Archive for June, 2012


Once upon a time a chick,
That first one who dumped me;
Suddenly without telling me
Her thoughts or reasons;
I must have been about sixteen years old.
A harbinger of painful relationships to come.
Shit!!
A scenario I now know,
Preparing me.
For my life of dating females;
That is just “what they DO”!
Especially these glamor queens
I tend to become attracted to –
I like to awaken with someone,
Vaguely similar to the star
I went to sleep with.
Aww, Fuck!!

Once, without remorse,
A babe said through the courts
I was the sperm donor daddy of her baby.
Our fleeting affair was just two weeks!
They wanted to shackle my financial rest of life.
Ridiculous!!!
Scheming Hussy!

I’ve always been a late bloomer to the dance;
Playing it off “cool” in the face of strife.
Their part-time Casanova fantasy I guess,
It is only now that I truly comprehend romance.
I think.
Yet it still hurts and often now,
The USA does it government “legally”.
I wonder if I called her,
That ex of the exes,
Could it still work?
What??? Slap me,
I must be crazy!

Why can’t I get it without remorse?
They are just wired differently;
Not the infatuation or her this or that being enamored,
I always think the next one will be different,
In the way the hormones affect her.
Unique mentalities always make the lady feel good.
I acquiesce to her desires;
They spit upon me and fart unabashedly.
Otherwise she has the real fire hose,
For extinguishing “our” love’s desires.
Dumbass(me)!!

Reading an old acquaintance’s appeal from decades back,
Stumbled upon it rummaging and tossing stuff;
I feel like I could have an old man heart attack!
She asked me to be ‘big hearted’;
Amusingly tried to use a ‘ten-dollar word’,
One that I’d used on her.
I could not extend that forgiveness then;
Now I know to let it go.
Back then I was hurt and angry;
Less mature a late bloomer.
Don’t misconstrue – I do NOT forget!
Her appeal chance a snowball in hell.
Now fifteen years hence in my sage,
I notice a newly better-minded me.
Perhaps rid of those financial consequentialies,
Provides a different reaction;
Could have improved my current situation?
We will never know.
“Arrrgh!!”

Would have maybe given “three” a chance.
Instead of “ruining” three including me,
As I said to keep myself perceptively “free”.
Yet Monday A.M. QB,
I never aspired to be;
Too many random variables like hypocrisy.
I now tearfully purge the insensitivity.
Racking my brain,
Writhing in physical pain;
The bodily throws of an Edgar Allen Poe story!
Nobody knows except the Heavenly Father and my actions!
Can I get one back in my life again?
Can I not die alone?
Will I have her to rub my back late at night?
Then to cuddle and sleep tight.
Would love to playfully wrestle like Naphtali’s name means,
With regularity and without having to fight.
Or just Kill me NOW, God!!

Compelled, I can move on-principle!
Seemingly thousands of women memories flood my brain;
Situations pass at racecar pace.
Which one was right?
Fifty-nine prognostications quickly out of sight.
Many were wrong.
Some just thrilled to show me their thongs.
No way is this probably the final analysis,
But in six months sixty,
I’ll earnestly apply lessons from this present,
Or live lonely forward until my death;
A similar scenario to dialysis.
(Heavenly Father says, “this one, your ‘Ukrainian’…is different”!!!)

Oh, that letter ended up here:

Various Artists – Bargrooves: Members Only (US Limited Edition)

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I reached-back for y’all to let you know that I wrote music reviews from 2004 – 2011 for About.com/dancemusic, etc.  I found this one, “about” a special U.S. edition and ninth in the series that was out and about with tracks to set you smack dab into the party groove from their first beats and rhythms!  I still love it and I just found the double CD again while  boxing for the “Exodus”.

Here we have a snazzy, attractively packaged double-disc dance CD set “Bargrooves – Members Only” US Limited Edition [Gossip Records GOS-CD-609]. It is a assemblage massed across the great pond by the UK’s Ben Sowton and the Native New Yorkers. You might want to have a little fun by allowing your musical mind’s eye to view it as a kind of “competition”!

Flavaful cover art work and advertising that your “whateva” is a “limited edition” is like putting an “Esq.” or “Ltd” behind your name, intensifying the curiosity and in this case you are well within your mounting intensity to scope this work and include it in your desideratum.

Bargrooves are smooth and at times, almost jazzy dance cuts that play in continuous mode garnering the feel that you have a DJ on your home site, or if your are in the early pre-party preparation stages of your club, you can run these CDs before your DJ arrives and hopefully get your staff in a less mundane mood. The first time I pressed play to peruse these, I imagined myself early after-work at a trendy Bar “X” in Soho; getting libationally loose and this music as the slightly-above-subliminal soundtrack. It was a guaranteed party feel, and I couldn’t wait for the place to start filling-up with potential dance partners!

Label creator and late-night DJ bar entrepreneur Ben Sowton’s disc one is mid-deep House from the outset; surprisingly un-UK-ish, and includes more instrumentals; one of which is the slightly Gare-age-ish “Les Couleurs” by Sebastian Davidson. He weaves in some Soularis seamlessly with “Closer”. That is followed by a sure-shot “get the party started” version of the staple “It’s All Good To Me (Matty’s Soulflower mix)” from someone called Physics. Rippaa!! Next on the marquee is one of our favorite contemporary dance vocalists, lady Tiger Lily with Mike Polo on a version of Nate`’s “Free” that doesn’t compromise and only enhances the message of that classic. A little further into it, it really gets polished on the tantalizing “Time In Motion” by Jay Lumen/Superflava with vocals by Sophia Cairo. The slightly more stylish Disc two is New York City-style in pace, vocals and flow. From the first note on disc two, Central Avenue’s “Tell Me” brightens your mood even though the subject matter here is the breaking-up of a love affair.

On both discs track seven is the lucky number; whether it is Ross Couch’s “Got To Be Right”, or Hott 22’ featuring Angie Zee on “Just Friends”. The latter building the intensity for the rest of the jams to follow on that disc. As I used to say while tooling around Manhattan to a Frankie Crocker/Jonathan Docker mix on WBLS about twenty years ago, “It’s got that wheeze, baby!” I even used it to get my Pajama Bar party started on the air this past Leap Day, so you know it is good!

My favorite of the entire set is “Life Is Like” (number nine) by Richard Gow with Cathy Campani delivering the sultry vocals in a foreign tongue. I had to look to make sure that I they had named the song correctly because I expected to read a non-English song title the companion track on Ben’s disc which reads “Mariposa” – one of Ben’s movin’ instrumentals, by the way. But no, her sultry, lissome foreign language stylings are more than copacetic with me no matter the title.

Actually, there are no bad cuts herein! Both albums can be felt as “lounge” grooves as well, and if that label will help you to go check them and buy, then by all means, have at it! Other categories include “soulful house”, “dance-pop” and “tech with an edge”, they tell me. Hopefully U.S. radio will get hip to this one quickly as apparently most of Asia including my Russian girls, and the southern Pacific islands including Australia are already on it. I can glean no reason to deduct points here. So hear the “grooves” yourself as I set the bar at five “you-won’t-be-sorry” stars. And on that “competition – it’s a stalemate, from your ears to your dancing feet, we all win!!

Listen and comment back at me, ok?

Pickhitt: The group Soularis (playing above) is from Russia, by the way. I interviewed and reviewed them separately also circa 2005.

Saturday night produced two negative surprises and a Sunday scare within a mellow night by- myself, as I had just come back to town from the big city to box-up some more of my belongings. I was cooking another personal gourmet meal while sipping on some sauvignon blanc; an almost homeless pseudo-friend called and asked if he could once-again crash on my futon. My better judgment told me this third in-a-row of my hospitality was a bad idea, but my innate niceness overrode and I acquiesced.
When he arrived several hours later, he was in just an athletic undershirt and already half “in the bag” with what I later spied as a vodka bottle. It wasn’t ten minutes before he was helping himself to stuff in the refrigerator, leaving the freezer door wide-open and when I commented about it in passing, his diminutive self became belligerent to the point that he got in my face as if he wanted to actually fight me.
“Go ahead, touch me!” He said “I’m tired of your condescending comments!” At first it amused me, but seeing his face redden, him step into my path as I tried to walk by him out of the kitchen and not backing up, I quickly know this could escalate, and so I invited him to leave while picking up the phone to dial 911 (which I knew would cause him to split quickly). Thankfully he did and I called the cops off.
With order restored, but a bit ruffled, I ate a sumptuous cod fish with bread crumbs, garlic, butter and parsley saute`, and with the hour approaching midnight, decided to check some emails. The first I opened further spoiled the night, when it was from a newly met manager at the Nashville Hard Rock Café, informing me to my shock, that he was “rescinding” the Vibe Host job offer that he had dangled in front of me for the past three weeks. This news came only seventy-two hours before my mandatory “orientation” day, which I was anticipating with growing excitement because it presented a new horizon with a global entertainment company. “Another ‘renegeger’ in Hootyville”, I thought to myself after I shot back a couple of “WTF??” emails. The dude accused me of being “difficult to communicate with…” What? I’m all over social media, have a website and three telephone numbers, “Hello? Mister ‘please leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I can’!”

Soon it was time, after a nightcap, to end this confused evening with sleep. I always wear a gold neck chain with a golden cheetah medallion pendant that Inna, the woman I often refer to as my “fiancée” (Inna) blessed me with almost two years ago all the way from Ukraine. It is my favorite jewelry, by far and has deep symbolic and significant meaning to me. Sometimes I take it off at “lights out”; sometimes I don’t. By late morning when my mind came back to bother me, I wasn’t sure if I had or hadn’t.
If you live alone, I don’t have to remind you how you can hide things from yourself periodically. My reading glasses are the number one vanisher, melting into the scenery regularly. If you have a routine of favorite places and then you break the pattern of placement, you can become totally lost and disoriented. That is what happened on this Sunday after the weird Saturday night.

I felt naked around my neck; my golden chain gone. I thought I remembered putting it in my little ceramic whatnot cup – nope. I checked all the usual places: my pine jewelry box, an old cigar box, an old metal desktop filing box, a small plastic box previously the home for floppy discs…nothing. In the bathroom on the toilet tank many times; the kitchen, my DJ room (now tossed because of the moving); even the kitchen garbage can! Increasingly agitated and feeling my blood pressure rising, I thought that maybe it fell off outside in the grass while I went out to see if my asshole friend was lurking after I ran him off. Maybe the clasp had become undone and it slipped from around my neck! Naw, my cheetah pendant from Nina has weight! I would have noticed the slippage (I would HOPE!) – no that would be an impossible scenario to find it. I pulled my mattress and box springs, now on the floor since I sold my headboard and bed frame for the move, away from the wall to no avail.
“OMG!” I said to myself, “I can’t lose Cheetah! Inna gave it to me; she’ll kill me for sure if when I meet her again I don’t have it!” If I hadn’t just sold my car, I’d have turned it upside-down rummaging under the seats and in the center console. At least I didn’t have to look there, but even that thought did not comfort or quell my increasing panic, now deep into the late Sunday afternoon. One of my old college buddies called long-distance to check on me. He could tell I was melancholy even though I am always glad to talk to him, as I told him my recent weekend woes. Even as we talked, I re-scanned my bedroom and night table area hoping “golden cheetah” would materialize magically while damning myself for being careless.
After we hung-up our catch-up call, I took a carry-on travel bag that I’ve kept semi-packed for my trip to Inna in Ukraine for about two years now, and put it on the floor at my feet as I sank dejectedly into my bedside easy chair. I thought, “May as well empty this thing out totally, just in-case I’d overlooked something earlier…” As I dumped some folded clothes, underwear and some of the bubble-bag envelopes that Inna sent me gifts in (yes I am very sentimental), my eyes suddenly spied something shiny and gold! Yes, there it was! I was so excited as I quickly kissed it and put it back around my neck, I called my college chum right back to briefly tell him I’d found it and my mood was markedly improved!

It figured that the night before, as I dejectedly crashed-out to bed, that I had taken Cheetah chain off and logically placed it among the used treasure-bestowing envelopes of my beloved who sent it to me in my black travel bag. I hope you guys understand that for me to lose my cheetah is akin to the regular man losing his “mojo”!

Backstory: When I was at the University, my roomate made this verse, originally recorded by the Chicago soul music group,”The Chi-Lites”, famous with his stand-up (serious) rendition during our Oral Interpretation English class. Now, thirty-eight years later, as I sat on my front stoop trying to make sense of my finding a lovely, exotic, intelligent, lively, playful Slavic girl who loved me, I have rewritten it to fit a modern international romance situation.

“One year ago,
I was happy as a lark;
Two years ago this time,
Ignited our romantic spark.
I have the seat at our same ole Cafe` Skype,
Watching other internet couples play.
We were together,
Fighting to get my first U.S. Passport in those days;
Anticipating our togetherness.

Now I’m lucky if I hear from her,
Maybe twice a month!
Never wanting to disappoint her,
One so uniquely generous to me
That she got me out of tax trouble,
Which should have never been;

Now, fear of losing “the one” is all I see.
I might not look it to you,
yet, I am a sad face clown.
Sleeping less as my brain laments;
Tossing and turning,
An exercise that prevents rest!

“OH, I hear her voice everywhere I go,
In the words I read from people I don’t even know,
Have You Seen Her?
Tell Me have you gleaned Nina?
When I read a man’s magazine,
Or when old emails from her I see,
Have you seen her?
Baby, have you gleaned Nina? (“Pssst! look in Rome, Italy!!”)

Ohh, I’ve been used to satisfying my words with actions,
And suddenly I can’t…
It takes too long,
They seem like just promises or a rant.
[monologue]
“As I write these words,
I choke-back tears in my eyes.
I repaid her magnamimousity handsomely!
It seems that “the devil” holds me back,
Prayers and faith unanswered apparently;
But I will try anything at this point to get to her.”

Oh, I write an email to her,
Send flowers and a few dollars when I can;
I can see the love and smile when I do,
It is all over her heartfelt “Thank you”
Can you glean her?
Tell Me, Have you Seen Nina?

Well…I’m looking for a letter, email or something
Or anything she would send.
“I am here for you!”
Even though a civil war is near.
She sent me so many gifts one and four years ago,
Just because (I think) she grew to love me;
I never asked for anything like that,
I feel so blessed to have met her.
With all the people I know,
I’m still
a lonely middle-aged man!

I found a way to repay her kindness.
In money and attention,
But will she bore with this long distance and disallow me?
I really fear it is so.
May my wishes, hopes and prayers be answered,
Where our cultures combination will provide
Interesting fun for the rest of our lives!

People tell me, “If it is meant to be she will be there “.
I am not sure that is the security of thought that I need!

This love is not ‘unrequited,
As most of my encounters of the past;
We were very social media united,
Across the Atlantic ocean distance.

So If you see her,
Please tell her to get in-touch with me!!
My passport is still ready to be stamped again;
I am looking for some help,
Or any change that change can send.
You know, its funny,
I thought I had that lady in London;
In “the palm of my hand”!
But I didn’t do my homework beforehand,
And then had to help my eighty-nine year-old Mum,
Back at home.
And hers is ill also.
Have you seen Nina?
Tell me have u SEEN HER?

>
It Might be that it is the last of May 2012 we can prognosticate “in these-here parts”!
Never-mind not watching television for the past two-plus years.
I ask my neighbor what the weather is to be?
I forget judiciously,
To dial it up on the PC.
He says, “About a hundred percent chance of rain!”
Then I drive to gas-up my “for sale” to-get-to-Nina (reason), car!

Tonight’s feature is a reality show and main event is the group thunder, , lightning and rain moving in seemingly from all directions.
I let my mind and right hand sync, flying freely to write this account, Of the precipitous action,
As occasional lightning illuminates my writing pad.
Thinking of Nina’s “flat” as I wrote the word “pad”, lol, I briefly remember accurately another of our many Skype “dates”.
I know, you ask, “have you ever really MET her?” To that I say “Yes.”
Now back to the air, moving with distant thunder rumbles which do not threaten me.
Heck, I always was one to like to sit outside in the face of a storm moving in!
It is similar to daily living as an adult!
Wind gusts sway the tall trees to and fro; widely and like a windshield wiper.
Similar trees close to my front stoop,
Protect me as my canopy.

Only a sideways wind occasionally makes the raindrop kiss my flesh as I wish Nina would forevermore, truth be known.
I’ll tell anyone the truth!
Blow, wind blow!
Take away my pollen-induced shortness of breath Asthma wheeze. It is why I welcome you!
Wondering how a Ukrainian thunder storm would go;
Hand-in-hand with her holding me close.
Lost car ambles down my dead-end street;
Gustafo makes sway after it.
“Lost In Space”, I always call these vehicles who come this way.
Sometime I say, “Damn, Life!” because I am not where and with who I want and need it not to be this way.
“Work WITH me for a change!”
I survive the initial onsloaught of heavy rain on a Thursday night;
Still not wet under my natural umbrella.
Why can’t I just go at-will where I want to be?
Then just as I look up on a clear night and the moon and distant planets remind me;
Mother Nature has final say as distant, hated plaintive freight trains announce their approval again.

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