The world was powerless to Whitney Houston’s vocal charm during the period I attended Tehipite Middle School in the early ’90s. Her album, I‘m You Baby Tonight, couldn’t stay on the shelves of record stores before additions had to be order. Then there were beautiful performances of ’All the Man that I Need’ that seemed to be televised three to four times a week on episodes of The Tonight Show and Saturday Night Live. My memories of being glued to the tube as she was singing, in retrospect, seemed stalkish and fanatical but this kind of talent seemed superhuman to an eleven year old skinny boy from Fresno, California.
Something sudden emerged, better, a someone in this time. Another extraordinary vocalist took the world by storm and rivaled Whitney’s position as the greatest female singer of the era. With no shade, this newly debuted artist was an above average singer and possessed exceptional delivery and phrasing which couldn’t (and still can’t) be denied. But the skinny little black boy of Fresno was, yet, partial to Whitney Houston and couldn’t comprehend the reason. The question was solid: Why did I believe Whitney Houston was better?
One of the reasons I was born to be my mother‘s son was because God orchestrated our relationship based on teaching. After leaving school where a debate surrounding who was the better singer erupted in the cafeteria, I came home and sought my mother‘s guidance on the debate. Without a definite recollection of what my mother was doing at the time, I do remember how her head rose, her eyes met mine with a certain certainty, reason and wonder and how her words were clear:
“Yes, [the other person] is a great singer, but she can’t send a shiver down my spine like Whitney Houston.”
I am certain that my mother doesn’t remember this day, as she can’t generally locate her missing car keys, but this (and many other situation by the wisdom of my mother) was defining for me.
Through Whitney’s effective inflection and gifted talent to modify words into vocal artistry. Her presence on stage and ability to touch the heart without being in close proximity. Even in this day, a time critics are unbelieving of efforts to gain the power she once had but proved them wrong on The Oprah Winfrey Show. These are the reasons for my preference.
Nearly 20 years later that skinny little black boy now knows: he loves Whitney Houston because no one can send a shiver down his spine like her.
Something sudden emerged, better, a someone in this time. Another extraordinary vocalist took the world by storm and rivaled Whitney’s position as the greatest female singer of the era. With no shade, this newly debuted artist was an above average singer and possessed exceptional delivery and phrasing which couldn’t (and still can’t) be denied. But the skinny little black boy of Fresno was, yet, partial to Whitney Houston and couldn’t comprehend the reason. The question was solid: Why did I believe Whitney Houston was better?
One of the reasons I was born to be my mother‘s son was because God orchestrated our relationship based on teaching. After leaving school where a debate surrounding who was the better singer erupted in the cafeteria, I came home and sought my mother‘s guidance on the debate. Without a definite recollection of what my mother was doing at the time, I do remember how her head rose, her eyes met mine with a certain certainty, reason and wonder and how her words were clear:
“Yes, [the other person] is a great singer, but she can’t send a shiver down my spine like Whitney Houston.”
I am certain that my mother doesn’t remember this day, as she can’t generally locate her missing car keys, but this (and many other situation by the wisdom of my mother) was defining for me.
Through Whitney’s effective inflection and gifted talent to modify words into vocal artistry. Her presence on stage and ability to touch the heart without being in close proximity. Even in this day, a time critics are unbelieving of efforts to gain the power she once had but proved them wrong on The Oprah Winfrey Show. These are the reasons for my preference.
Nearly 20 years later that skinny little black boy now knows: he loves Whitney Houston because no one can send a shiver down his spine like her.
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