Senior Moments On A Rhyming Timepiece

           

            The evening of Wednesday, June 8^th was so chilly that I actually felt the need to wear my motorcycle jacket to ride my bicycle to the Steelworkers Hall for the Fat Albert’s open stage.

            When I arrived in the “coffee house”, Charles Winder and Dark Cloud were practicing in different parts of the room. On the open stage sign-in sheet I had a choice between numbers two and five. I would have preferred number three, but I figured that if people were not going to listen to me when I played I’d rather not wait till later for that non listening to take place because the Fat Albert’s audience tends to build momentum in its non-listening as the night rolls on.

            I mounted the speakers on the tripod and then practiced the song I was most nervous about being able to play. I set up the keyboard stand and put the piano on top of it. Then I put what I thought was a folding piano stool behind the keyboard.

            I chatted with Dark Cloud and asked him if he was from the United States, since so many of his songs are not only set there but are also patriotic about the States. He explained that he’d been born and raised in Canada but that his father was originally from the States.

            We talked about the open stages that are available in town. He wanted to know if there were any other weekly events like Fat Albert’s and the Tranzac open stage. He complained that it’s too hard to remember all of these “second Saturday of the month” or “last Tuesday of the month” events.

            When Tony Hanik arrived, I asked him if I’d mounted the speakers properly. He told me that they were too high and that the legs of the tripod were too far apart.

            Later I overheard Glen telling someone that the previous week, when Christine Gaidies had featured was the biggest turn out of the year for Fat Albert’s. He voiced the opinion that booking people that will bring in a crowd is the direction that Fat Albert’s should be going. That won’t be very good for Fat Albert’s regulars though who deserve a longer than two song showcase of their talent from time to time as a reward for their weekly support of the event. Also, when a popular performer is featured, it will always be a problem for the person that follows them if the feature’s entourage decides to get up and leave as soon as the one they came to see is done.

            The open stage started on time, with Charles Winder, as usual. He began to play even before Tony miked his guitar. He always plays Flamenco, but this piece was slower than usual. I think that his performances of these compositions would flow better if he’d learn to play them by heart, but I guess that might be difficult as these pieces are a lot more complicated than songs like mine in which the chord changes are fairly repetitious.

            I went to use the washroom while Charles was playing, and when I came back Mary Milne observed that I’d been sleeping on the left side of my hair. She was right.

            Charles’s second offering would have fit well into the soundtrack of a spaghetti western, but it was a very long piece. His entire set lasted fourteen minutes.

            I was next. I started with “Cha-Cha of the Wolf”, which is my translation of Serge Gainsbourg’s “Cha Cha Cha Du Loup”- “ … There was an ingénue who took a walk in the woods, she was much like you, she wore a red riding hood, but then suddenly, between the trees there came out and bowed a big bad wolf that began to howl, the cha cha of the wolf …”

            I followed that with my own song, “The Next State of Grace” – “Well I’m sitting here cooking in the stew of the street, I’m the part that won’t ever get stirred, and as I am boiling I drink my own broth then bend noodles to the shape of these words …”

            It went over well. People always seem to like that old one of mine, which would be depressing if I bothered to think about it.

            After me was Dawn. She doesn’t talk to the audience to introduce the songs she sings. She just starts to play right away, so it’s hard to tell whether they are originals or composed by someone else. In this case she was singing what sounded like a collection of non-rhyming quotes from “A Streetcar Named Desire” by Tennesseee Williams – “ … I’m not young and vulnerable anymore … I have the misfortune to instil a reverence for Shelly and Keats … but there are things between a woman and a man … What you are talking about is brutal desire, the name of that streetcar … You can’t suppose that any part of a gentleman is in his nature … When I was a very young girl I made the discovery of love … An hour isn’t just an hour … who knows what to do with it … An ocean as blue as my first lover’s eyes … that man is my executioner …”

            From her second song – “ … The world I have known is no more than a place … only to be lost again … having crossed so many boundaries … I could no longer find my way back home …”

            Then it was Dark Cloud’s turn. He said that he would be dedicating both of his songs to Marianne, I assume because it was her birthday.

            He started with his song about Martin Luther King – “Well I woke up that morning and what did I see, tears of a nation wiping out my sweet dreams … Do you remember me, I had a dream, do you remember me fighting self esteem … Some folks just don’t like to shine … I’m goin down to see the swingin man and his unfinished frown … Do you remember the shots and the screams.

            Dark Cloud’s next composition was, he said, one of three or four cocaine songs that he’d written. He told us that it is said that a songwriter needs to have written at least a song each on the subjects of cocaine and mother or else he or she isn’t a songwriter.

            From the song – “ … So sad, Johnny’s packin heat today. He aint nice and he don’t play … Never had these problems back in Maine … You better have money if you like cocaine … If you love cocaine, don’t forget to pay …” When he was done, someone called out, “What if you just want to be friends?”

            Next was Kirk Felix, with his frequent percussionist, Darlene Saxon and her cajón, for which she brought brushes this time.

            Kirk introduced his first original song by telling us that he lives across the street from a French Canadian school, and that every morning he can hear the children sing “O Canada” in French.

            His song was called “Great Canadian Day” – “I woke up this morning with O Canada in the air … it’s a splendid Canadian morning, shout it out into the world … Heading out into the city, oh how it’s changing, there’s so much more to see … More traffic and congestion … It’s better to be rambling than sitting in some city park … It’s great to be Canadian …”

            Kirk told us that every one of his songs start with a poem.

            He said that this would be his last night at Fat Albert’s for a few months because he was going to go on a trip back to where he was raised, which I think he said is Maryland.

            His second song was entitled “Going Home” and even though it was his own, he read the lyrics from a music stand. Darlene played the tambourine for this one – “We’ve been gone too many years now … we’re going home where the bluebirds sing … Stayed with old friends from Burlington … Back to the valley where the pine trees sway … I’m going home where I was born … home to stay.”

            It was then time for our feature performer, which for a rare treat was not a musician this time, but rather a poet. That poet was one I’ve known for years, both for her solo work and for her performances with the poetic trio known as “Uncritical Mass”.

            Linda decided to sit on the edge of the stage with her feet on the floor, because she didn’t want to have to climb up onto the stage.

            She began by confessing that she’d entirely forgotten that she had been booked to read at Fat Albert’s until just a few hours before that. It was only after someone had said to her, “I’ll see you tonight!” and after she’d responded by asking, “Why? What’s happening tonight?” that she’d found out that she was scheduled to be there.

            She read a first poem with the title “Candidate” – “Ink stains and roach bowls …”

            When this short poem was finished, Mary approached her and told her that she would have to sit on the stage to read, because no one could see her. So she did so.

            Linda’s next poem was “Time Out” – “We were always one … there never was anyone else … hid ourselves in mysteries … one was bad and one was good … behind the mask, beneath the paint …”

            From “Gospel Truth” – “Adam and Eve, we are led to believe … the serpent was allowed to remain in the garden.”

            From “They’re Playing our Song”  - “The mind is timeless, the heart is young, so hold me honey and let’s waltz.”

            From “Lost Fortune” – “I notice today that licorice pipes and penny candy have gone to the dinosaurs … a red cent is rarer than a blue moon … The penny has dropped out of sight … Women called Penelope will now be called Nickel or Nothing.”

            Linda then read a few short pieces with no titles:

            “I’ve spruced myself up and added some bling … looking as good as an octogenarian can.”

            “When marital sex becomes an obligation … Marry for love, not just cause you’re horny.”

            “Even the gods are impermanent.”

            “We actors are caught up in the play … Cast the star of yourself … rest between roles.”

            It looked to me like Linda was having a problem reading her poetry. I called out to ask if she needed more light. She replied, “That would be nice!” I asked if the lights could be turned up. At first Glen answered, “Not really!” but finally he turned on the fluorescents. It wasn’t as atmospheric for us, but at least Linda could read.

            From “Except Ye Become” – “I went to the circus and became a child … I am still a child tonight.”

            From “Book Report” – “I read a book years ago … the only remaining solution was spiritual … I hope and pray that the author was a prophet.”

            From “Chatter” – “If there must be words, let them be words of peace. Lacking that, let there be silence.”

            From “Denial, or I’ve Got to Stop Reading the News” – “I am not moved to despair as children starve and as men are tortured and women are sold into slavery … I am told that I scream in my sleep.”

            From “A Calling” – “Make of your life an art … Every sound a vibration of ecstasy, every touch a caress of the beloved … We are all creators.”

            From “A Contemplation” – “Let go of ignorance … You are one with infinite love …”

            From “A Fine Mess of Potage” – “Hanging out with the raving poets … we have abandoned sanity … our dedication to truth … redefining sanity.”

            Linda’s next poem, “Epiphany”, tells of her impressions after a bird pooped on her head – “Last week as I passed under the branches of a budding maple … I stood, blotting my pate with a Kleenex … This synchronicity of step and sphincter … Am I a lucky shit-head or simply an avian latrine … Is all the shit in my life a forerunner of wisdom … I have concluded that this was a spiritual wake-up call.”

            From “Abandonment” – “I was not done with you … By the code that forms my flesh … Sometimes I see your specter on the street … I cannot follow you or bring you back … Do not begrudge me your release …”

            From “Funny” – “Things are funny again … comical … droll … ha ha … I have gone from a grin or a grunt to a guffaw … side-splitting is no longer anathema … We are once again amused … Isn’t that funny?”

            From “Humanity As A Write-off” – “Who will come next, I wonder … compose symphonies … write poetry … almost come to consciousness and destroy itself.”

            From “Marijuana March 2009” – “There’s a desert of youth … costumed and coiffed … but the vibe’s not here … These kids don’t know shit!”

            From “I’m Liking It” – “I like my skin, not too tight for living in … I like the way my fingers flex … I like the way my toes are splayed … I rather like the way I smell … I like the living of my life and I shall like the leaving.”

            From “Dance” – “Isn’t it strange … It is what it is and it’s all gonna change … Rejoice in what is … dance with impermanence … for the sake of the dance.”

            From “Self Centred” – “Through my eyes, my ears, my fingertips … drunk with fragrance … I am the conduit for pain and bliss … I am a sentient cell …”

            From “Fragility” – “ … Who can I tell about you … Friends don’t come easily to me … You never did the usual thing … I could never tell about you … Sometimes even love is no reason to stay …”

            From “Aphemia, Aphasia or Just An Eighty Year Old Brain?” – “ … Pocket gremlins … From time to time they come back at inopportune moments … and show up too tardily.”

            There was very loud applause after Linda was done.

            Linda Stitt’s writing often has more the feel of well-written aphorisms than poetry. She doesn’t tend to try to find new ways of arranging words or phrases to communicate, but rather uses clever observations to arrive at what are often charming and witty gems.

            After Linda, the open stage continued. Mary announced that from that point on it would be one song each, and first up was Bob Allen.

            Bob was accompanied by Tom on violin, Glen on piano and Darlene on cajón. The song was Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues”. Glen got two solos but Tom none. I wondered if Bob just forgot that Glen had already had a turn.

            Next was Andrea Hatala, who played a very melodic intro to her song, “The Bridge” – “You are out on the sea, sailing, and I stand on the shore, calling to you … Take a look inside me … We can build a bridge out of love …” Tom played along whenever Andrea returned to the hook of the song, from off stage, over by the sound board. “ … Walls hide us from unknowns, tie us to our own …”

            After Andrea was her boyfriend, Heinz Klein, though he put himself on the list as Mr. Bittersweet. Tom joined Heinz on stage. Heinz didn’t tell us the title of his song – “Sun goes up … Everything is not too bad … Everything is half as bad … Don’t hide between walls … You have to step outside … Even if you’re feeling down … it’s not that the world could break apart …”

            Heinz sure does seem to enjoy himself onstage.

            Then it was Bridget’s turn, and she of course also wanted Tom to accompany her.

            Glen turned the fluorescents back off and said, “A little ambiance!” to which Tom responded, “Call an ambiance!”

            Bridget’s song was called “Rise Up” – “Can you see the lightning flashing, can you hear the walls come crashing down … Can you see the darkness fading, can you feel the light invading your soul …”

            Following Bridget was Elizabeth Block and as she began to introduce her song, Kirk Felix came up to my side, slightly behind me, and kneeling down so as to not obstruct the view of those behind him, and whispered an inquiry. He wanted to know if I would be posting what I was writing online. I told him I would, so he gave me his card and asked if I would send him a link.

            Elizabeth’s song was “The Bedstead Men” by Flanders and Swann – “When you’re walking in the country far from villages and towns, when you’re seven miles from nowhere and beyond … you may come across a lonely pool or pond and you’ll always find a big, brass, broken bedstead by the bank … Don’t think it’s there by accident, it’s us you have to thank, the Society of British Bedstead Men … Every eel and fish and millpond has a beauty all can share, but not unless it’s got a big brass broken bedstead there … We drag them cross the meadows when the moon is in the sky … The precious load of bedsteads must get through …”

            Next was Marianne Peck, Glen on guitar this time because the song was “Your Cheating Heart” by Hank Williams. Tom stood off stage and to the side to play along and I could hear Honey Novick singing behind me.

            After Marianne, the St Germains took to the stage to play and sing Bob Dylan’s “Make You Feel My Love” – “When the rain is blowing in your face and the whole wide world is on your case, I could offer you a warm embrace to make you feel my love … The storms are raging on the rolling sea and on the highway of regret, the winds of change are blowing wild and free, you aint seen nothing like me yet …”

            Then came Tony Hanik, with help from Tom. As usual, Tony didn’t tell us whether he wrote the song that he sang or not. Maybe those that have been coming to Fat Albert’s for years already know. Honey Novick was singing along on the chorus from behind me, so I assumed it was a cover, but the lyrics that I wrote down didn’t snag any songs posted on the Internet – “ … pictures of someone I used to know … She reminds me of a crane, an exotic water bird or maybe a giraffe …”

            Following Tony was John Stroud, who began with a joke. He said that his minister told him that he should start considering the hereafter. He responded that he’s been doing that a lot lately. Every time he goes to the basement he wonders, “What am I here after?”

            This was meant to be a segue into what he said was the “Senior Moment Song” by Tom Rush. What he sang was an internet hit for Tom Rush but it was actually by Steven Walters and called “The Remember Song” – “I’m looking for my wallet and car keys, well they can’t have gone too far, just as soon as I find my glasses I’m sure I’ll see just where they are. Supposed to meet someone for lunch today, but I can’t remember where or who it is that I’m meeting. It’s in my organizer somewhere … The last time that I remember driving was to that memory enhancement seminar. What’s that far off distant ringing and that strangely familiar tone? Must be the person I am meeting calling me on my brand new cordless phone … ‘John, this is Gwendolyn, and I’m trying not to cry, but I’ve been waiting here for over an hour. I thought you loved me, this is goodbye!’ Well, the voice sounds familiar, and the name it rings a bell … Let’s see now, where was I … oh well.”

            Next on the list was Darlene Saxon, but she didn’t seem to be there. I didn’t say anything because they immediately moved on to Glen Gary, but I think that Kirk Felix left shortly after giving me his card and I suspect that he was Darlene’s ride.

            Glen sang and played what seems of late to be his favourite song, which is John Lurie’s “Mystery Train” – “Train I ride, sixteen coaches long … that long black train done took my baby and gone …” Glen was accompanied by Fat Albert’s pet violinist, Tom Hamilton.

            After Glen was Peter James, who improvised a very short piece on the piano, with accompaniment from Tom. When he was finished asked, “That’s your song? It sounded like a sweet musical interlude!”

            Then Mary Milne stood at the front to say, “An now, for the un-grand finale!” To which Elizabeth Knowlton called out in protest, “Hey!” I think that Mary had made a copy of the list to keep with her, but that the original list had grown since then, so though Mary had thought that the night was over, it wasn’t.

            Mary read a poem by Peter Viereck, called “Which of Us Two” – “When both are strong with tenderness … both to such see-saw mutuality of hard pressed opposites as smelts a tree … in marriage as a very skeleton: - When, then, soil peels mere flesh off half this love and locks it from the un-stripped half above… or merely midnight in an unshared room … Knowing only you have somehow left my side, I lie here wondering which of us has died.”

            Elizabeth Knowlton followed Mary, with help from Tom. Glen, who was sitting in the front to record her with his phone, urged her not to either plug or mic her guitar because it’s already a loud instrument. So she just used the microphone for her voice – “If you could see the beauty of this world … you would be strong, you’d know your way through right or wrong … I know you would forgive … Your suffering would end … Everyone would be your friend …”

            The second to last performer was Audrey, who sang Bob Dylan’s “Forever Young” – “ … May you always do for others and let others do for you … May you stay forever young … May you have a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift … May your song always be sung …”

            Finally, we had Igor, who started a poem he has recited at Fat Albert’s before, and of which I don’t know whether it is one of his compositions or not  – “You fill my every waking hour, I know that you’ll devour me in the end … Time, got enough to fill, though we know we never will …” Then Igor hesitated. Glen called out “Take your time!” But he gave up, and that was the end of the night.