I recorded this in summer 2016 during a solo road trip on my cell phone driving towards Knoxville, TN, on I-40.  It is not studio-quality sound, but it struck me as pretty decent — you will note I keep turning the car stereo up and down (!)
I hesitated to put this out 2 yrs ago because I was a bit angry at points during it.  Does the world need more anger?  I even had this thought during the Obama administration!  Occasionally, here, I bristle into flat negativy and a brief judge-fest.  Ah, well.
Today (Sept 1, 2018) is this album’s 30-year anniversary.  Wow.  So.. somebody’s gotta do SOMETHING (ahem).  I met Smitty once at the 1991 NBA All-Star game weekend in Miami, Florida.  He was leading a small, public chapel service in a tucked-away ballroom on I think the Sunday morning of the weekend.  I was 15 years old and with my dad, a friend, and brother Aaron.  It wasn’t that well attended, maybe 50 folks.  Not many seemed to realize a mega-star keyboardist and singer was playing for them.  Good thing  I was there to give him the prayer service applause he didn’t know he needed.
The story gets weirder — Michael Jordan’s mom quietly sat by herself in the back during the hour-long service.  I knew her face from a Wheaties commercial (I think that was the one).  I quietly said hello to her after the service — and that she was really good on the tv ad.  She was so humble about it.  When someone else bent down and said to her in passing, “nice to see you here, Mrs. Jordan,” she replied, “Oh, I need it.”