Paris Daze

Paris Daze

It wasn’t until Veda had been in Paris for a couple of weeks that I realized that she had made the trip just to see me and it was at lunch that day when I realized that she had an “agenda” . Evidently she ‘d heard from my Dad that I was planning to get married and she wasn’t comfortable with that at all. Given the fact that she was a contemporary of my father’s and I was just pushing 21,
Veda was asking me about my French bride-to-be, Jacqueline,who she’d met last night for the first time
“So how old is she then?
“Thirty” I said nervously Veda continued the interrogation:
“And you’re twenty?”
“Twenty one” I answered.
“Oh yeah, your birthday was last month. Did you get my card?” Veda questioned
“And the check. Thanks, it was very generous” I said. It was generous and that was all the more reason for me to feel uncomfortable and Veda knew it. She went on:
“She was married before and she’s got a kid?” This was getting really uncomfortable. It all began to sound crazy.
“Uh huh, her name is Frederique and she’s almost four” and before I could take a deep breath,
Veda asked:
“What the hell do you need that for?”

and I told her:
“I don’t need Frederique but she does need a Dad”
Veda sat very still for a couple of minutes, took out a cigarette and lit it and then, she said,
leaning over the table so close we were almost kissing:
“Sweetie, you don’t need a four year old kid and you sure don’t need her thirty year old French . Get smart, she’s looking for a new life in the States and you’re just a means of transportation
I knew Veda was right but I still said:
“ I’m sorry you feel that way but I know what I’ve got to do”
“You mean you have to marry her - she’s pregnant?” Veda asked, starting to sound slightly hysterical. I replied:
“She’s not pregnant - that would probably kill her at this point” Veda asked:
“ Why would being pregnant kill her, she’s already had one I told her “She’s got TB and she’s not strong enough to have a baby now”
Veda almost screamed:“Jesus!” “You really are insane”and continued:
“I’ve known about a lot of sick love affairs and disastrous marriages but this one is a strong candidate for ‘Ripley’s Believe it or Not” “If you go ahead with it”
Now I was starting to get angry:
“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating a little” I said and Veda answered:
“Obviously I’m not getting through to you at all. Your father says he can’t do anything because your 21 but the real truth is that he really doesn’t want to get involved. He’s a nice guy and one of my closest friends, but he’a also a lousy fathe”
She got up, left a ten thousand Franc note on the table and said
“Think about it and call me in the morning”
I called Veda the next day and told her I was going through with it.
I heard a moan and then “So long kiddo, don’t take any wooden nickels”


I never saw Veda again, she died in Cuernavaca, Mexico the same year Jacqueline and I were divorce

In 4/4 Time

BlogSong

First, the keyboard player plays a little riff
key of C in 4/4
(soft almost tentative)
“I like to type, I really do.
I like the way the keyboard sounds clickity,clickity,clickity click.”

Then she starts to play. Both hands, sometimes a little funky and then
an almost baroque lyricism.
“da da.....”time is on my mind. Time and place
time...time out...times up... next time”
Two beat pause and then she’s really wailing:
“Did some yardwork, pulled a few weeds...blog ,blog,blog”

The drummer breaks in with a short riff
“blog on Estte, I’m reading”
And another longer drum solo,
pause and another:
“time out now, it’s morning...
most times, the details of our lives consume our time”
and the keyboard comes back with another long plaintive solo
“ty, I think I will.... I’m at home
...so much time has passed, the personas are cracking...
I’ve just got time to get back on line”

Keyboard and drums alternate for a while and
JB breaks in with his tenor
He honks & wails screams in high C and growls:
“...Being the literary genius that I am.....eaten but torn to pieces and devoured in a gory way...
something that doesn’t evaporate the moment you sign off..”
and the beat goes on for about 30 pages, mostly keyboards, drums and tenor
with very occasional riffs by trumpet.
“...Lili gets her knickers twisted because Bono says fuck on the air?...
Not metaphorically , not idiomatically but ‘EXACTLY’”
and a late entry by the oboe:
“It’s beautiful to go through time...
maybe ghosts are ourselves”
And that boys & girls...
“THAT'S JAZZ”
The great all American art form - now it’s found it’s niche on the web..
Let’s put our hands together for those great folks in the band

Dream: Jan 16,2004

Dream: Jan 16,2004

1/16/04
Dream:

I am sitting and talking with two men:
A teacher/Priest/Guru and another layman or student like myself.
We are discussing “The Way” (how man must follow the right moral principles.
Up until that moment I have always been skeptical of all religion .
Suddenly I have a religious experience. I become emotional about our discussion
and I choke up and can barely speak the words I was thinking ( about the Golden Rule or something very simple yet profound) and then, right at that moment, I realize the existence of “the way”
There is no mention of God or any specific religious institution, but I suddenly know that I am a believer.
And I ask and wonder: must a “True Believer” belong to some group or organization to follow “The Way” or can he journey on his own. Truly, I know that life is a journey and not a destination “and death is not it;’s goal, dust the art and dust returneth was not spoken of the soul”
I know that “The True Believer” i.e., The Pilgrim must walk with his eye on the horizon, always looking for the landmarks and signposts never looking below or behind to find the way but still can The Pilgrim find his way without a Teacher or an organization?
5:47 AM