Not too long ago I was on a bus on my way to my destination, when a lady in her l Not ate 70’s sat beside me. As we were leaving the terminal, the bus had to make a series of sharp turns and stops in order for us to get out onto the busy street. As we hit the first sharp turn it is routine for passengers to be thrown sideways as the bus leans towards the turn. It is wise to hold on to your bags or else they will end up on the other side of the bus. This time was no different. As I dug my foot into the floor of the bus, the woman beside me grabbed my hand in fear. I turned and looked in this woman’s eyes and saw that she was completely terrified. All of a sudden I was no longer a stranger, but now a protector for her. She held on to my hand and squeezed it harder as we took the next turn, and that time I used my other hand to pat some calm into her fearful fingers. She turned to me with a relieved look on her face and spoke to me in an unfamiliar tongue. To my ears, musically it sounded like she was thankful for the warmth that I offered. I could read it in her eyes, that she was grateful for the closeness. I had never met this old woman before, but I held her hand tightly and cradled it with my other one, taking time to rub her hand between mine. She continued to whisper to me in her language, smiling and squeezing. I smiled, saying in mine “It’s okay, it’s gonna be alright”. All of a sudden the big city that I lived in seemed smaller. When her stop came she gently pulled her hand from the cradle of mine and smiled once more before she left the bus, slowly being swallowed by the din of the intersection. I did not know this woman, and probably would never meet her again, but we had shared one of those moments that are special. A linking of people, for a brief moment in a time of need, that reflects the human need for togetherness.
I had heard about the Wonderfull party several years ago, by a musically astute friend of mine who was responsible for performing musical surgery on my opening musical brain. She introduced me to the compilations of DJ Bobbito and Spinna who unearthed the remakes of Mr Stevie Wonder by obscure artists. She enchanted me with stories of these Wonderfull parties, in which the DJ’s only played Stevie’s tunes, Stevie’s tunes done by other artists and Stevie produced material. The party in NYC at the time and were legendary. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to move and groove with a bunch of strangers to music from an artist that meant so much to me. She then put on a remake of Pastime Paradise by Ray Barretto I was mesmerized. I couldn’t believe that it was possible for someone to take a Stevie Wonder song a actually build another masterpiece out of it. That song stuck in my head for a long time, as did the desire for me to attend a Wonderfull event. So when I heard that there was going to be a Wonderfull party in Toronto, I bought my ticket in a hurry.
The event was held at The Revival, a former Baptist Church in the city. People seemed to speak in hushed voices as we walked into Reviva,l acting as if they were going to attend a sermon. Whispers of 500 tickets already being sold, wafted over our heads as we headed into the lounge. Bobbito and Spinna where up on stage, milling about with the vinyl they had brought as we were treated a remix of Stevie written song “It’s A Shame” and then “Tears Of A Clown”. I jumped up and down like a kid when I heard this song played as it brought back memories of having my hair combed in the morning before school when I was 6 years old by my Mother. I would always hear this song being played on the oldies stations as my hair was being braided and my “kitchen back” was being tidied up. As I moved to the music I could swear I could smell the Afro Sheen in my hair.
I looked at Bobbito and Spinna up on stage in the throes of pure joy as they flipped on Stevie tune after tune, and watching the crowd as we sang out the lines of our familiar songs in unison. They seemed like two friends crammed in their bedrooms trying to impress each other with the vinyl that they had accumulated. Song after song you could see each them looking at each other with approval as if they were discovering the songs for the first time. When Pastime Paradise came on I danced as if it was the first time that I heard that song as well, I became more excited as they mixed it with the Ray Barretto version. Song after song became a manifesto: We are here to unite in the Wonderfull world of Stevie. When “As” came on I looked around at the crowd on the floor. Here was the face of Toronto. The different faces, and colours, ages, all moving and singing the song that spoke of a pledge of an eternity of love. In that moment if felt as if were all one entity, singing about the simple truth of the human need for understanding and love. We were all encased in the universal soothing hand of each other’s strangeness, the comforting strength in reaching out and having that hand being answered with a reassuring squeeze. The city once again became small. I thought of that old woman and how I needed her hand just as much as she needed mine. I thought of the problems that are plaguing our city and how much we all needed to be the universal hand to try and solve the problems. I felt lifted with the potential of the soothing salve of the musical heart of our city and how much I hoped for a wonderfull-like solution in the twisting turns of the human struggle.
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