A True Wino Story in Honor of August Wilson

Posted on July 31, 2025 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

One of the things I loved most about the late playwright August Wilson’s work was that his plays on Black life insisted on the importance of every member of any given Black community. Wilson crafted his plays based on his experiences hanging out and observing the denizens of the Hill District of Pittsburgh.

Cab drivers, beauticians, bums, architects, lawyers, bricklayers, members of the Nation of Islam, you name it—they all contributed to the love and humor that made up Black neighborhoods throughout the 1960s and 1970s of my childhood.

I remember when I first read an excerpt of comedian-turned-activist Dick Gregory’s autobiography “N*gger.” I was in 8th grade. I was impressed by Gregory’s statement that he was fond of winos because they never hurt anyone but themselves. I grew up watching and imbibing all of my people in all of their varieties at the corner of Hunter and Ashby Streets (now MLK Drive and Joseph E. Lowry Blvd.)

Back in the 1960s there was “Bo” the wino. Bo’s brain was so pickled that he never could understand that I was a girl. Never mind that I had two long braids with ribbons. When Dad ventured to that intersection of Hunter and Ashby Streets without me and he ran into Bo, the question was always the same, “How is that boy?” Daddy responded with the same information he always did. “Bo, I have a daughter.”

My Aunt Ella who was called “Sister” or called by me “Aunt Sis,” owned and ran Top Cats Fish Market. I always loved the painting on the side of the building of the cartoon character “Top Cat.” Winos like Bo and Mumbles would stop by and sweep the floor or wash the windows for a few coins so that they could purchase their wine for the day. “Sister let me have a dime,” Bo would request. “Bo, I don’t have a dime,” she would respond. “You a damn lie,” he would answer.

I never will forget the time Bo came by her fish market and there was a Black physician there who needed his car washed. Bo gladly offered to wash his car. Now, back in the day it was not uncommon to pour some expensive whiskey into a beautiful flask as a gift for a friend. It was also not uncommon to pay a wino anywhere from 10 cents to a few bucks to wash a car or sweep a floor.

Bo went out to wash the doctor’s car. When the doctor paid Bo a few dollars for washing his car, the doctor looked in the backseat of his car and discovered that his flask of whiskey was empty.

“Bo, what happened to my whiskey?!”

Bo replied, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t drink whiskey. I drink wine!”

The doctor looked at him and said, “Are you sure?”

Bo responded, lying through his teeth, “I DON’T DRINK WHISKEY. I DRINK WINE!”

The physician responded, “Well that’s good to know that you didn’t drink it because I was carrying that flask to the lab because I think there is some poison in it!!”

Bo mumbled to my Aunt Sis, “I ain’t dead yet.”

©️Leslye Joy Allen

I am an Independent Historian, Oral Historian and Dramaturge. Please consider supporting my work with a few bucks for Coffee and Eggs via my CashApp.

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DEI: Flipping the Script With ARRAY

Posted on April 7, 2025 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

by ©️Leslye Joy Allen

I remember when master filmmaker Ava DuVernay started AFFRM which stood for African-American Film Festival Releasing Movement. Later she modified it and renamed it ARRAY which has gone on to release one masterpiece independent film after another by Black women, Women of Color, white Women filmmakers and other Black filmmakers.

Goddess knows that Ava’s television series Queen Sugar remains my all time favorite television series of all time, right up there with POSE. Her film ORIGIN completely shattered every boundary of how a film infused with activism and history could be made and change minds. If you haven’t seen that film, I really don’t consider you a member of the Left if you haven’t done so. If you watch it, you will not be the same. You will never think the same; and every assumption you ever had, you will rethink it.

(Ava DuVernay here with Dr. Suraj Yengde who portrayed himself in the film ORIGIN. The film received a 9-minute standing ovation at the Vienna Film Festival in 2023.)

There was one thing Ava did when Queen Sugar hit the airwaves. She decided that only women, and particularly Black and other women of color, would direct the show. She gave over 40 women directors their television directorial debuts because, she reasoned, if she did not do it they would never be given the chance.

The irony is that DuVernay’s production of Queen Sugar earned recognition as one of the most ethnically and racially diverse crews in television history. Ain’t that something?

So, here’s something to think about. Ava DuVernay has some real badass men around her. Yet, ARRAY was and still is staffed primarily with women; and this company has run like a top since its inception.

So, here’s something else to ponder. Since Felon 47 is hellbent on controlling women, eliminating the histories of Black people and other POC from the record, and granting companies the right to not give a good Got-damned whether any of us will be hired for any job, isn’t it just as plausible for us to not hire or phuck with any of them?

I mean, if I am a Black woman running a successful business and I don’t want to be bothered with sexism or racism, then I can simply not hire any man of any color and not hire any white person of any gender. And what I will be doing will be perfectly legal under the administration of this president. Marinate on that for a moment.

©️Leslye Joy Allen

I am an Independent Historian, Oral Historian and Dramaturge. Please consider supporting my work with a few bucks for Coffee and Eggs via my CashApp.

Buzz About Boycotts

Posted on February 26, 2025 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

by ©️ Leslye Joy Allen

I’m delighted that folks have decided not to shop on February 28th as an act of solidarity to demonstrate to businesses what our buying power means. It’s a great beginning, but to have real impact boycotts need to last for months or years.

Let me share the following. The image on the left is the now boarded up storefront of what was Buzz Coffee and Winehouse in my hometown Atlanta. The image on the right is from a few years ago. It’s myself and my brother-from-another-mother, actor, writer, poet, cultural curator, and James Baldwin expert Charles Reese. We took this photo sitting at Buzz’s tables on the sidewalk drinking hot coffee out of big mugs.

Buzz was a neighborhood hangout where you might get to view a photo or art exhibit. You might stop by for a breakfast sandwich or piece of pastry. You ran into people you knew and you met people you didn’t know but soon found out the trip was worth it in order to meet them.

Buzz closed a few years ago because the money-grubbing c*nt that owned this little strip of property where Buzz was located raised the rent until the owner of Buzz could no longer afford to stay open. The owner has vowed to reopen somewhere, but so far I haven’t seen any signs of a new location.

Now, there’s a Starbucks about a mile down the street further southwest. I have nothing against Starbucks or people who enjoy Starbucks coffee. Yet, I won’t be going there to get a cup of coffee, just like I won’t be buying Folgers that supports Project 2025.

I only suggest this. When you’re keeping your money in your pocket, take a good hard look at the small businesses in your neighborhood and ask yourself how you can help them? Ask yourself what products can you do without permanently? Then just do it.

©️ Leslye Joy Allen

Not As Good As Judas

Posted on January 19, 2025 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

by ©️Leslye Joy Allen

Over 30 years ago I worked for the FDIC in the Division of Liquidation. It was a depressing job as my department sold off the assets of failed banks while we fielded questions from many depositors who were often financially left in in the lurch.

I ended up “Agent for the Class” in a class action lawsuit brought on by the fact that the Atlanta office had hundreds of Black employees, but only three whose federal pay grade was higher than Job Grade-4. I remember that day one of my co-workers came by my cubicle to give me some new information.

She told me that there were two women in our office that had been late for work every day for months. Both women had been caught lying about being sick when they took off sick days. One woman was white; the other one was Black. The white woman was placed on probation. The Black woman was fired.

My co-worker said, “This isn’t fair. Both of them should have been put on probation.”

“Wrong,” I said, “Both of them should have been fired.”

When my co-worker suggested that we add the circumstances of the terminated Black woman to our list of grievances in our lawsuit, I refused to do so.

Now, before all my activist friends jump on my ass for seeming to ignore the inherent inequality in this scenario, let me stress this.

I see the inequality. The punishment of these two terrible employees should have been identical. Yet, back then and now in 2025, we have no energy to waste on folks who keep doing the wrong thing nor the energy to waste on folks that may not be salvageable.

I say this because I have watched Black rappers jump on Felon 47’s bandwagon. Years ago it was Ice Cube, Lil Wayne, Kanye West, Chief Keef, Sexy Redd, Kodak Black, among others. Now, Snoop Dogg, Nelly and Rick Ross, among others are all on board.

I am not at all surprised. All of them are Niggahs of the highest order. Yes, I wrote “Niggah/s.” I have been called a Niggah enough, so I will say it, and write it any damn time I feel like it—particularly when that slur fits the occasion. Snoop Dogg, with an estimated net worth of $160 million dollars, is the high priest of all Niggahdom. Just last year he was screaming about Felon 47 being a racist.

All of these rappers are the same money-grubbing misogynists and sexists and gangsters (with a few females in collusion) that Felon 47 is, was, and always will be. They all hold their noses so that they do not smell the stench of Felon 47’s racism in order to earn their few pieces of silver just like the biblical Judas.

Judas was paid to squeal on and identify the radical Yeshu’a so that Yeshu’a (Jesus’ actual name) would be delivered to Roman authorities who charged him with sedition right after church authorities charged him with heresy. Judas could not handle the guilt and shame of being a traitor who ultimately cost an innocent man his life, so he hung himself not long after he betrayed Yeshu’a.

Unlike Judas, these rappers have neither the decency nor moral fiber to be ashamed of what they have done. Their God/Goddess is money. Like Felon 47, they would sell a loaded gun to a person with a history of suicide attempts if the price is right.

Sidebar: Swallow all that pseudo-intellectual bullshit where you try to excuse their behavior and decisions based on their poor upbringing or their childhood poverty. When you make these excuses, you villainize the poor when you know that most poor folks are not thieves nor people without any sense of right and wrong.

By the time these clowns realize they have been used and conned—if they ever realize it—they will come up with every excuse in the book to rationalize why it was necessary to betray their own people.

These rappers will continue to perform their modern-day minstrel shows while they gleefully wear the imprint of Felon 47’s ass on their faces. So, do yourself and all of us a favor. If you see any of them on a sinking ship without lifeboats, let that boat sink.

Parable of the Sower

Posted on January 18, 2025 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

“…the plant of freedom has grown only a bud and not yet a flower.” — Martin Luther King, Jr.

“God is your first and your last teacher. God is your harshest teacher: subtle, demanding. Learn or die.” — Octavia Butler, (from “The Parable of the Sower, 1993)

I woke up before dawn annoyed that January 20, 2025 is inauguration day for Felon 47 and it is also the federal holiday celebrating the birth and life of Martin Luther King, Jr. I also could not help thinking about how our abuse of the earth has contributed to the fires in California.

A week ago, I re-read Octavia Spencer’s prescient novel “Parable of the Sower.” Butler’s protagonist Lauren, the daughter of a preacher, lives in a safe and comfortable, walled-up cul-de-sac. Outside those walls are desperately poor people, racial and economic inequality, and drug addicts that use a drug called “pyro” that makes its users want to set fires.

Lauren tries to convince others to accept that the world has changed and will continue to change. The others prefer to pretend nothing has happened to the earth and its inhabitants.

Butler predicted ecological disaster by fire coming over 30 years ago, and named her novel after a biblical parable. Right after I finished reading the book again, I thought about how M. L. got his name.

Many people do not know that M. L. (what we called him here in Atlanta) was born Michael King, Jr. I knew many elderly Black Atlanta citizens who called him “Mike” their entire lives.

His father, best known as “Daddy King,” attended a World Baptist Conference in Germany in 1934. Reborn and rejuvenated after he learned more about the philosophies of Protestant reformer Martin Luther, Daddy King soon renamed himself and his son “Martin Luther King, Sr. and Jr.”

In 1957, “Michael King, Jr.” was officially changed to “Martin Luther King, Jr.” on his birth certificate. There are other stories about why and when Daddy King changed their names, but I like this story the best.

I bring this up because another story goes that when the German Protestant leader Martin Luther was asked what he would do if he knew the world was going to end tomorrow, he allegedly answered, “I would plant an apple tree today.”

While I am a believer in Goddess/God, I am not particularly religious. I know too well how organized religion has failed us in so many ways. I am, however, a historian who finds truth and sustenance in some parts of the Christian Bible that the incoming administration and so many preachers and billionaires have totally corrupted.

In the Bible’s Parable of the Sower, Yeshu’a ben Yosef (bka Jesus) tells a story about a farmer who sows seeds in four different types of soil. It is not until the farmer’s seeds are sowed in good soil that he yields a good crop. In this parable, which has many lessons, Yeshu’a emphasized that we must pay attention to where we plant our seeds if we expect anything to grow. We yield a good harvest when we take responsibility for how and where we do our planting.

To place seeds in the ground is an act of faith. When you plant, you do so with the faith that you will yield something. You do it with the belief that you, or your loved ones, will live long enough to reap the reward, be it vegetables or fruits or flowers or justice or equality.

On this Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday, may we go forward intentionally, reminded that we are obligated to be good stewards of the earth that we do not own. California’s fires are the result of our excess and failure to clean up the earth which is the only home we have.

May we plant in the best soil, in the best social and educational policies, in the best radicalism, in the truth. May we sow our seeds in our gardens and farms and tend them with a faith that tells us we will reap a good harvest and that we will have enough to sustain us in order to stave off the worst excesses of the incoming administration. May we humble ourselves, unlike Felon 47 and his underlings, and remember that we live on this earth that we did not create and will die whether we are paupers or billionaires. May we learn the life lessons of one of the best sowers, namely Martin Luther King, Jr.

King’s Papers are located at the King Institute at Stanford University. I urge you to visit and explore: https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/message-director

(Martin Luther King, Jr. photographed in 1964 by Dick DeMarsico for World Telegraph and Sun. Courtesy of the Library of Congress)

Leslye Joy Allen

Social Commentary, History, Theatre, Jazz, and the Environment

Category Archives: Performance Arts