Long ago, when Mercury's had fins and fish had no mercury, rhythm and blues was born. It arrived, it thrived, it grew, it moved uptown, downtown, your town. It got new threads, a new haircut, a new Lincoln.

It went on world tours and appeared on American Bandstand. Time went by, and it fell on hard times, got used, abused and bruised. It drove cabs, scrubbed floors, stood in welfare lines, and almost lay down and died.

But then one day, a new generation walked by, looked down in the gutter and saw it lying there, all raggedy and crumpled-up. Before you could say "GOOD GOD Y'ALL!", it was picked up, dusted off, measured for a new mohair suit and a shiny new pair of patent leather shoes. It was, as it were, collected, inspected, resurrected, protected, and soul-injected with new life.

And everybody said "OH YEAH!"