Sunday, December 03, 2006

Trains, trains...

The other day I received a package in the mail. It was thick--felt like a box of greeting cards--and the return address read The Binnacle. Well, looky there, I thought, they have probably folded, can't publish the story of mine they accepted, and are sending me a box of Christmas cards in remuneration. *sigh* As it turns out the box of cards WAS the magazine. Looked a lot like this:

This is called alternative publishing. I don't hate it. It has grown on me. As a matter of fact, I quite like it. A box full of stories and poems and artworks, each their own little accordion paper.

Speaking of artwork, they also published the fancy (ahem) piece of brush and ink I worked up for the piece.

I've got a thing about trains, especially over crowded ones. It's a love hate thing, mostly hate.

But last night...

I attended a wedding party of a co worker (that has or shall be blogged soon, as vast amounts of alcohol were consumed and I made an ass of myself ... yet...again). I took a relatively late train home so of course it was relatively crowded as well. You see, I have never acquired a sturdy pair of train-legs and must use those plastic rings hanging from the ceiling to keep from falling all over the place. I slip into the car...

Now the key to this story is that it is winter and we are all dressed in cushy coats, scarfs and mittens -- okay, no mittens, but soft bear-like clothes. Crowded trains in the summer are another beast all together, sweat and sticky and skin, strangers. Bleh.

It is winter.

I reach over and grab a ring and I'm not letting go. Soon I notice that I've wedged myself in between three brothers (they all have the same nose, this is how I know they are related). This is all fine. I'm protected; I'm wearing a coat. I'm hanging my head down. I got Chili Peppers on extremely loud in my ears. I begin to examine three that surround me.

One brother is round and has scant hair and is short, the second sorta dark-skinned, medium build but with creepy eyes. Now, the last brother is a tad taller than me, thin, he's got this amazing Adam's apple that is going up and down, up and down as he talks. He has this chin that is starting to grow in a beard and eyes that are almost hazel. I begin to grow infatuated. This train makes a sharp right and I fall into the fake fur of the hood of his smells like tempura...dreamy!


Anonymous said...

Here's a sneaky lead into my birthday present from momo that is now driving her nuts. You were listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers, who made a cover of Ohio Players' funk hit "Love Rollercoaster" for one of my favorite movies, "Beavis and Butthead Do America". More on the movie in a later post. Anyways, while momo was checking out her most recent list of obscure mid-century jazz releases at the local CD superstore at the superoutletmall, I was going through the cheapo bin of compilation CD's. You know those - "Sounds of the Sixties", "Songs for a Summer's Eve", "Hot Rocks, Vol. XXII" - and I came across one of those double-length CD folders in shades of shocking pink with pictures of both Rick James and the lead singer of Kool & The Gang in their glory years. "The Greatest Funk Hits of All Time" it said. Not true. They were missing quite a few and they had a couple of songs from decades after real funk died, but they had a lot of hits and a lot of great bands, but also a lot of tunes I didn't recognize by names of bands that might have been more familiar if I hadn't damaged my memory so regularly back then. It was $20 for a three CD set, and while I was debating with myself on whether or not it was worth it, momo came up to me and asked me about it. I tried to explain funk and then sang a few bars of "Love Rollercoaster", "Carwash", "Funkytown", and "Get Down on It", but she didn't recognize any of them, even after I reminded her of an episode of "Malcolm in the Middle" where the father was disco rollerskating to "Funkytown". She then offered to buy it for me for a birthday present, although at the time I got the impression that she was just trying to get her 50 year old husband to quit gettin' his funk on so close to the check out line. We get into the car, and I want to listen. Disc One opens with "Super Freak" by Rick James, and it only gets better from there, with the Commodores, Kool & The Gang, Con Funk Shun, Parliament, and others, ending with James Brown. Disc Two is even better with Ohio Players, Marvin Gaye and Rufus featuring Chaka Khan, and Disc Three is good with two songs by The Brothers Johnson even though it's got several songs from the late 80's and even a couple from 1990. I sampled on the way home, and then once there, I put the tunes through my good speakers (they are a story of love gone right), my 1979 Infiniti Quantum Juniors. The next day I left to wash the car with a set of CD's momo had burned for my car collection. When I got back, Disc Two was playing on the big speakers. I looked in the office as I went to the bedroom, and saw that she had cut three for herself, too. She complained of funky earworms on Monday night, and now, by Wednesday, I'm sure she's become a funkaholic. Out with Thelonius Monk and Oscar Peterson and in with The Gap Band and Parliament!

Kappa no He said...

I may not know a thang about jazz (except all ex jazz drummers make wicked rock drummers) but... funk!

That reminds of years ago when my husband sat me down late one night and began to play all these funk bands one after the other, focusing on the bassists, 'Listen to that grooove! Do you hear it?' All night long. I got a good dose of those funky earworms myself.

It is nine O'clock pm. I have a plane to catch tomorrow after lunch. I have yet to pack my carry ons. I have yet to post at least two other blogs I have started. I have yet to finish the hunkin' S.King novel, Lisey's Story that I refuse to carry on the plane. Gonna be an all nighter, boys!