I originally posted this article on the first OH blog on October 21, 2016. I’m reposting it as/is today, because I have a case of writer’s block and can’t think of anything to post right now. This post actually got some interesting engagement from new commenters when it was fresh content, six years ago. So, for that reason, I’m making it available again for the intrigued. I might be back later with something new, or I might not. This has been a stressful week, and to be honest, I’m kind of tired.
I probably ought to write this post on my music blog, but I figure what I’m about to write has enough in it that isn’t about music that it belongs here on my big blog. Besides, the only reason anyone reads my music blog is to find out about Richard Carpenter’s daughter, Mindi, who probably gets unfavorably compared to her famous dead aunt Karen more times than she can count.
Yesterday, I took my dog to the vet. Zane (who passed in 2019) has had an ear infection and the vet had given us some meds. I’ve been using the meds, but his ear is still full of gunk. The vet wants to sedate him and flush it out. I’m going to try to have a sebaceous cyst removed from him on the same day. ETA: The “cyst” turned out to be a mast cell tumor, which is linked to canine lymphoma. Both Zane and Arran had mast cell tumors, and both went on to get lymphoma. On the way to the vet’s office, I was listening to music. The old Carpenters’ song “Druscilla Penny” came up on the iPod.
Druscilla Penny, what a name!
Are you sure you didn’t make it up yourself?
You’re very pretty, yes you are
But with all the junk you wear, it’s hard to tell
Man, you must work hard to get your hair to look like that
I don’t need a horoscope to tell me where you’re at
Your family’s probably given up on you
Since you began to follow groups of long-haired rock ‘n rollers
I can hear your mother crying for her daughter
Ah, ah, ah ….
Ah, ah, ah ….
Druscilla Penny, what a girl!
Where’s the purpose to the crazy life you lead?
It doesn’t matter after all
You’re so sure instant love is all you need
I’ve seen your face at least a thousand times
You’re always standing there behind the stages at the concerts
Waiting for an offer to be with someone after
Druscilla Penny, how’s your head?
Do you ever wake up lonely in the night?
It isn’t easy for a girl when she can’t decide
If love is wrong or right
I hope I live to see a change
Could you ever really love?
Ever really care?
Ever really get it together? no no
This is one of a couple of songs on the Carpenters’ 1971 self-titled album that features the metallic voiced Richard Carpenter singing lead. I read on a message board that this song was kind of a comedy skit, with Richard singing to one of the countless groupies who were waiting around to get with a musician. I’m sure Richard fielded his share of horny women back in the 70s, though he sounds so uptight and straight on this song that it comes across as funnier than it probably should.
He sings about her crazy life, her love of substances, makeup, and weird hair, and the fact that her family is sick over her departure from respectability. I’ve heard this song many times, but yesterday was the first time Richard sounded downright disdainful to me. Like, I could picture him backstage telling off some poor kid, standing over her like an overbearing father. It just doesn’t seem to mesh with the concept of a famous pop musician. On the other hand, it does seem to suit Richard’s personality. Case in point…
Everybody always asks me
How I got to play so fine
And friends, I’m gonna tell ya
It really did take some time
Yes, after years and years of practice
And a case of real bad knees
Whil the other guys were out playin’ with the football
I was home bangin’ on the keys
And it got me
Right were I am, this is me
Playing the piano
I hope ya like what I do
It’s for you, and I’ll try and sing right too
I guess I’m really very lucky
That I’ve got this thing to play
‘Cause it can really make me feel good
Even when it’s cloudy and grey
Yes, after years and years of practice
And awful allergies that made me sneeze
And now the other guys are out playin’ with their girlfriends
And I was still bangin’ on the keys
And it got me
Right where I am, this is me
Playing the piano
I hope ya like what I do
It’s for you
And I’ll try and sing right too
Someone get this guy a glass of chocolate milk and some Claritin. And maybe something to kill the bug up his ass.
Actually, the whole “Druscilla Penny” story seems kind of funny to me because everyone and their brother seemed to be taking drugs back in the 70s. I mean, Richard himself spent some time in rehab for being hooked on prescription meds. As far as I’ve read, he was not a drinker even in those days, but he did take Quaaludes or something like them. And while Karen was getting some help for her anorexia nervosa, Richard was seeking treatment for his addiction to pills. So why should he be looking down on a groupie whose head is in the clouds?
I know… it’s just a song and a rather silly one at that. It might be funny to hear someone do a cover of it. I bet Pat Boone could turn it into a big band standard, much like he did with Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train”. On the other hand, maybe it’s time I got a life and started listening to music from the 20s.
Love this song. I’ve always thought of it as “Penny Lane Lite,” though I have to say, I’ve never considered it to be condescending in any way. More of a cautionary tale. Considering the mindset regarding the pills he was taking at the time (they were given to him by his mom, who had a prescription), I can see how he wouldn’t have associated the fact that he was taking pills to help him sleep with the rampant recreational drug use he probably witnessed in the late ’60s/early ’70s. Also, I don’t think he had quite developed an addiction yet when this song was written.
knottyFebruary 27, 2017 at 6:40 PM Well, you’re right that this was one of their early songs and Richard didn’t get help for his addiction until the late 70s. Which, if you think about it, makes it even funnier. He was what, 24 or 25 years old at the time? I’m not sure exactly when the addiction started, but I did read that it went on for years until he entered the Menninger Clinic in Kansas.
Anyway… I love listening to the Carpenters. I enjoy a lot of what Richard and Karen did, especially in the early years. This song is a guilty pleasure for me, but I was inspired to write this post because I happened to hear it a different way on that day. And I’ve been listening to it since the late 80s (and probably before then, too).
Hi, I actually know Dru. I met her in the early 90s and we became very good friends. She went to school with Richard told me that she was very hurt by this song. He was judgmental and nasty toward her. Basically, he was clean cut and she was a hippy and he bullied her both at school and by writing and then publishing this mean inaccurate song.
Apologies in advance for this post, since I’ve written about Alan Osmond’s ego before. I’m sure some people wonder why I would write about his ego, given that he’s in his 70s now, is no longer “flavor of the month”, and hasn’t been for many years. It’s just that I recently stumbled on a video done by his eight sons, The Osmonds 2nd Generation, and I was struck by the egotism of the lyrics in their performance… Behold!
Maybe it was a combination of finding this video, Father’s Day, and the Donny Osmond birthday video my sister sent me that has me thinking about Alan Osmond this morning. No, he’s not “flavor of the month” anymore. He hasn’t been in many years. There’s no doubt that he has musical talent, as do his sons and other family members, like Donny. Maybe that talent makes them special. Actually, I think Donny is probably the most talented of all of them, in terms of his dance ability, singing voice, and enduring cuteness even in his 60s. I genuinely enjoyed the birthday video my sister sent and was amazed by how charismatic Donny still is, many years after having been “flavor of the month”. But it seems that at least one of Donny’s brothers is still a bit conceited, and thinks of himself as more special than the rest.
As I watched the video above, listening to Alan’s sons praise their dad for realizing his “dream”, I was reminded of a rant I wrote several years ago when I ran across a YouTube video featuring Alan Osmond. He was bragging about how he was a great soldier who was too important to send to Vietnam because he was a show business performer with connections. In the video below, Alan talks about how Heavenly Father basically intervened in keeping him out of a war zone, despite his superior abilities as a soldier.
The first time I watched the above video, I got pissed off. Why? Because my father went to Vietnam and suffered from PTSD for decades after he came home. I respect Alan Osmond for doing his bit as a clerk at Fort Ord. That is a valuable service to our country. But in this video, he acts like he was Rambo and was spared the war because he had a “higher calling” in show biz. That’s a bunch of crap.
My dad was forever haunted by his memories of Vietnam. Toward the end of his life, he used to have terrible nightmares. He’d jump out of bed while still sleeping, swinging his fists at imaginary assailants. One time, he hit the wall while fighting in his sleep. He damaged his middle finger so badly that there was talk that it might have to be amputated. My dad also had a serious drinking problem that was exacerbated by being at war, where booze was handed out freely. Nowadays, boozing isn’t promoted in the military like it was in my dad’s day. My dad, who came from a long line of drunks and was raised by a violent alcoholic, was a prime candidate for developing alcoholism himself. The stress of combat, along with the easy availability of booze, was devastating for him. And that devastation had ripple effects on everyone around him, as it profoundly affected him. So, when I hear Alan Osmond acting like Vietnam was a big adventure and he was this hot shot recruit who was deemed “too valuable” for combat, it smarts a bit.
My dad really suffered… and I, as his daughter, also suffered. My dad would have been a better father, husband, friend, and person if he hadn’t been an alcoholic with PTSD. My dad has been gone now for seven years, and I’m still haunted by him. I have some really good memories of him, but I also have a lot of traumatic ones. By the time he died in 2014, I had some complicated and confusing feelings about our relationship. I see all my friends sharing pictures of their dads on Father’s Day. I shared a couple of them, too. But the truth is, as much as I loved him, I didn’t like him very much. And a lot of the reason I didn’t like him was because he was abusive to me. I can’t help but wonder if he would have been less abusive if he hadn’t gone to war and come home with PTSD. I believe he would have been an alcoholic regardless, but maybe the PTSD wouldn’t have been as bad. Maybe we could have had a better relationship. I believe he had it in him to be kinder to me than he was.
I commented on the YouTube video about how “full of himself” Alan is. Some guy named David, who claimed to be a veteran himself, took me to task and told me to STFU. I ranted about that, too, on my old blog. Just because I am not a military veteran, that doesn’t mean I can’t make a comment about Alan Osmond’s service. I am so sick and tired of people trying to shut up people who express themselves. This attitude is especially prevalent in military circles, where it’s very common for veterans to ask anyone who says anything negative about the military if they’ve ever served. Whether or not a person has served should be irrelevant. As Americans, we should be able to express opinions about the military without someone demanding to know if we’ve ever served in the military. As someone who has been in the “military world” since birth, I certainly CAN have an opinion about it. Maybe my views about the military not as informed as Bill’s or another veteran’s would be, but it’s ridiculous and short-sighted to assume that someone who is exposed to the military world, even if they don’t wear a uniform, can’t form an opinion and express it.
If veterans who tell me to STFU really cared about real freedom and what putting on that uniform means, they would cherish the rights of people to share their views, regardless of how “offensive” they may be. I have spent my whole life around veterans, and I have tremendous respect for them and what they do. BUT– I have even more respect for veterans who understand that part of serving honorably is doing so with a pure, unselfish heart. Telling someone to STFU because you don’t think they have a right to an opinion is not particularly honorable. Why should I have more respect for someone who joined the military if they don’t have enough regard for me, as a fellow freedom loving American, to let me speak my mind?
Moreover, one can serve one’s country and NOT be a military veteran. I served my country in the Peace Corps. Others serve by being public servants or even being elected officials, although some elected officials have lost sight of being of “service” in their roles. I took the very same oath that every service member or government employee takes. Like my husband, I vowed to support and uphold the Constitution. Taking that oath as a military servicemember doesn’t make someone “special”. Peace Corps Volunteers also take that oath when they swear in, even though they don’t carry weapons or go into combat.
Someone called “Unknown” left me a comment on that old post about how I shouldn’t disparage Alan for being a clerk. The person wrote:
“There are a lot of soldiers that are on the clerk side. Without them the military would not be able to survive. So you are basically saying unless you were in a combat unit you didn’t serve. There are hundreds of thousands of soldiers that are in the offices as clerks. Doesn’t make them any less important.”
And this was my admittedly irritated response to “Unknown”, who obviously didn’t read very carefully:
It looks like you may have completely missed the point of this post.
I never said and don’t believe that clerks who serve in the military are “unimportant”. On the contrary, I have basic respect for anyone who serves, including Alan Osmond.
My point is that Alan Osmond’s comments about what he did during the Vietnam War are in poor taste. He admits that he only joined the Army because he didn’t want to go on a Mormon mission. He felt that he would have more impact for his church if he stayed home and continued performing with his brothers. So he got a connection in the entertainment business to see to it that he could stay in California and be a clerk.
Alan Osmond was never in any actual danger, but he brags about how “awesome” his military skills were. I would think that if his skills were so excellent, it would have been more honorable for him to use them in support of his country. But his attitude seems to be that he was too “special” to do that; his job was to be a pop star so that he could spread Mormonism to the masses.
I am fully aware that there are many “cogs in the wheel” who serve in the military. Each and every one of them has the right to be proud of their service. However, I think bragging about being a typist during the Vietnam War era, especially as you imply that God had bigger plans for you to be a singing star, is very tacky. Moreover, there is a huge difference in simply being proud of one’s service and blatantly bragging about it on YouTube.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with members of the military who serve in non-combat roles. My husband went to Iraq, but basically had a desk job. There is also nothing wrong with people in the military who never see combat, but perform important supporting roles back home. My issue with Alan Osmond is that it’s inappropriate for him to boast about what he did during the Vietnam War era when so many people, not lucky enough to have family connections, went off to war and either died or came home permanently changed for the worse.
Watching and hearing Alan Osmond talk about how he did his bit for the Army and apparently God saved him from the jungles of Vietnam is rather infuriating. There were lots of loving, sensitive, talented young men drafted and sent off to Vietnam to fight in the war. A lot of them didn’t come back, and a lot of them were never the same when they did come back. The same has happened to plenty of people who went to Iraq and Afghanistan, though fortunately those wars have not been as personally devastating to as many people as Vietnam was. We do, at least, have more of an understanding for PTSD. There is more help available now. But it’s still such a real and scary thing that has ripple effects that extend far beyond just the person who has it. When I was a child and a teenager, and my dad would go into drunken rages and lose control of himself, I wasn’t thinking about how PTSD was making him act like that. I was internalizing the idea that he was hurting me because I was a bad person and he hated me. You see?
But our relationship wasn’t always bad. Sometimes, it was lovely, and we could share positive things, such as the dance pictured above, captured at my wedding. We also often shared our mutual love for music. In 1986, my dad bought me a live cassette collection by Bruce Springsteen. Though I don’t remember being a big Springsteen fan before I got that collection for Christmas, I used to listen to it all the time and really got into Springsteen for awhile. One of the songs on it is a very poignant rendition of “The River”. Bruce introduces the song by telling his own story about not going to Vietnam… But his story is so much more respectful than Alan Osmond’s is…
When I was practicing social work, I had a client who was a veteran. He used to tell me war stories. I always got the sense that they were probably about 90% bullshit, as was a lot of the other stuff he told me (for instance, he lied to me about having cancer). I’ve been around veterans my whole life. One thing I have noticed is that a lot of them don’t want to talk about war. Even Bill, who only spent six months in Iraq behind a desk, was affected by his time there and what he was doing. The people who actually do things that warrant receiving awards that recognize their valor don’t usually want to talk about it.
When Bill visited my parents’ home the first time, he saw that my dad, who was an Air Force officer, had earned a Distinguished Flying Cross in Vietnam. It was before Bill had ever been deployed himself. Bill was impressed by my dad’s award, but my dad didn’t want to discuss it. He said that the reason he got the award was “bogus”. I have known my share of military folks. The ones who are brave and do things to legitimately earn those awards are usually very humble about it… because a lot of times, earning those awards involves doing things that they aren’t proud of or acting heroically in situations that end up haunting them for life.
And yet, there’s Alan Osmond talking about the “trophies” he won in basic training for being a great shot and fighting with bayonets so well because he could dance. It kind of makes me want to puke. If he was really that great, the military would have sent his ass to Vietnam, right? But no… he was a typist/clerk in California for a brief time. And he brags about it. Apparently, the Lord wanted him safely at home in the United States so he could be an entertainer and influence people to join his church. What self-important drivel! And Alan didn’t appreciate being called a “draft dodger”. He even commented on the video with more bullshit about promptings from “the spirit”. He was special because as a Mormon, God only speaks to and protects him and his ilk. The rest of the guys who went to Vietnam and came back damaged or dead were not special enough to be typists in California for “the cause”.
Ever since I heard that video with Alan Osmond talking about his military service during the Vietnam era, I’ve had a less than positive opinion of him as a person. But then, when I saw the video with his sons literally singing Alan’s praises in a song ripped off from Billy Joel, I wonder if they came up with the idea to honor Alan themselves. Or were they pressured to honor their father in such an egotistical and ostentatious way? Below is another video in which Alan’s sons “honor their father”, and ask the audience to do the same:
I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that Alan’s sons “honor their father” so conspicuously. I remember the original Osmond Brothers honored their father similarly, even though in later years, they’ve said he was abusive and demanding to a fault. In this 2003 era documentary about being Osmond, the brothers talk about how their hopes and dreams were thwarted by the desires and needs of their family of origin.
We kind of see the same “father centric” dynamic in the Duggar family, as Jim Bob Duggar is repeatedly described as “someone you don’t say ‘no’ to.” Personally, I think it’s kind of egotistical for people to have so many kids. What makes a person think the world needs so many people with their DNA running around? But I know people have their reasons for having so many kids. In the Duggars’ case, it’s that they believe God is “blessing” them and not that they’re just having sex at the right time of the month and farming their babies out for their older kids to raise. At least in the Osmonds’ case, it looks like Mother Osmond raised her children.
Anyway… I’ve got no qualms about stating that Alan Osmond and his brothers clearly have talent. And, as someone who comes from a musical family, I understand the joy of sharing that gift. I’m grateful to Alan for his military service, too. He did his part, which is more than a lot of people can say. However, I would be much more impressed with him if he showed some understanding of how fortunate he was not to have had to go into combat and potentially get injured or killed, or spend the rest of his life forever traumatized by war. I’d have more respect for him if he realized how lucky his family members are that he didn’t come home in a box or permanently changed by spending time in a war zone. And while I think Alan’s sons are also very talented performers, I think they would do well to realize that their dad has a long way to go before he reaches musical genius status. Hell, I think about Sting, who has also been called “conceited” by some… but I have seen Sting perform and watched him generously share the stage with others… and even remember students he had when he was a teacher.
Phew… I feel better now. Father’s Day is always an emotional time of year for me for so many reasons.
Well, it’s time to walk the dogs and get on with the rest of the day. If you made it through this rant, thanks. And please do me a favor and don’t miss the point. It’s not that I don’t respect Alan Osmond’s military service. I just think he’s an egotistical jerk. That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.
The first part of today’s post is reposted from my original Blogspot post from January 2019, when I binge watched Surviving R. Kelly, which aired on Lifetime at the time. Two years ago, Bill was away on business and I found myself watching too much TV. Last night, I finally binge watched the second part of the series, which aired in early 2020. I’m reposting my thoughts about the first part, because I think it’s relevant to the rest of my thoughts about this case.The featured photo is a screen grab from Dave Chappelle’s parody about R. Kelly’s abuse.
I’ve spent the last couple of weeks watching more television than usual. Yesterday, I binge watched Surviving R. Kelly which recently aired on Lifetime. Although I am a musical person, I never paid a whole lot of attention to R. Kelly. The only thing I remember seeing about him was a Mad TV parody song and a South Park episode. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen Dave Chappelle’s take on his outrageous behavior toward young black women and girls. Oh, and of course I’ve heard some of his music. There is no denying the man is musically gifted. Unfortunately, he’s also a predator.
It was interesting watching that series, especially since I’ve also been watching shows about cults. I’ve also started reading a book about a woman who was raised in the Children of God cult, which I blogged about last week. Consequently, I now have cults on the brain. I even dreamt about them this morning.
After hearing some of the stories of the people who have been caught up in these restrictive groups, I’m beginning to think most of my problems are really small. Imagine, being so warped in your thinking that you allow someone like R. Kelly to lock you in a bedroom and force you to use a bucket for a toilet. Imagine letting someone like him do the most demeaning things as he calls you vile names and forces you to debase yourself. The women were all young, beautiful, and talented, and most of them hoped he could help them launch their own careers. I suppose on one level, they might have been trying to take advantage of a man with power that they wanted to share. But then R. Kelly used his gifts to harm them.
I think, aside from the stories I heard from the victims themselves, I was most affected by what their families were saying. I can’t imagine the anguish they felt, especially the ones whose daughters basically disappeared. I remember one mother saying that when a child has died, you know what’s happened to them and you know they won’t be back. It’s much worse when a child gets involved in a “cult” that separates them from their families. You don’t know what has happened to them, where they are, or if they’ll be back someday.
In a way, I think Bill can relate to that thought. He lost contact with his daughters for years. They wouldn’t speak to him, and their mother basically prevented him from having anything to do with them at all. It’s only been within the past couple of years that he’s been able to reconnect with one of his daughters. So much of what I heard R. Kelly’s victims say, Bill has heard from his younger daughter. These types of abusers convince their victims that no one will help them and no one loves them, at least not the way the abuser does. It really does a number on a person’s psyche.
I was angry with my husband’s daughters for years, mainly because they were hateful. In the back of my mind, I knew they were being victimized the same way Bill was. But it still made me angry, because I felt like they knew better. But honestly, I don’t know. I think being around abusers can really fuck up a person’s mindset. It’s frustrating for people like me, who don’t have a loving relationship with the victims. It must be soul crushing for a parent. I know it was for Bill. It’s much worse when there’s sex involved. For R. Kelly’s victims, it was all about sex, control, and power.
I listened to the mothers of R. Kelly’s victims, and a couple of the fathers, too. Some of the family members had the distinct displeasure of seeing their loved ones engaged in videotaped sex acts with the singer, which later ended up as porn videos for sale to the masses. I can’t even imagine how devastating that must have been on so many levels. Perhaps today, I should watch something a little lighter, like 80s era sitcoms.
In any case, Bill’s weird schedule is done for this week. We’re leaving town tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it, because I need a change of scenery and a chance to have some fun. Hopefully, we’ll have decent weather. Next week, he’ll be TDY in Germany. The week after that, TDY in the USA. Then, it should be smooth sailing for the next couple of months. (ETA: in 2021– boy do I miss being this carefree… but I sure hate the long TDYs)
And now, my thoughts in 2021, having seen the second part of this series…
Yesterday, as I recovered from my traumatic morning and irritating visit to the vet’s office, I came home and watched the second half of Surviving R. Kelly, which aired on Lifetime about a year ago. In that series, survivors and R. Kelly’s relatives talked about what went wrong with R. Kelly to cause him to hate women so much.
R. Kelly grew up in a house full of women. From the age of eight until he was about fourteen, Kelly was sexually abused by an older female relative. He was also sexually abused by male relatives. He never said anything about the abuse, but it obviously affected him. As he developed his obvious musical gifts, writing beautiful, inspirational hit songs like “You Are Not Alone”, which Michael Jackson made a hit, and “I Believe I Can Fly”, which is a staple at graduations, a hatred was simmering inside of him.
As I listened to the stories told by R. Kelly’s victims, young women who had been asked to meet him or work with him and were lured into his “sex cult”, I was reminded of so many other stories I’ve heard. In my post from 2019, I mentioned my husband’s experience with his ex wife. Bill has told me many times that he believes his ex wife hates men. That hatred comes from years of abuse at the hands of people who were supposed to protect and nurture her.
This morning, I reposted several book reviews about the Josef Fritzl case. Fritzl, as some may remember, is an Austrian man who kidnapped his own daughter and kept her underground in a dungeon for 24 years. He repeatedly raped and impregnated her. But before Fritzl was a monster, he was also an abused child. He was raised by a woman who beat him. The beatings only stopped when he finally got big enough to fight back. But Fritzl’s mother was also an abuse victim. According to one of those books I read and reviewed, Fritzl’s mother spent time in a concentration camp for refusing to house German officials. She had been cold and abusive before she went to the camp, but was much worse when she came home.
It’s no secret that child abuse, particularly sexual abuse, is devastating and damaging on many levels. Hearing so many stories of people who turned out to be manipulative, cruel, and predatory, I notice how many of them turned into legitimate monsters when they became adults. It’s like they revisit the horrors of their childhood on anyone they can. R. Kelly’s victims were mostly women who worshiped him for his talent and celebrity. He started with them the way many toxic people do… luring them with promises of help with their careers, superficial charm, and “love” that they weren’t getting at home.
Jerhonda, one of the women whose story I listened to yesterday described her mother as “uncaring”. She said her mom literally wasn’t interested in where she was or what she was doing. I was astonished by her story. She is a beautiful young woman, talented and intelligent, who had no adults in her life who cared about what happened to her. She fell into R. Kelly’s clutches. He was very nice to her at first, and seemed to care about her. It was like a drug, that regard that her mother had denied her. Once he had her trust, he her where he wanted her. That’s when Kelly changed and became an abusive monster.
Story after story was the same… and when one of the women was finally brave enough to say something to authorities, they didn’t believe her. So many of those women wound up suing R. Kelly and getting settlements that required them to stay silent. One woman named Lanita Carter, 24 years old and the mother of three when she met Kelly, was hired to braid his hair. He barely paid her for her work, but because she was associated with him, she picked up more clients. She fell prey to him, too… and finally had enough when he ejaculated on her face. He asked her for a “head massage”. She said she didn’t give massages, and he clarified that he was looking for her to massage his other “head”. He demanded oral sex and spat on her repeatedly.
Carter woke with her eyelashes sticking together with Kelly’s semen. One would think this egregious assault– especially one that could have significant health consequences would be enough to garner interest from the police. Imagine someone having so little respect for another human being that they’d do something as horrible as what Kelly did to Carter. She wasn’t the only one who received that extreme level of disrespect, either. R. Kelly was notorious for debasing his women with his body fluids. I can only guess it comes from lingering hatred of someone who abused him when he was a powerless child.
But when Lanita told the police about what R. Kelly did, they interrogated her. And when they went into R. Kelly’s home, they demanded that she give them information about the place that only someone who had been there would know. Carter was able to give them the information. They gathered evidence… but Kelly still wound up being sued instead of incarcerated for what he did. And when Carter spoke to the Chicago based personal injury lawyer who arranged settlements with Kelly, she wasn’t believed because– get this– she was TOO OLD! Carter eventually got two settlements from Kelly– one for $650,000 and the other for $100,000, which Carter got because Kelly wrote a song about having sex with the woman who braided his hair. Kelly was allowed to maintain the status quo, victimizing more girls and young women. In her interview, Lanita Carter says that the money didn’t heal the damage done to her.
I was also moved by listening to the women talk about how Black people, particularly women, are discouraged from reporting crimes to the police. This is because Black people are typically “over-policed” in the United States, and calling the police is seen as a betrayal of the community. So predators like R. Kelly, who are already surrounded by “yes people” due to their talent, money, charisma and fame, continue to get away with abusing other people unabated.
It wasn’t until the first part of this documentary series was released that R. Kelly was finally arrested and held accountable for his crimes against women. It’s shocking that it took so long and the cooperation of a cable channel to make R. Kelly accountable to the law. He is now in prison, awaiting a trial on federal charges. His music is tarnished, and he’s left so many victims in his wake.
I couldn’t help but notice one victim, Joycelyn Savage, was so entrenched in R. Kelly’s lies and abuse that at the end of the documentary, she was still in Trump Tower. She was still loyal to R. Kelly, and her anguished family continued to pray for her return. Savage is one of several of Kelly’s victims who came from a caring family. I was struck when I heard that Kelly had a place in Trump Tower. It seems rather appropriate that a notorious sex offender would live in a building named after another notorious sex offender and egregious hater of women like Donald Trump. And when I heard her insist that she was “happy” with Kelly, it reminded me of listening to people entrenched in cults.
People are still championing R. Kelly, just as they are championing Donald Trump. R. Kelly is truly disgusting… but the person he is didn’t form in a vacuum. He was a victim of abuse. I’ve heard so many stories about “monsters” who were victims when they were children. This is why I think we must pay more attention to child abuse. It’s not something that should simply be survived. I think about how many people could have been spared the horrors of R. Kelly’s adult attempts to exorcise his demons if someone had simply helped him escape his nightmarish childhood.
If you can stomach watching the series, I recommend it. It’s a good warning about child abuse, as well as becoming too adoring of stars. They have clay feet, just like the rest of us do.
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