The Hardest Hitting Man in Show Biz
Life Lessons
09.12.2008
And he was very much in the house one evening at Busch Gardens amusement park in Williamsburg, Va.
As the pop culture writer for The Daily Press in Newport News, I was there to cover his concert. Not just there, as in at the show, I was in the dressing room for an interview. Brown was in fine form, decked out in a shiny shirt, tight trousers, completed with a tough guy attitude. He was also very attentive to the regal woman in the room with us, who he introduced as Adrienne Brown. “Hello, Adrienne,” I said innocently. Suddenly, the world-famous peacock chest of the greatest soul singer ever was crowding into my considerably slimmer torso. James Brown was in my face. “That’s Mrs. Brown to you!” he exclaimed in that scratchy yowl. “MISS-US Brown!!” “Right,” I answered as my reporter’s notebook tumbled out of my hand. “Mrs. Hello. Mrs. Brown. Hello.” The interview didn’t get much better, but the show was a furnace of funk. Maybe I lit a fire in him. Not a bad day’s work for a 22-year-old.
