About a year ago when I was rounding out my CD ripping in time for Christmas, I was fairly content that I had all of the best of the Old School music in my collection. And so as I listened to songs that would remind me of other songs, I suddenly thought about Richard Pryor. For the longest time, I had been wondering when his stuff would come out on CD. It never had. But now it's out there. For 75 bucks you get the whole thing, at least 6 albums worth. So that's on my Christmas list, if I can find it.
Today kids memorize the lyrics to rap music. Yesterday we memorized Richard Pryor routines. Every kid I knew was a Pryor impsersonator. We were all different degrees of funny depending on our ability to imitate Mudbone, from Tupelo Mis'sippi. (Right next to Threepelo). And yet there were things that only Richard Pryor could say and make them funny. Since his departure from the scene, there has been exactly only one good joke about white people vs black people. That was delivered by Martin Lawrence in talking about how people care for their dogs. The rest is all derivative.
He was a phenomenon. It doesn't even seem right to call him Richard or Pryor because he was always that same surprised, vulnerable man, completely honest and able to share himself with his audience. Richard Pryor. You have to say the whole name.
We've lived with Richard Pryor for a long time - through a lot of his life. He was one of the last symbols of blackfolks that young and old both appreciated. Today, blackfolks are as pop as anyone else. Even Michael Jackson doesn't get to represent any longer. So looking back at his comedy and film career is a look back at the man who said stuff everybody used to think and never say. He got to play the joke that was only funny in one neighborhood, and by doing so made it funny everywhere.
If you ask anybody in my generation what Richard Pryor's greatest moment was, there will be no question. It will be the concert when he said he would never use the word 'nigger' again. For him, like for Malcolm, it took a trip to Africa to see people more for who they are than by the color of their skin. But he was able to make us laugh at 'a crazy nigger' because he was willing to be all that - to go all those places and still remain humble. To know success and failure and to be straight up about it. He, like no black comic before him, revealed an inner dialog of insecurity and irreverance. Not just to prove something, but to be something. And by watching him be those things, he let everybody off the hook.
And still, he was a genius, because nobody else could do it. Nobody.
I'm going to be hooking up Richard Pryor on the Tivo and talking about him more this week. First stop is Silver Streak with Gene Wilder, his alter-ego.
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