Thoughts on a calendar date

never knew you
always wished I had
heard a lot about you
and felt like I knew you

thought of those
that miss you today
remembered their ache
as they told me 'bout you

was going to light a candle
but saw no need
'cuz you always burn bright
in the places that count

A Glorious Failure in Deconstruction (Redux)

Sometimes, holidays can be a little rough for all sorts of reasons – and God, I have mine! But I wanted to have a good meal, a good drink, and some fantastic company. I knew just who to have dinner with!

Dinner with my friend is always such a pleasurable experience – she always listens to my latest follies, tells me hers, knows how to tell me I’m full of shit and like it - just simply a great time that always ends too soon!

Tonight, as she talked, I kept thinking about our first dinner together, and the post I wrote about it in my old blog. I meant it as a testimony to a beautiful new friend and a wonderful evening – I’m reposting it here as a testimony to my beautiful old friend and to another wonderful evening!

Thank you DH!

Exorcism in process – I realized I needed some good company. But not just any company – someone that I had always wanted to know better. I knew exactly who to contact.

I stumbled upon her blog (the pic helped entice me) some time ago and found the writing of an extremely sophisticated, intelligent, sensual woman! I think I even left her a comment (after weeks of timid lurking) that I thought she had one of the most fascinating minds on the site!

Occasional commenting back and forth on each others blogs gave way to a blogging acquaintanceship – we enjoyed each others posts and comments. The brilliant, prolific writer that she was, she continued to amaze and fascinate me with the subjects she wrote about – the charm, the wit, the intelligence, the sexiness just drew me in (well…, me and a few hundred other guys). Writing was a chore for me, she wrote with such a great stylish flair that I begged (some serious ass-kissing) to meet her to find out how that fabulous mind worked! We actually had met a couple of times in the company of others, but I had never really had the opportunity to sit, talk with her, and get to know how that wonderful mind worked.

I knew her company would be the perfect tonic for me and contacted her about getting together for drinks. Comparing schedules, we picked a night we were both free and she let me pick the location. As real life tends to do, professional obligations forced her to cancel – but she graciously suggested an alternative evening at a restaurant that she frequented. She mentioned that some of her friends would be there that night and that a friend of hers played guitar there. We could meet there early, have a chance to share a meal and talk, and then enjoy the music and atmosphere as her friends came rolling in. An offer I couldn't refuse!

She breezed in all gorgeous and confident, a big smile on her face that lifted my fog immediately. We settled in to our table for two and I subconsciously started to prepare to try and find out what made her tick.

The restaurant she picked was absolutely perfect – intimate, wonderful service, perfectly prepared food. Our conversation was able to flow easily.

I really wanted to learn more about her – and I fear I may have acted more like an interviewer rather than a dinner companion – but she easily answered my questions about her past, her present, her writing, her life – and made me feel as if I was an old friend. My brain kept working though – trying to figure out this ladies mind – when she did something that startled me.

We were eating our entrees and talking away – she was sharing a little history of her career – and I watched her tuck the hair that had been framing the sides of her pretty face behind her ears. She was looking down at her plate when she did this, and then she looked up at me. Thankfully she was in the middle of her story and I didn't have to respond – because all I could do was stare – I was speechless. Her hair like that, her face fully exposed – she was dazzling! I think I hid it well – but I couldn't stop staring.

I recovered quickly, and we continued sharing bits and pieces of ourselves – it was fun, it was intimate, it was relaxed – and inside of me, I paused in my goal to figure out this ladies mind. Dessert was shared, we continued talking all through it, and soon the guitarist arrived.

Introductions were made, conversation continued – but I started gaining a different perspective. The guitarist set up right behind me and soon started playing. We continued talking away as he played in the background, stopping to applaud his beautiful playing after each song.

At one point he started to play a favorite song of mine – ‘Guajira’. We stopped to listen to him and I turned to face him. As he masterfully performed the song, I heard some of the words being softly sung behind me. I turned around to see her leaning back against the wall our table was set up against. She was relaxed, smiling up at the guitarist, gently moving her head to the rhythm – enjoying the song. As I watched her, I came to a conclusion.

Trying to find out what made her mind tick was like taking a magnifying lens to the ‘Mona Lisa’! Analyzing the brush strokes and measuring the different textures did not mean a thing to truly appreciate a masterpiece. One just had to stand back and take in all of its beauty to truly appreciate it. As I looked across the table, I accepted the futility, and just decided to sit back and enjoy this work of art.

And the man sang:

Vamonos guajira
Vamos a bailar
Primorcito
Vamonos guajira
Vamos a bailar

The Last Rose

A neglected garden
Cold air proves
The suns promise
A saddening lie

A bud sprouts
Looking to live
To show its beauty
In this wintry grip

Will it bloom
To brighten this place
Giving some hope
In this harsh home

Or will the cold
Make it whither
Denying all a chance
To see it bloom

It makes me smile
To cheer it on
But I know inside
Its fate is sealed

How funny is it
This comedy of life
That a simple flower
Can mean so much

You’ll never read this
I know that’s true
But believe what I say
Forever…and a day

All I wanted was a coffee...

Pulled into downtown from the backside, near all of the new palaces. I got a little confused on streets that I could once navigate in my sleep. They were too crowded now with buildings that held no life. I was out that night for no particular reason, and since I had Bobbie McGee’s freedom, I went looking for other souls.

The lifelessness drained me, and I thought a cup of Joe might perk me up. Every haunt I knew had been swallowed by the palaces and my confusion was rising. I stopped to get my bearings, and took in the scene. As I studied it, an old song started playing in my head. I looked for a landmark and saw the sign in the distance. Coffee was what I needed, and the sign was pointing the way.

There was still lifelessness around me as I trudged on, and I half expected to run into the Halloween Jack.

Shock froze me as I peered in the door. Expecting stainless steel, formica and fluorescence – I found greenery, woods and soft leather. Where were the world-weary inhabitants? Where was the atmosphere that invited you in, while driving away those too faint of heart? This place was nice, and homey – and everyone was sleek and beautiful. I checked the sign again and opened the door.

I thought I was confused because I was tired, but now I doubted even that. The menu was not making much sense to me and everybody ordering was speaking a type of gibberish. I started feeling like a stranger in my own world. I told the counter person that all I wanted was a small cup of coffee, but I couldn't find it on the menu board. In response, I was given such a sneer that I haven’t seen since I arrived at Swingo’s for dinner wearing jeans and old cowboy boots.

At least now, I could relax in one of the sofas and drink my joe. I reached for my last cigarette and heard such a scream I thought we were being held up! I looked around to see what the hell had happened, and everybody was pointing at me and screaming for me to leave. A waitress ran over and pulled the cig out of my mouth and broke it in half while screaming that I couldn't do that here and started pushing me out the door. Now, I had been thrown out of better places than that (Swingo’s) and a lot of worse places than that, but never with such conviction and menace! What really teed me off was that my last cigarette was lying on the floor inside, broken in half.

I looked around the palace’s lobby and saw a newsstand still open, and he was selling my brand. At least, something was going right. The guy behind the counter was laughing, being that he witnessed my banishment, and between guffaws, he asked what I wanted.

I asked for my favorite brand, and he quoted me a price that was nearly double of what I usually paid. Wondering why I was being robbed, I asked him why it was so expensive. He just laughed at me and said it was because of the taxes. When he saw my confused look (and I’m really getting tired of being confused) he explained that the taxes were high to pay for the palaces. The fog was lifting, I finally wasn’t confused. The taxes were high on my cigarettes to pay for the palaces that were empty of souls and had replaced all the street life that I had enjoyed and now did not let me smoke in said palaces. Got it! I understood! I don’t know how, but I guess it made sense, at least to someone.

I walked out the front door to the street and lit up. Again I heard screaming! Now the newsstand guy was babbling at me at the top of his lungs and shooing me away! I finally made out that I could only smoke a certain distance away from the door. I looked to the left and only saw more doorways so that direction was out. In front of me was the street, and as lifeless as the street was, I didn’t feel like dodging the occasional bus or car. My ride was parked down the street some distance to the right and I figured that was the safest way to go. Actually, I just wanted everybody to stop being mad at me, and trudged on to my ride, aching to get out of there.

As I started out, I saw a pair of eyes staring at me from under a hooded jacket straight ahead. The figure was standing at the entrance to an alley that I hadn’t noticed before. I could only see eyes staring straight at me from under that dirty jacket, the hood put everything else about the eyes into dark shadows. As I walked toward the figure, the eyes seem to stare more intently.

With my luck tonight, I expected the worst. I started to walk with more bravado, lighting up, half to strike a pose, half to have a lit cigarette in my hand as a weapon. It was after I lit up while getting closer to the figure that I noticed the eyes change. The change was from a look of intimidation, to a look of need. I stared straight at the eyes, daring the figure to address me, when in a quiet, polite tone he asked if he could bum a smoke.

He was dirty and his clothes had seen better days. Dressed in about ten layers of clothes, I couldn’t even tell what his true size was. It was the politeness in his voice that made me reach for the pack. I handed him a cigarette, and he apologized again, asking for a light. I handed him my lighter and took a sip of my coffee. He studied me for a second, and I felt like he was sizing me up. He told me that he heard the yelling about me smoking while in the alley, and he figured that I would be an easy target to bum a smoke. I cracked a remark about being such an outcast, and he just burst out laughing! He tried to say that he knew how I felt while laughing hysterically. We both stood there laughing now, laughing at the irony.

His name was Lou, and he once lived in the old flop house that the palace had replaced. We shared some old memories of the dives and the joints that were once part of the street. I remembered some of the characters, long since pinched by LE, or blown away in some headline-grabbing fashion. He talked of the ladies, and while he talked, he seemed to grow younger. I couldn’t figure out his age, but his stories betrayed the generation he was referring to. He talked of Chicago and New York, Detroit and Saigon.

I don’t how long we talked, but my coffee was long gone and my smokes were burning up with the memories. I thanked him for the laughs, and asked him if I could buy him a cup of coffee. He looked at the sign in the distance with such disgust that I knew it was a bad idea. I lit up another cigarette, tucked an unlit one above my ear, and handed him the pack. He nodded in gratitude and squirreled it away in the folds of his jacket. I reached into my pocket for the lighter and an extra ten spot I had when we heard footsteps crossing the alley. I handed him the ten when I heard the young prince walking by say to his princess what a waste of money I was committing. I loudly told Lou to buy himself a sandwich, a drink, a smoke, or a piece of ass with it and he laughed.

I got to my ride and cranked up the stereo –

“Crawling down the alley on your hands and knee
I’m sure you're not protected, for it's plain to see
The diamond dogs are poachers and they hide behind trees
Hunt you to the ground they will, mannequins with kill appeal”

I was thinking about Lou’s last words to me. We had just finished laughing when he asked God to bless me. I don’t really know why, but for the first time in a lot of years, I wondered if that was possible.

I hate to tell you, but ...

"Let me see if I understand this correctly, you’re looking for an opportunity for success, correct? An opportunity to increase your wealth, to fulfill your dreams? Something that has unlimited potential?

Maybe I can help, but let me ask you something first? There are some factors that need to be considered for you to reach your goal……

Do you have someone in your life that stands with you when you are alone, no matter the reason?

Do you have someone in your life that walks with you where you are afraid to go, no matter their fear?

Do you have someone that speaks for you when your voice isn’t heard, that does not let others tear you down?

Do you have someone in your life that sees the vision that you see?

Do you have someone in your life that stands firm when you need to lean on them – that you can count on no matter what?

Do you have someone in your life that will comfort you when you cry, laugh with you when you want to laugh?

Do you have someone in your life that will forgive you no matter the sin, who will believe in your repentance?

Do you have someone in your life that will tell you what you don’t want to hear, not spare you the ugly truth?

Do you have someone in your life that will make you their priority?

Why?

Well ....

If you don’t have some like this in your life, you won’t get where you want to go.

If you have someone like this in your life – then you’re already there!

But, if you’ve lost someone like this in your life – Well……I hate to tell you, but …I’m sorry, you’ve already had it ALL........ and lost it."

Another fork in the road

First blog post I ever created - almost 3 years ago. Rehashing it here to get a feel for this blog site...

I remember that day like it was yesterday - and its already been over a year.

We had pulled over for the night, to rest and refuel. Querida had been riding with me since '89 and we had picked up Shortstuff in 98.

Always together, always a team, we rode the highway daily. Laughing, crying, arguing, playing - we kept driving on - Querida taking the wheel every once in a while.

We had awakened that morning in silence, it was becoming the norm, and everybody seemed to be wrapped up in their own thoughts.

She said that it was time - time for her to drive on her own. Shortstuff and she were going to go on, to take their own road. From somewhere inside, I had expected this, you always really do, just wished that it never would happen.

Funny how we were adult about it, deciding to ride in tandem most of the way. Guiding each other and making sure that Shortstuff would always get to where he needed to go. He was sad, but resigned to go on as we decided. There were words better off not spoken, some gnashing of teeth, but in the end, we headed out that day to go our own ways.

I pulled back out on the road again, trying to pick up speed. Acted like nothing had changed. I drove on, like any other day, and then looked over to the seat next to me. It was then that it struck me, there was no one there. I turned around for a second, Shortstuff wasn't there.

I felt like I had just woken up when I saw them in the side view mirror. They were exiting on to a marginal road, I could see them riding parallel, when Shortstuff smiled and waved, and I started to cry.