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What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore- And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over- like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
– Langston Hughes; 1951
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Andréa Zali Anderson. That's the name that's on my birth certificate. My mother was a blues singer before she had me.
They called her Zali A.
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I never asked where the name Zali stemmed from, being that it's not a part of her government name. I often assumed that it was because of her long-life rebellion towards Papa Drew.
Now my father, Montreaux, is probably one of the best musicians I know.
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