went on with the show. Sista Monica and Ms. Sarah said it best in our vernacular "one monkey don't stop no show."
Sista Monica looked as if she not only lost a lot of weight, she had her hair in a flattering natural style. She has a way of tapping into the collective consciousness of a crowd. Witnessing her power is why she is someone else I always want to see perform. While everyone else was striving to assure us about safety issues, she picked up on the two factors which concerned most of us, the sound, and the lack of respect for the artists. She commented on what would happen if someone else decided to jump on stage and she ordered he sound man to go away and sit down. She told them she would take care of it, and then she did. She sang a spiritual and the audience joined in. She then went on to perform her particular brand of funk blues. I had another Monterey Blues Festival flashback. I had gone back to my hotel room across the street, in partial protest to funk being played instead of Blues. Back in my room I heard some soulful sounds and a funky beat. I couldn't stop responding to the music, so I went back to the Blues festival. I did not return to my room until she sang her last note, sometime around 11 PM. Now I suspend the Blues purist part of me whenever Sista Monica is playing and just enjoy the experience. She has earned her way onto my short list of performers not to be missed.
Johnny Rawls closed out the evening. While I enjoyed his performance, it was anti-climatic. I did enjoy "Let your love light shine on me" or whatever it is called. All in all, a good day. I would not survive without my Blues. Going home to the Trayvon Martin verdict made me need them even more. I only caught the last set with Bobby Rush on Sunday. Unfortunately the Bill Pickett rodeo was once again the same week-end, so I could only do one day of each.
Bobby Rush was Bobby Rush. I love his show which I characterize as what happens when Mississippi Blues is crossed with Las Vegas. Some of you may not appreciate the fact that I enjoy Bobby rush, but I ain't studdin' ya.
Adwoa
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Missing Monterey
It is one of those years where the Blues Festival would not fall on my birthday week-end. The keyword is would. For the first time in many years I am not heading down to Monterey to listen to great music and eat my fair share of red beans and rice, chicken wings, and peach cobbler. I have lots of great memories. As those are what will get me through, I thought I would share some thoughts.
I attended the first Monterey Blues festival, when there was one stage with folding chairs and dust, but great music. I missed two or three in the ensuing years, until I reasoned it should not be missed. That meant that my son did not miss the Monterey Blues festival in any in his 11 years of life. I remember his in utero enjoyment of James Brown and Little Richard. Even then he showed appreciation for rhythm, kicking wildly (but on beat) especially through James Brown. I recall James Brown improvising a rap in appreciation of teachers. I will always remember his talking about his father and mother and the educational opportunities they did not have. Through the years I have seen many great artists there. My favorites still remain Clarence Carter, Denise LaSalle, Koko Taylor, Shamekia Copeland, E.C. Scott, Little Milton, Buddy Guy, and of course Kenny Neal. That is ignoring the gospel music on Sunday morning, all of the great Zydeco, and all of the great local artists with whom we are blessed. I now have to say I have attended the last. The world is changing, There is an empty hole in the fourth week-end in June. I am feeling sad. I need it replaced.
Rev. Adj.
I attended the first Monterey Blues festival, when there was one stage with folding chairs and dust, but great music. I missed two or three in the ensuing years, until I reasoned it should not be missed. That meant that my son did not miss the Monterey Blues festival in any in his 11 years of life. I remember his in utero enjoyment of James Brown and Little Richard. Even then he showed appreciation for rhythm, kicking wildly (but on beat) especially through James Brown. I recall James Brown improvising a rap in appreciation of teachers. I will always remember his talking about his father and mother and the educational opportunities they did not have. Through the years I have seen many great artists there. My favorites still remain Clarence Carter, Denise LaSalle, Koko Taylor, Shamekia Copeland, E.C. Scott, Little Milton, Buddy Guy, and of course Kenny Neal. That is ignoring the gospel music on Sunday morning, all of the great Zydeco, and all of the great local artists with whom we are blessed. I now have to say I have attended the last. The world is changing, There is an empty hole in the fourth week-end in June. I am feeling sad. I need it replaced.
Rev. Adj.
Down At the Lakeside-The Search for a Blues Home
It seems we must go through periods of drought as Blues lovers. Our favorite clubs close; their owners move back down south, or die as in the case of Troyce, Carol and Ali. We search for a new home, while we continue stopping at "motels" .
I myself have had a number of homes. I loved the television show Cheers, because it reminded me of Larry Blakes. Many years ago, when there was always a designated "Blue Monday" party, I could go there and find my front row center table waiting for me, along with my Guiness. I sat there every Monday for eight years, with five other Blues lovers, or a hundred, listening to great Blues. Many of the performers there have gone on to be Blues "stars", playing festivals and arenas. They were the family that I had my Blues meal with every Monday. I learned Blues history, sitting in front of people who were living it and making it. I saw Otis Rush, Lonnie Brooks, Gatemouth Brown, and of course Robert Cray, Joe Louis Walker, Nick Gravenites, Mark Hummel. The experience of having those people in my home was phenomenal.
My first home was of course Eli's Mile High club. that was the place I waited to enter. While many young people want to be 21 so that they can legally drink alcohol, I wanted to be 21 so that I could get into Eli's Mile High Club. I knew if I could go there, I could hear Mississippi Johnny Waters, Sonny Lane, Mark Hummel, Sonny Rhodes, and any other great artists who happened to be in town. Once I made 21 and was allowed into my first home, this Blues heaven, it became the place of my Sunday nourishment. Seeing Bobby Murray, Pee Wee, Sonny Lane, and Francis Clay weekly, was a privilege that has sustained my life. Of course there were fights, and drugs, and shootings, but that was a small price to pay for a young person who had not yet learned to fear.
Then musical dollars changed again. It was less expensive to have music that was not live, or music that was not Blues. Slowly, most of my other hang-outs closed. Troyce Key died. Many of us did what we could to keep the family together, but it was not the same. We searched for a new home in which our family could gather. We found the 5th Amendment. Identity was mixed between Blues and Jazz. Yet it became our new home because J.J. Malone, Mamou, and Country Pete McGill lived their Blues there. Like Eli's, we could pick our night and the artists we liked best. Like Preacher at Eli's, we could develop a relationship with our favorite waitress or bartender. Blues people like it when they don't have to order their drink because the bartender or waitress knows their order. When Norm walked into Cheers Coach or Sam or Carla knew to get his draft beer ready. So it is at any good Blues home. Unfortunately the economy took its toll on the 5th Amendment and it stopped featuring Blues. When that happened I was homeless for awhile, until Country Pete turned me on to the "A&C" club. For some of us, for me, the A&C was like finding your first home. In Blues, I searched for a "juke joint". I had the pleasure of finding two in Mississippi. The focus of a juke joint is the music and the atmosphere. It is not a fancy place, it is a funky place, but the music is good and the people are for real. The A&C club had the same feel as a Mississippi juke joint. I spent a wonderful few years there. You know you have a good home when you will not leave at midnight on Sunday and you have to be at work at 7:30 AM on Monday. Sadly, Ali and Carol then died within the same week. Ali's brother kept things going for awhile. The city and state regulations made things difficult. Finally, the A&C closed for good, and I was homeless again. Around this time I found myself hearing about another club, also on San Pablo Ave. It seemed to barely have a name, which is promising if a place is going to be a juke joint. I finally figured out where it was and made it down there. The dress code was a bit much for me, but I was willing to sacrifice all but my baseball cap to go to "The Silver Shelter". At this point it finally dawned on me that all my blues family members kept finding new homes with me. Eventually, we would all end up in the same place. After a good year or two, it planned to relocate.
By the time we made it down to the Lakeside, everyone else had found it already. The Lakeside is home now. A place to find consistently good Blues and R&B on Sunday nights. Like Eli's people who are in town and in the know will drop by and sit in. There is enough of a dance floor to get a little exercise. It encourages a crowd of people over 35. This makes it possible to have intelligent conversations with people who have experienced life and can appreciate the blues. They know about Willie Dixon, and they may even know about Lonnie Johnson. With the challenges of 2011, it sure is great to have a home again.
Rev. Adj
Church of Blues and Baseball History
The Church of Blues and Baseball began over 20 years ago. As the founding minister and as a profoundly spiritual person, I needed a church that would meet my needs. I was raised in traditional Christian Churches (Baptist and Congregational). I enjoyed the oratory, the music, and the celebration of my history and culture. I suffered because I did not suffer from the same limiting beliefs as other church members.
Growing up in Berkeley and the East Bay, I was resistant to the dogma. I am the descendant of ministers, and "witch doctors". My roots are Southern Baptist, pagan, and everything in between. I studied all of the worlds' major religions. I found things of value in all of them. I am experienced enough to know that what works for me does not work for everyone. Thus I tried non-denominational churches. We shared our concept of a loving Christian God, but not the way in which we would worship him. I needed people who could worship like me, but would not judge others who did not believe in the same concept of God/Great Spirit.
I discovered I needed appreciation for emotion and the spiritual presence of Great Spirit. I needed hope. I needed people who felt the presence of the Great Spirit in the same way that I did. Then we could share that joy together. I have always had friends of many different faiths, or of none so,in short, I needed other people who experienced spirituality through Blues and/or Baseball. I found them and started the Church of Blues and Baseball. We have members on two continents and many states. We held meetings and published a monthly newsletter for several years. Then life intervened.
I started a family. Motherhood was my primary responsibility. Like any good mother I introduced my son to my passions. I did not give up Baseball, or Blues, but I had to make some tough choices. I could no longer travel whenever I wanted and see every Blues show or attend all the Baseball games. I even had to miss the World Series games in San Francisco (though I did manage the recognition ceremony when we chanted for Dusty Baker to stay).
Now, my child is old enough for me to follow my spiritual quest again. The bible asks for us to gather together. So here we are. If you are Jewish, Buddhist, Animist, Muslim, Christian,or anything else you are welcome in this Church. The requirements are that you try to do unto others as you would have them do unto you, and that you are able to experience spirituality through Blues and/or Baseball. If you were unable to read the Church newsletter in the past, I hope you will enjoy the blog now. Whether you are new to the Church of Blues and Baseball, or an old member, let's continue on our spiritual journey.
In Love and Peace
Reverend Adwoa Mante'ete'
Growing up in Berkeley and the East Bay, I was resistant to the dogma. I am the descendant of ministers, and "witch doctors". My roots are Southern Baptist, pagan, and everything in between. I studied all of the worlds' major religions. I found things of value in all of them. I am experienced enough to know that what works for me does not work for everyone. Thus I tried non-denominational churches. We shared our concept of a loving Christian God, but not the way in which we would worship him. I needed people who could worship like me, but would not judge others who did not believe in the same concept of God/Great Spirit.
I discovered I needed appreciation for emotion and the spiritual presence of Great Spirit. I needed hope. I needed people who felt the presence of the Great Spirit in the same way that I did. Then we could share that joy together. I have always had friends of many different faiths, or of none so,in short, I needed other people who experienced spirituality through Blues and/or Baseball. I found them and started the Church of Blues and Baseball. We have members on two continents and many states. We held meetings and published a monthly newsletter for several years. Then life intervened.
I started a family. Motherhood was my primary responsibility. Like any good mother I introduced my son to my passions. I did not give up Baseball, or Blues, but I had to make some tough choices. I could no longer travel whenever I wanted and see every Blues show or attend all the Baseball games. I even had to miss the World Series games in San Francisco (though I did manage the recognition ceremony when we chanted for Dusty Baker to stay).
Now, my child is old enough for me to follow my spiritual quest again. The bible asks for us to gather together. So here we are. If you are Jewish, Buddhist, Animist, Muslim, Christian,or anything else you are welcome in this Church. The requirements are that you try to do unto others as you would have them do unto you, and that you are able to experience spirituality through Blues and/or Baseball. If you were unable to read the Church newsletter in the past, I hope you will enjoy the blog now. Whether you are new to the Church of Blues and Baseball, or an old member, let's continue on our spiritual journey.
In Love and Peace
Reverend Adwoa Mante'ete'
Inspired Again
Hello Blues and/or Baseball Fans. I know most of you have continued your journey in enjoying the experience of spirituality through Blues and Baseball. We have had a chance to share together at the Blues Festivals in Monterey, Pittsburgh, "Russell City" and wherever we are able to gather and listen to good music. On the eve of the observance of Dr. King's birthday, I feel inspired to share the gospel. I need to spread the good news of how God's glory can be revealed through the "devil's music". So, whether you are a member of our church, or just a curious and connected person, read on and allow me to share my experiences with you.
Rev. Adwoa Asabea Mante'ete' aka Rev. Adj.
Rev. Adwoa Asabea Mante'ete' aka Rev. Adj.
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