For Florida's sole remaining sex surrogate, love is a many splintered thing.
It's not just giant companies cashing in on America's defense industry.
How a throwaway idea at the Barkley ad agency became the "Sonic Guys."
A diner's guide to Texas's oldest Mexican restaurants.
To put it mildly, Legend, who's 26, had a pretty nice weekend. Better yet, other positive prospects lurk on the horizon, including his portrayal of Wonder in a March 16 episode of the NBC series American Dreams that co-stars trust-fund darling Paris Hilton as (believe it or not) Barbara "I Dream of Jeannie" Eden. Although Legend reveres the no-longer-little Stevie, whom he met at a Smokey Robinson tribute and chatted with briefly at the Grammys, he thinks the Dreams cameo will be his last direct reference to his hero for a while. "I don't want everyone to think I'm the new Stevie Wonder knock-off, because I don't want to be him," he stresses. "Him being him is more than enough for the world. So I'm going to be myself."
Some observers might find this claim suspect, since Legend was known until recently as John Stephens, his given moniker. He says the switch was made to draw more attention to his work and to challenge him with "a higher standard to live up to." Besides, he believes that he's the same man no matter what he's called. "Some people may try to differentiate it, make it a split-personality thing," he allows. "But me being a musician, an artist, a performer -- it's such a huge part of my life. It's all me."
An Ohio native, Legend was raised by a devout family, so it was only natural that he would become involved with the Bethel AME Church in Scranton, Pennsylvania, upon relocating to the area in his mid-teens. He served as pianist, choir director and, eventually, head of the music department there between 1995 and 2004, using the salary he received to help pay his tuition at the University of Pennsylvania. In 1998, while still a student there, he played keyboards on "Everything Is Everything," a highlight of Lauryn Hill's Grammy-collecting solo debut, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill -- a killer credit, especially considering that Legend was still shy of twenty. More exceptional opportunities would follow thanks to West, who happens to be the cousin of Legend's roommate at Penn. By taking advantage of this connection, Legend has contributed either vocals or instrumental flourishes to an astonishing list of high-profile recordings over the past couple of years -- most notably, West's The College Dropout, Jay-Z's The Black Album and The Diary of Alicia Keys.
Material like this came from a far different place than the music he continued to make at church on Sundays, and the same was true of some songs that found their way onto independently issued solo platters he put out under his given name: 2000's John Stephens, 2001's Live at Jimmy's Uptown and 2003's Live at SOB's. Not everyone in his orbit was pleased by the disparity. "There are definitely people back in my home town who wish I was only doing gospel records, and I understand that," Legend says. "But I make music that I feel reflects all of my life and not just part of my life. For me not to talk about things like dating just doesn't feel right. I need to talk about my life and the things I think about.
"It's funny," he continues, "because music is the only career that people in the church think you can only do in the church. Like, if you're an accountant, they don't say you can only be an accountant for churches. If you do marketing, they don't say you can only do marketing for your church. But if you're a singer, there are some people who think you can only sing for your church."