It’s my #RodWoodsonYear, and I suppose I’m old enough now to slip into fits of convulsive nostalgia. Maybe not convulsive.

If this was not in your shop…

Here are some intentional run-ons that are evoked with each aromatic whiff of pie in the oven.

Merry CHRISTmas (if you know, you know).

  1. I miss 5 disc CD changers with cassette players and an FM radio and having an early frustration with irrational numbers of stations
  2. I miss my grandmother’s abacus that she gave me IN THE 1990s along with her encyclopedia collection that was 3x my body weight
  3. I miss Zomba, Verity and Hosanna record labels and Black…

FAQs written by co-creators Elijah E. Davis + Keri Freeman

What is “blkLSTed”? Why now?

blkLSTed is a community building initiative and economic empowerment strategy for Birmingham that utilizes an open-source, collaborative, living and unapologetic entrepreneurial directory for Black-owned, Black-led businesses and organizations in Birmingham.

It’s long overdue.

We want to list 1,000 Black-owned and operated businesses and organizations by August 31, 2020 (August is usually the Taste of 4th Avenue Jazz Festival and National Black Business Month) and 500 by Juneteenth 2020.

As we enter the “next normal” ushered in by COVID-19, it’s important now more than ever that we stay resilient and innovative to support one another.

What’s up with the name? Isn’t being “blacklisted” negative?

It’s a list of Black entities…

Photo taken in 2020, 12th Ave. N

I wrote the letter below as a compliant to MAX as a result of my frustration during my senior year at UAB. I was without a car until after I turned 22. (I’m 25). The letter below was written on a phone and $70 android notebook. I republish it here completely unedited (mistakes and all. I sent it to MAX, but never heard back. It’s pure comedy, but it makes some relevant points for today’s climate.


To whom it concerns:

Good Afternoon,

I hope this note is viewed by all pertinent managers, supervisors, and auxiliary decision makers for the…

Annually, Frank Capra’s film screens forcefully on mainline American TV channels that aren’t narrating 21st Century-concussion protocol-Tlachtli. Structured to be a sermon on contentment, the film’s masterful plot is thought to depict a timeless existential meditation — does my life matter? Digging deeper, the character George Bailey asks for all of us, “why live an unhappy life?”

The answer, as presented in the film, is that without George’s life, so many other lives would have been subservient to malaise or would have not existed. It could be said that the film asserts that death frames life, by employing a thought…

For years in my adolescence, the holiday season would bring on an air of bereavement. I never experienced a tragic loss in family or loved one during that time, but something else died: My naive joy.

One of my earliest holiday memories extends to the bewildering year of 2000 when, at age six, swirling around the untouchable Black living room, within a damaged lampshade of losing my life, I began singing the melody of “O, Tannenbaum” (we will discuss Elijah’s mirth at a later date {we?}). …

  1. Today is March 31, 2017. 90 days have already elapsed in the year.
  2. 1992, the year of the unstoppable “swoop kick” in the NES’ Mortal Kombat, was 25 years ago.
  3. 2002, a world in which Tracy McGrady was an MVP candidate and 50 Cent was topping Billboard, was 15 years ago
  4. The iPhone, and therefore the devolution of homo sapien attention span, came out in 2007, ten years ago.
  5. Osama Bin Laden has been dead (we hope) for more than five years, and President Obama is Barry again.
  6. The pandemic that affected all middle aged men and caused them to…

Just as the relentless waves from Katrina receded, we journeyed afoot back to our recently submerged house, our hearts and minds in slow recession from trauma. After a swell of praise for the dead water moccasins (that we had avoided during our escape), I measured my height against the fudge colored waterline. We stood outside to further assess the damage. It was as if the Spirit of Mississippi, manifest in overcast humidity, was summoned from the earth.

Without digital time and aided only by gears, we expected that we had three hours of sunlight remaining. We readied the overnight package…

Cue Judy Jacobs.

I’m corny. I know. I couldn’t resist.

More importantly, listen to Mahalia Jackson be the unadulterated utterance of Blackness for three and half minutes straight.

If you see me in public and have the urge to burst out in this song, don’t.

Besides the fact that they apparently had music videos in the Sixties, and that Mahalia Jackson was given one, and that her video for “Elijah Rock” is the antithesis of BET Uncut, and that she is inexplicably standing over an altar that resembles the one that Aslan would have been sacrificed on, and that I’m…

Elijah E. Davis

I’m interested in why things work. The “wicked” problems of our time can be solved with enough data, grit, and compassion.

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