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while i'm biding my time before leaping onto the night train, vintage ChuckBrown is pulsing it's conga'd goodness out of the old box. the only way to listen to GoGo is live style... even if it is just a recording. some music was solely intended for people to be involved in, surrounded by, pummeled with... to respond to, as they're called. many called, few chosen... ...don't remind the religious fanatics. once again, it's that peculiar transition time between worlds. just when i get comfortable with one routine, back we swing again to another. and they ask me why i get high. good times in the presence of the Diva, this week. strange, the attractions and repulsions we go through... and we've never really laid hands on each other. bonafide sexual tension... of which i feel aplenty. damn tight black turtleneck blouses, anyway. maybe it is a good thing i gotta vacate... back to the land of middle age depression. better on my karma, that way. |
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