Sunday Music

The temperature dropped sharply. Yesterday midday / early afternoon we were in the late 20s° C. A “weather” approached, windfists hit the building (I think it swayed a bit), and in the evening one could watch lightning on the horizon, wandering from West, via North to East. I slept badly. Today it’s all cloudy, fresh. The rain was good for earth and plants.
Yesterday evening I felt a bit blue at the edges, crackling, sometimes life seems to be a long succession of goodbyes. After some time in search for a Sunday Music I gave in and went to bed – in the end it would have been another melancholic Purcell song by Deller or some such. And as much as I like Alfred’s voice, not today darling.
So it is time to turn to another classic, from Herbie HANCOCKs (Ger., Eng.) 1964 album Empyrean Isles (Eng.) a little number called Cantaloup Island (Ger., Eng.) – hope you enjoy it !

*

*

Dravel Tream

And how would it be  … ?  Being away, “free”, floating ?
No obligations, no “other half”, no persons no job no limits. Nothing that pins one down to a certain situation or designation, a place on earth or on mind. Free to move, to follow whims – and, let’s assume, no monetary limits – ? Unbehaust, perhaps ?
With the smallest bag for essentials and spare clothes, a very useful west with pockets to carry stuff at the body, some electronic devices to keep you connected. And the best shoes one can buy for money : Shoes are essential !
I’d carry a pair of dancing shoes in a spare bag. Don’t laugh. I’m a terrible dancer, but I try, and know how to use my a**e.
Using cabs, buses, planes, boats – all transport where you do not drive yerself – I’m a passenger. (YES ! Of course it’s Iggy.) I want to look out, see the scenery, watch the light … driving is work, I do not want to work, I want to travel : Going places, hey !
How much would a cabby charge in a place like London / Paris / Barcelona / Turino / Vienna / Rome (!) / Berlin / Warszawa or Athens when you ask for being driven around for some hours ? Of course one should have a basic idea about the place, but wouldn’t it be great to just sit and watch – as life pulses by, as architecture changes from imperial via bourgeois to wtf, just being allowed to look at things as they happen.
I’d ask cap drivers in NewYork, Frisco, KualaLumpur, Jakartha, Delhi, Bombay, Peking, Kairo, Tehran, Moscow – and a lot of other places – “just show me the place” : Here is a map, this place’s name sounds nice, oh and here is even a picture of something – let’s go !
I would not snap pictures then – I’d be too overwhelmed with all : I’d just sit and look and allow it all storm at me. I’d take pictures at some points of this voyage, not outer locations, but when it feels right to me, and would have no idea what they’d show.
I’d need some kind of electronic supervisor, something that would record where I’d be. I think I’d get lost after the second aeroplane latest – especially because I hate to fly by aeroplane and it would need some severe drugs to calm me down. At least I want to be stoned beyond recognition when the effing tin can hits the ocean.
Going by ship would be something different : More time, more reflection, better pictures – and my liver would also appreciate.
Is travelling the art of getting lost ?
I doubt. Usually it is about getting from A to B, without hassle, in style, and without too much unwanted surprises.
What I am dreaming of is blowing up the bubble and then pushing it onwards until it bursts, perhaps finding a new direction.
Hey, it’s a dream. And i’m just jabbering …

Bed, Age, Wood

Yes, there is a time in every man’s life when he finally realises that time is not on his side anymore. That the cruel mistress demands a sacrifice. At last he admits that he needs help, easement, alleviation … Especially when it comes to the place one spends a significant part of one’s lifetime in : The bed.
I heard the calls well, ignored them as long as possible, but finally had to give in : “Nun ist die Zeit des Aufbockens gekommen”, raunt der Alte vom Berge …
So I finally put the wooden cases for wine to a good use and placed the Lattenrost (Ger., Eng.) on four of them, one at every corner.

*

Inside out
Inside out

*

Kolossalkonstruktion
Kolossalkonstruktion

*

A Lot of Wood
A Lot of Wood

*

Ach, ach und nochmal ach !
Ach, ach und nochmal ach !

*

Yes, it makes things easier. Yes, I sleep well when so elevated. Yes, it gives easier access to under the bed. Yes, it is the reasonable thing to do.
Und doch …

Sunday Music

Hubah !
This is what the Marsupilami (Ger., Eng.) used to say in the German translation / edition of the Spirou & Fantasio adventure comics (Eng., Ger.) of my youth. The (then) German editor changed all the names – we’ll draw a veil over this ! – but the Marsupilami’s catchphrase stayed. Some day I have to visit Belgium, just for comics ‘n chips, and pay a visit to the Comic Strip Centre (Ger., Eng.).
But why, you may ask venerated reader, is mago hubaah-ing on this cold, windy and pretty grey Monday of the Holy Spirit (Ger., Eng.) ?
After a busy week I enjoyed the visit of a friend on Saturday. I wonder what impression of this usually tranquil little town’s life and market bustle he will take home, details spared since he’s still within the borders of this country, but my fellow countrymen are strange, and trouble sometimes wears ears like Mickey Mouse.
I spent yesterday mostly in bed in a condition of cozy doze, it was very welcome. Today I feel relaxed, soon I will set foot in the kitchen and turn raw materials into sophisticated, tasteful, (and warm !) fine dish – aah my inner Bocuse is on the rise, just call me Paul … So it’s a “Hubah !” of delight, anticipation, warm feet & clear head, quiet neighbours and hot bath – it’s the Hubah of contentment. The prospect of two weeks without driving ahead, maybe, helps a bit.
What would fit better into this very long sunday-ish afternoon than popular music from the radio ? So this Sunday Music is Torna a Surriento, or Come Back to Sorrento (Ger., Eng.), here in an instrumental version by pianist Alberto SEMPRINI (Eng.) recorded 1963 – I hope you enjoy it !

I also hope that at least a little bit of the Holy Spirit may work in this partly hellish world, and perhaps those who make the world a living hell for their fellow human beings would, in a shocking moment of fulgurant self-knowledge, realise what terrible caricature of human beings they are. At least, one is allowed to hope.

*

*