How could anything worth a damn come from a soulless, plastic, cultural wasteland like Dallas?
Easy -- because Dallas isn’t any of those things and hasn’t been for a while. If you think so, kiss Erykah Badu’s ass.
If you think so, you should have been at Badu’s 45th birthday at the end of February. For hours, she took people to church inside The Bomb Factory, an actual former WWII-era bomb factory located in the same Deep Ellum neighborhood where Leadbelly and Blind Lemon Jefferson used to play on street corners. It was one of those nights that you can feel is A Moment for every single second. You should have been there. Dave Chappelle and Andre 3000 were.
"What you have just done sisters and brothers, ladies and gentlemen, you have transcended race, religion, color, sex, kind, and technology," she said from the stage near the end. "I do not take for granted your spirits today." From a balcony overlooking the asses-to-elbows crowd of 4,000 people, I saw the Dallas I know and have loved for almost 20 years, the Dallas I never hear mentioned.