"He was the Charlie Parker of comedy..."

So produced Quincy Jones as the soundtrack of the life of Richard Franklin Lennox Thomas Pryor.

Dave said, "I kinda wish he would have made that full recovery and put all these newcomers in their place."

Our parents had Pryor, Gregory, and Foxx. That's Redd Foxx, youngsters. We have UPN. Thanks Dad. No really, thanks Dad for keeping those well-marked tapes and The Last Poets records.

I remember my homeboy and choir member, Rich Hubbard, coming to pick me up on the way to a Youth Group meeting. Usually, we would listen Kirk Franklin, but I had managed to abscond with his copy of 'The Bicentennial Nigger.'

We sat in the parking lot of Mt. Zion United Methodist Church listening to the colorfully profane language of a genius. Some say he cursed too much. That is exactly opposite of what he was doing. He didn't curse anything. He was articulate. He was an artist who used every color combination available to him.

Picture telling an artist not to use emerald green or fire engine red.

Dear Mr. Pryor,

Thank you.

PS: By the way I loved 'Blazing Saddles' and I hope to meet Mudbone when I make it to Hollywood.