REFLECTION & REASON

Photo by John Mahler, Toronto Saturday, July 31. The day started with torrential downpour, while masqueraders and calypso bands gathered in preparation for the 10th annual Caribbean parade: the largest celebration of its kind in Canada. It was the summer of 1976, and many of the young West Indian revellers had only been living in Canada for a few years. This was a highlight in the community. A time of honouring their roots and performing their cultural traditions proudly on the streets of their new home: Toronto. Photo by Jack Dobson Caribana was, and remains, a special time for Toronto's Caribbean community because of the force with which the parade's participants declare their space. Originally intended as a gift to the city of Toronto on behalf of the West Indian community, the festivities have undergone numerous changes in management, in name, in route, in relevance, and in generational trend. But one thing that has yet to be altered is the spirit of the event.

We all knew who Quincy Jones was, primarily because of Michael Jackson. That was all we needed to know to determine that the man was an amazing musical mind. He produced not only the historic "Thriller" album in 1982, but also the "Off The Wall" album in 1979, and the "Bad" album in 1987. As far as anyone was concerned in the 80s: Quincy Jones was a mastermind. Those accomplishments alone are more than enough to have him cemented into music's elite echelons. Since then, I can't say that I've ever questioned Q's excellence. I knew that he was the producer of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. I knew that he had produced and performed with many (if not all) of the greatest musicians of our time and beyond. I can recently recall him being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (2013), and also receiving the Kennedy Center Honors in 2001. Everyone knows, he's a vault of talent. It's no secret, although all of the details may not ha

Sanaa Lathan is an inspiration: her movie choices, her artistic talent, her tabloid anonymity, her beauty, her grace, and what she represents. She is my favourite actress, and someone who has consistently been a fabulous on-screen representation of class and Black female self-awareness and identity. "Brown Sugar" has been my all-time favourite film from the day I saw it, in 2002. A budding journalist fresh out of university, the character Sidney Shaw represented everything I wanted to be. She was a high-profile magazine editor, embedded deep in hip hop and "urban" culture. She was slightly "tomboy-ish" and passionate about her work, yet strong in her convictions and pure in spirit. I would watch the movie repeatedly and think to myself: now here is an example of a strong Black woman who hasn't lost sight of what drives her. The combination of music, writing, and pop culture meant everything to me. "Brown Sugar" was my blueprint. The

I'll be the first to admit that I enjoy the entertainment industry in all of its mess and glory. I watch TMZ and E! News daily (along with other news programs, of course), and I am usually pretty up-to-the-times on the wha gwan with the creative folks in the public eye. I love to be entertained by talented folks! I admire their hard work. I admire their perseverance and thick skin. I admire their movies, their albums, and their fashions. I love art, and the process of producing art. That being said, I could do less with the "beef" culture, and how it has permeated the otherwise inspiring talent that I consume on a daily basis. I think at this point in pop cultural history, it's time to usher in an era of support, positivity, and progress. It's almost a necessity, given the political unrest that the majority of these cultural icons are currently living in. We've all been entertained by the stories over the years. If you're a reggae lover, it goes

This music, by design, is created to generate good vibes. Great energy, radiant sunshine, and positive sensations go hand in hand with soca music in the summer time...or in summer-like climates, year round. Every new season of this island music comes with a different feeling, and can be ultimately judged overall by the body of songs and performances once the Caribbean carnival calendar is complete. There are a few keys years in soca that stand out in my memory: for example, I distinctly remember the 2011/2012 season being one of them. The Antilles Riddim STILL sounds brand new to me, it's that powerful. Kerwin's "Bacchanalist" and Machel's "Vibes Cyan Done" are classics in my memory. Since then, some eras were lukewarm, and others were pretty hot. In my humble opinion, 2018 has been fire. Big up the artists, the producers, and the DJs for circulating these upful vibes all year long. This year's soca has integrated marvellously with the big Afro