Uncle Willie

My uncle was always famous. At least in our house he was. His name was William James Thomas Jr. Which was his stage name. Yeah, he had a stage name his entire life. His real name was William Omar Jones, but he said that didn't have enough pop. He also said the Jr always makes you sound more important. That someone wanted to make sure people knew you belonged to them.

My uncle Willie was my hero. I got excited every time he came around. He always had money. Well at least he always had what I thought was money. He'd give me two dollars every time he came over to our house and I thought he was rich. I also thought that he was the coolest man on the planet.

He had a collection of hats. All different styles and all different colors. He used to always tell me that every good musician always had a good hat. He also needed the right color for the right occasions. He always matched his hat to his suit to his shoes. Speaking of suits, I've never seen him not dressed. He's always had on his big, collared shirts. He always had on his slacks and shoes. He always looked his best. He always told me that you have to be ready. That you never know when you're going to get your break.

He was the best dressed and the coolest person that I knew. He had a flask and that was what he used to pour all of his drinks. I couldn't wait until my mother would give him his trademark glass of coke. He'd come in and she'd give him the coke and I knew the flask was coming out. I loved the way he always said let me add a little something something. The way he poured it in and shook the glass around was just like they did in the movies. He said to get the part you had to be the part. He told me every good musician had to know how to handle his liquor. That you had to be a little buzzed to bring out your best music but not too buzzed to sound like an asshole.

He also smoked a good bit. He smelled like liquor, cigarettes and cologne. He said that was the smell of success. He said that all of the top guys in the industry were smokers. He also had a way of smoking that I thought was cool. The cigarette would look like it's barely in his mouth. Then it would dangle with every movement and every word and never fall out of his mouth. He never even seemed to touch it either. He'd just suck it in and then let it dangle again when he was done with the puff. The smoke looked like it was dancing around his head.

He got into a bunch of fights too. It was weird to me. He wasn't a very big man. He was actually quite small. By the time I was a teenager I was bigger than him and felt like I could beat him in a fight. He didn't talk like that at all. He talked like he was seven feet tall, and no one was able to beat him. He'd come to our house all beat up. I'd always ask him what happened. He told me never let anybody say anything to you that you don't like. I thought that he was taking up for himself and that was cool.

He drove a nice ass Cadillac. He told me that every star had a Cadillac. That was the car of the industry. His car was really nice. It was huge. I always felt like the whole family could fit in there. I loved riding around in it. It made me feel like a star. It felt like we were driving in slow motion. Like all of the eyes of the people on the street were on us.

Everyone knew him too. Everywhere I went with him was like being with a rock star. People walking up to us. Shaking his hand. Everyone laughing and smiling at him. Even when I wasn't with him people were acknowledging him. "Ain't you Willie nephew?" is what I would hear all day long. There were also the women.

Yeah, I had my aunt Janet. I've always known her as his wife. She was the constant. She was the one that I saw most of the time. There was quite a few occasions where Aunt Janet wasn't with him. That's when I would meet the other women. They never were the same. A Linda here and a Cathy there. He always told me that a man always had to have a lady on his arm. Sometimes I'd wonder where Aunt Janet was but then next week there she would be. Along with my three dollars. My regular two dollars and the extra one for not saying anything about Cathy.

Far as I knew Uncle Willie was a musician. He sang and played the guitar and the piano. He always told me that I had to wait until I was grown to go to one of his shows. He said they were for adults only. I was always confused by that. I would see other stars on T.V performing all the time. There was always kids there. A few of my friends have even been to shows. He still insisted that his shows were only for adults because of the smoking and drinking. He also said that those other shows were for kids, and they weren't stars like him. He told me that he was the best. I loved and admired my Uncle Willie throughout my entire childhood. He was my best friend.

As I got older my relationship with Uncle Willie had changed. I started noticing things that other stars were doing that Uncle Willie wasn't. I noticed that all of the other stars had big, beautiful homes. They had nice cars. They were being interviewed and told stories of how they took care of their parents. My grandfather doesn't even have a tombstone. My grandmom moved in with us. There were times where Uncle Willie was here for the entire weekend.

Where was Uncle Willie's house? What happened to Uncle Willie's money. Why wasn't Uncle Willie on T.V? These was some of the questions that I started to have, and I would ask him. "Hey Uncle Willie. Why you're not on T.V.?" He would always tell me that they were the sellouts. That he's not willing to do all of the shit they had to do to get there. "Why can't we never go over to your house Uncle Willie?" It was always because of Aunt Janet. Janet done found out about Cathy and she put him out. He's in a hotel at the moment.

"Why didn't you buy us a house Uncle Willie?" It was because I had a father, my mother had a husband. Uncle Willie told me that it was my dad's responsibility to provide for my mother, my sister and me. "Why didn't pop-pop have a tombstone Uncle Willie?" Well my grandmother was a proud woman. She was ashamed that she couldn't get a stone for her husband. So, she didn't want Uncle Willie to buy one.

It became excuse after excuse after excuse. My father even told me that Uncle Willie was a bum. Matter of fact his exact words were "No good piece of shit!" I didn't want to believe him. I didn't want to accept it. Then that high school project came along. That project that changed my life forever. I was told by my teacher to interview someone that I admired. Most of the other kids were choosing their grandfathers. Alot of their grandfather's had started their own businesses or fought in some war.

Some of the kids chose their mothers. A lot of their mothers were single moms working two jobs to put food on the table. It was commendable that they were able to take care of their children. Me I thought I had the best one. I was going to interview my Uncle Willie. My Uncle Willie was a star.

Boy were my feelings hurt when Uncle Willie told me that he wouldn't do the interview. He told me that my grandfather was in the army. I didn't care, he wasn't a star. He told me my father was a hard working man. I didn't care, he wasn't a star. He told me that my mother worked two jobs and took care of the family when my dad couldn't find a job. I didn't care, she wasn't a star. That was when I found out the truth about Uncle Willie.

He said " I'm broke. I've been broke my entire life. I gave you that two dollars when I only had four. I was nothing more than a two-bit hustler. Nobody called me William James Thomas Jr. I just told you that because it sounded important. All of those hats and fancy clothes came from the Salvation Army.

That flask that I always had was because I was an alcoholic. Smoking cigarettes wasn't cool. I was addicted to them. I smoked them because I couldn't help myself. I wasn't getting beat up because I was standing up for myself. I was getting beat up because I owed them niggas money! I talked shit to cover it up.

That Cadillac belonged to your grandfather. He let me have it once he wasn't able to drive anymore. That was the only thing I had to my name. I even had to give it away and get it back twice to pay off some debts. Your Aunt Janet really is my wife. I married her when I was a good man. When I was able to keep a job. Before the alcohol took over. She gave me chances time and time again. When I said that I was kicked out of our home that was true. The lie was that it was Aunt Janet's home. It wasn't some fancy house in the hills. It's the same exact house you live in four blocks away.

That was why everyone knew me. It wasn't because I was famous it was because I was from the neighborhood. Most of the guy's hands that I shook were going to sell me crack later on. That's right I smoke crack. I'm a crackhead. I'm still embarrassed by the fact that I can't buy my daddy a tombstone. I'm still embarrassed by the fact that I stole my mother's property tax payments, and she lost her home.

Your parents hate me for real. They only let me come around to see my mother. They only let me stay those weekends because my mother would beg them. Sometimes she even paid them for me to stay. I did play the piano and the guitar. I did sing pretty good at times. It was never at the bars and nightclubs that I told you about. It was usually on street corners begging for change. I was never going to be one of those stars you saw on T.V.

I messed up everything in my life. My wife, my family and friends, everyone that I loved in my life hated me. All I had left was you and my momma. I loved the way you looked up to me. I loved the way you were so interested in my life. So, I lied to you. For that I apologize. I just didn't want to lose you too. All of those lies were between me and you. I can't have you going to school and embarassing yourself. I couldn't have you spread all of my bullshit around town and having it come back to you. So, I would appreciate it if you did your project on someone else."

I got an A on that project. I still did that project on my Uncle Willie. I told them all about the Cadillac. I told them all about the clothes and the money. I told them all about the singing and the piano and guitar playing. I told them all about the drinking and the cigarette smoking. I told them that my uncle was a Star!

Then I told them the truth. I told them about the crack. I told them about the stealing. I told them about all of the lying. I told them that it was really my grandfather's car. Then I told them that I still admired my Uncle Willie. Growing up he fulfilled my dreams; he fed my fantasies. Yeah I know that it was all lies to him but it was real to me.

That feeling that I had during those rides in the Cadillac was real. The pride that I felt walking those streets with him was real. The joy that I had to see him was real. The amazement that I had watching him smoke those cigarettes and pour liquor out of that flask was real.

I told them that my uncle was the greatest actor that I had ever known. That was a little joke I threw in there. I told them even though everything about him was a lie, it was because the love he had for me was real. Then when it all was said and done. He was man enough to tell me the truth when he realized that his lies were going to affect my life. So, I admired my uncle and I still do to this very day.

When my uncle passed away, I found out that he was really a star. He was a star to me at least. Then one day as a I was walking down the street. I look up at the wall that was normally just the side of the bar. What do I see on that wall but a picture someone had painted of My Uncle Willie.

Every day for the next week or so I would go by there to look at that picture. Every day for that week or so someone else would be there with me. Telling me a story about my Uncle Willie. So now as a stand here looking at his picture with my son. I say, "Son that was your great Uncle Willie, and he was a star!"

That's right Uncle Willie, you are finally famous!