He Wasn’t Always Old

I have now listened to every Jeorge Ben album on Spotify three times or more and we need to move on.  I have had some engagement with Tom Ze before.  It must have been five years ago during a different time in Shanghai I can remember having his 1998 album: “Com Defeito de Fabricação” (Fabrication Defect) on at the gym and enjoying it.  Memories of the strange Funkadelic-like album artwork, memories of him, looking fairly old on stored in my mind I had a look at his discography on Wiki this morning. 

I hadn’t realize he wasn’t always old.  Imagine that.  He was, in his day one of the classic band of Bahian luminaries that started the Tropicalia movement and was on the remarkable Tropicália: ou Panis et Circencis, album which I’ve enjoyed for decades.  I look to see what he looked like before he assumed this grizzly middle-aged mien.  There he is on the cover of the album I’ve always known.  There he is standing in some Sao Paulo rooftop that looks like the one I was on, not long ago.  So I start with his first release from 1968, Grande Liquidação (The Large Settlement) and make my way through his remarkable career up until he disappears from sight and through till when he is rediscovered and recorded anew. 

My wife is in the other room preparing flowers for her clients as she always does on Friday.  The kitchen becomes a work room, smells lovely all of sudden, despite all the clippings in the sink and overflowing the garbage can.  I was just summoned up and from my desk to take a picture of my wife in her garden.  This can be dangerous.  My wife is without exception never satisfied with my photography.  I’ve been chastised so many times I usually just refuse and suggest someone else have the honors.  She only wants me to photograph her hands this time.  This seems a bit safer and sure enough I take the shots, watch her review and escape without so much as a sigh of complaint.

I’ve been catching up on writing all morning.  The morning has fled.  It’s two-eleven in the afternoon.  As I usually do, I’ve kept off from eating, besides the bike ride I did over to the local Starbucks to replenish our coffee supply.  I’ve been sipping black coffee the last seven hours or so.  It’s time for a tuna salad and a break of the intermittent fast.   But first go back over these and add the date and the titles.  Then you’re really done.

Saturday 6/1/19