A stair
master allows one to approximate some absurd funky movement should one choose
to, arms extended back and forth slowly.
Slow, purposeful steps that, at least when the pressure’s turned up,
take twice as long as they might otherwise. I’m in there early and nobody can see if I want to assume Redd Foxx with my movements.
I was smiling today as some old Johnny Guitar Watson came on, and all I
needed was a big hat and some shades.
Now I didn’t know who Johnny Guitar Watson was when I made a trip over
to England as a twenty year old in 1986.
It wasn’t exactly Patrick Leigh Fermor but it was all rather adventurous
to me at the time, my second time out of the country. I was touring around the British Isles and was in London for
the final week and read a “Time Out London” article telling me to stop off at
the local haberdasher and make my way properly dressed to catch JGW at some
venue in that wondrous city.
He strode out on stage, looking, as always, lanky, older than the funk
gear suggested. He blew kisses to
the audience and ran about saying “Thank you, thank you, thank you London. I need this. I really need this.”
Staring at his 瘦骨嶙峋[1] it began to dawn on you that the “Gangster of
Love” he had likely just been through some lean years. I didn’t know his oeuvre then like I
would, but the songs were immediately catchy and the audience loved him, in
spite of his pleas to please love him.
As his moniker suggested his anchoring claim to fame was his
playing. He played an electric in
a T-Bone Walker style with no pick and he worked the strings hard and you felt
sorry for them.
This morning “Dollar Bill” from the 1977 album “Funk in the Call of
Duty” came on. It’s a bit of a
rehash to my ears of the ironic gangster format he nailed so well with “Ain’t
That A Bitch” two albums back, the title track of which had the memorable period line that might not resonate today as it once did: "It's got me wonderin', which is which. Might as well go off China and dig a ditch. Ain't that a bitch." But
he has a measured, everyman way of narrating a story that seems to always want
to make you want to listen. And then there’s always the solo that’s worth
waiting for. Watching
up there on stage that summer he looked a bit fragile. But he would survive for another ten
years. He died on stage in
Yokohama in 1996, which seems both tragic, he was only 61, and entirely
appropriate, that he went out on stage, swinging, adoring ladies screaming for
him one more time, with that big grin flashing.
I don’t know if JGW ever made it the few extra hours across the Bo Hai
Sea. I rather doubt it. Defense Secretary Chuck Hagel will make
the flight this week, as will I, in opposite directions. The New York Times chose to depict the
latest spat between Japan and China that Chuck is trying to navigate as a seen
from the movie “Mean Girls.” Angry
nations infantilized as little girls.
“Aint’ That a Bitch?”
China will for the first time host the Western Pacific Naval Symposium, out in Qingdao which, from
what I can see, traditionally has a “come all ye” welcoming neutrality that,
surprise surprise, China has stepped on, by not inviting Japan. Rising to heights of diplomatic
eloquence, as senior American defense official was quoted, off record as
saying: “It is so totally high school,”
“We were, like, ‘Really? You’re going to do that?'” America then, has said that if Japan
can’t go, we won’t attend either, which Japan, greatly appreciated. Slowly and steadily, we are being drawn
into this nonsensical quarrel.
It’s enough to make you want to get out
of the region, which is what I felt like I did for a while yesterday. One of the one, truly wonderful things
about the particular section of the burbs I live in here in Beijing is “The
Orchard” restaurant near Hegezhuang.
It is laid out like a spacious farmhouse with a large walkway around a
pond, lined with apple trees in bloom.
Their Sunday brunch is famous, and the crowd, like our table, tends to
be mix of ethnicities and ages.
More than any swank, modern joint in town, that place always makes you
feel like you’ve left the country for a few hours. http://www.timeoutbeijing.com/venue/Food__Drink-Western/10214/The-Orchard.html
And then, as if JGW was standing over
your shoulder, shaking his head, you get the bill. “Listen.”
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