In Honor Of John Amos

 

When "Sanford & Son" premiered in 1972, it became the front end of a wave of black sitcoms on network television, largely fueled by the uniquely productive genius of Norman Lear.

In 1974, "That's My Mama" premiered. 1975 gave us "The Jeffersons," another Lear production, and in 1976, "What's Happening" came on air.

I can't say that I ever became a fan of any of those shows. That was largely because I was in my early 20s during that period, just coming into manhood, and was somewhat sensitive about the ways in which Black men were portrayed on TV.

In "Sanford & Son," the title characters were a father and son who spent more time mocking each other than expressing respect or love. George Jefferson was little better than Archie Bunker in blackface. "What's Happening" was about kids, and I don't even remember "That's My Mama."

None of these shows showed a Black man that I would hold in high esteem, a Black man that I would want to be like.

But in 1974, one show appeared that did that - "Good Times."

John Amos already had a occasional gig as Gordy the weatherman on "The Mary Tyler Moore Show" when Norman Lear drafted him to play James Evans, the patriarch of the Evans family. The show premiered on Feb. 8, 1974, and for two years John Amos showed us - showed me - a Black man worth emulating.

James Evans was not well-educated, but he was nobody's fool; he was not well-off, but he and his wife Florida took care of their own; he was hard-working, and honest. He always made his love for his wife and family plain as day - and heaven help you if you messed with any of them - he was not aggressive, but he wasn't scared. In fact, James Evans gave off the vibe that you messed with his family, he'd kill you without hesitation. And without regret.

James Evans was my favorite Black man of 1970s television, and I will always be grateful for the gift that John Amos gave us in his portrayal. And I will never forgive Norman Lear and anyone else involved in the decision to elevate the cartoonish character of J.J. to a level that pushed John Amos off the show.

Amos's discontent with "Good Times" was well known. What I've never heard anyone explain was the view from the other side of the table, the explanation for why James Evans was killed off. In the absence of an explanation, I have imagined that a bunch of Americans simply found James Evans too scary - so scary that not only did they kill him off, but after he was gone someone felt the need to make the next Black male lead of a sitcom...really small. 

And the one after that, too.

In any case - immediately after Good Times, Amos went on to play the adult Kunta Kinte in "Roots"... 

From there he went through a smorgasbord of supporting roles, including as the entrepreneur who was ripped off by McDonalds in "Coming To America'...

..until he settled in for five seasons on "The West Wing" as Admiral Percy Fitzwallace.

But I will always remember him most as James Evans. Now, John Amos is gone, having passed away in August at the age of 84, and all I can think of to say is, God rest you, sir. Thank you for all that you gave us.

Earth to Gemini, Earth to Gemini...we have a faulty transmission...

Aaaaand, just like that, Google's Gemini loses the trust that I *want* to place in it...

I asked Google how many Americans use insulin. 

Old Google might have simply listed a clip from the American Diabetes Association as its top result. But of course, New Google had to drag its AI into the mix, and put Gemini's response on top. 

The problem is, that response is obviously, factually incorrect. It is false. 

I knew without checking that America has more than 300 million people, and that 8 million is nowhere close to being 11 percent of 300 million. So I clicked the link that Gemini CITES AS ITS SOURCE, and saw that 11 percent of Americans - 34 million - have diabetes, and that 8 million use insulin.

I remember when Google's algorithm worked in such a way that the top search result could be relied upon to be accurate. Then came sponsored searches, which meant that the top search result(s) had simply been paid for. Now, with Gemini, the top search result is whatever a really dumb AI cobbles together from reliable sources.

THIS IS NOT A GOOD LOOK, GOOGLE.

Maybe it's time to give DuckDuckGo a sustained trial run.

A PARABLE

A parable is a story with a moral. Here's the story:

I keep an envelope in the glove box of my car, that contains my registration, insurance card, and AAA membership card.

A couple of weeks ago, on Aug. 24, I had occasion to take the envelope out of the car. A few days after that, I discovered that I had not put it back in the glove box.

Thus began the latest episode of The Great Search.

The Great Search is an ongoing reality show, as yet not broadcast, in which Yours Truly seeks to retrieve an object from its designated place - you know, the place where I always keep said object - and discover that the object isn't there. Then I look in the places where it seems that the object would likely be, since it's not in its designated place. And it's not in any of those places, either.

Then The Great Search begins, based on a single premise: the object could be anywhere.

So I move from room to room, searching. In this case, because I remembered - or thought I remembered - placing the envelope in a folder, that meant focusing my search on the piles of paper that I have all over.

I found the folder. No envelope.

Our house has only so many rooms, so after a point, The Great Search led to revisiting rooms, with the question, "Where in this room have I not looked yet?"

The Great Search typically lasts for DAYS - it quickly grows tedious, and often evokes emotional pain, driving me to prayer. It's actually pretty darn traumatizing, and depending on what I'm searching for, it can be crippling. In this case, not having my registration and insurance card meant not being able to drive, which meant not being able to do rideshare, which is what I do to pay bills. So after a few days, it became a very. Big. Deal.

Today, I took another shot at searching my office, by thoroughly going through each pile of paper.

Pile #1 - nothing. 

Pile #2 - nothing.

I gave up, until next time. I needed to get ready to leave for an appointment, even if that meant driving without my registration and insurance card.

Then I noticed this: a totally out of place Target bag...

I was no longer looking for the envelope. But I have been on a campaign recently to stack my growing collection of paper bags neatly in one spot.

So I grabbed the Target bag and pulled out the garbage bag inside it.

And there was the envelope, at the bottom of the Target bag.

That's the story. Here comes the moral.

The moral is not, "When you will stop searching for something, you will find it." Nope.

The moral is...

"Putting anything where it belongs can help you to avoid losing other things, because in the one thing that is your life, everything connects."

The end.