This just in!
Beyond the 8th Edition
Between now and the next edition,
enjoy the adventures of Blossom in
"The Daddy Pages."
A 9th Edition
You made us popular. Now, it's our turn to make you proud.
The works, When Men Speak, When Men Speak-The Radio Edition, & Jubilee News are the intellectual property of its founder, creator, & Editor-In-Chief, James W. Falcon. However, the submissions of all artists are expressly theirs. Jubilee News wishes to thank each artist for lending this newsletter your gifts, talents, and works. Jubilee News seeks only the best talent to convey the sometimes complicated message of reconciliation between the sexes. Your investment in the "relationship revolution" is greatly appreciated.
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Message from the Editor-In-Chief
Welcome to Jubilee News-A WHEN MEN Publication! This is the relaunch of the publication and it called the “8th Edition and Beyond.” It is the continuation of a dream sparked back in 2012. And it is also the fulfilled of a dream in the relaunch! Several attempts have been made to gather a team of columnists and poets to re-engage our audience. But I have come to realize that those attempts were indeed out of season. This is the proper season for the relaunch! This is the proper season for the voice this newsletter was intended to have to be lifted to signify women’s empowerment, strength, and progress! Now is the time for the fires to be stoked. Now is the time to bring about a relationship revolution!!! And this newsletter will do just that.
A Team has been assembled and plans are underway to publish the 9th Edition very, very soon. There is plenty of life left and plenty of issues to tackle in male-female relationships. So…the journey continues with fresh, new talent of hungry columnists, vloggers, and poets. In the meantime, please enjoy the adventures of a character I created named Blossom until we release the next edition. By the way, our mission remains the same: to provoke a relationship revolution! I have no intent of stopping what we’ve started…AT ALL! So long as the need for encouragement exists as it relates to man-woman relationships, Jubilee News plans to continue publishing its online newsletter.
Not only for ourselves, but for our children and for many generations to come.
I thank you soooo very much for your patience…in advance…in this rebuilding process.
James W. Falcon,
Jubilee News-A WHEN MEN SPEAK Publication
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Also, if you have any suggestions for topics we have not covered, we will be happy to review those requests as well. Once again, thank you for your support and thank you in advance for your emails.
Thank you once again.
James W. Falcon
Co-Host, WHEN MEN SPEAK-The Radio Edition
Director of Marketing
Unique E. Falcon
Manager, Social Media
James W. Falcon
Poets & Spoken Word Artists
James W. Falcon
|----------POETS, SPOKEN WORD ARTISTS, COLUMNISTS-----------|
~8th Edition and beyond~
James W. Falcon
God’s Precious Flower (GPF)
Memoirs of a Lady
From the Reservation
Meredith Duncan Weber
James W. Falcon
I am immensely grateful for the contributions of all of the above mentioned contributors for their voluntary support of Jubilee News. Thank you.
This Publication wishes to honor the memory and legacy of a special partner,
Nekil R. Colden.
Nekil, a former Editor-In-Chief of another publication, joined the Jubilee News Team in 2013 and made sizable contributions with promises of more in the future. But unfortunately, Nekil lost her battle with cancer and passed away unexpectedly. We are grateful for Nekil's life and contributions to Jubilee News. Our deepest sympathies go out to her Family & Friends in her lost. This Publication will forever honor her work and will hold a place for her here among the staff.
Rest In Peace
Nekil R. Colden
11/25/1975 - 1/29/2014
-James W. Falcon
THE DADDY PAGES-Chapter 7
How important is it for a little girl to have her father in her life? Is a father's presence that important? What are the benefits of having a solid relationship with your Dad? Follow a fictional character named Blossom as she grapples with these topics in her growth and development from childhood to womanhood in each edition of Jubilee News. Jubilee News is proud to present the work of
artist-author, Jai-ree. Enjoy this new chapter. Baltimore
It was sooooo soothing. Jazz music that is. Blossom was listening to piece of music from a cd that she often kept in her disc player. She enjoyed the artist and his music and…especially selection number 9. It was a piece of music that had a heck of a lot of swing to it. And it also had a brilliant interplay of percussion, piano and jazz rifs, too. While Blossom enjoyed the entire cd, she rarely ventured away from selection number 9. As a matter of fact, she kept selection number 9 on repeat. For as long as she was home, she listened to selection number 9 most of that time. She turned the sound down so her neighbors wouldn’t think she was a nut for listening to that same piece of music over and over and over again. Some days cared and some day she just didn’t. She loved jazz music. Although Blossom was an artist in her own right-a visual artist-she harbored a jealousy toward musicians-to saxophone players in particular. To her, there was no greater expression of art that the rifs of a saxophone. She had a love hate relationship for the instrument itself. But a long-standing romance for jazz. Listening jazz was her absolute favorite pastime. Jazz encouraged her when she was down. It provided the perfect cover on those days she needed to cry aloud. And it facilitated the best “thought time” possible. Whenever she had a big assignment due at work, it was jazz that steadied her mind and her hand enough to complete the project. To Blossom, jazz was almost like her boyfriend. She could be found talking out loud whenever a moving piece of jazz was playing almost as if she were having a conversation with an actual human being. Blossom learned to express her artistic creativity through visual art. But Blossom is always offered a tour to the furthermost reaches of her inner soul every time she listens to jazz-a offer that she never, ever refuses.
As Blossom laid across her bed on this particular evening after work, jazz took her on yet another journey. Blossom slowly drifted into an incredibly satisfying, fatigue induced state of nostalgia. She was immediately transported back to being a 10 year old, grade school student. Blossom was reflected on a very bitter sweet time in her childhood. She re-engaged in the moment she and dad were at the music store looking for a saxophone to play in her school’s band. She relived the pain and the joy all over again as she had done almost as frequently as she played selection number 9.
“Good evening,” said the woman behind the counter to my dad and I.
And in his easy going, but somewhat distracted voice my dad replied for the both of us and said, “Good evening” in return.
“We are to get a saxophone for my Princess,” he said sheepishly. My dad was a good man…a very good man but he was always intimidated when it came to buying big ticket items because he was, as he often described himself, a superhero on a budget. He had big dreams with little means. My dad was a very giving, kindhearted person. But he was often plagued by the impact of having a bank account that was not as large as his capacity for giving. It’s not that my dad and mom didn’t make enough money. It was because they has incurred a number of medical expenses from a crisis that my dad suffered a few years prior. Their earnings were solid and by all accounts we were what many might consider to be a middle-class family. To compensate, my dad often gave what he could to help others and sacrificed his needs. It was something I hated watching. I could see the pain in his face and even in his gestures and movements…even as young as 10 years old. I hated t because my dad had chosen that approach and no one, nowhere on the planet could talk him out of it-not even my mother. I always wished that one day I’d grow up to make enough money to give dad all of the things he sacrificed for my sake an for the sake of those he loved. He didn’t deserve to have to go without so often. Or at least, I didn’t think so.
But there we were. The big day had come. We were going to finally get the instrument I had talked so much about. I picked out the one I wanted. An application was filled out and a credit check was run. Unfortunately, the matter was just out of my dad’s range financially. Each option discussed seemed as if it was chopping away a little bit more of my dad’s manhood. I remember him talking and looking down at me with the saddest expression I’d ever seen him wear. He was heartbroken that things were not turning out the way he had hoped…the way I had hoped. As much as I wanted to be sympathetic to his cause, my 10 year old desires kicked in and I burst into a tear-filled tirade. And it was bad. It was bad because it was silent. A silent, pain-filled cry. Apparently, it was so painful that it didn’t look like I was breathing because I remember my dad frantically calling my name as if I had stopped breathing. He took 2 quick steps and there he was in front of me, knelt down on one knee. He put his big arms around me, and held me tightly.
“Princess, I am soooo sorry,” he said. “I thought this was going to work, but it didn’t. And I don’t know what to do,” he muttered slowly and painfully.
“Awww” said the lady behind the counter as she expressed her sorrow. My dad then lowly stood to his feet, thanked the lady behind the counter, we left the store, and headed for the parking lot. It was a painful ride home. One I will never forget. While he was driving, my dad reached over and grabbed my hand to comfort me as I cried. And then something amazing happened. My dad-this giant of a man…this man that I had seen as rock solid, unshakable, and unbending did something I would never guess. His bottomed lip began to quiver. The corners of his mouth drooped. Despite his attempts to hold his composure, he simply couldn’t. His shoulders shrugged and tears ran down his shiny brown cheeks like an April shower. The scene was so powerful that it got my attention to the degree that I stopped crying to comfort him.
“It’s O.K.,” I said to my dad. “I don’t really need that saxophone,” I lied.
“You may not need it Princess, but you wanted it and that’s enough for me,” he said barked. “I’m going to get you that saxophone somehow.”
Once we arrived home, my dad and I explained the situation to my mother. And she looked as if she was going to cry, too. I snuggled up next to her on the couch as she whispered comforting things to me while she rocked me slowly in her arms.
The living room-the place that had hosted many of joy filled family gatherings over the years was a somber, joy robbed, cold, place. There was a heavy sorrow there that day. And then…my mother pushed away from me and declared, “Hey! I have an idea!” Her enthusiasm and her movements were almost frightening but I was so curious that I fixed my eyes on her as if my life depended on it. She had my full attention. My mother grabbed her phone and started typing.
My father, also startled, said, “What Mommy, what?”
My mother went on to explain that maybe we could get the sax online some place. “I’m thinking…like…Ebay or something,” she said with confidence.
And so mom searched and searched until she found a saxophone with an open bid. She sprung into action. She rattled off the details to dad and I as she worked her magic and before you know it, that somber, sad gathering was ignited with possibility. Maybe dad was right. Maybe I WOULD get my sax today. Maybe mom WAS onto something. The one thing I knew was that mom and dad was rarely wrong when it came to me. Individually they were was incredible people. And together, they was amazing.
Multiple bids and nearly 2 hours later…it happened! The bids closed. And we won! My dad happily took out his credit card and rattled the numbers off to my mom as she input them into her phone. The purchase was made. The transaction was secured and shipping and handling was taken care of. And that ended up being one of the happiest days of my childhood. I was thrilled. My parents were ecstatic. It was the look on my dad’s face that said it all. It was as if my happiness were a drug for him and he got more and more intoxicated as the minutes passed. The happier I got. The happier he got.
My dad said to me, “See Princess! I told you I’d get you a saxophone” as if the whole thing were all part of well thought out plan of some sort. And it was-just not his. I hugged him just as tightly all the same.
Join Blossom in her journey through womanhood as she reflects on the interactions she's had with her dad and...for a new chapter of...The Daddy Pages. Thank you.