Griffin Speaks

Everybody Plays the Fool

Rudy Clark, Kenny Williams and Jim Bailey sang a song in the seventies that became very popular. It was called EVERYBODY PLAYS THE FOOL. It became one of my favorite songs until one day somebody played me.

The lyrics went like this: (spoken) Ok, so your hearts broke. You sit around moping, crying, crying you say you’re even thinking about dying. Well before you do anything rash, Dig this…

(sung) Everybody plays the fool sometime; There’s no exception to the rule. Listen, baby, it may be factual, may be cruel, I ain’t lying, everybody plays the fool. Falling in love is such an easy thing to do, And there’s no guarantee that the one you love is gonna love you. Oh lovin’ eyes they cannot see a certain person could never be; Love runs deeper than any ocean, and clouds your mind with emotion. Everybody plays the fool, sometime; They use your heart like a tool. Listen baby, they never tell you so in school But everybody plays the fool. And when the music starts to play, and your ability to reason is swept away, Oh, heaven on earth is all you see; You’re out of touch with reality; Love runs deeper than any ocean, And clouds your mind with emotion.

It was Thanksgiving break, 1977. I had invited a young Spelman woman to visit my home in Raleigh, North Carolina. I met this young lady the summer of 1977 in San Diego, California. My summer visit was with my college roommate and his family. The beautiful, sultry and exotic looking young lady and I hit it off well, at least I thought.

Emerson Harrison a fellow Morehouse classmate and childhood friend rode home with us to Raleigh. He later was picked up by his brother and taken to his home in Rocky Mount, North Carolina. Emerson Earl would ride back with us after the holiday was over.

My guest from California was so particular about her eating that she is the principal reason my dad coined the phrase: Everybody in California is crazy as hell! This turned into a visit from hell. She had the window in the guestroom raised in the middle of winter. We later found out this was done because she was smoking pot in my parent’s home. I had no idea that she used the drug. She preferred to stay in her room most of the time instead of participating in intellectual debate with my dad. During this period of his life, my dad’s friends referred to him as Dr. Watashi!

When the time arrived for the visit to end everyone was happy. We returned to our respective schools, Morehouse and Spelman. Everything was fine until I received a call from my mother. She informed me that she had found a letter that my California guest had written to her mother, but torn up and tossed into the trashcan. The letter had been torn into hundreds of pieces. My mother said that she decided to piece it back together when she saw on one of the torn pieces of paper the phrase: the nigger ain’t dumb. My mother said that smoke literally came out of her ears. I asked her to send me the letter.

In the letter my guest was telling her mother that she intended to use me until she used me dry. I became angry and decided that she would never get away with it. I summoned my friends together and we decided to make two thousand copies of the letter and distribute them at Morehouse and Spelman. My guest from California became so embarrassed she ended up leaving school and returning home to California.

In looking back, I realize now that I should not have distributed two thousand copies of the letter at Morehouse and Spelman. I should have distributed seven thousand copies of the letter in the entire AU Center. Yes, Everybody plays the fool sometimes!

Greg Griffin is a free lance writer. You can read his previous articles at www.greggriffin.com