Heavy D

It’s still unbelievable and, in so many ways, it shouldn’t be.

As I wrote in my previous post about my own undergraduate mentor, Dr. Rudolph P. Byrd, this must be the season when giants fall. Rapper, dancer, actor, human being extraordinaire, Dwight D. Myers aka Heavy D has been the latest to be taken from us—and it hurts, bad. I am so tired of crying, so tired of the heartache, I’m not entirely sure what to do. I suppose that’s why we writers write. And, I mean, I didn’t even know Heavy D. I never even met the man, yet he is one of the more meaningful men that have graced my life. And I do mean graced.

My body walks through the 21st century but much of my spirit is living in the 80s and Heavy D’s music is peppered throughout the soundtrack.

I’ve been a dancer since seven years old, so naturally, I was attracted to the way Heavy D could kick it on the dance floor. Always. He was not just “the big guy” for whom one might applaud simply for being able to move his body, at all. No, Heavy D could cut a serious rug. He could dance his butt off. And he did, unabashedly. I loved him for that.

I loved Heavy D’s voice. It was deep with a rich timbre and he annunciated well, so I always understood his rhymes. I can remember how many times I would jam to “Nuthin’ But Love,” “Black Coffee” and “The Overweight Lover,” all great songs with some of the phattest, dance beats.

Heavy D is not someone of whom I thought fondly and who lived in my past. As I shared, my spirit lives in the past, especially when it comes to music, so Heavy D was very much a part of my present, which made his death all the more shocking and painful.

Before I popped in Prince’s Batman soundtrack to honor the arrival of the Batmobile and crew to Pittsburgh to shoot the next sequel, I had Michael Jackson’s Greatest Hits on autoplay, every time I entered my vehicle. Technically speaking, Heavy D brought me joy at LEAST four times a week rapping on the “Jam” track with Michael Jackson. Towards the end, Heavy gives us that deep-voiced cadence with a smooth:

“Unnnhhh, it ain’t so hard for me to jam

It ain’t so hard for me to jaaaammm

It ain’t so hard for me to jam

It ain’t so hard for me to jam, it ain’t so hard for me to …

[Michael Jackson busts in]

JAM! IT AIN’T TOO MUCH, NO, IT AIN’T TOO MUCH,

IT AIN’T. TOO. MUCH FOR ME TO JAM!!!”

Pure, unadulterated joy, let me tell you!

And let’s not talk about “In Living Color.” Heavy D rapped the intro for the show and, to this day, it is still relevant, with a phat dance track and excellently expressed lyricism. I bought the DVD package of “In Living Color” episodes before they began to be replayed on cable television. Since I’ve always dreampt of being a “Fly Girl,” Heavy D’s rap remains a staple in the soundtrack of my dreams.

 It’s hard to believe the best things in life are free

So, Fellas grab your girl, tell ‘er that you love ‘er

Cuz that’s the way ya livin’ when ya livin’ In Living Color

Heavy D was positive. His rhythms were complex and skilled; but his subject matter was always a positive spin on the issues of life. I’m going to credit his love of love and his expression in dance for that. Dance keeps you positive because you can create, it’s physically demanding and there is always a reward for simply being in the moment. Heavy also did not curse in his music and to be a young, Black man living in the absolute ignorance of American popular culture, not to mention the hypermasculinity and the embrace of thuggery in Hip Hop, especially during the 90′s, I don’t know how he did that. I guess I should not be surprised he wasn’t getting a ton of calls as of late—but it is to our tremendous detriment, isn’t it? Heavy D never called me a nigga, a bitch or a hoe in his music. In fact, I can’t think of one example where Heavy D disparaged me at all. And he wasn’t corny, he could rap his butt off, had some of the best beats and he could dance. Think about that. And think about what we’ve just lost.

I can’t even imagine if I were one of his real friends and he had actually touched my life with his spirit. You can just tell he was a good friend. It’s so obvious. And I suppose that’s why it hurt me so much when I saw a tweet from dreamhampton that said he had been feeling some kind of way about his career, over the years. Then, a random news report indicated that Heavy D had not performed in 15 years. WHAT?!! That seems unimaginable to me. I’m hoping that is not true. Heavy D is the type of artist who should’ve been filthy rich and employed as long as he wanted to be employed.

But this is America.

And that’s why my spirit still lives in the 80′s.

As I put together my syllabus for teaching African American History, I entitled one lesson, “Now That We’ve Found Love, What Are We Gonna Do With It?” I used that lesson to discuss the ways in which Black America structured itself in the post-Civil Rights and Black Power era. Hence, now that we’ve found ‘Black Love’ (i.e. “Black is Beautiful,” “Black Power,” etc.), what what we would do to usher in our future in the 21st Century?

That was in 2004 and again for a class in 2006.

It’s an exceptionally important question, so I used it again as I organized a “new generation” panel for the State of the Black World Conference in 2008.

I just don’t play with the artists that I love. I carried Heavy D’s love with me all the way from puberty into my classroom as a professor and my work as an organizer.

And Heavy D blessed me again when he joined Twitter.

I don’t even remember when he joined, I just know that my heart leapt for joy and I immediately showered him with my Twitter love, which usually looks something like, “OMG, @HeavyD, I’m so happy you’re on Twitter! You changed my life! I love you!!!”

I can’t say that it’s exactly what I said to him but I can guarantee that it was close.

As I think of it, except for my fear of appearing as a groupie, I would have (and should have) flirted with him. Best believe, if I had the opportunity, I would have taken great care of Heavy. I was proud of him for losing weight and loved his positive take on simply getting healthy. Heavy was never undignified, from the person I could see.

I also learned from dreamhampton’s tweets that he was a wonderful father to his daughter, Xea, and one would be hard pressed to find a significant time when he was a apart from her. In addition, his close friend, P.Diddy, flew out to Los Angeles and paid to bring his casket home to “Money Earnin’ Mount Vernon,” the place of his birth. Now, that’s a friend.

Heavy D passed out after climbing a flight of stairs, coming from a shopping trip in Los Angeles. He had just returned to the states and was struggling with pneumonia. He was hyped about going to see the movie, “Tower Heist,” in which I hear tell he made a cameo appearance. Congratulations, Brett Ratner, you just upped the quality of your movie by making that decision, as I’m sure Heavy D graced the screen. Reportedly, as he entered his apartment, he collapsed and told his friend/assistant, “I can’t breathe,” as the ambulance was called and the friend held him in their arms.

He was being held in the arms of a friend, even as he departed this Earth, because he was Heavy and Our Brother. Sometimes we get a bit of the grace in our death that we displayed throughout our lives.

Heavy’s last tweet was, “Be Inspired.”

But earlier in his Twitter stream, he paid his respects to Smokin’ Joe Frazier (peace be upon his soul), who’d passed earlier that week, he excitedly tweeted about seeing James Earl Jones in a Theatrical version of “Driving Miss Daisy” while he was in London, said he was excited to be back home in the USA and that he loved his life, “because I always have,” and offered even more inspiration before telling us to “be inspired.” My personal favorite is his bio, which read, “I have relentless optimism.”

I want somebody to love me for me / Not because I’m Emcee Heavy D

I’m lookin’ for a love that’s solid as a rock

I saw and loved Heavy D.

I loved what he represented.

And I’m so sorry he’s gone.

Rest in Peace, Mr. Myers. You were a wonderful man, artist and human being and you will be missed.

See you on the dance floor, Heavy!