The Wonder of it All

It all happened very quickly.  Two nights ago a friend texted that he had an extra ticket for the Stevie Wonder concert here in Baltimore.  Last night he and his wife picked me up, and we made the ten minute drive the arena.

The house lights went down, the stage lights came on, and out he walked, with Michelle on his left arm and Barack on his right.  And you know what the two of the said? Nothing.

Because kings and queens bow down before Him.

Stevie talked about love and togetherness.  He got everyone, all fourteen thousand of us, clapping. Michelle was on the beat.  Barack was a little behind it, looking more nervous than perhaps anyone’s ever seen him in public.  Finally, Wonder instructed the president: “Barack, say ‘Hey.’”  Obama leaned into Stevie’s mic and said, “Hey.”  Nothing more.  The place erupted.

The former first couple then helped Wonder onto his piano bench, and Obama quipped: “I’m not here to say anything tonight. I’m just here to make sure Stevie gets to his seat.”  Wonder made a few more jokes and then finally dismissed them.  And off then went, stage right.

What followed was a two-and-a-half hour show with a band that ranged from about 25–40 pieces.  There was a five-piece horn section, half-a-dozen backup singers, and an at least eight-piece string section, along with three percussionists, two guitarists, and a bassist.  And don’t forget a couple of numbers where he brought out the Morgan State University Choir, fully robed.

I had never seen Stevie Wonder in concert before, and now I can say my life is a little more complete.  That one person could have so much talent, and combine it with a message of joy, unity, and honesty, just enough righteousness, and even a little impishness, leading people to be their best selves, can be overwhelming.  It’s not often that a cynical, old bastard such as myself believes himself to be witnessing human brilliance, but Steveland Hardaway Morris is radiant.  It’s one thing to simply know that he is without question one of the great singer/songwriter/muscian/arrangers of all time, who combines his phenomenal talents with a deep and genuine humanity.  It’s another thing to experience it, and in experiencing, appreciate it, to not merely enjoy it, but to be grateful for it.

I won’t be following Stevie Wonder around the country like a Dead Head.  I don’t care if his set list changes from night to night (my guess is that, given complexity of the arrangements, it does not), or if different guests sit in (last night was Sheléa), or if he induces different sing-a-longs from the crowd (“You Are My Sunshine” among others).  All that matters is that I was there.  And now I have known greatness.