I was reminded in quick succession this week, that my mind works in ways that likely no one else’s does. And the more I thought about it, the more and more disturbing and deeply rooted the evidence of my oddness became. It all started when I heard a co-worker say start a sentence with “I believe. . . ” Unfortunately, as is often the case, they weren’t talking about anything that interested me, so my attention drifted off. To make my lack of attention even more pronounced, my mind went to a completely unrelated, yet completely vivid place. Jackson Heights. With completely different person – Randy Watson. If neither of those two proper nouns means anything to you, the movie they come from might: Coming to America.
Randy Watson was one of Eddie Murphy’s (many) alter-egos in the movie, and in this case Randy was the frontman for the band “Sexual Chocolate” that played at the Black Awareness Rally. And, right or wrong, Randy’s version of “The Greatest Love of All” is what starts to play as soon as I hear anyone use the words “I believe. . .” For your viewing pleasure (and selfishly in the hopes of jamming this song in your head for at least a day), I give you. . . Jackson Heights OWN. . . RANDY! WATSON!
I have several more of these that have occurred to me over the past few days, which have given me some sick and disturbing insight as to the influence 80s and 90s movies have had on my psyche. I’ll pass some more of these on soon!