Sing Not the Blues

Two nights before Christmas,  she struts onto the dance floor swaying and waving. Her right arm and thighs covered in tattoos, a lone dancer under the mood lights. She motions to the three piece band she wants to sing with them. The band finishes the Blues song they were playing.

The lead guitarist asks, “What song?”

She replies, “Obviously not a Blues song, but I need lyrics in front of me”

and blurts out a swear word for not remembering the lyrics to any song she wants to sing.

The band strikes a few chords and use her swear words as the lyrics. She tries to hide her smile of embarrassment, but then she reaches into her pause, pulls out a smartphone and frantically searches for a song. The bartender promises her a shot if she goes on stage and sings.

Satisfied with what she finds on her phone, she waves to the band,

“Am ready”

“Where is my shot” she asks the bartender.

“After you sing, my dear” he responds.

The guitar player chimes in “Already a diva I see!”

She smiles, walks on stage, tells the musicians which song and what key she plans to sing in. She asks the musicians to cue her in. The guitar player hands her a microphone.

Right on cue as the musicians get into the groove she starts to sing a Country song looking at the lyrics on her phone, interjecting swear words whenever she forgets to sing the right lyrics as she sings along. She’s got a beautiful voice.

She sings her lungs out, with every ounce of her body giving itself away.

With a dramatic flair the song ends, she bows to the band, hands over the microphone and heads to the bar.

The guitar player says

“That was great, what’s your name?”

She adjusts her wavy blonde hair and replies “Nicole”

“Good job Nicole” the bass player applauds her.

The bartender hands her a glass of an alcoholic beverage, she raises her glass,

“Cheers”

She gulps it in one go, hands over the glass to the bartender, pulls out a cigarette, tries to light it with a candle lighter. With three more tries, a gentleman and the bartender extend a hand to help, she refuses and gives it another go, she gets it this time, she inhales and puffs, looks towards the band and asks

“You ready for another one?”

“One song, and she wants to hit the road?” the guitar player teases her

“Ha-ha, that’s how it is” says the bass player

“Oh well...” she puffs again, exits the bar with a few cha-cha-cha steps through the entrance where a huge black and white photo painting of Marilyn Monroe welcomes you in all her seductive glory.

Outside, the moon is bright, the temperature pleasant and the night still young for the many party-spirited individuals who congregate at this island known as  Paradise.

So goes another night of live  music hunting for this 21st Century nomad.

A Beautiful Feeling

Its been a while since I truly danced and my soul was aching for it.  I got that opportunity last night. 
Hanging out with some friends who are visiting Key West, we had a  delicious dinner at Turtle Kraals restaurant where I enjoyed a mouth-festive Arepas-Toasted Pistachio & Raisin Chicken Salad plus sweet potato fries I've been craving for months.

It reminded me of the time I went to Blue Heaven restaurant (courtesy of Fareed)  for a most magnificent taste buds exploration, where I had Caribbean BBQ shrimp to die for and  Baby Greens Salad that would awaken sensations in your mouth you thought you never had. 

 To help out with digestion and Island enjoyment, the couple and I decided to bike around town and check out a few music venues. 

First stop was Virgilio's where we found out about Latin music night that begins at 10 pm. It was early and we had time to spare, so we strolled into Little Room Jazz Club (the same venue I played with a Haitian fusion jazz band  last Tuesday)  for some live music and board games. The musicians played hit songs from various decades,  sprinkled in some classic Christmas music, it's that season.

It was time to go back to Virgilio's for dancing. When we arrived the band was already in full mode, dancers grooving to the lively music. Shy as we may, we made it to the dance floor and danced to some Salsa and Meringue before my friends had to call it a night. Being the night owl I am, I stayed and danced the night away in full steam with the other dancers , bar hoppers, and lovers of Latin music. 

 Through chitchat with a few friendly faces, I was made aware of some of the regulars and their nationalities, for at Virgilio's every Thursday is Latin night; a place where Mexicans, South Americans, Africans, Spaniards, and Eastern Europeans are on the dance floor moving to the beat of the music with deep African roots. I danced till my hearts content which at that point was 2 am. 

I rode my bike home through the quiet streets of Key West, with the breeze from the Gulf wafting over me. When I got home and got ready for bed, a beautiful feeling came over me, a certain joy beyond words.

"Dance is the hidden language of the soul of the body"
-Martha Graham 

Bridge over calm waters

Bridge over calm waters

The waters were calm, the day as bright as any other day in the Keys, sunshine and temperatures of about 80∘F, blue skies and a steady breeze. A day to be outside to enjoy the beauty of Island life, a day for a drive far from the hustle and bustle of Key West (if there is such a thing), a day to walk over calm waters literally, not a Jesus-walking-over-water kind of display, but walking over waters on an iconic  bridge.

Of the over  1700 Islands that make up the Florida Keys, about 43 are connected by 42 bridges, and of those 42 bridges none is as iconic as the seven mile bridge. Through the influence, vision and work of Henry Flagler and his cohorts the old bridge was completed in 1912 as part of his famous railway to Key West.

Apparently hurricanes are not fond of having bridges along their path in open waters; the railroad bridge sustained extensive damage in 1935 thanks to Labor Day Hurricane (one of the worst hurricanes in this part of the world), it was reconditioned into an automobile bridge, and  in 1960  Hurricane Donna decided to  give the bridge a severe beating. A new bridge had to be built.

The new seven mile bridge opened in 1982 and who cares if its 0.21 miles shorter, we’ll still call it the 7 mile bridge. The two bridges stand side by side as testaments to human engineering on “the highway that goes to sea”.  The old (famously known as “Old 7”) and the new.  The new bridge for automobiles to drive as fast as speed limits allow for those in a hurry to go party down in Key West, the old bridge for those who like exercising, romantic walks, history and making touristic claims such as: I've watched the sunset on both the Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico at the same time on a bridge over open waters, click it, I might tag you on a photo.

To prepare ourselves for the walk on the 2.2 miles on “Old 7” to Pigeon Key from Knights Key (Marathon,FL) open to pedestrians, my friend  Carl treated me to lunch at Sunset Grille where I stuffed down a Cuban sandwich as big as my head. We ate our lunch to the music selection of a DJ that gave more of a South Beach vibe than being in the Keys, and a guy dancing who was either well-paid to promote dance-by-the-beach-life or he was on ecstasy. Anyways people at the restaurant were absorbed mostly by football games on TV, alcohol and food to care much for the dancing guy, but boy was he having the fun of his life.

It was an invigorating walk, the cool breeze, the sun over the waters like a flashlight through a crystal bowl, Carl and I made the walk to Pigeon Key and back. We got a glimpse of the Island which is a museum in itself. Drove home and took a short swim in a heated pool.

So it was, another day in Paradise for this 21st century nomad.

PS: I hear there are some folks trying to save “Old 7”

https://friendsofoldseven.org/

Bike into Sunset

Have been basking in the sunshine of this tropical island famously known as “Paradise”

close to two weeks now with temperatures just a little over 60०F. This island that has captured the interests of pirates, presidents, famous writers, immigrants, artists, water sports enthusiasts and lovers of laid-back life. Its been a place of eccentric showmanship, a haven for the free spirited, it swoons the spirit of nightlife junkets and woos the hearts for romantic getaways, a destination for creating and celebrating significant events.

Have been here a number of times and spent many a days amazed by life in this beautiful island; the easy going pace (even though some locals complain its becoming too busy for their liking, still its not the hustle and bustle of Miami nor New York),  the friendly nature of locals and the cordial smiles of strangers alike.

I rode into town for sunset celebration so common in this island (there is a daily celebration of the sunset at Mallory Square with plenty of entertainment). I leisurely rode my  bike into town via Roosevelt boulevard where the ocean breeze from the Atlantic wafted over me, my mind and body taken-in by the sights and sounds: boats going into sea for fishing excursions, people on the boardwalk conversing, runners and joggers, sexy roller skaters,  tourists lounging on beach chairs drinking beer, others conversing and fishing, families taking photos, friends playing games on the white beach sands, a mother and toddler in matching red dresses taking photos and videos documenting moments into memories.  

At the pace of the ride, I knew it will be too late to catch the sunset at Mallory Square, I opted to watch the sunset on the Atlantic side at Smathers Beach. With the bike secured, I took off my shoes, walked on the sandy shores and sat on a rock and observed the movement of the clouds far off into the horizon as the evening sunlight gives way to dusk. A mother was silently meditating by the shore, a father taking as many photos of the sunset as he could, a child playing in the sand. I placed my shoes and pretended to be a photographer on an assignment to take a photo that depicts “travel”. I placed my shoes on various rocks and used my cell phone taking photos from different angles with the sunset and the ocean as backdrop.

Following the example of the meditating mother, I sat quietly and offered a few prayers, and then walked back to the bike, not before trying to take those classic Island-life pictures: coconut trees at sunset, boats and canoes lying by the beach on white sand, boardwalk with street lamps,  a colorful sky backdrop, bikers and joggers, a family playing on the sands.

Satisfied of having taking in the sunset, I increased my riding pace so as to catch the end of the celebration at Mallory Square. Rode by Hemingway's house, took a photo of the side placard and then made it to the square. There I witnessed a lady who had come down to celebrate her 50th birthday with her girlfriends join one of the entertainers as backup vocals, they sang that classic  “Banana Boat song” made popular by Harry Belafonte. She is from Louisiana, after thank you hugs to the entertainer and photos, they stroke a conversation with a couple from Australia who are on a cruise.

I walked to El Meson de Pepe restaurant to enjoy the band that was playing Latin music, danced to a few songs of Salsa and Meringue, rode my bike along Duval (the most famous street in Key West) it was becoming crowded, made my way home where I had a delicious meal with the family am staying with.

So marks another beautiful day in paradise for this 21st century nomad.

Tapestry

Tapestry

Something I wrote on a recent travel to California on my website:

http://gbesungu.com/2013/09/20/tapestry/

On a swiveling seat in the observation lounge of the California Zephry, watching the beautiful scenery go by, contemplating the fascination humans have for adventure, the allure of new experiences, the passion for travel, the need for movement, and the yearning for the unknown, I could hear a lady and a gentleman directly behind me facing the other direction earnestly discussing their immense hardships of going through divorce. With a slight touch of humor from the gentleman he wished looking back the proceedings leading to his divorce had been more amicable, and before the lady could finish her statement in support, a woman three seats away joined the conversation.

My head slightly turned, I could see the face of the lady who joined in the conversation. Her voice echoing nothing but lamentation, in no less than a minute or two she had shared with the others and those of us within hearing range her complete frustrations with her husband, mental breakdown, his abuses, deceit, unfaithfulness in the marriage on both ends, and short of explicit details the weight she bears physically and psycho-emotionally of the non success of their marriage; “a twenty five years investment living my life through others” as she puts it whether through her husband or their children. She is on this train to visit a sister she has not seen for twenty five years. She met her husband when she was fourteen years old, starting having babies when she was fifteen and now at the age of forty five she is ready to live “her life”

Unable to bear listening to her pain, as she was starting to reveal explicit details, I left the lounge and when I got to my seat could not help but wonder why? having met another couple at lunch a few hours before who were heading to San Francisco to celebrate their 50th Anniversary. At lunch we talked about the “exoticness” of Africa, yearly camping trips with their kids, track reunions in different parts of the country she enjoys accompanying her husband to (he was an athlete in college). The following morning before breakfast, I sat with the husband who shared more details about their family, their children and his love for woodworking. When the wife joined us, we discussed deforestation in Africa and Brazil, urban population explosion,  the situation of Native Americans and a little bit about music and culture. They informed me of how much they are loving the trip especially the wonderful people they are meeting for example a Dutch couple who are traveling the United States for the first time and have been crisscrossing the country.

Not long after, I stroke a brief conversation with a young English couple who are on vacation in the U.S and have six more nights before heading back to their city between Manchester and Liverpool. She loves the Liverpool Football team, he is a Manchester United die hard, we joked on how do they live together? Well they could beat on me since I was a supporter of Manchester City last year, and this year my loyalties are up for grabs.

At a smoke break in Reno-Nevada I caught up with another young man whom I had exchanged pleasantries with since he was carrying a musical instrument. Come to learn he graduated college and went to Europe travelled for a year and is heading home to California. The instrument he was carrying was a Viola he is learning to play since he wanted to have a portable instrument to travel with, and for sure he has some great stories about that instrument: playing for a group of drunk guys in Spain? Is one for the books.

Three nights on the train and on the last stretch of the journey to Palo-Alto, on Caltrain, I sat next to two University lecturers from Europe attending a conference at Standford University.  We were on the same train from Grand Junction-CO.  She lives in Paris, he lives in  Vienna, and they are lovebirds? We interchanged conversations from French to English about things to do in the Bay Area and which cities have great music, where to find live Jazz in San Francisco.

Resting my head to sleep after a warm welcome by my host in Palo Alto, I thought about many times have I traveled on the California Zephyr arguably the most scenic train route in these United States, always guaranteed a spectacular beauty of varied landscapes from East to West, meeting people, catching or witnessing a few stories along the way, of those I’ve met and many more fellow travellers whose final detraining station is the start of another journey, whose life’s stories, be it one of heartache, pain, joy, celebration, or otherwise have affected mine; covering the spectrum of human emotions, I cannot but help to imagine how these individual stories are all woven into the tapestry of the one story of humanity.

Happy Women's Day

As we celebrate International Women's Day, may we in our everyday lives continue to celebrate, cherish and value the contributions of women in making the world a better place. 

Ours is a world where there is no choice of an imagined future of security, prosperity and peace where women's talents, capacity and insights can be ignored. No remedy of our psychological headaches, emotional heartaches and mental agitations without due consideration, marked improvements or a complete overhaul of our general attitudes towards womankind. No durable appreciation of our comforts and achievements without  regard of the rights of women whose plight remain unheard, whose dreams are dashed, imprisoned by outdated cultural norms, or whose very existence is falsely considered a treat to human progress.

The realization supported by empirical evidence of great advancements society enjoys when women are given the chance to participate fully in the life of society gives us an opportunity to rethink our assumptions about the nature of humanity as whole, as well as provides an impetus for a wholehearted embrace toward creating an environment where their latent talents, capacities and virtue can be harnessed for the general good, resulting in the well-being of all. 

 On this auspicious day, as we pray for those in anguish, as we work to relieve the suffering of those in bondage, as we heal the wounds of those who've suffered abuse and violence of all kinds, as we open our hearts, minds and souls to let the light of love and compassion shine, let us do our very best in building a glorious future.
 May we adore the women in our lives, hold them dearly in our hearts, offer them a loving smile, comfort them, lend them a helping hand so that each and every one of them, our mothers, daughters, sisters and aunts may see themselves as the Angels they truly are.

Happy Women's Day