tag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:/blogs/the-lives-of-the-headwhiz-consort?p=2The Lives of The Headwhiz Consort2020-01-27T04:24:19-12:00Mind Fry Enterprisesfalsetag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/61224212020-01-17T03:15:15-12:002020-01-27T04:24:19-12:00Raul Espinoza's Biography<p>Born in the slums of Rio de Janeiro Raul never learned an instrument. His family was too poor to be able to afford what would have been an extreme luxury. Still Raul loved music and took it in whenever he could. A job as an errand boy when he was 8 allowed him to get a Walkman CD player to listen to music. He relied heavily on the libraries as his source of music although shop lifting also came in useful. He also used the libraries as a source of obtaining musical scores. He was particularly drawn to classical and orchestral music, although he also has a passion for jazz and various folk music from around the world, he found if he listened to a piece of music whether it was Stravinsky, Tchaikovsky, Copeland or one of a slew of composers he loved, that he could follow along with the music while looking at the score. “I thought this was normal, it just made sense to me, I could hear the sounds and see on the page in front of me the notes and they were one in the same to me.” </p>
<p>Of course this led him to his highly unorthodox self taught way of conducting. He was able to get experience with small community and independent orchestra’s and but he always ran into a wall with any ‘serious’ orchestra. He had no credentials and could not even get an audition or even a meeting with anyone from a “serious” orchestra. In early 2014 he was in Cleveland and came across a small bar called The Barking Spider. Playing that night was John McGrail and Raul sat in the back sipping red wine and listening. He found he liked this man’s ‘folk’ music, plus the fact that he gave out this wild trophy to the Person of The Year, though he wasn’t sure what that entailed. It seemed like they were all having a good time. When the set ended he introduced himself and purchased a CD. When John was done packing up his gear he sat and got a Guinness and asked Raul to join him and they continued their conversation. Raul mentioned that he was a conductor though he was presently without work and just paying the bills as a valet at one of the hotels downtown. He explained his very unorthodox approach and how he had taught himself how to conduct. John was impressed although as a ‘folky’ he didn’t really need Raul skills. Still they exchanged contact info and Raul didn’t think anything more of it. </p>
<p>Then in 2016 Raul received a phone call from Lisa Sue Dannon requesting a meeting between him and J. Kinslow McGrail, the president of Mind Fry Enterprises. He recalled Mind Fry from the CD he had bought from John and the crazy trophy they’d given out that night. He wasn’t sure what it was about but it certainly didn’t seem like anything bad so he told Linda Sue he would be delighted and that was the beginning of the Mind Fry Orchestra. </p>
<p>You see J. Kinslow had been thinking of putting this together for use by Babakar Wade and the Headwhiz Consort. He knew that in addition to his experimental world jazz Babakar also wrote a fair amount of music that would incorporate the elements of an orchestra. Being a small organization with a whacked out name The Cleveland Orchestra laughed at him when he approached them with the idea of working with the Consort. While offended he resisted the urge to burn down Severance Hall and set about forming his own orchestra. “Fuck them” he told John and Lisa Sue. “I didn’t want them anyway.... uppity bastards.” It was then that John suggested he talk to Raul, "this guy I met at one of my Spider gigs. He’s a self taught conductor. Perhaps he can help you.” and he gave Linda Sue his contact info he had saved since that night at The Spider. Well that was the beginning of a wonderful relationship between Mind Fry and Raul Espinoza. With the release of SAD we at Mind Fry would like to introduce the Mind Fry Orchestra under the adequate* baton of Raul Espinoza.</p>
<p>Cleveland July 31, 2017 </p>
<p>* Raul insists on the use of the term “adequate” to describe his skills as he does not wish to diminish his ‘professional’ colleagues who have been formally trained!</p>Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580502019-04-14T12:00:00-12:002019-04-14T19:25:26-12:00What To Do When You Have Tendinitis
<p>Barney was feeling a little bit lost. He had been diagnosed with tendinitis in his right shoulder. He was told not to play guitar, or at least play as little as possible. He wasn’t sure what to do with the time that he had normally put into his music and guitar. He had his jazz band The Swingin’ Shards, they had 2 more gigs to play and then a planned layoff had come along. His bass player, Splendido, had to go to Europe for reasons he could not divulge to Barney. Barney knew Splendido would not make up something and lie to him. They were friends. They respected each other both as persons and musicians. So after the show Saturday Barney would be able to lay off the guitar from a professional standpoint but not playing just wasn’t in his fiber. Even now he tried only to play when he was rehearsing with the Shards. He hoped by June he would be better. It was the middle of April now. In June he was heading to Cleveland to work on the next Headwhiz consort CD. Babakar would be in the country for an extended period and as many of the Consort who could make were going to try and get their also. He wanted to be there and to be in shape to play. He didn’t want to let Babakar down. Plus Vladimir had confirmed as had Jean-luc. They were always fun to hit the town with afterwards. Vlad usually led the way while Barney and Jean-luc would follow along. Vladimir had lived in Cleveland once and knew the inns and pubs and bars the best. Even though John McGrail, a songwriter who worked with the Consort, lived there he didn’t go out much. Vlad clearly had superior knowledge of the cities drinking holes. </p>
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<p> So Barney had the day to himself. “A bike ride sounds good” he thought or maybe a walk. So Barney go his bike out and waked it down the steps of his apartment. He lived on the 3rd floor and almost never used the elevator. He got out onto the busy New York street and got on and started riding. He wasn’t going anywhere he just wanted movement. If he couldn’t sit inside practicing he would get outside and get some air. He eventually crossed into Manhattan and rode around there for a little bit and then turned and went home. He had been out for a couple hours. He took a shower and opened a beer. It tasted good. It was a cold Bass Ale. Barney’s favorite. He liked to try a bunch of different types of beers but Bass was his stand by. Then the buzzer rang. He walked and spoke into the communicator and asked who it was.</p>
<p><br> “It’s me Sheryl, can we talk Barney”</p>
<p><br> The buzzer rang and Sheryl went in and started towards the elevator. When she got off Barney was standing in the door of his apartment looking up the hall at her. She didn’t realize that after he had buzzed her in he’d said “Oh fuck, the bitch has come to haunt me.”</p>
<p><br> “Hi Barn, is it OK that I popped in unannounced” she asked not really caring what the answer was.</p>
<p><br> “Sure” Barney lied “I was just drinking a beer, ya want one or a glass of wine or something”</p>
<p><br> “A wine would be good” and Barney was thinking he was about to be served her ‘whine’. As he uncorked the bottle he’d started with his dinner the previous night she started to speak.</p>
<p><br> “Ya know Barney, the other night was really fun, I...” and Barney interrupted her “You are wondering why I haven’t called.”</p>
<p><br> “No not really” she said.</p>
<p><br> “You aren’t?” he asked baffled.</p>
<p><br> “No what I was going to say is that it was fun and we should do it again sometime, don’t worry, no strings, just don’t give me anything, ya know. I don’t want a relationship anymore than you do. But I still got my urges”</p>
<p><br> Barney handed the glass of wine to her and smiled, this was not what he was expecting. He was expecting the whole “You don’t love me do you” crap that he’d gotten from numerous women he’d poked. </p>
<p><br> “You were not expecting me to say that were you, Barney.” and she sort of chuckled to herself.</p>
<p><br> “Nope, can’t say I was.”</p>
<p><br> “You were expecting the whole ‘why don’t you love me shit weren’t you”</p>
<p><br> “You’re good, do you always read minds so accurately, although I was using the word ‘crap’ instead of ‘shit’.” </p>
<p><br> “I know it makes me sound slutty but you seemed to have a similar attitude so it could work to both our advantages. Just don’t get pissed off if I do fall in love with someone.”</p>
<p> <br> “How can I accuse you of being slutty without accusing myself ?”</p>
<p><br> “Great well thanks for the glass of wine, wanna go grab some lunch somewhere. I’ve got the afternoon off so I was gonna do some shopping but I’m hungry” </p>
<p><br> “Sure there is a great little sandwich shop up the street a bit and they serve beer and wine.”</p>
<p><br> So as they walked up the street Barney told Sheryl of his tendinitis and how he had to quit playing guitar for a bit. She sympathized and going through both of their minds was “that is extra time to have sex.”</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580492019-01-31T12:00:00-12:002019-01-31T07:37:37-12:00VLAD IS MAD
<p> He burst in the front door at the Mind Fry Complex. He moved quickly. Babakar and John were in the kitchen. He said nothing to them. Hans came out of the bathroom and Vlad told him “Grab your sticks we’re jamming.” Hearing this John and Babakar gave each other a look of curiosity. Vlad was pissed, Vlad was mad. They could only speculate. Still Babakar went and set things to record. He didn’t know what was up but recording it couldn’t hurt. The bass and drums were still set up from when they recorded earlier in the day. When they broke for dinner Vlad had said he had to go to his hotel. He was meeting Melissa for dinner. Now he was back and was pissed. Hans and Vlad went into the studio and Vlad cranked up his bass and when Hans got a good groove going just hit the distortion and started wailing away. Over and over he kept ripping one note after the other screaming, feeding back howling, it was impressive. He would stop and then say “Again” and Hans would kick in. This went on for a bit all the while Babakar was watching the board unbeknownst to Vlad. After about 30-40 minutes of this Vlad put the bass down softly in the stand. He looked at Hans and said “Thanks” then he turned and saw John and Babakar. He nodded to them and put his coat and hat on and left.</p>
<p> Hans looked at the other 2 and just shook his head. “What do you think that was all about?” John asked Babakar.</p>
<p><br> “He seemed angry. Very much so.” </p>
<p><br> “Melissa, he was going to meet her for dinner.” John speculated.</p>
<p><br> Babakar just nodded his head.</p>
<p><br> Vlad was riding his bike up Lakeshore heading east. It took him a half hour but he finally got to the hotel. He was feeling exhausted. He went up to his room and poured a shot of vodka. He picked up a piece of paper with some writing on it. He read it again. Tears formed in his eyes while rage burned in his heart.</p>
<p><em>“Vlad,</em><br><em> I have decided to end this. I’m sorry but it just isn’t feeling quite right. You are only here some of the time while I am here all of the time. I suppose it was doomed from the beginning. I hope we can still be friends, I really love the music you are playing.</em><br><em> -Melissa</em></p>
<p>That would have been hard enough for him but when he called her it turned out the real reason is that she had started seeing someone else. She hadn’t the nerve to add that in her note. If she had only been honest he would feel sad... but the rage wouldn’t be burning so violently. He loved her, he thought, he couldn’t really tell now. He felt he hated her at this moment. It hurt, the pit in his stomach was painful and deep. He wanted vengeance. He wanted to hurt her as much as was possible. Emotionally, physically, psychologically... anyway he could he wanted her to suffer. He thought of harming her physically and while the thought pleased him he knew he could never do it in reality... he didn’t think anyway. She did this to him and now he hoped the worst for her. He poured more vodka. It didn’t help any. Then he poured a little more. It helped temporarily. But it was no solution. He had no solution. Time was the only solution and it was dragging it’s feet.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580482018-12-05T12:00:00-12:002018-12-05T06:55:38-12:00Reunion
<p>Babakar stood in front of Amadou and patted the horse on its nose. They were good friends. He had just returned from a trip to Timbuktu and he had left Amadou with his friends Penda and Mariam. Amadou was glad to see his friend Babakar. He stood quietly nudging him with his nose. Babakar pulled from his bag an apple and held it for the horse to eat. It sniffed it and then gingerly took the fruit out of Babakar’s hand and ate it. It was an hour after sundown and Babakar had excused himself from the 2 women’s company and walked out in the back of their place where Amadou was. He loved his horse and they did many things together. Amadou had liked Babakar immediately and gave him no trouble when Babakar mounted him the for their first ride. It had filled Babakar heart with joy that there had been no resistance. If he could he would gladly carry his friend on his back. Babakar had been lonely for a long time at that point because his previous horse Lester, who was also his first horse, had died suddenly. Babakar had not thought about purchasing another because he felt it was not necessary. He could always rent the 7 seater's to travel city to city and in the cities there were usually taxi’s or charettes. But then Penda and Mariam had been given Amadou and they really weren’t set up to tend to a horse. For a short period they could, as they had just done while Babakar was away, but financially and the layout of their property was not conducive to tending to a horse, although they really loved Amadou, he was just a very personable animal. When they offered him to Babakar it all seemed right so he took Amadou and rode him back to his village. That seemed a rare thing for a horse to so readily accept a rider. The 2 women told Babakar that they had talked to him about it and told Amadou of him and that they knew he would be ok with him. When Babakar asked how they knew they just smiled and said that they ‘just did!”. </p>
<p>So now the two were reunited. The moon was full and the night was well lit. There were a few clouds but the majority of the stars were visible. Amadou was just in the back of Penda and Mariams place. Inside a fenced area. The 2 animals stood facing one another in the moonlight. Penda went to ask Babakar if he wanted another glass of wine, for they had opened a bottle to celebrate Babakar’s safe return but when she looked out she could hear Babakar talking to Amadou although she could not make out what he was saying but she thought better than to bother these 2 good friends during this part of their reunion. She watched them for a few moments and Babakar was talking and Amadou would every now and then make a low sound and nudge Babakar with his nose. </p>
<p><br> “Amadou I know it seems odd to be friends with a horse, really it seems odd to many to be friends with any type of animal. So many look at animals as things or something to accomplish work with, like a tool, I cannot understand this. I do not consider you anything other than an equal. You are, if you really want, free to go. I am pretty sure you do not want that. As long as you wish to be with me I will take care of you. You give me great companionship my friend. Friendship, of any type, is so often over looked or disregarded. Too often I see people abuse their friends thinking that they can get away with things just because they are friends. You and I though we will be together for many years, God willing. You a horse and me a human. We do OK my friend we do OK. “ </p>
<p>And Amadou once again made a low noise and nudged Babakar with his nose.</p>
<p> </p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580472018-12-04T12:00:00-12:002018-12-05T06:39:51-12:00Improvise
<p>The pace was hot and fast at The Coal Bin, an underground jazz club on the east side. The musicians looked at their instruments with sidelong glances at each other. The guitarist, riffing like he was sent from hell... or perhaps like he would go there if he didn’t play well, was oblivious to all but the sounds that permeated the smoky club air. The group was a quartet. Officially they were called The Barney Cole Quartet. Ordinarily Barney had his group The Swingin’ Shards, but tonight he was playing due to a gig Pete, the drummer had gotten but Pete felt that he wasn’t well known enough so he asked Barney if he could call it the Barney Cole Quartet. Barney didn’t mind. After all it didn’t require and practice. Just show up and play. The only risk was that if you sucked, then it was his name associated with the bad performance. Barney didn’t care because he knew all the musicians and they were top notch. Especially Sarah on bass. She also played with the Shards so he was well versed in her style. The music was fast and furious. Pete set the pace from behind his kit. He was going crazy too. Smiling the whole way. He was one of those players who just loved playing regardless of the setting. He cruised along improvising around the jazzy rhythm of his ride cymbal. Sarah kept the pace while Barney riffed leaving the sax player, Anthony Loch, to wail a frenetic avant garde solo over it all. The room was in rapt attention. An explosion was going to occur when this piece ended. They waited and listened and absorbed and watched. Some closed their eyes so only the sound could affect their perception. Only the sound. The lead got thrown over to Barney while Anthony walked to the side to light up a clove cigarette. He sat smoking and nodding softly to the music. Now it was just the three of them playing. Barney started to take his lead farther and farther out into the stratosphere and Pete and Sarah just followed him. So there was a wailing and rocking sound coming from the cramped stage area. Having finished his smoke Anthony started back in on his sax and repeated a melody from earlier and the piece ended. The crowd erupted and each member looked at each other smiling. Pete’s beam just grew in intensity while Barney looked at Sarah and Anthony and then the floor smiling embarrassed. It had been a good jam. Structure and freedom all rolled into a piece that until that moment had never been played. A piece that too would never be played again. A moment in time, a creation for the span of that moment. The past had never heard it, the future would never hear it. But the people in The Coal Bin had heard it. No one else got to experience it. No one else ever would.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580462018-12-01T12:00:00-12:002018-12-02T03:26:39-12:00Vlad The Mysterious
<p><br> They’d been working in the studio most of the morning and afternoon. It was Barney and Babakar and Vlad and they were helping their friend John McGrail out with his next single. They’d gotten a lot done. For some reason John, who was a good guitar player, wanted Barney to play on this particular tune. Babakar was just there to oversee things. He’d been in the country working on trying to decide what tunes were to be included in the next Headwhiz CD and John had asked him to come by and loan him his ears expertise. Vlad he wanted because he was a better bassist than himself and he too was in town for personal reasons. He wouldn’t tell anyone what they were though…. He was being a little on the mysterious side. John had told Babakar that he thought he’d fallen in love but he was just speculating and that he had no real evidence of it. It turns out he was correct. Vlad had met a woman who he found intriguing but who also seemed to like him. This was something he rarely encountered. Vlad was a good guy but he was no “chick magnet” as Barney described Jean-luc. So when John said they were done for the day that usually meant having a few cocktails and heading to the Mind Fry Kitchen for some dinner. John would often do the cooking. Tonight it was Lamb Burritos. When Vlad declined to stay saying he had to get back to his room at the hotel, that he really wanted to get a swim in, no one gave him any shit because they were all assuming he was really going off to meet with his true love, which was correct even though no one had any evidence to support their conclusion.</p>
<p><br> So the remaining 3 went into the kitchen and John started to prepare the food. He was taking a bunch of ground lamb and adding spices and some pine nuts and rolling them into tubes that would then get grilled like a hot dog and then rolled up in a tortilla, flour, with feta cheese, lettuce, tomatoes onions and some diced up kalamata olives. He had Barney cut up some raw cucumber and green pepper to serve as crudités. That would be the meal... simple but good. Of course they would start with cocktails before they actually cooked and ate. Babakar was in charge of the drinks and he made 2 Manhattans using Makers Mark whiskey for John and Barney and poured a glass of Pinot Noir for himself. They went into the backyard of the Mind Fry complex and sat around the grill as John got the coals going.</p>
<p><br> “So you really think Vlad has met some chicky poo?” Barney queried John.</p>
<p><br> “I do although I’ve no solid evidence. It’s just that he has <em>always</em> joined us for the post session drinks and dinner. So something must be up. He wouldn’t say why he was in the country either which seemed odd. Still it’s good to see him and I love the part he did on “It Doesn’t Matter”. That was the song they’d been working on.</p>
<p><br> “I hope you’re correct John.” Babakar interjected “I think deep down we all want to be loved but with Vlad I’ve always felt he wanted it more than others.”</p>
<p><br> “Except for Robert towards Brett.” Barney chimed in. Babakar vaguely nodded his head knowingly. John said “Not going there Barn. Not going there.” Robert’s obvious affection for Lady Brett Fastley was something everyone was aware of, including Lady Brett, but no one spoke much of despite the occasional awkward moments.</p>
<p><br> In the meantime Vlad had rode his bicycle back to his hotel room and carried it up the stairwell to the third floor and put it in his room. He then changed into some shorts to swim in and pulled a tee-shirt on when there was a knock at the door. He opened it and there was Melissa. She was short with light brown hair and was considerably younger than Vlad, probably 15 years or so. <br> “Come in” he said smiling and she entered the hotel room. It was just a Ramada and it wasn’t one of the better Ramada’s either, but J. Kinslow wasn’t footing the bill, Vlad was. It did have an indoor pool. “Want to swim.” He said to Melissa. She smile and moved close to him and kissed him. Then they kissed a few more times until she finally pulled back and said “In a bit, but first…” and she reached into her large purse and pulled out a bottle of Grey Goose Vodka and held it up. “Let’s have a couple of these. Why don’t you fill the ice bucket while I change into my swimming togs? So Vlad was off to get ice and Melissa stepped into the bathroom and put her suit on. It was a one piece. She was modest and was afraid of going out in public with a bikini on. She stepped out of the bathroom just as Vlad came back. He put a couple cubes into each glass; Melissa had also brought 2 glasses so they didn’t have to drink out of cheap plastic cups, they both agreed that good vodka in plastic was an abomination, if it could be avoided. They also both agreed that if that was the only option it was to be used. They sat on the bed next to each other talking and sipping their drinks. Vlad turned on the news.</p>
<p><br> “Nothing particularly great in the world tonight.” He observed as the first story involved the paparazzi and the Royal family.</p>
<p><br> “Yeah there is.” Melissa said. Vlad looked at her questioningly. “Us, we’re together I think that is particularly great. Don’t you?” she said.</p>
<p><br> “Of course.” He said. They threw back their drinks and eventually got to the pool and swam but it was closer to 10 PM. The pool closed at 11 so they almost missed it.</p>
<p><br> Back at the Mind Fry complex the 3 guitarists sat jamming on acoustics in the back yard having eaten their lamb burritos and crudités. They had also knocked back a few drinks. Between jams John and Barney would stop and humorously speculate as to what Vlad was doing at that moment, sometimes quite graphically. Babakar refrained from joining in the speculation.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580452018-07-10T12:00:00-12:002019-11-06T04:29:35-12:00Bop Stop Boppin' Stop
<p>Vlad and Barney were in Cleveland for some recording at Mind Fry Studios. Tonight however they were downtown in Cleveland. They were looking for some live music and were having a hard time finding anything they liked. They had stopped in at a couple places and it was all crap. The one place over on Superior by the bridge sometimes had good jazz but tonight nothing. They still stopped there because they wanted a drink. They knew the woman who tended bar and they liked her. She had a nice easy going demeanor. Plus she was hot. They came in and went up to the bar. There was a decent crowd for dinner and some jazz played softly on the system Karen, the bartender came up and said “look what the cats dragged in... you guys back in town I take it. Gigs or recordings?”</p>
<p><br> “Recordings.”Barney offered . </p>
<p><br> “What’ll ya have?” she asked. Vlad ordered a vodka while Barney went with a Two Hearted Ale.</p>
<p><br> “Where can we hear some good jazz tonight?” Vlad asked Karen. “We’d hope you might have something.”</p>
<p><br> “Only Friday and Saturdays” she said apologetically. “Let me check the Bop Stops schedule for tonight. And she disappeared into the office for a bit. Vlad was looking straight into the mirror behind the bar while Barney spun his stool around to look out at the room. Karen reappeared with the drinks and news that Mike Fink is at the Bop Stop. Vlad knew Mike. He was also from Russia. He was a sax player. Stone bopper. He had wanted to join the Consort a few years ago and often hit Vlad up for an audition. Vlad liked Mike but knew he wouldn’t be a good blend for the Consort. He just told him Babakar wasn’t looking for anyone. Vlad looked at Barney with a look of “Want to go?” Barney agreed. </p>
<p><br> “He starts in 15 minutes.” Karen added. </p>
<p><br> “We can arrive fashionably late. I don’t want to rush our drink.”</p>
<p><br> “But you’re Russian.” Barney punned while Vlad just raised an eyebrow. So they finished their drinks in a relaxed fashion. Then they drove over to the Bop Stop. They had John McGrail’s car, a 2010 Honda with a pretty decent sound system in it. The Bop Stop was located in the Hingetown section of Cleveland. Vlad and Barney didn’t understand the name but they knew where it was. Barney was driving and it took them about 10 minutes to get there and find a parking spot. Hingetown was just across the river from the bar they were at. When they got there they got 2 seats near the back and more drinks. Mike was already playing. Indeed it was Bop. They were at the appropriate club given it’s name. His group was a quartet rounded out with piano bass and drums. The drums were an electronic kit and the bass was an upright electric bass. It was good. Mike was playing very well Vlad was thinking. Barney seemed to enjoy it as well. But it was when the piano player took off that it really got hot. She was amazing. Both hand just all over the place. The other 3 left stage while she, her name was Ava Jones Day, just owned the piano. When they had walked back on to the stage to join her and finish the tune the audience exploded. Barney was thinking how sad it was that the room was only 1/3 full. It was a good room with a good band. At the end of the tune Mike announced they would be taking a 15 minute break and they’d be right back. As he went towards the green room Vlad walked over and hit him gently on the shoulder.</p>
<p> <br> “Vladimir Polchinski, what the hell are you doing in town. Consort right.... got to be that.” <br>"Indeed. Barney’s right over there. We just thought we would head out for a night on the town and wanted to hear some jazz. When I saw your name I told Barney we gotta go. Sorry we’re late. We didn’t find out until about ½ hour ago."</p>
<p><br> “Glad you could. If you're still here after and feel like tipping back one that‘d be great.” </p>
<p><br> “I think we can do that. Have a great second set.” Vlad said turning to return to his seat. No one else had any idea what they had said as the conversation was all in Russian.</p>
<p><br> He went up to Barney and said “Feel like getting a drink with him after the show?”</p>
<p><br> “Absolutely. I’d like to meet that piano player. Damn she is hot.” Barney raved.</p>
<p><br> “She is hot and she can play her instrument too." Vlad chuckled impugning Barney’s’ intentions. </p>
<p><br> So the second set was better than the first and Ava was smokin’ hot. When they got done Barney and Vlad hung out at the bar until Mike came up. Vlad ordered 3 Vodka’s. Barney knew it was a tradition so he drank the vodka though he normally didn’t drink much hard liquor. Still how could he refuse. So the three raised their glasses and tossed back the clear fluid. It was then that Ava was walking by the three and she said “Goodnight Mike” Mike then called her over and introduced her to Vlad and Barney. “Nice to meet you. You got some great CD’s”</p>
<p><br> “Thank you, can I buy you a drink?” Barney queried hoping to get to talk to her more but she said “No thanks I’ve got to get back to the hotel.” in a matter of fact tone. Then she gave the 3 a general smile turned and left. Barney looked at her as she walked away. “You’re right Vlad... she <em>IS</em> hot.”</p>
<p><br> “Yes and you just got shot down.” and the 3 all started laughing though Barney’s laughter was the quietest.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580442018-05-14T12:00:00-12:002019-11-06T04:17:32-12:002 Glasses of Calvados
<p>Barney and Jean-luc had just left. They were heading over to a local bistro. The rest of the Consort that had been assembled that day had gone off to other commitments. Babakar Wade and John McGrail were sitting in the kitchen of the Mind Fry Complex. A pot of tea was steeping. On the table was a bottle of Calvados and 2 glasses. </p>
<p><br> “Sorry for having to use regular whiskey glasses, all our snifters have been broken. Even the little one that you liked so much.” John said.</p>
<p><br> “It’s OK, shall I pour us a bit while the tea steeps.” Babakar asked.</p>
<p><br> “Absolutely. It is well deserved after today’s creation. I know you were planning on finishing up the recording of “The Iberian Rhino” but I think you made the right call. That was a cool groove they had going there.. Get it while the iron is hot or whatever that phrase it” John said.</p>
<p><br> “It’s a good thing you were here. I had gotten detained out in Chesterland at the cottage. I didn’t know you were going to be here.” Babakar said.</p>
<p><br> “I actually wasn’t but I knew you guys were recording and I was out for a walk. Total coincidence.”</p>
<p><br> You see a neighbors horse had gotten out and was blocking the road. Wouldn’t move. Reminded me of my first horse Lester. He had a stubborn streak in him.”</p>
<p><br> “I remember Lester. A fine steed.” John said going back to his first days in Senegal when he had met Babakar. “When the groove started to really pump I figured I might as well click on the recording. I figured it might be something but when Jean-luc started to spit out those lyrics whew, that was when I really was glad. A bit scathing but man.... I’d hate to be the person who inspired that. Wonder if Barney will get it out of him.” John said. The group, save Babakar, had tasked Barney with finding this out.</p>
<p><br> Shaking his head Babakar added “ He won’t say. It’s not his way. Jean-luc will keep the details to himself. I can’t say I blame him.” Babakar lifted his glass in John’s direction and said “Cheers” they clicked glasses and each took a slow taste of the brandy.</p>
<p><br> “So you got a lot done on the tune. It doesn’t seem complete quite yet don’t ya think?” John queried.</p>
<p><br> “No, I wouldn’t release it like that but it is close. I was thinking Clore* is in town visiting Ms. Dannon. I think they are having a girls night out this weekend. I’m going to venture we might be able to steal her away for a quick session. I thought some vocals where Barney played his first solo, sort of background but also close to the guitar level might be good. What do you think?” </p>
<p><br> “Yeah, I could see that. Didn’t know Clore was in town.”</p>
<p><br> “She’s not yet but I think J. Kinslow mentioned she was coming in tomorrow or Thursday. It wouldn’t take long and she has always been eager to join us.”</p>
<p><br> “That is the first time I have ever heard Jean-luc do any type of vocal. It was a spoken word thing but he also had the idea of the ‘nobody likes you line’. Didn’t know he wrote.” </p>
<p><br> “I did. I may be the only person in the band that has seen his poetry. He’s actually quite talented but he doesn’t think so. He down plays his ability more than he ought to. Perhaps this will bring him out some.”</p>
<p><br> “Maybe. The gang can harangue him into it. Peer pressure and all.” John said smiling deviously. Babakar laughed and shook his head.</p>
<p><br> “You didn’t play anything on this piece. Do you think you might add some guitar or anything Babakar?” asked John.</p>
<p><br> “No, I don’t think so. The groove doesn’t need anything else. Perhaps I might add a vocal to the chorus but it was sounding quite good as it was. I don’t feel the need to be on everything. Sometimes the best thing a person can play on a piece is silence.”</p>
<p><br> “True. I’ve known too many people who just can’t play less. It can be frustrating as a songwriter. I think it is why I have had so few bands playing my music. Nothing worse than hearing your songs and not liking them.”</p>
<p><br> “Yes, I can imagine. The Consort never does that to me. I am very lucky to have come across this group of people. Everyone is so good at listening.”</p>
<p><br> “It’s why I played solo for such a big part of my life. I may not always know what I want on a piece but I definitely know when a part is not right. It’s just a hideous feeling. It’s embarrassing to be up in front of people when you don’t like how it is sounding. The audience may not notice but you do and it’s just about the most horrible feeling. At least artistically.” John added. Then he lifted his glass again and said “To the Consort... may they never cease to listen.” Babakar touched his glass to John’s and then went to the stove and poured the tea.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*Clore Terry a female vocalist that has previous worked with The Consort and John.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580432018-04-30T12:00:00-12:002019-11-06T04:23:36-12:00It's Your Accent
<p> Barney and Jean-luc walked into the bistro, at least it had the word ‘bistro’ in its name, they wanted to get something to eat and they wanted more importantly to get something to drink. They were laughing when the hostess asked them “how many”. They’d just gotten done with a session at Mind Fry Studios. It had gone well. The band had started a dirge like groove and were simmering along with it. Babakar had not yet arrived so they were just jamming. Luckily John McGrail was in the control room and started to record them as the groove played out. Then out of no where Jean-luc started spitting out some of the more caustic rhymes the Consort has yet to come up with. Realizing what they had they kept going all the while exchanging knowing looks at each other and the occasional repressed laugh. It was happening. Their collective muse was singing out loud and clear. Once Babakar arrived he gave it a listen and liked it so much decided they should skip what they’d planned and finish this recording best they could in an evening. It turned out that they got a great deal of it done but now it was that point where the creativity has dissipated and you just have the feeling. Better than post sex. The song was titled “Nobody Likes You”. Lyrics by Jean-luc Sartre!</p>
<p><br> The hostess had sat them by the window at Jean-luc’s request. It was just him and Barney. The rest all had obligations except Babakar who just felt like hanging with John at the studio. Seems there was some Calvados to be sampled.</p>
<p><br> “So Jean-luc, which one of your young conquests is this ditty about? Also since when have you been a lyricist?” Barney asked. Jean-luc smiled and looked down at his placemat. “I’ve always written. I wrote my first poem back when I was 8 years old. I don’t really think I am that talented so I don’t put anything out. It is more as my own sense of therapy that I write.” he said.<br> “Good stuff but I am really more interested in which of your many young conquests inspired this particular collection of rhymes? Seriously was it Clarissa, or Sarah, or.... what was her name, definitely a bitch,,,” Barney was saying.</p>
<p><br> “Not Clarissa, she was a sweetheart.” Jean-luc said.</p>
<p><br> “Ooooh, what was her name?” Barney questioned</p>
<p><br> “Rose, Flo, Tara?” Jean-luc said adding to the list.</p>
<p><br> “No not them, damn I can see her just can’t think of her name.”</p>
<p><br> “Mavis, Laura, Ann, Mary, Wendy, Sheryl, Sheila...” Jean-luc continued.</p>
<p><br> “No, no ah...” Barney perused his memory without success.</p>
<p><br> “Julie, Megan, Heather, Rachel, Courtney......” Jean-luc droned on.</p>
<p><br> “Damn Jean-luc, how many are there?” Barney asked incredulously.</p>
<p><br> “Agnes, Linda...” Jean-luc continued.</p>
<p><br> “I’m thinking of Linda, I think. Short, wide, solid...” Barney was speculating.</p>
<p><br> “That’s an accurate description of Linda. Lacy and Jennifer were bitches, as well, which is not to say its about any of them, just that they were bitches.”</p>
<p><br> “Linda, it’s Linda I’m thinking about.” Barney concluded confidently.</p>
<p><br> “I admit the lyrics don’t cast the figure being spoken about in a good light. But there are people like that. I suppose it could be about a lot of women. I don’t like to think of my words as weapons so I would never reveal who it was about. It doesn’t matter. It’s not really about a particular woman, though I admit there is one who was an important motivation for the lyrics. Besides it’s what is said not, who it is, that is important. Seems harsh but it is fairly cathartic for me, I can’t apologize...”</p>
<p><br> “Wouldn’t want you Jean-luc, but......who is it about. The whole band wants to know. They gave me the mission to find out. Have another drink.” Barney implored</p>
<p><br> “We haven’t gotten our first yet, where is that waitress?”</p>
<p><br> “True, but I have to get you drunk so you’ll tell.” Barney said fully knowing that admitting his plan was not going to advance it.<br> “Won’t happen Barn, Babakar himself could ask and I wouldn’t say, although he, I bet, is not in on the plan that has sent you as inquisitor.”</p>
<p><br> “You’re right. When you’d gone to the bathroom the rest of us were talking about it. Babakar just shook his head and smiled. He knows over grown kids when he sees them.” Barney said. After a moment he added “But who was it?” And they both started to laugh. It was then that their drinks arrived.</p>
<p><br> “I will say, though I think it is obvious from the lyric, that it is about a young girl, a ‘conquest’, as you put it, but I won’t say who.” Jean -luc went on.</p>
<p><br> “Pfffftt, that doesn’t narrow it down much at all ya know. ” Barney said shaking his head. “Why is it that you bag so many young ones. You’re older than I am! How do you do it.?”</p>
<p><br> “That my friend I cannot answer. It just seems to happen. I have to admit I rarely make the first move. It is always the young girls that come on to me. I would only expend my own energy on an older woman, one who has some substance, someone who could challenge me intellectually, merge with me spiritually, someone who knows something about true passion, if you know what I mean... but... if a young girl wants to jump into my lap well that’s fine. Throw yourself at me that’s OK. I’ll catch. It will be fun for a spell and then it will be over.” Jean luc said. Barney smiled shaking his head. Then there was silence as Barney sipped his beer and Jean-luc tasted his wine.</p>
<p><br> “It’s your accent it’s got to be your accent!” Barney said once the silence went too long. “Maybe I’ll start using an English accent and see what happens. Think that’d work for me?” Jean-luc just smiled and took another sip of wine.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580422017-11-18T12:00:00-12:002019-11-06T04:32:56-12:00Angry Art
<p><br> Art was angry. They had just put out their 2nd album and this one had taken a good 10 years to get out and once again they didn’t have any parts for his Lambeg Drum. He went out the front door of his place and walked up the street to Mickey’s, the local pub he drank at, and pulled up to the bar and ordered a Smithwicks. He also ordered some chips. He knew that the Lambeg was limited in its application but he thought there had been spots that where it could have been used. “Fucking Babakar, he’s a goddamn tyrant. I don’t know why I bother with them. I suppose I do get to travel the world a bit with them but I don’t get to play. Maybe I should write some pieces for solo lambeg. Put my own record out. Fuck them.” Art Paisley was talking out loud as he took intermittent sips on his pint. The bartender, Matt, listened sympathetically to Art. “Still not utilized on the Consorts album eh Art?” he piped in.</p>
<p><br> “No, fuck’em Matt. Ya know ya think they would use me if I am going to be listed on the albums. Put his name on the cover but don’t let him play. What’s the point, ya know??? Art said.</p>
<p><br> “Well ya got a point but then you do get out of Belfast with them, and don’t you get along pretty good just as friends. You get some notoriety without which you’d have none, eh?” Matt reasoned.</p>
<p><br> “I suppose, but I love the drum. It consumes me. I want to be heard is all Matt. What musician learns to play music but doesn’t want to be heard. They can be used more often than just in the Orange parades. That just usually leads to trouble ya know. I want the drum to be used for good. The Consort would be the ideal place for that to happen because its such a wonderful blend of musicians from around the world. Tolerance isn’t preached in the Consort but it is a great example of what it can lead to. I want the drum to be part of that legacy ya know.”</p>
<p><br> “Didn’t you have some vocal parts on the album?”</p>
<p><br> “Yeah, but its not the same. They just like it cuz I have such a high and whiny voice it fits well in some parts and for some harmonies. Like on “Rainier” I did the doubling of the voice with Babakar. See... I could have seen some of the Lambeg on that piece. Sparse but an important part of the arrangement! Maybe I should put out an album of solo pieces. What do you think of that Matt?”</p>
<p><br> “Honestly I think you’d be daft to try that. No one wants to hear solo Lambeg drums. Sorry Art that’s just my view but it doesn’t seem too far fetched ya know"</p>
<p><br> “I know what you’re saying its just damn disappointing ya know.” Art said and he looked down into his pint that was almost gone.</p>
<p><br>"Another Smithwicks Art?” Matt asked.</p>
<p><br> “Yeah and a shot of Paddy’s, thanks Matt, for the drink and the ear.”</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580412017-09-18T12:00:00-12:002017-09-19T05:55:04-12:0040 Days
<p><br> Babakar went out to the country with his horse Amadou. He was going for forty days to fast and meditate. He only brought enough provisions to last 40 days eating at a predetermined rate. He allowed only a small amount a day. Most of what he took with him was dried fruit and peanuts. He knew how to procure water out in the country so he did not take large amount as it would be too heavy and he did not wish to burden his horse with the load. Of course he also had plenty of food with him for Amadou, including carrots and apples. He hoped he would not be tempted to eat them but then again the battle against temptation was a good thing. It would steel his will and make him a better, stronger person. Of course he wasn’t going to make Amadou fast. He was his friend and companion. He had lost his first horse Lester a few years ago and this saddened him but since he had met Amadou they had been drawn towards each other naturally and Amadou truly loved Babakar. Thus Babakar rode Amadou out into the Senegal country side with a pack of provisions that mainly were for Amadou. He wondered why he did this sometimes and the answer always came back to him that until it was over it didn’t make sense but once he had done it he knew it had been a good thing. So he rode off wearing a wide brimmed hat, sunglasses a thin sleeveless shirt and some string pants his tailor had made him just for this journey and a good pair of sandals. He would head south toward the Gambian border. The first 5 days he traveled early in the morning and then later in the day stopping to rest in what shade he could find during the hot portion of the day. Eventually he found an area that he thought they would settled down for about a week. He would do some writing and meditate and occassionally ride Amadou just because they enjoyed doing that. They had found a good spot in the shade of a magnificent Baobob tree. It was huge and as the sun moved so too would the 2 move to stay in the shade of the massive trunk. Babakar did not tie Amadou up as he knew he would not try and leave and this allowed the horse to seek out a more comfortable area if he chose to do so. Occasionally Amadou would head over to a slightly more forested area and stand occasionally nibbling at the grass. There also was a small river near by that Amadou would drink from. </p>
<p><br> They ended up staying in this area for most of the forty days. His meditations had taken him deep inside himself. At one point Babakar was so seemingly distant that he was pulled back to reality by the large nose of Amadou nudging him. He slowly came back to the world Amadou existed in and he looked up at his friend with a distant look in his eyes. Amadou whinnied softly. </p>
<p><br> “Thank you, Amadou, you must have realized what was happening.” Babakar said. At the time the horse was nudging him Babakar had been having some rather frightful hallucinations. The combination of the fasting and meditation had led his mind off in directions that he wasn’t in total control of. This was not something that normally happened to Babakar. He was generally very good and controlling the path of his thoughts. He was glad to have been brought back by his horse.</p>
<p><br> “Amadou, I don’t know exactly what these visions meant or if they meant anything but there were many disturbing things in them.” Then he leaned back against the great Baobob and started to tell Amadou of his visions. “At first my friend, I was seemingly walking along a great long road and the sun was high but it was cool. It was not here but somewhere else where the temperature can be cool even with the sun bright and high, I was wearing a sweater in fact, an Irish knit sweater. I was feeling wonderful. Perhaps I was in Ireland or the British Isles somewhere because there was a lot of green and a lot of rocks and there was the scent of the sea in the air although I could not actually see or hear it. I felt very very good but then I was hearing thunder in the distance and the clouds were starting to form. This did not disturb me too much as I had an umbrella with me plus I do not mind getting wet. The sky got very dark and it was so dark that cars passing on the road had their headlights on, and it continued to grow darker with each passing moment. Then the sky started to light up but the lightning was not normal. It flash was a different color, some red, some blue, some green. It was magnificent and yet frightful. It did not seem to me to be a good sign. This was just a gut feeling. Then the clouds parted and American planes from WWII were swooping down on me and firing their weapons. The weapons too all shot with a different color in the flash. All around me the weapons were. Then I turned and there was a dark hunched man talking out of the side of his mouth, on both sides even, and he was telling me to surrender, that I didn’t have a chance and that I should just lay down my arms. I was telling him I have no arms and that I want no trouble. He looked at me and said “Then what are those???” and he motioned to my bodies arms. I had to admit “they are arms, but I have no arms in terms of weapons, you must realize that” But he would not hear what I was saying. And a large chorus appeared behind him and the sky turned blood red and they started to sing “He has No Weapons” over and over but he would not hear them either. He turned to a smaller man behind him. Now this man was not someone who was very intelligent. In fact when he spoke he often seemed, perhaps, mildly retarded. The dark hunched man spoke to the dumb man, who must have been his lord master as incongruous as that might seem, “See he admits that he has arms, we should kill him before he attacks you. My God we don’t have much time, its gotta happen now, your life is in danger... now, now, now..................” With that the dumb man nodded and then on the horizon appeared a large army of lizard like men riding a beast that was a combination of a bull, with its horns and large back and a dragon with its long flexible neck and its wide spread legs and they were advancing on me and all I had to defend myself was these two human arms. Then the light in the sky was covered and I looked up and saw flyng beasts that looked like reptilian eagles. They passed down at me and out of their mouths were weapons fire that scattered all around me though I was never hit. Finally after many seemingly hours of assault by all these force the dumb man said “Bring it on” the dark hunched man nodded to some lizard officers and they signaled to some others who signaled to others until finally flying through the air was a giant elephant like beast with wings and it was carrying a cylinder in its claw like feet it was trumpeting a great noise through its long trunk and the sound echoed across the land. All life stood still in fear. That is when I realized how mad everything was. That cylinder would, if the elephant dropped it, destroy everything. How I knew this I am not sure but it was the truth. It seemed everyone knew. It seemed to be common knowledge. Only the dumb man and the dark hunched man were not stilled with fear. The dumb man continued to gaze with a lifeless look in his eyes while the dark hunched man sat off to the side of the dumb man jumping quickly up and down clapping his hands and laughing hysterically. It was then that you started to nudge me and brought me back. Honestly Amadou I believe that if you had not done that and the cylinder had been released in my vision I well may have died. Thank you my friend, thank you.” And with that Amadou made a low noise and Babakar stood up and patted his friend on the neck. Amadou nudged him gently with his nose in return. <br> “Perhaps a carrot is in order for you” and he went to his pack and pulled a couple out. By the time he turned around Amadou was right behind him in anticipation. Babakar gave him a carrot and pulled some nuts and dried apricots out and ate them and drank some water from a wine skin he carried with him. This would be his dinner for the night. It was all he would eat today. He handed Amadou his second carrot and then went and sat down. He was tired. The vision had physically taken a lot out of him. He drank a little more water and decided to sleep. As the sun fell across the Senegal country side by the base of a large Baobob a horse looked over a man sleeping soundly. The horse looked down on his friend and just thought. He was a good man and he was treated well by him. He could sense the day they had met that he was destined to be with this person. He was not a horse who took easily to people for he had been treated poorly during part of his life by a man. When he had been turned over to the 2 women who were friends of Babakar he felt like life was taking a turn for the better. Then as soon as he had seen Babakar he knew it was a pairing that was destiny. He was happy to live this destiny out with his sleeping friend. He would watch over him while he slept for these 40 nights. He could sleep at ease knowing the horse was there.</p>
<p><br> There was still about 6 days left in the sabbatical but Babakar eased up on the amount of serious meditating he was doing. He had gone a little too close to the edge and was disturb by the visions. He did not want to go that way again and wondered just what the visions meant and where they came from. Instead he did a lot of writing in his journal and recounted his visions there and tried to figure them out. He did a lot of gazing at the Senegal country side and he spent more time with Amadou down by the river. In another day he would start to travel again. He was 3 days from Banjul and would start heading that way. Amadou sensed that travel was due. He liked to travel so he was noticeably excited. “Soon very soon my friend” Babakar said to his friend. That night he made a fire. He did not normally do that. The sun was up long enough to light most of what he needed to be lit but tonight he just felt like gazing into the flame and eventually the glowing embers. He just made a small one that only lasted a little. He sat and thought about his group The Headwhiz Consort. They would soon congregate to plan a small tour around the Mediterranean starting in Gibraltar. He was excited about the tour. They had put an album out about half a year ago and had toured briefly in support of it in Europe and then they had disbanded and gone to their own projects. Barney Cole had a small tour with his group “The Swingin’ Shards” up and down he east coast of the United States and Mairead O’Connor was doing some avant garde shows in Dublin. He was still concerned about Samba and Robert. They had been detained at the U.S. border because Samba had a recording of Cat Stevens “Peace Train” and Robert was with him. Perhaps when he got back to his village there would be word, or better yet Samba would be there and he would assume that Robert had made it back to Israel. Vladimir was no doubt back in Russia and Lady Bret was hobnobbing somewhere in the world. He wondered if she thought at all about Robert. He clearly loved her but she was oblivious to it, or at least that was what she projected. Then there was Art. He had gotten a negative vibe from him during the last tour. He wasn’t quite sure why. He seemed angry all the time. He could only hope that if he had a problem he would bring it to him directly and not let it stew. Hans and Jean-luc were no doubt back in Germany and France respectively. They stayed probably the most active musically then anyone except Barney who gigged a lot in the States. “Amadou, if Samba and Robert aren’t released in time for the tour should we cancel it?” Amadou whinnied and shook his head up and down. “I agree, if we are a group we cannot go on without all the pieces. It is too bad that we are not more famous or perhaps the press would take note and question why these 2 innocents have been kept so long, alas J. Kinslow has his lawyers on it. I trust he is doing all that can be done.” With that he got up to go to sleep. “Tomorrow Amadou we head towards Banjul. It will take a few days. Then we can rest for awhile and perhaps splash some in the ocean. Perhaps our dolphin friend will appear. It has been awhile since our paths first crossed and it was in The Gambia that we first met so perhaps.” With that Babakar lay down for the night and once again as the sun fell across the Senegal country side by the base of a large Baobob a horse looked over a man sleeping soundly.</p>
<p><br> The next days they rose before the sun and got an good jump on the day. They ended up covering more ground then he had anticipated. “Probably Amadou was getting restless. He moved well today and had not had to do much for the few weeks. He is strong and has great will.” he thought to himself. Eventually they got to Banjul. Babakar stayed at a hotel that allowed for him to tie up Amadou “It’s only for one night friend. Then we will go camp by the sea. I need to have a couple Guinness before we head north again. Amadou nodded his head in agreement. He had seen Babakar drink a cold Guinness on other occasions. He could see in his face the enjoyment he got from it. For that reason he did not mind being tied up over night, besides he didn’t tie it tight enough that Amadou couldn’t get away if he wanted. <br> Babakar’s first stop was the African Heritage on Wellington Street. It was a place he could get a Guinness or 2. It was located on the second floor and he got a table that was on the long porch that overlooked the street. He could see Amadou standing tied in the shade. When his beer was placed down in front of him he thanked the waiter. Then he whistled. Amadou turned his head and looked at Babakar who was holding up his pint in a toast to his friend. He sat relishing the pint. It’s heavy taste and the coldness of it was heaven after 40 days of fasting. He also ordered some food, a plate of chebou-jen which had not been delivered. When he was served his food he asked for a second pint. The food was delicious. He ate it eagerly. It was his first ‘meal’ in 40 days. He felt good for having done the sabbatical although he was still troubled by his vision. He wondered what would have happened if Amadou had not been there. He looked over at his horse and noticed a man by him. He watched as Amadou did not seem troubled by him which was unusual. Then he noticed a familiarity. It was Samba. Babakar stood up and called to him them went dashing down the steps and out to the street where Samba was. He grabbed him and gave him a big hug. “Samba you, you are, you’re here!? Where have you been what has been going on” Samba looked at his friend and smiled a very tired smile. He was clearly glad to see Babakar but it wasn’t the robust smile that he normally had. “I thought I recognized Amadou. A fine steed Babakar.”<br> “Indeed, but where have you been? J. Kinslow has lawyers out trying to find out what happened to you. Does this mean he was successful?”<br> “Yes it does, sort of, I think, but I will tell you about it someday. I cannot go back through it right now. Please understand. I am too tired.”<br> “Of course, what brings you to Banjul?” Babakar asked<br> “All I will say for now is it is where they dropped me off.” Samba said quietly.<br> Please come into the inn and I will get you some food” <br> “Thank you, Babakar, I am very hungry. What brings you to Banjul?”<br> “It is the end of a 40 day fast and sabbatical. I have been out in the country.” he answered.<br> “Let us go in and you can tell me about that. I know you wish to know more about me and Robert and where we have been but for now you tell me of you 40 days. It may take a long time for me to talk about this. Perhaps Robert will tell you sooner. He was not a Muslim or a black man in America.” <br> They were both silent for a bit and just looked at each other. After some moments Samba motioned that they go in. They went in ascended the steps and sat at the table Babakar had. There was a warm ½ pint and a plate of room temperature chebou-jen sitting there. There was a fly on the chebou-jen.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580402017-04-28T12:00:00-12:002017-04-29T20:31:11-12:00It's A Plan
<p>Jean-luc and Vlad were in Cleveland for a recording session at Mind Fry Studios. It was a Saturday night and they had been recording all afternoon. It was going on 6 when they wrapped up for the night. John McGrail had been doing the engineering and said “Guys I think we’ve got all the takes were going to get today. How about some dinner?”</p>
<p><br> “Sounds good to me.” Jean-luc said while Vlad nodded his head in agreement. </p>
<p><br> “I can cook or we could head up to The Standard. It’s a new joint on the strip.” John said. John was no chef but he had a decent handle on the kitchen but the other two said in unison “The Standard”. So to save money they had their cocktails at Mind Fry, which always sported a well stocked bar. John and Jean-luc had Manhattans while Vlad took his vodka on the rocks. They sat in the back yard as it was a warm spring night and had their drinks. They would walk over to The Standard in a bit. </p>
<p><br> “Anything going on tonight in Cleveland? John.” Jean-luc asked. John got a thoughtful look on his face and went over the things he had seen while perusing Facebook and the local entertainment rag. <br> “Someone I’ve not heard is playing up at the Euclid City Limits. That’s a cool place. Good listening room. Free pizza and you can bring your own alcohol. Someone is at the Barking Spider though I don’t know who and there is this avante garde performance in Tremont, a guy I knew years ago when he was a student at the institute of music is putting on. It’s him and his group Lisp. And then there is a duo from Pittsburgh that combines percussion and dance. I think Lisp has some dancers performing with them too. Tremont’s a cool area.”</p>
<p><br> “That sounds like an idea.” Jean-luc chimed in. Vlad nodded in agreement. </p>
<p><br> “Well lets try that. It’s in a yoga studio over there. It’s right by where I get coffee when I’m at work.” So they finished their drinks and walked over to the Standard. The food was very good. Jean-luc and Vlad both had the steak while John had the Mac and Cheese. They finished and walked back to the Mind Fry complex and got in Johns old 97 Civic and headed west. They got there about ½ hour early. John had thought the show was at 8:00 but it was scheduled for 8:30 So they got coffee’s from the coffee shop and wandered around the neighborhood.</p>
<p><br> “Trendy place.” Vlad noted.</p>
<p><br> “Indeed, I used to come down here when I had a Grey Sky together and Smagola, the bass player, lived around here. I think on West 10th, the place has since burned down, sadly with 2 of his basses in it. It wasn’t trendy then. It was a little on the dangerous side. Still is on some levels. There have been holdups and even a few murders but nothing like it was back in the 80's. One night Jim and I were drinking rum and we went out for a walk. Headed down the hill over there. At one point Jim stopped and says to me. "We don’t want to go any further. We should go back." Seems there was a building with squatters in it and they really didn’t like others coming around. It was a fun night. I was young and wild and the city was an adventure back then. I’m much more familiar with it now. Doesn’t seem quite so exciting. At least to me.”</p>
<p><br> “It’s a nice area though.” Jean-luc added. “Definitely trendy with all the valet parking. It’s nice street parking is free. You don’t get that in New York." So it was almost time for the performance and the 3 went over to the studio where it was being presented and went in. There was a couch against one wall and then yoga mats on the floor for the audience to sit on. John and Jean-luc sat on the mats while Vlad took the last spot on the couch. It was just starting. A man with a long grey pony tail, glasses and a pink cap came out and announced the program for the evening. 3 pieces 2 with dance. The whole presentation should be just over an hour. Then he went and sat behind the Wurltizer and that was when John realized that the man was his old friend Jason. He was unrecognizable from the young man he used to know who had short black hair and was on the skinny side. He would talk to him after. The piece had a dirge-like groove to it and there was a woman playing a processed viola. Also there were 3 young woman, siren-esque, John was thinking, that came out and did the dancing. It wasn’t an athletic dance but rather one of slow movements. The woman were sliding around the floor and pulling each other around. Jean-luc took a particular liking to the small dark haired waif. He might consider hitting on her after he was thinking. The piece lasted about 20-25 minutes. Next up were the duo from Pitt. The woman danced while the percussionist created the rhythm she moved to. He was unique in his approach. Using various things to create the sounds. He had a floor tom and a rototom as his main instruments but he augmented them with a variety of other pieces including what looked like an automobiles spring, chimes removed so they were separate bars. He would actually toss these out on to the dance floor where the woman would move to the sound they created hitting and sliding across the floor. She would then pick them up and use them to create more sound. Their ability to work together was actually quite impressive. John looked over at Vlad sitting on the couch and Vlad looked back and nodded his approval. Jean-luc was concentrating on the dancer who, while more solid than the previous dark haired waif, also encourage his mind to consider hitting on this one afterwards. The third act was a woman playing both a flute and sax that were heavily processed. She was running them through delays and distortion and some other things. This got loud. At the end of the night all the performers did a group improvisation. When the last piece ended the lights went up Jason came out to thank everyone for coming and that was when John went up to say hello. Jason turned and just as he was about to tell him he was himself Jason recognized him and say “Hey” he gave John a big hug and they talked for a bit. He introduced him to Vlad and mentioned they were in town for a Headwhiz recording and then turned to introduce Jean-luc but he had moved over towards where the dark haired waif was gathering her things and was talking to her. He pointed towards Jean-luc and said “He’s also in the group. Does the flutes and whistles. Jason then announced that they were all going over to the Literary, a local bar, for a drink and everyone was welcome to join them. This the 3 did although Jean-luc accompanied the dark haired waif, who’s name was Clarissa. Seems Jean-luc had worked his magic on her and she seemed very interested in this older gentleman with the French accent. Vlad and John sat at the bar. John had a pint while Vlad went with his usual vodka. Jean-luc sat at one of the small tables with Clarissa and one of the other dancers they all drank red wine. </p>
<p><br> “What’d ya think Vlad?”</p>
<p><br> “It was good. At least the first two pieces. That woman on the processed sax and flute sucked. Just noise as far as I’m concerned.”</p>
<p><br> “Yeah, that was my thinking as well. I’m ok with working with distortion and feedback and even dissonance but she sucked.”</p>
<p><br> “She did nothing that hasn’t been done a million times before. I’d be embarrassed if I were her.”</p>
<p><br> “If you were her, or she you, it wouldn’t have sucked.” John said. </p>
<p><br> “Wonder what Jean-luc thought. He processes his instruments but he sounds way better than she did. Too loud too.”</p>
<p><br> “D’ja notice the one woman who walked out while she played.”</p>
<p><br> “Yeah..”</p>
<p><br> “I noticed her making a face towards the woman she came in with that said ‘can’t take this I’m out of here.’” John added. At that point Jean-luc was standing next to Vlad who turned and gave him a look that said “Yes, what is it?”</p>
<p><br> “This is Clarissa, gentlemen. Clarissa this is Vladimir Polchinski the great bassist of the Headwhiz Consort and this is John McGrail a fine musician in his own right. He’s from Cleveland.”</p>
<p><br> “Nice to meet you. My friend Annie, one of the other dancers, has seen you play at the Spider recently. Said you have a great voice.” Clarissa said.</p>
<p><br> “Aw shucks. She’s too shy to say anything to you but she saw you walk in tonight and told me that. It’s too bad she left. I could have introduced you to her.”</p>
<p><br> “Well, tell her I play at the end of April, the 27th I think it is. I’d love to meet her. Your dancing was kind of the highlight of the evening for me” he said, which wasn’t really the truth as he actually thought the pair form Pitt were the highlight but a white lie to possibly meet a cute woman or gain a new fan was an acceptable lie in John’s world.</p>
<p><br> “Well nice to meet you. I’ll remember the date and drag her down there. She can be notoriously shy though. Nice meeting you.” and she turned to leave so John and Vlad looked at Jean-luc. “I’m going to walk her home. She lives in Tremont. They turned and were about to go out the door when Jean-luc came back to John and said “Don’t wait for me. If I come back and you’re gone I’ll get a cab... If I come back.” Jean-luc said with a 1/4 of a smile on his face. John looked at Vlad and Vlad nodded his head. When Jean-luc and Clarissa were out the door John turned to Vlad and said “How does he do it? By the way we can go anytime Vlad. He ain’t coming back.”</p>
<p><br> “Let’s stay for a bit anyway. Not to wait but the vodka is good and the scene is too. When we want to leave we’ll leave. You’re right John... he won’t be back.”</p>
<p><br> “It’s a plan” John said.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580392016-09-15T12:00:00-12:002017-03-30T18:33:26-12:00Robert Presents a Song
<p style="text-align: left;">Babakar and Jean-luc were sitting in the Mind Fry kitchen sharing some tea and discussing the use of an orchestra and the conductor Raul Espinoza. Jean-luc sat with his back to the window while Babakar was sitting in the main chair looking out the window. Many of the Consort members were in Cleveland to do parts for their latest CD which was the follow up to the wildly popular Perdido which had come out several years earlier. As Babakar looked out the window at the birds amassing in the locus tree as they considered flying up to the suet block hanging just outside the window he noticed Jean-luc look up at the door heading into the next room as if someone had entered. He turned in his chair and indeed there was Robert Kohn. Robert wasn’t a musician per se he was the programmer for the Consort, although Babakar consider him to be a musician who’s instrument was a computer. </p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">"Babakar, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.” Robert said with a nervousness in his voice. Jean-luc started to get up to give them some privacy but Robert said “you needn’t leave Jean-luc. It’s about a song I put together and would appreciate your views as well.”<br> </p>
<p style="text-align: left;">“Very well.” Jean-luc sat back down and offered some tea to Robert who declined.<br> </p>
<p style="text-align: left;">“You have something about one of the pieces for the next album?” Babakar asked.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">"Actually I wrote a song myself, and I know I don’t usually write songs but sometimes things just kind of build up until they force themselves on you and it all bursts out in some kind of creation. If you know what I mean.” He spurted out with much anxiety in his voice.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">“Indeed I do, those are often the most intense pieces of art one can come up with. What is this song.”<br> </p>
<p style="text-align: left;">“Well I worked up a version of it last night while the crew was out for dinner, that was why I declined to join everyone. John said it’d be ok to work in the studio while everyone was out. It gave me a few hours to get the idea out and into a format I could present to you.”<br> </p>
<p style="text-align: left;"> “We’ll lets hear it.” Jean-luc chimed in. It was a curious moment as Robert had never written a piece of music but only applied his considerable programming abilities to the music the Consort recorded and performed. So Robert pulled out a flash drive and handed it to Babakar who plugged it into the laptop that was in front of him. There was only one file on the drive but Robert still added “It’s the piece called 'Ice Dragon'."<br> </p>
<p style="text-align: left;">So Babakar set the song playing and the 3 of them listened through the laptop speakers. As there were only 2 chairs in the kitchen Robert remained standing which only added to his nervous demeanor,. The song played and was about 4 minutes or so. When it got done there was a moment of silence. Then Jean-luc chimed in “I like it. I like it a lot. Interesting lyrics.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“Your vocals,” Babakar started to say before Robert interrupted him</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“They're terrible, I realize that, I’m clearly not a singer but it’s what I had to work with last night. I thought we might get John to do guest vocal like he did on “Who Darkened The Sun”. I think he’d be perfect for it. Babakar was nodding his head like he agreed with the idea.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“The only thing I would say is that it might not go well with the pieces we’ve been working on. It might not fit in. The lyrics are a bit on the caustic side.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“Oh I didn’t necessarily mean for it to be on the new CD I just thought maybe if we recorded it it might be useful somewhere down the line.” Robert added.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“What about a single. Mind Fry has a deadline coming up for one of the free singles they get. If we could get it done quickly. It could be done.” Jean-luc added.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“That’s a possibility.” Babakar said and he inquired what Robert was thinking in terms of an arrangement.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“Well a lot of what I put on there could be used but instead of the lead synth I thought you or Barney might do some smokin’ guitar stuff and I’d really like Lady Bret to do some live mallets instead of the virtual ones. I think she’s perfect. I’d like Vlad to do the bass but he’s not in town. Maybe you could do it Babakar. You did all the bass for the Freeloaders album with your friend Daniel some years back?” Robert said and he seemed to have it all worked out already. Babakar nodded in agreement.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“Yes, I could do that it’s not a difficult part. Let’s do it this afternoon. Barney and Brett should be here in time for lunch and then we can start with what you have and add what ever is needed. I’m sure John won’t mind me borrowing his bass for it. Once he wakes up we can check to see if he’s up for the vocal. Which I don’t doubt he will be.” It was only 10 in the morning so they still had a few hours before they could commence on the song. Robert thanked Babakar effusively and seemed more excited than he had been in a long long time. Then he excused himself and said he was going too head over to Gus’ Diner and get breakfast. When they were alone again. Babakar commented to Jean-luc </p>
<p style="text-align: left;">“These are interesting lyrics. I wonder who this Ice Dragon is that inspired the tune.” </p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“Lady Brett, no doubt.” Jean-luc said.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“Yes, I was thinking that as well, do you think she will see herself in this and possibly object?”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“No.... yes... she will see herself in it but she won’t object. She is well aware of Roberts affections for her and quite frankly doesn’t care. She will play the hell out of her part as she always does.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“Do you think it’s a mistake doing this. He seems so eager to do this and it is an interesting tune. I never thought of Robert as having such a caustic outlook on anything. He usually seems so innocent, even naive in an endearing way.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“Ah but he is a man and a man who’s love is being scorned, so like he said ‘things just kind of build up until they force themselves on you and it all bursts out’.” </p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“I hope this doesn’t affect the camaraderie of the Consort. It’s an important part of what we do.” Babakar said with genuine concern.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“I think his affections have always been there for her and she has always known it. Remember it was Brett who recommended Robert to you. She knew then how he felt about her and how she felt about him. None of that has changed. To her he is just an incredible programmer. Unfortunately I think that he feels she recommended him because she has some affection for him, which is not the case. We have weathered it this long. I don’t see this song as a problem. Besides I can hear Barney’s leads all over this. He’s going to love it.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>“Yes, and John can have the caustic nature to bring these lyrics to life in convincing fashion.” Babakar added with a slight smile on his face, though too a trace of sadness.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580382016-09-10T12:00:00-12:002017-03-30T18:34:56-12:00Robert and Charlie
<p> Robert came into his apartment. He walked to the coat rack and hung up his coat, scarf and hat. It was a cold day out. Cedric, the parrot, said “Hello Robert” as he did whenever Robert came in. Robert said “Hi Cedric, Hi Charlie,” He was talking to his parrot and the Charlie McCarthy dummy in the corner. The dummy didn’t answer. Still he continued. “Charlie, she is sooo beautiful... and yet I don’t know if she has noticed me yet.” He sighed and plopped down on his love seat. He lived alone and didn’t have many friends over so he got a love seat instead of a couch because it took up less space in his living room. He put his feet up on the coffee table and looked at the photo on the wall. It was a photo that Lady Bret had taken while the Consort were on tour. It was a large Baobab tree in Senegal. Robert and Samba were standing in front of it. She had given him a copy and he had it blown up because <em>she</em> had taken it. He felt like having a drink but he thought that drinking in the middle of the week was not good. Still she had pretty much blown him off. They had plans to meet for lunch and she had not shown up at the café and an hour later she called saying she couldn’t make it. He could hear a man, another man, in the background. She had just thought it was OK to blow someone off. This happened a lot to Robert. “Charlie, is it me, is there something inherently wrong with me?” he asked the dummy in the corner. Charlie said nothing but just stared with its mouth in the open position. Charlie often said nothing but Robert appreciated him for being there and listening.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580372015-07-13T12:00:00-12:002017-03-30T18:39:51-12:00Riding Off The Vodka
<p><strong>Riding Off The Vodka</strong></p>
<p>Vladimir was breathing heavily as he pumped the pedals of his bike. He was riding up a very steep hill outside his home town near the Estonian border. He was riding off a heavy night of drinking. He and some of his band mates had gone out and drank a large amount of vodka over an average period of time. His head hurt a little as he got to about the half way point on the hill. He wanted to sweat. Whenever he would sweat after drinking he always felt better and the more he sweat the better he felt. He had noticed a letter from Babakar sticking out of the mail box when he walked out of his house to fetch his bike. He just left it in the box until he got back but he was wondering what Babakar would want. They had just finished an album called Baobob. Vladimir always wondered about the spelling. In The Little Prince, by St. Exupiary they spelled Baobab with 2 ‘a’s not 2 ‘o’s. Babakar liked the more obscure spelling. John also liked it. He didn’t care he just thought it was funny. “Artists’ he thought. He didn’t think of himself as an artist he just played bass guitar and that was it. He reached the top of the hill and he stopped at the entrance to a monastery. He had been past it many times but had never seen anyone going in or out. There was a gate but it was always open and it was flanked by 2 curving brick walls. The name was written in English. St. Peter and Paul Monastery. He stopped. He had not been riding his bike much this year. It was still early in spring so the weather had not been that good. Today luckily it was in the upper 60's which was warm enough for Vladimir to ride. Given that he had drank heavy the previous night he was glad it accommodated what he felt was the best medicine for this mini hangover. If he was truly hungover he would still be vomiting or at least dry heaving. He hated it when he got to the dry heaves. He would bend over the toilet, or whatever it was he was vomiting into and his face would just become beet red and his mouth would be open the truly acute might actually see a small amount of puke vapor coming out of him but other than that nothing. Then it would subside for a little bit. Then another wave would take him over. Then he’d get the shits. Vlad, indeed was glad he was only suffering from a mini hangover. Mainly just head and body aches. <br>He was at the top of this great hill he had just climbed and he looked back over the valley he had just rode out of. It was beautiful right now. There was a bright green hue to everything because of the youthfulness of the leaves at that time. Only the fir trees had a dark green hue. Vlad felt good. His headache was lessening, probably more to the aspirin he took before leaving than the riding, and his body was feeling stronger. His hair was dripping wet with sweat. Vlad was a sweater. He didn’t perspire or glow as his ex-wife had once described herself when she was working out. He exuded buckets and buckets of a rich saline solution. A spry mind could probably harvest it and make money off it Vlad had often thought. When he had caught his breath he started to pedal again heading out a country road that ran east. It was about mid morning and the sun was in front of him and off to the right a little. He had his sunglasses on so it didn’t bother him. He kept on pedaling. He was thinking of the conversation the previous night. One of the guys he had played with, a sax player, had been dropping big hints for Vlad to get him into the Headwhiz Consort. Vlad liked the guys playing but he could tell that the personality wouldn’t fit in and he wasn’t going to recommend him to Babakar. He didn’t want to waste Babakar’s time. Vlad was OK playing with him but it was usually in more impromptu gigs where a leader would gather several musicians together and they’d play what originals they knew as a group or some standards that they all knew. That was the nature of last nights gig. He didn’t feel he would fit in with the mixture of people in the Consort. The sax player was a stone bopper when given his druthers. Vlad liked everything and made a reasonably successful effort at being able to change styles depending upon the circumstances. He felt the sax player would be real pushy to do too much bop. They all liked bop but they didn’t want to limit themselves. Ultimately he said Babakar wasn’t looking for any musicians presently. He only did it when he felt he had a need. This got the guy to quit bugging Vlad and he could get back to enjoying his buzz. <br>He had ridden about 3 miles since topping the hill when he noticed a café at a crossroad. He pulled his bike up and chained it to a post and went in and ordered a beer. He tried a potato beer that they said they specialized in. He had never heard of potato beer but it was cold and tasted good. He also ordered some bread and cheese and fruit. He was hungry with nothing in him but his morning coffee and a piece of toast. The women who brought out the food was a lovely dark haired buxom wench who Vlad instantly wanted. She was probably too young for him. He had to figure she hadn’t heard of the Consort or any other project he worked on so he couldn’t use that as a angle. Ultimately he just ate his food and drank the potato beer and watched her as she moved from one table to the next. She had a gracefulness to her that Vladimir appreciated. Vlad was 40. She was probably 25. Alas. “Maybe she has a mother who is just as lovely.” he thought sadly. Vlad wanted to fall in love but it never seemed to happen. He wasn’t ugly and he was certainly a nice person but he must have some deficiency to him that he didn’t recognize that repelled folks. Not folks so much as pretty women. He ordered another beer just to sit and watch the young lass. Eventually he paid his bill and went out to where his bike was chained up. As he moved the lock’s combination to the right numbers he hears a voice ask<br>“Are you Vladimir Polchinski?” It was the waitress sticking her head out the door of the cafe.<br>“Why yes, yes I am” his heart lifted maybe there was a chance.<br>“My mom loves your Headwhiz group, but I think you guys suck and she plays it all the time. It’s fucking torture. Nothing personal” the girl said.<br>Vlad nodded his head and politely said “Fuck you too”. And then he got on his bike and finished his bike ride. When he got home he got into the vodka for a little bit and then took a nap.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580362015-04-18T12:00:00-12:002015-04-19T02:03:59-12:00To The West
<p>To the West</p>
<p><br> She had only been back in the country for a couple of days. She needed to get to the west though. It was drawing her there. It had been so long since she’d been home, at least by her standards for she was a homebody at heart. She liked to be near her piano and with a pint or a shot within reach at the end of the night. She loved Dublin but she lived there mainly because it was the place to be if you were a musician. It allowed her to play more than if she lived out in Connemara. Her family was originally from there. They lived in the coastal town of Spiddle on Galway Bay. She had thought of moving to Galway as it had a music scene but it wasn’t the same as Dublin’s. Plus she genuinely liked Dublin city. But now having spent the last 3 months either in Senegal or Cleveland, Ohio Mairead O’Connor wanted to go and roam amongst the mountains in the west . She called her good friend Mary McGreal who had a place on Lough Corrib in Oughterard. If she wasn’t going to be using it she would always let her stay there so long as she kept it clean and in good condition, which for Mairead wasn’t a question. Mary wasn’t home when she called so she decided to take a walk up the street and get a pint. She would inquire later with Mary. Either way she was going. There is a plethora of B and B’s so she would splurge a little if necessary. She really liked Mary’s place as it was right on the lough and she could go out in Mary’s little boat and just float in the water, plus there was a piano there. She put on a shawl and tied her hair back locked the door of her apartment. She went down the stairs to the first floor, Mairead rented an apartment that was over a sandwich shop so she stopped in and said hello to Mack the owner. She wanted to place an order so a sandwich would be ready when she came through. Mack was glad to see her<br> “So you’re back are ya?” He said smiling and coming out from behind the counter to give her a big warm hug. Mack was a short but wide man with a great warmth that just oozed out at everyone he knew. If he didn’t know you, a person might get the impression he didn’t trust you, but if you were his friend there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you. Mairead and he had first met when she started renting the apartment 10 years ago. She had ordered a sandwich while her piano was being moved in. Mack loved music and instantly started talking to her as the 2 movers struggled with Mairead’s baby grand. She had chosen this apartment because it was isolated from neighbors except Mack’s shop and a pub that was on one side and a warehouse type building on the other. Her piano would not bother anyone. Mack was ecstatic about a pianist moving in<br> ‘Ya better wait to find out if I’m any good ya know” Mairead had remembered saying to him. A couple years later Mack had turned to her out of the blue while they were sharing a pint on her porch, which looked down over the entrance to Mack’s shop, and said “You were right I probably should have waited to get excited over a pianist moving in but ya know, I had a gut feeling you were really good and ya know what else... I was right.” This had really endeared him to her because of the way he had said it and the intensity of sincerity that it conveyed. <br> They sat talking for a good half hour but eventually she put an order in to be ready in an hour and they gave each other a hug and Mairead proceeded up the street to McSwarthy’s Pub. It was about 3 blocks up and the air felt good. It was mid October and it was a grey overcast day but the coolness had felt good. She had just come from Dakar Senegal where she was with the Consort for a couple concerts and some promotional appearances. It had been hot there. It was around 95 degrees, which by Senegal standards isn’t overly hot. She had been there when the temperature floated around 120 degrees. Hot indeed. Today it was in the low 50's and there was a crispness in the air. She got to the pub and stepped inside and who was there but Mary McGreal sitting at the bar with a Jason Heinrich. Jason was a mutual friend of there’s from America. He’d been living in Dublin for 3 years now as part of a record company’s promotional team in the U.K. Jason was stewed. Mary was laughing when Mairead came up. They both turned to her. Mary stood up and gave Mairead a hug.<br> “Your back. Excellent. How’s Senegal and Babakar and all the crew?”<br> “They are all doing fine. Babakar sends his best. And I am sure if he’d met you Jason he would send his best to you too.”<br> “Whozthis Babakar you talk of” Jason said slurringly while trying not to slur. <br> “He is the Consorts fearless leader” Mairead answered.<br> “What Consort???<br> “Jason your fucked up, I’ve told you several times about Mairead’s group, you even have their first album, silly.”<br> “OOOh THAT Consort, the Headwhiz consort something something”<br> “Moderne Internationale” Mairead finished the groups title for him<br> “I’m sorry Mairead, you see I am really really really really drunk, been sittin’ here all day doing shots of Jamesons and pints of Guinness”<br> “A good combo and who woulda thought ya’d find a drunk in a pub ?? Surprise surprise!” Mairead said. She had seen Jason stewed many times before. He wasn’t really an alcoholic but when he drank he did it with gusto. “Today must be his day off “Mairead thought to herself<br> “Ya know Mary I just called you to see if your place on the lough was free for a few days. I’m just chompin’ at the bit to get out west these days. “ Mairead asked Mary.<br> “Ya know Mai I was planning on heading out there tomorrow. Why don’t you just come with me. It’d be fun to have someone around. You can play the piano all you want. I won’t bother you at all ‘lest ya want a little company. Use the boat. You can take the car and go to the Mountains near Westport or go over to Clifden. I won’t be using the car at all. The only catch would be that I’m coming back in 5 days so I’ll leave Friday and come back Tuesday. Is that schedule good for you?” <br> “You sure you don’t mind. This sounds more like you have planned it a bit. Are you sure a extra person won’t wreck your mood. I understand if you do.”<br> “Look, I wouldn’t’ve offered if I didn’t want it. It’ll be fun. We can spend the days doing what we want and then I’ll make dinner and we can have a bite and a nip of something.”<br> “What about my piano playing? Will that be a bother?”<br> “Mairead, you are a wonderful player. It not only would not be a bother but it would be a joy to have live in music such as you supply. Please, if for no other reason join me and play so I can listen.”<br> “Great, and thank you. What time were you planning on leaving?<br> “It takes 2-3 hours so by noon. I’d like to get settled in before dark. Maybe get a boat ride in or something before dinner” <br> “I’ll be at your place bag in hand by noon Mary, and thank you so much” so Mairead finished her pint and headed home picking up her sandwich at Mack’s and going up to her apartment to pack her rucksack for the next day. She was very excited. This was just what she needed and she was glad that Mary was going to be there. They were a good pair. It was easy to be around Mary and not be bothered and you also felt that she wasn’t being bothered.</p>
<p>The next day couldn’t get there soon enough for Mairead. She actually had a hard time getting to sleep because she was so excited. The mood out west was different. It was much more wide open. The landscape was beautiful and craggy and green all at once. She probably would take Mary up on her offer to take the car as she would like to possibly climb Croagh Patrick and look down on Clew bay and she wouldn’t mind heading over to the area around Kylemore Abbey. Often she would just pull to the side of the road and leave the car and just walk along the road. It was a very beautiful area. “One of the finest areas in the world” she said to Babakar recently when they were in Dakar.<br> The next day got there and at a minute after noon Mairead knocked on the door of Mary’s house. Mary lived about 4 blocks form Mairead so she had walked there and felt invigorated by the late morning air. It was a day with partial clouds but lots of blue sky peaking through. It didn’t look like rain. That was good. Mary opened the door jokingly chastised her for being a minute late. Mairead didn’t even go into the house. Mary had her bag and stepped outside to the drive where the car was and they threw their things in the back seat, got in, Mary started the car. She looked at Mairead and said”Ready” Mairead smiled in agreement. It seemed to Mairead that Mary too was eager for this. They pulled out and made their way to the road to Mullingar. From there they passed through Athlone, Ballyforan, Moylough past the Knockmoy Abbey and into Galway City where they stopped for lunch and a pint. After their repast the got back in the car and took the road north to Oughterard. It was a little after 3 P.M. when they got there. They went inside and sat down, a little tired from the drive and the pint at lunch. Mary put on a pot of tea which they both had and this seemed to renew their energy. “I’m gonna take the row boat out, you want to join me Mai?” Mary asked<br> “No thanks, I think I might just read or perhaps play some “<br> ”OK, see ya” and with that Mary headed out in to the back yard to the edge of the water and put the boat in. Mairead just sat for a bit. She opened one of the windows as it had gotten a little warmer since yesterday with the sun peaking through. “If the heat kicks on I’ll close it” she thought. Eventually she grabbed her rucksack and unpacked it. It had a couple changes of clothes and underwear and the sort but it also had a small tape deck and some blank sheet music in case she wrote anything. There were 3 rooms for sleeping and Mairead took the one near the front of the building. The best one was the one that looked out over the lough but that was Mary’s. It was her place after all. She knew Mary would say she should take the good room but if she was already moved into a different one that would be how it would be. She made a little more tea and drank that and then she sat at the piano. Mary also had a baby grand. It was an old Chickering that had been in her family for years. Mary had claimed it when her parents had both passed away and she’d kept it in playing condition all these years. Next to her own this was one of Mairead’s favorite piano’s to play. Granted she knew the setting had something to do with it. As she played she could see Mary floating out in her boat. Both of them loved the boat and neither of them fished. They just liked floating and dreaming. Eventually Mary returned and Mairead was napping. The smell of Mary cooking rousted Mairead who came into the kitchen and poured both of them a cocktail. Mary had Jameson’s on the rocks while Mary asked for a Manhattan. They had a vegetable curry and rice that Mary had whipped up from what was available. Tomorrow she would go to the little market up the road and get some supplies. Mary had no real plan. She just wanted to stay in her place and had brought a bunch of books to read. She didn’t have the desire to go climbing around the hills and the mountains exploring like Mairead but that was just her mood at the moment. Plus she got out west a lot more than Mairead did. After dinner they had a nightcap and went to bed early. 3-11-06</p>
<p>The next morning the sun coming in the window woke Mairead. She slowly climbed out of bed slowly realizing where she was. It sometimes took awhile when she had been staying in different places a she had been recently with her work with the Consort. She paused sitting on the side of the bed for a moment and then a smile broke across her face. She was in the west. This was where she wanted to be and now, on this fine day, she was here. She pulled on a sweatshirt and a pair of sweat pants and walked out into the main room of the cottage. Mary was already up and the scent of coffee filled the air. Mary drank tea but she knew Mairead was a coffee addict so she had that brewing. <br> “I figured you would be getting up soon what with the sun rising and the scent of your beloved coffee wafting through the air.” Mary said as Mairead entered the kitchen.<br> “Good morning to ya Mar.” Mairead said and then sat down at the table and looked out of the kitchen across the main room towards the lough. “Do you mind if I take the car today Mary?” she asked<br> “Not at all. I plan on reading and walking to the market for some supplies and we need to another bottle of Paddy. Given that I have no need for a car. Where ya think you’ll be goin’?”<br> “I’m not totally sure but possible Westport way and towards Croagh Patrick. I also wouldn’t mind taking the ferry out to Inishmore.” If one today then the other later in the time we are here. Feel like going to Croagh Patrick. I really wouldn’t mind company there.” she asked<br> “No thank you Mairead, I’m am older and more feeble than you, I see you aren’t extending the invite to Inishmore? There a reason for that?” Mary asked smiling.<br> “Nothing personal I just really like the solitude I can feel when I am there. I simply get out in the fields and wander until I hit the cliffs then I sit on the rocks with cows behind me and the water in front of me. Please take no offense.” Mairead with a tremor of fear that she might have offended Mary.<br> “No offense taken, I just noticed it and I figured that was a special place for you. The keys are on the hook just take them as you need them. Let me pack you a lunch to take with you. Perhaps a few cheese and tomato sandwiches with some sprouts. I don’t have much in the house yet and I suspect you want to get a jump on it.”<br> Yeah, I’ll probably take off within the hour. I just want to drink the coffee and shower and then I’ll be off. No need to hold dinner for me. I probably will gone most of the day. I’ll start heading back when the sun starts to set so I don’t have to drive too long in the dark. Maximize my daylight hours romping around... that sort of day.”<br> Mary got up and went to the fridge and started to make the food for Mairead who then took her coffee to the bathroom and took a shower. She decided to head towards Croagh Patrick and try and get up that today. She had climbed it many times. It was about 2600 feet. Not hugely tall but a good climb. She got out of the shower dressed. She took a notebook and a small her tape recorder and a pint of Paddy’s in a glass flask with a leather holder. She wasn’t planning on getting stewed or anything, not with her driving Mary’s car but a nip at certain points of the day was going to add to the overall day she felt. She thanked Mary for the lunch and grabbed the bag containing it and then walked out the door grabbing the keys off the hook. She got in to the car and took the road through Recess so she was in the vicinity of Kylemore Abbey. She pulled the car over to the side of the road and just got out and walked around a bit. It was beautiful. It had started to rain and gotten overcast but the rain was light and didn’t bother Mairead at all. She just walked along the edge of the road and looked at the mountains around her. At one point she stopped to marvel at a mushroom that was the size of a hubcap on an automobile. Thick too with the cap being a good 4-5 inches from the tip to where the stem connected. With all the green and stone showing. She had parked near a small bridge that went over a wetland area that spread in to a small lake that was in front of the Abbey. As she looked across the water she noticed 2 men in a boat fishing and behind them was the Abbey with a mountain rising behind and to the right of it. Green and powerful. Then she turned around and on the other side of the bridge was a small body of water with many reeds growing up. It was all so beautiful she felt. She was home. She was back where she belonged. She loved that her music took her many places but ultimately she belong here and today she was here. She walked around the area for about an hour before getting back into the car and heading towards Croagh Patrick via the towns of Leenane, Delphi and Louisburgh. She approached the mountain from the west along the road that ran along the southern side of clew bay. The farther north she got the more the weather cleared up. The sun was starting to pop out intermittently. That was good she had been on Patrick in some of the worst weather one could imagine and there was no view. She had been enshrouded in clouds and fog with a strong rain. She had an umbrella with her so she once she got to the top she went next to the little white chapel there and crouched down and held the umbrella low over her head so she was protected well against the rain. Today wasn’t a day such as that. Today she had better weather and time was on her side. It was only 10:30 so she wasn’t rushing.<br> She got to the parking lot at the base of the mountain. There were a few people around but it was the off season for tourists. The people who were there seemed more like locals here for reasons possibly similar to her own. She got out of the car and threw her rucksack over her shoulders and proceeded to ascend the mountain. The first 20 minutes of climbing was serious walking on Mairead’s part. Then she realized she was missing everything and she slowed her pace and started taking in the scenery. Her first 20 minutes had gotten her up the mountain away from the others who had been down in the parking lot. So she felt she could go slower without them catching her. That was the only part of this mountain was that it was a tourist area. Still there was a strange pull for her. She had been raised Catholic and still attended church when she could. She still had her faith in Jesus and the whole Catholic approach although she didn’t consider herself a good catholic as she had sex out of marriage and didn’t go to church on all the holy days and often didn’t observe lent although she didn’t eat a lot of meat to begin with, it wasn’t something at the forefront of her mind during the lenten time of the year. She stopped at one of the summit stations. She read the inscription and followed their instructions. She knelt down and said the Our Fathers and Hail Mary’s then she prayed for he pope and started circling the station and saying the prayers as instructed on the plaque. When she was done she paused. She wondered what someone would think if they’d seen her doing it. Then she continued her ascent. <br> After about 2 ½ hours she got to the top and the sky had cleared so there were only an occasional cloud. She looked around and breathed in the fresh air. It was cooler at the top but she was on the warm side from the climb. She sat down and pulled out the one of the sandwiches Mary had prepared for her. She noticed that Mary had put in the bag was a little bottle of wine so she opened that up. She looked down the Mountain and could see no one so she had the place to herself for probably at least a half an hour. She took her time eating the cheese and tomato sandwich and sipping the wine. It was an excellent combination. Not just the sandwich and wine but these things with the way she felt and the view. Her muscle felt relaxed and she felt an ease come over her for the first time since she had been back in Ireland. It almost brought tears to her eyes she felt so happy. She took a sip on the wine held it in her mouth a bit to let the flavor get into her sinuses and then swallowed it. She smiled and gazed down at the land below. Off to the east were field where they were gathering peat. She looked out across the blue waters of Clew Bay. She would stay up here until there were too many people or until she felt she had to go back to Oughterard. Both occurred about the same time. She got a good 2 hours by herself and just sat thinking. Her mind crossed a lot of topics and she at times just didn’t think at all, at least to the best of her ability. Mairead did have a certain ability when she was alone to lock out her own thoughts and to just feel the moment. She would try to describe this to others and they usually would end up nodding there head in hopes that she would quit talking because they were starting to think she was a little crazy. Sometimes she felt she had some mystic Irish presence in her, although that wasn’t what she normally felt. For now she was happy with the sun coming down on her and her having this wonderful mountain top where S.t Patrick had done 40 days and nights. In the back of her mind Mairead often would hope for some type of epiphany while she was up here. She thought maybe there was something holy about this place and that God would talk to her. She didn’t really expect this but somewhere in the back of her mind she would like this to occur. It would cancel any doubts she might harbor about the existence of God. As she sat looking south she heard voices coming, and it wasn’t God but the folks from the parking lot she assumed. She decided to leave. She pulled her rucksack on and started heading down the mountain. The area right around the peak was particularly tough as there were many many jagged rocks that were not packed down so they would constantly shift under your feet. Eventually you crossed that and got to where it was just a vague dirt path you could follow. It was easy from there on as it was smooth walking and downhill. She got back to her car and it was about 3 o’clock. She went into Westport and stopped for a pint at Molloy’s pub. It was owned by the flute player for the Chieftains. She had met him once and they’d discussed music for a little bit. She thought he was just a fine person and his playing was unmatched. Plus he was very handsome she thought. He wasn’t there that day so she sat reading a paper and drinking a pint. The bartender made some small talk with her but she wasn’t in the mood and he realized it and left her alone. After the pint she walked around the corner to visit an old friend of hers who had a B&B. She stepped in and asked if Rita Shridon was in. The girl who was in charge stopped and the look on her face got very serious. “Were you a friend of Rita’s?” she asked. The use of the words ‘were you’ chilled Mairead. “Yes, my name is Mairead O’Connor. I only know her from having stayed here. Is she well?”<br> “No, you see Rita passed on about 6 months ago. I am her granddaughter and I have been running the place since then. I’m really sorry for the bad news.”<br> “Yes, well, that’s very sad. Was she ill? I haven’t been this way in a couple of years but Rita always remembered me. It was very endearing. She seemed such a wonderful lady”<br> “Indeed she was. No she wasn’t ill but had a sudden heart attack. It all came rather quickly. My mother is still grieving. That’s why I have been taking care of the place. Did you need a room?”<br> “Oh no, I was just passing through town and thought I’d pop in for a moment just to say hello. Well, I should be on I guess. That is very sad. Give your mother my best. I have met her on previous stays here. She too is a delightful women. I’m so sorry for your loss. Goodbye” and with that Mairead backed out of the door, as she had never totally entered before the girl had engaged her in conversation. The whole time she’d stood there half in and half out of the door. Now Mairead walked back up the road to where she had parked the car near Molloy’s. She stopped next to it and paused. How odd. Just a couple of hours ago she had felt so wonderful and now she was so depressed. “A heart attack... Rita seemed so vigorous. Who would of thought?” she said quietly to herself. Then she opened the car got in and headed back to Oughterard.. She had, as she always did, taken the long way home which took her on the road that passed on the eastern side of Lough Mask and then the road that cut between Lough Mask and Lough Corrib. Then she headed south into Oughterard. She got to the cottage just as the last just as the sun was starting to go down. Mary was sitting in the big room reading with just one light on drinking a cup of tea.<br> Looking up as she heard the door open Mary Said”Welcome back oh weary traveler. How’d your day go?”<br> “Excellent until the end. I stopped in to see someone in Westport, a women I had know from staying at her B&B and it turns out she died of a heart attack 6 months ago. I mean we weren’t best pals or anything but I would always stop if I were n town just to have a cup of tea with her or a glass of whiskey if it were later in the day. It’s sad. She was a really lovely person.” Mairead and there was genuine sadness in her voice.<br> “How about a shot of Paddy’s. Lets toast your friend I pick up another 5th today.”<br> “Yeah, that sounds good. She would be glad to know we toast her I think.” And Mairead went into her room and deposited her rucksack while Mary grabbed 2 glasses and the new bottle of Irish Whiskey. She poured 3 fingers each neat. The clicked glasses and Mairead said “To Rita Shridon may you rest in peace.” and they clicked glasses again and took a drink. They sat down together and talked for another hour. Then Mary went out for a walk. Mairead at this point sat down and started to lay the piano. She felt so sad from hearing about Rita that the only thing she could do was play. She was just making stuff up as she sat at the piano. It was a great comfort to be able to do this she felt. She caressed the piano. Emphasizing her grief with minor chords and a slow dirge like tempo. It was quite beautiful she was thinking but also very solemn and sad. She went into her room and got her recorder out of her rucksack and put it on the piano and recorded what she played for the next hour. Eventually the tape ran out but at that point the ideas she had been noodling with were on tape to be evaluated later when she could think straighter. Her mood wasn’t one at that moment to stop feeling how she felt just to get an idea down. Sometimes an idea would send her into a flurry of activity. But now she could only let the emotions out that she was feeling via her instrument. It made her feel better to know that something good came out of her finding out about Rita’s passing. Perhaps tomorrow she would return to the idea and work it out. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to do any driving tomorrow. She had done a lot that day and perhaps some rest and piano tomorrow would be good. Perhaps Mary would want to go to the pub and knock back a pint or two or three. As she played the room got darker and darker until she was playing totally in the dark. Finally she stopped playing and she heard a voice coming from the back yard. “Don’t quit playing that was beautiful.” She went to the back door and there was a man she recognized. It was Seamus from next door. He was visiting his aunt who lived there. She had met him previously when she had come here alone. He would always sneak outside the window and sit and listen to her playing and listen. Most of the time he said he would leave without saying anything but today he actually made his presence know.<br> “Don’t stop Mairead that was gorgeous. Very sad sounding but really really wonderful I’m sorry for eavesdropping, I figured the last time I did it you didn’t seem upset and what you were playin’ was so darkly uplifting. You’re sad aren’t you?” He asked. He was not one to keep things in that was something Mairead had learned early on with Seamus.<br> “Yes, I had a wonderful day going to and climbing Patrick and then I stopped to see a friend I had met staying at her B&B only to find she’d passed away. Came as a bit of a surprise.”<br> “How close was she” Seamus asked.<br> “Not like family or anything, just one of those people you befriend and always figure they’ll be there. Then she wasn’t. I’m not sure why but I feel it deeper than perhaps I should, than what ‘normal’ folks would” Mairead continued.<br> “Well, I don’t know ya that well but ya never gave me the impression you were ‘normal’ and I mean that as a compliment. I mean god yer playin’ alone shows you aren’t a run of the mill human being, thank god.”<br> “You’re too kind, would you like a nip of Paddy’s. I’m going to have one and then probably crash.”<br> “I’d love one.” So they sat and drank a couple fingers of the whiskey while looking out over the darkened Lough Corrib then Mary came home and she joined them which lead to more drams being poured and pretty soon the bottle was showing its dent and so were the three. The conversation lasted long into the night. Mary mentioned that Mairead had been in the states and Senegal for her music which just made Seamus pepper with questions. <br> “So what type of music is it that this consort plays. And why such an odd name?” Seamus asked. He listened to mainly traditional Irish music.<br> “Well my friend Babakar is the one that put the group together and he likes to do more experimental thing. Not totally wacked out. There is a lot of melody and rhythm but it isn’t normal folk or pop music either. Kind of a blend of world, jazz, classical avant garde and of course a bit of rock and roll.” Mairead spewing out almost verbatim the press release. She had helped write it with John McGrail, one of the composers who supplied them with music, and Babakar. “As far as the name goes that is something Babakar and John came up with along with another American who goes by the name of Projectile Vomit.”<br> “That’s a hell of name” Mary chimed in.<br> “Yeah, he’s the vocalist for a group called The Chunks. If I got this straight they used to go by the name Projectile Vomit and the Spontaneous Chunks but they shortened it to just The Chunks for commercial reasons. It’s pretty out there stuff though. I’m not sure there is any point in worrying about their commerciality. I have a CD of some cuts they’re working on we can play sometime if you are interested. Babakar is one of The Chunks. For what its worth. They don’t play much so it doesn’t take up much of his time.”<br> “This Vomit guy, what is he a Satan worshiper or something, why would you take a name like that.???:” Seamus asked.<br> “Actually he’s a very nice man. He can get a bit abrasive at times and be a bit strident but deep down he has a good heart and soul. Lovely little daughter. She won the Mind Fry Person of the year award. It’s something they give out over in Cleveland. It’s a funny trophy they’ve been passing around for over a decade. I never actually saw the ceremony but I have seen the trophy”<br> “Well maybe tomorrow or sometime while you are here you can play me some of this music. I thank you for the whiskey. I should be heading to bed or I’ll end up sleeping out here behind your house.” Seamus said standing up. He wavered a bit and then gathered his bearings. Luckily he only had to walk through the gate that separated the 2 yards. “Good night lady’s”<br> Goodnight Seamus” Mary said.<br> “Night Seamus” “dittoed Mairead. The two women sat on the porch talking a little longer and then they too went to bed.</p>
<p>The next day Mairead awoke with a pain in her head. Her stomach felt OK but she clearly had drank some the previous night. She didn’t rise until almost ten in the morning. When she did there was Mary in the kitchen area with a bottle of aspirin in front of her she also had her tea. Seems she too encountered the same bottle as Mairead. “Wonder how Seamus is feelin’” Mary said.<br> I hope better than my head feels. At least the stomach is OK. How ‘bout you?” said Mairead.<br> “I’m OK there too. Just a little pain in the temples. Nothing else.” Mary said slowly and carefully as if to think too quickly hurt. Mairead laughed a little but only in empathy. They were a sorry pair. Couple of hungover women. “Don’t think I’ll go anywhere today. Maybe I’ll just recover. Mary had the coffee ready so Mairead poured herself a cup and sat across the table from Mary. No one spoke. Steam rose from her cup and she sipped it gingerly partly due to the heat but also she wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to get her stomach started. The 2 women sat silently. At one point Mary put some toast in for both of them. She didn’t get anything out to put on it. She didn’t want anything and was assuming that Mairead probably didn’t either, at least not on the first slice. After about 45 minutes of silent coffee and toast Mairead got up and said “I’m goin’ back to bed. She picked up the bottle of aspirin and ate 3 of them filled her coffee cup with water at the sink faucet and drank that with the aspirin. Then she went back to bed. While Mary didn’t go to bed she did end up falling asleep on the couch and neither was to move until it was about an hour before sunset. When they finally did get back up they felt better although they were dragging. Mary suggest they go to the pub for dinner. “There was a good all you can eat fish thing at McNulty’s Black Dragon Pub. I’ll treat. “ Mary said.<br> “What if they don’t have the fish thing.” Mairead asked.<br> “I’ll still eat, we can just eat off the menu”<br> “Oh, I was really just wonderin’ ‘bout the food.”Mairead said not wanting to imply she cared if it was still Mary treating or not.<br> “It’s pub grub but its good. The Shepard’s Pie is probably what I eat there the most when the fish thing isn’t happenin’. I think my stomach can handle that at this pint.”<br> “Mine needs something”Mairead said as her stomach growl audibly.<br> “Guess ay do Mairead, lets then. It’s just a short walk up the road on the left. It’s right on the lough too so with luck we will get a seat that looks out the big window.” <br> The walk took about 10 minutes at a slow pace when they got there who was in there but Seamus. When he saw them he smiled and waved at them. They came over to where he was sitting at the bar and talked. They invited him to join the but he said his mother had dinner waiting but he would join them for a pint before he went home. So the 3 sat at a window that did indeed look out over the lough and they chatted. Seamus was most interested in talking about music. <br> “So Mairead, what do you think of pop music. From what you tell me the stuff you play is not anything close to it. Do you like pop. Ya know bands like Coldplay, or Peter Gabriel or even U2. Stuff like that. What do you think about Britney Spears or that girl who lipsynched on Saturday Night Live.... what’s her name” he tapped his head trying to think of it<br> “Ashley Simpson” Mary piped in.<br> “Yeah her” Seamus said<br> “I don’t really have a problem with pop music per se.” Mairead started “It’s something some people like to listen to. I myself don’t enjoy a lot of it although U2 is one of my favorite bands and Peter Gabriel does have some interesting stuff. I mean if you make music and your intent is to make money then why not. If you are trying to make art then by all means. I mean I don’t expect people to go for the music of the Headwhiz Consort. It’s a little too challenging for most. I don’t think that Babakar expects it to rise to the top ten on the Billboard chart or anything and that’s OK. I mean we’ve been able to make a couple records so far and play some concerts in countries that I might never have gotten to. We get a good response at the shows because the folks coming are adventurous listeners so it all works out. Granted we don’t pack the Odeon Hammersmith but we can get a good audience at a small hall. <br> “What about all that Ashley Simpson lip synching stuff” Seamus continued in his queries.<br> “Well the only real problem is that she was being dishonest to the audience who thought it was live. Some folks don’t care if its pre-taped or not. I mean U2 did that some at the Superbowl show. I think that was more a logistics question than because they couldn’t do it live. Simpson on the other hand was appearing on a show that stressed in its title that it was a live show and clearly she wasn’t totally live. If you’re gonna do that be happy and proud of it. Don’t do it to hide that you suck. If you can’t play live don’t play live. I mean the Consort uses some programming on its recordings but if we can’t play the piece live we don’t. I mean Robert our programmer appears on stage with us because we do use some programs and he is operating out there live. But the programs are still programs. I don’t have a problem with that cuz we aren’t trying to act like its not happening that way. It’s actually a cool thing to have Robert sitting there in a section of the stage with his computers and sequencers surrounding him. It’s kind of like Rick Wakeman with all his keyboards except Robert can’t play music.”<br> “I like pure live music generally” Seamus added “there is just something about seeing people sitting together and bringing to life a tune. Ya know”<br> “It’s beautiful, indeed, don’t get me wrong I’ll take as much live music as is good to listen to. If things get too programmed live there isn’t a point in it being live I suppose. If the sequencer wigs out at a show we have plenty of music to put on a show with out any preprogramming.”<br> “You’re not getting defensive are ya Mairead?” Mary asked with a big smile on her face.<br> Mairead smiled back and just shook her head and said softly “No.”<br> “Oh Mairead, I meant no offense, I’m just inquisitive, to each their own, I didn’t mean live was superior. I guess I can come off sounding a bit condescending. I apologize” Seamus said stumbling through his words.<br> “None taken Seamus, I realize that. Whatever is what one likes is what is right to them. I’m not sure if there are many universals when it comes to personal taste.” Mairead said with a slight smile on her face.<br> “Ey, ya speak the truth... Guste bus or what ever that phrase.”<br> “Yes, I know the one yer talkin ‘bout. John often uses it, it’s latin, I think , for ‘there is no accounting for taste’ or something like that, eh?”<br> Then it was time for Seamus to head home for dinner with his mother. He couldn’t miss it or she wouldn’t speak to him for a 2 days. “Besides she’s a fantastic cook and ya have ta be crazy to not want to eat her dinners” Seamus said before tipping his hat to Mary and Mairead and turning towards the door. At that point their orders of fish came and their was a mutual silence as the two women devoured their orders. At one point the both looked up at each other as they had a piece of fish in there mouth, realizing that they probably represented starved savages they both burst out laughing send bits of white fish flying towards each other. When they settled down they clicked glasses and sipped their pints. <br> “Ya know Mar, all we’ve eaten today was that piece of toast this morning and the coffee”<br> “Tis true, we ought to feel like starving beasts, although we probably should refrain from sending any more bits of fish flying through the pubs air, ya know?” Mary answered. <br> After their dinner they sat for a bit staring out the big window that looked over the lough. Mary finally ordered a whiskey for both of them. Mairead looked at her as if she was serious.<br> “Just one and then we’ll head back. I want to turn in early tonight I think.”<br> “Ok” Mairead said” just one. I too want to get an early start on the ‘morrow. I think I’m going to Inishmore, if ya don’t need the car.” <br> Take it, take it. I’m going to keep reading and maybe go out on the lock. Seamus mentioned us possibly going fishing, not that I care about fishing, but he’s a nice guy and I have a boat and he doesn’t so I can enjoy being in the boat and he can catch some fish. Said he’d let us have whatever he catches for dinner tomorrow night. So it really looks like a win win situation.”<br> For a brief moment Mairead almost thought that Mary was attracted to Seamus. She was 54 and he was in his 30's. “What if she is...” Mairead thought to herself.” She probably needs to get some as much as the rest of us. Aging doesn’t necessarily mean ya don’t get urges and have needs. Good for her” and she smiled without Mary seeing her. .3-12-06</p>
<p>The next morning came early for Mairead who rose before the sun. She quietly went to the kitchen area and made her coffee and toasted some bread and nuked a couple veggie sausages with a piece of sharp cheddar on them. She sat in the kitchen area eating with the light out. There was just starting to be light coming up and Mairead didn’t want to rush anything. She felt very good. She was glad she didn’t drink more than the one whiskey Mary had ordered. Now she felt refreshed as she felt the coffee kick in. She finished her breakfast and grabbed her rucksack from her room. She had packed it the night before. She quietly went out the front door to the car and got in and started it and took the road to Galway city. When she got to Moycullen she turned right onto the road to Spiddle. She just had an urge to drive through her home town. She thought she might visit the old cemetery that was between the main road and the bay. She got to Spiddle and the sun was fully up and it was looking to be a glorious day. There was a lot of sun and big grand puffy clouds with a beautiful blue showing between them. It was cool but it felt good. She parked the car near off the road just west of town near the cemetery. Then she walked a little bit further west to the area she could access the entrance to the cemetery. The wind was not over powering but right there on the shore it was strong through her hair and she breathed in deeply. She loved the feel and scent of the air coming off the bay. It reminded her of her youth when she and her brother Michael lived here. She loved the sea and when she was a little girl she went to it almost daily. Her brother had been a fisherman who had died when his ship went down in a storm. This always was a small torment. Sometimes she felt like she was loving her brothers murderer. She knew that was crazy but there was a small tinge in her that did indeed feel that way. She knew Michael wouldn’t feel any ill will to the sea. He loved it probably more than she did. She was a land lubber and he rode it like a wild man. Even when the fish weren’t striking he would just go out to be out there. When it was calm he would spent the night on his boat just floating somewhere in Galway Bay. “A unique view of the sky” he would always say. He was right. She noticed a tear leaking out of her eye and wiped it off and toughened herself up. “Love ya Michael” she said she said softly. She turned around and headed back to the car. She knew she couldn’t stay there too long or her grief for her brother would start to overwhelm hers. She paused briefly and looked back out to the bay and then got in and fired up the car and headed west to the ferry. She got there parked and got her ticket for one. The boat took about a half hour to get out there. It was one of the early boats so there weren’t that many people on it. This trip was mainly to stock the pubs and restaurant on the Island. She got there and got out and headed out of town. She was ahead of the groups of people that were also getting off and they would tend to stay near the town but Mairead headed out. She knew approximately where she wanted to go. She would take the road out and then take a left down another road that would dead end and then she would start jumping the stone walls and walk through the fields. Periodically there would be cows and sheep along the way. They were harmless. Occassionally a cow might come near you out of curiosity but it was rare. She walked for a while and remembered the first time she had come out this way she hadn’t even realized that the cliffs were less than 50 yards away. The wind was blowing so intensely that day so all she could hear was the wind in her ears and not the sound of the sea over the edge of the cliffs. If she had been blind folded she would have walked right over the edge. The wind was so strong it was actually blowing water that was going over the cliffs back up on to the top of the cliffs. She had never seen anything like that. She eventually got to the cliffs and she sat down a little back from them and just stared out to the sea. It was beautiful. She had gotten so into the Consorts recent schedule of performing and recording that she had not taken the time to just sit and observe life and take it all in. Now she was. She wanted nothing else. If she could feel the way she felt at that moment for the rest of her life she would be fulfilled. She didn’t even try considering that it was an absurd proposition. She pulled her journal out of her ruck sack and sat writing. It turned out to be too windy to actually write so she put it back. She pulled out her little tape recorder and started speaking into it.<br> She talked of nothing in particular but just talked. It was like thinking only it was verbal and it was being recorded so it could be accessed in the future. She did this often. She would fill reams and reams of tape only to erase most of it. But every now and then something would come out that was worth writing down and keeping for good. She wasn’t a poet but she liked to write. She didn’t really write stories just little bits and pieces here and there. She and Babakar had come out here the last time he was in Ireland and she had played some of her talking tapes to him. He encouraged her to try and put it to music and make songs out of them. It had briefly piqued her interest but she eventually concluded that she didn’t want to write songs. She really didn’t even write that much music. She usually played someone else’s music which was ok with her. She loved to play and it didn’t matter who wrote it. It was always a challenge to make someone else’s music something you could love as much as if it were your own. She had always wanted to come to these cliffs and play. She thought it would be exhilarating. Her rational side figured the wind would be to strong and it would be too noisy to actually play anything good. As it was she would just sit and listen to the music that nature was making. The music of the wind and the birds and the cows and sheep and most of all the music of the sea. “Ladies and Gentlemen... Lets give it up for Galway Bay” she thought and chuckled to herself. After sitting for a long time she ate some of the food she had brought and uncorked a bottle of wine she had packed. It was a Syrah from Australia. She just drank out of the bottle. She wasn’t picky about wine. A friend of hers claimed she couldn’t stand California wines and yet when Mairead had served her some by accident, she claimed it an excellent wine, at which point Mairead didn’t tell her because she didn’t want to make her look stupid. Her friend was one of those people who had an opinion on everything and pretty much disregarded whatever others thought. When she thought of her that way she wondered what it was that made them friends. They had history and overtime her friend had evolved into this somewhat overbearing personality. Still she had a good heart they did have fun together. She drank about half the bottle and then got up and started to follow the coast along the top of the cliffs. The wind would gust and push her to her right as she walked. Eventually she got to Dun Aengus an old fort that was shaped like a semi circle and was built with the cliffs as one of its boundaries. This was where she would take in the sunset. She stayed there until the sunset and then she hired a carriage to drive her back to where she could catch the ferry. She had walked a good 8 miles today. Her feet were sore and she didn’t mind the expense for the horse drawn ride. She got back and took the next ferry and drove back to Oughterard in the dark. She got back and noticed a slight light coming from the main room in the cottage. She opened the door and there were Mary and Seamus butt naked in the middle of the room on a blanket going at it with a vengeance. Mairead couldn’t resist and just started laughing. Seamus looked over his shoulder, he had been doing Mary from behind, and immediately started to grab the blanket and cover himself. He was turning redder than a beat. Mary on the other hand laughed and told Mairead to get to her room and not to come out for and half hour which she did laughing all the way. She close her bedroom door and sat in the chair. She pulled out Paddy she kept in her room and poured a stiff one. This would knock her out and Mary and Seamus could do it all night in the living room.<br> The next morning Mairead was surprised that Seamus wasn’t around. <br> “It’s his mother. She wouldn’t approve.” Mary told Mairead<br> “Hmmm, ya like him eh?”<br> “Yes, Yes I do. He’s real nice. We had a great time on the boat today and then we came back and had a few drinks and well. You walked in on the rest.”<br> “That was funny” Mairead said ”Sorry, I couldn’t help laughing”<br> “I didn’t mind so much but you embarrassed the hell out of Seamus, he had a hard time getting it going, well just for a little bit. I wasn’t gonna let it stop me. We were fucking like old hands Mairead. It was a little odd cuz the first time is always so clumsy ya know.”<br> “I seem to remember something like that.” Mairead answered.<br> “Ya know May, you should take the car back to Dublin tomorrow by yourself. I know ya got a rehearsal and I don’t think I want to leave. D’like ta get a little more of Seamus. Wish he could spend the night, nothing like morning sex.”<br> “Quit bragging, Mary yer like a school girl, besides I’m not getting anything so don’t rub it in”<br> “I’m sorry May I feel a bit like a schoolgirl right now. A 50 something schoolgirl”<br> “With a 30 something hunk of man, not bad, I’m happy for you. Seamus is a great guy”<br> So the next day Mairead got up and drove back to Dublin and had her rehearsal. She was going to return the following weekend to get Mary but she had received and -email saying not to return until the end of the month. Seamus was going home then and she was going to stay in Oughterard until he left. She would visit him in Cork. They could have a proper relation there with out his mother in the picture. This was fine with Mairead. She had things to do in Dublin so while she would have liked to go west staying would at least be productive. Her rehearsals went well and the concert eventually was a success. After the concert she came back to her apartment and made some toast and poured herself a whiskey. She leaned on the kitchen counter and took a sip. Her cat Triplet came over and rubbed against Mairead’s leg and arched her back. <br> “This weekend was wonderful” she said as she picked Triplet up and rested her on the counter “ It really put me in the right frame of mind to play the music we had for the concert. It calmed my mind and put my soul at ease ya know?” Triplet looked and Mairead and her tail swooshed. Triplet understood.</p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580352014-09-22T12:00:00-12:002014-09-23T05:52:25-12:00Detained
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<p> <span style="color:#ffffff"> It was a sunny day in Cleveland, which at the time was kind of an anomaly. None the less it was still cold. Babakar Wade was walking up the street enjoying the cold as it was such a different thing from the country of Senegal. He was inclined to revel abundantly in the snow to the point where he was often looked at as odd by others who lived in Cleveland and for whom the cold was a scourge to be dealt with rather than celebrated. None the less Babakar did not care. He was in the United States, in Cleveland, to work on an album with his group <em>The Headwhiz Consort Moderne Internationale</em>. He had just walked up to the local coffee shop on the strip near the studio/offices of Mind Fry Enterprises and was carrying a cup of french roast with him and enjoying the sun and the cold. It was late November so it was not the brutal cold that often overwhelmed this rusting Midwestern city in February. He got to the offices of Mind Fry Enterprises and stopped briefly in front of the small house. He loved this place. It was his home away from home. If he stayed here too long he would, of course, miss his village, and the peanut fields and the Baobabs and of course his horse Amadou. None the less he truly loved the people here at Mind Fry. J. Kinslow the President and his secretary Lisa Sue Dannon were always very good to him and treated him almost like royalty. Then of course there was John his good friend for whom he owed all these other relationship too. Of course there were the cats. Originally there was Scum the venerable grey cat who was John’s first and long time friend. After that there was Mairead, named after the Consorts keyboard player, Spot the sickly one named for after a stray John had often fed when he lived in the Italian section of the city. She was sick when he took her and did not last long. Now there was little Erin, or Erin the Runt as was her official name. It was all a blessing Babakar felt to know these people and to be able to bring his ensemble here to make music.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ffffff">His musing was interrupted by a knocking on the front window of the house. It was Linda Sue motioning to Babakar to come inside. There seemed to be a tension in her eyes Babakar felt. So he put the top back on his cup of coffee and went up the front steps and into Mind Fry. His mood had quickly changed to concern.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">He entered and close the door behind him and asked "What is it Ms. Dannon, is there something wrong." With that J.Kinslow walked into the living room from the control room and said "Babakar, we just got news that both Robert and Samba have been detained in New York."</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"Why, is there a problem?" Babakar asked.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"Right now we don’t know much and the government isn’t being overly open about what is going on. Supposedly Samba was carrying something that the authorities felt could be a threat and they removed him. As far as we know they took Robert also because they were traveling together."</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"Guilt by association" Lisa Sue chipped in.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"There has to be a mistake. Samba is no terrorist. He is perhaps the most peaceful person I know. He generally has little interest in things political. He would never do anything like that. This is not right. Have you told John about it?" Babakar was clearly stressed. One rarely saw worry come into his brow but it was there now.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"No, I’m not sure where he is right now. He is suppose to be here soon. Needless to say we won’t be doing the sessions we had planned."</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">At that they heard footsteps coming up the front step. It was John he had gone up to the Lucky Diner for breakfast. In his usual loner fashion he didn’t invite any of the others to join him. It was understood that this was not intended as a snub just the way he was. When they told him John too was stunned by the news. He hadn’t known Samba as long as Babakar but he had known him longer than anyone else in the Consort. He had first met Samba on the same trip he had met Babakar. He was shocked.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"How can our government do that" He wondered. "I mean what could Samba possibly be carrying that would imply that he was a terrorist. And I say imply because it seems with this president you didn’t need real hard core evidence just ‘something’ to make them think you are a ‘bad guy’. A ‘Bad Guy’ what a freakin’ joke! This country has resorted to language of children to describe this alleged war on terror to the American Public... why are so many in this country so frickin’ clueless. " John was going from being stunned to being pissed off. He looked at Babakar and saw the worry in his face. He realized his getting angry wasn’t going to help and it might cause Babakar more stress. So he tried to tone it down. But he was livid. He had always been suspicious of this particular administration. They had lied to start a war and continued to propagate the lie. Anytime someone questioned them they denigrated the questioner with accusations of being unpatriotic, much like the Nazi Goering said could be done at the Nuernberg trials. This was what John was thinking but to ease the stress on Babakar he kept it to himself.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"Well right now there is nothing that we can do" J. Kinslow interjected trying to keep a sense of control on the situation. "Right now. I’m going to have Linda Sue keep in touch with the offices in Washington and New York that are handling this to keep as updated as possible. We’ll have to make our own coffee and possibly our own lunch. I can’t imagine this lasting real long. I mean we know Samba is not a terrorist. It has to be just a mix up. It will get straightened out and Samba and Robert will be in Cleveland soon." and as he turned to the coat rack to grab his coat he mumbled "I hope".</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"Well maybe we should just keep working as we can. There is plenty to be done" Babakar suggested.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"Yeah, let me fire up the studio and we can see what we have to work on." John said and went off into the control room. Lisa Sue went into the office to make some calls. This left Babakar and J. Kinslow alone in the living room.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"Don’t worry Babakar, we will do everything in our power to see to it that both of them are returned safe. Don’t worry. I suspect it is just a mix up. The absurdity of it makes me think it will all blow over, although my dark side can’t help but think that something is terribly wrong."</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"This is true. It is hard to imagine that this could happen in this country. It would be a genuine refutation of all the ideals this country stands for. I hope that it is only a mix up. If it is just an error that is a forgivable thing everyone makes mistakes... if it is not..." Babakar said with his voice trailing off.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"Don’t worry Babakar"</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"Indeed, it is not productive, but it is also difficult not to." Babakar said and the 2 men shook hands and J. Kinslow stepped out the door into the cold Cleveland sunshine. Babakar closed the door and paused for a moment with his hand on the door knob. "Samba and Robert a Jewish man and a Muslim man traveling together. How can that be wrong. It ought to be a symbol to the world of what is right" he said softly to himself. Then he felt something against his legs. He looked down and it was Erin the cat. He picked her up and held her and gave her a big hug and then she pushed away from him having gotten what she wished . John then appeared at the door and said. Studio’s fired up Babakar.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">So the two of them spent the next 4 hours working n the studio. Around 3 in the afternoon they broke for lunch. John made curry pancake sandwiches for the 3 of them. It was one of his specialties. He would take pancakes (he uses a mix) and add some curry powder to the mix. Then you use the pancakes as bread and add lettuce and tomato and green peppers and onions and some cheese melted in it with a touch of ground pepper. He served this with a glass of Pinot Noir and he also cut up some apples into segments. It was an excellent meal and made them feel a little better. Still the whole time John and Babakar had been working it the studio their conversation was of Robert and Samba.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">It was about then that Linda Sue came in with a progress report. Samba and Robert have been taken away from the airport to be questioned. That was all the government was letting out. This was not good. When J. Kinslow returned Lisa Sue updated him. He was starting to get angry. He had hoped it was just a mix up but now he felt something was wrong. They should have been able to figure out that he was just a musician coming to the country. He had all his paper work in line, work permits, visas, passports etc. But they had now removed them to another location and were not telling anything else.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">"Linda Sue book me a flight to New York as soon as is possible and pack me a bag please" J. Kinslow said as he started to slowly pace the main room. Now it was J. Kinslow who was having a difficult time withholding his anger. "We need someone there on the ground to deal with this. Seeing as I can’t play an instrument I’ll go. Oh, Lisa Sue let Barney know I’m going to be in town maybe I can check out the <em>‘Shards</em> while I’m there. Barney was Barney Cole the Consorts lead guitarist. He had his own jazz/rock band in New York "The Swingin’ Shards"</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">Through it all Babakar remained calm but worried. He knew all that could be done was getting done but they were at a disadvantage that they were in Cleveland and his band mates were being dealt with in New York. He also knew that the best thing to do right now was immerse themselves in the studio and try and get as much done as they could. If things were to go well they could have a bunch of tracks ready and waiting for Samba and Robert to work their magic on. Robert was a programmer extraordinaire and Samba was the Consorts percussionist. They worked well together. Often Samba would lay percussion tracks and then Robert could sample them and then they could be used on one of the compositions the Consort was working on.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">Babakar went to the front door and pulled up the Venetian blinds to look outside. It looked cold out and it there were very light flurries coming down. The sun from earlier was now hidden behind the grey clouds that had blown in.</span></p>
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<p><span style="color:#ffffff">May 12, 2007</span></p>
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Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580342013-04-14T12:00:00-12:002013-04-15T04:41:02-12:00Travels With Babakar- The Gulf Of Mexico
<p>Travels With Babakar
</p><p>The Gulf Of Mexico</p>
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</p><p>Day 1</p>
<p>Again I set off with my friend Babakar. The Headwhiz album is getting close to completion but once again a trip I had planned came up so this time I just went ahead and suggested Babakar go with me. As we’d had a blast last September I figured we might try it again. This time we were heading to the Gulf of Mexico on the Alabama coast. My Dad and step mom used to winter there and I had always loved the atmosphere. Very relaxed so when the city forced us to take furlough days I figured a spring vacation was in store. Its funny because if I had thought of it sooner I could have gone somewhere that Babakar might have wanted to go. Maybe next trip if he is still in the country. Again we had everything packed and ready to go the morning of the first day. Babakar stayed at the Mind Fry compound the night before. We wanted to get up early and hit the road and put a lot of asphalt underneath us the first day.</p>
<p>The drive the first day was long. Almost 8 hours and I did it all. Babakar offered to drive I declined. He mainly rode a horse when he had to get somewhere so I really didn’t want him driving. In fact because it was a rental car I was the only one <em>allowed </em>to drive. I had set this up this way intentionally. We stopped a lot. I think we only skipped one rest stop opportunity all day. We listened to a lot of music on the way down. Kentucky is a very pretty state to drive through. Lots of rocky hills and rolling roads. It was great because this time we’d gotten a rental car with a direct line to Lisa Sue back at the Mind Fry compound and she could tell us directly when to get on this road and what not so we didn’t even need a map, we had one, but we didn’t need one. Just good ol’ Linda Sue. Of course this meant not staying on the road all day because she needs her time off. She said she had to be at the office anyway getting the design together for the Headwhiz album and most of the trip, the first day, involved just I-71South. It was fun. Of course it was weird because she would type the information in and a voice came out all computer sounding, there was none of the normal gentle tones of her sweet sounding voice. As with the Badlands we started the trip with a Dylan compilation. Not sure why he sounds so good at the beginning of an adventure like this but he does. Amongst other artists were Billy Bragg, Deb Talon, Zakir Hussein and more. It was fun just driving along listening. The car had cruise control so that was cool.</p>
<p>Eventually we got to the Drury Inn in Bowling Green Kentucky and as we were approaching the exit for it we were being passed by about a dozen Corvettes (We had just passed the Corvette Museum a couple miles back.). They all pulled off and headed to the Drury so when we get to the inn there is a line 12 deep. We decided not to check in and we would go in search of some good small batch Kentucky bourbon. We find a store. It has a nice array of bourbons. I ask the guy for recommendations and he says with his Kentucky drawl and the vocal inflection of the voice behind the Wizard of Oz that about 4 he would recommend. I grab one and thank him. He hardly acknowledges me (the bastard...). I also buy a bottle opener as we have cold beer in the trunk. That is what I want more than anything is a cold beer after all this driving. The whiskey would be for later. So we drive back to the Drury and the line is gone and a young lady named China checks me in. She seems nice enough although I sense that she is only nice in the professional sense. Nice because its good for her job and the business. I didn’t necessarily sense she would be nice if you knew her in some other context. Babakar said he didn’t see that in her and asked me how I came to that conclusion. "I just know Babakar, I just know..." was all I could tell him. He would accept that although he still didn’t agree.</p>
<p>We got to the room and went about setting up shop. I plugged the computer in and he grabbed the ice bucket. Even though he drank way less than I did he always grabbed the ice bucket immediately. What a guy! I pulled out my guitar, we again both brought axes, strummed it gently and then put it down. At this point Babakar came in with the ice. I offered him a Blonde, that was the beer, an organic California Blonde Ale, and he accepted. I opened his first and then one for myself. The first pull on it was a long slow one and I listened to the sound of the beer being swallowed through he vibrations in my skull. It <em>sounded</em> like it was a quenching experience and indeed it was. We both smiled at each other understanding just how good that first taste was for each other, especially after the long drive.</p>
<p>"John, there is a slight problem I think with your plans to swim." Babakar said.</p>
<p>"What’s that?"</p>
<p>"Well I just walked by the pool and it is filled with lot’s of loud screaming children. It seems there is some type of boys softball tournament and many are staying here. "</p>
<p>"Hmmm.. Oh well, you’re right though I don’t want to swim now. We could jam quietly if you want.</p>
<p>"Actually I might read for a bit, feel free to play though I won’t be bothered."</p>
<p>But I didn’t play I sat at the computer for a while and then wrote in my journal. After a bit we both had a nip of the small batch and then went out in search of some food. The room had a nuke and a fridge. We walked up the road where there was a Kroger. We ended up getting some nuts and fruit, cheese, wine and some boneless teriyaki wings, those were for me (Babakar was wise in not eating then...). We returned to the room and the pool was still teeming with those vermin. Too bad it was just too crowded. Now if had been nubile babes in that concentration I would have indeed jumped in. Heh heh heh...</p>
<p>After we ate we had a little more whiskey when I noticed it was a 90 proof. "Better watch this stuff. I had done that one night with a single malt and the next day I noticed it was 94 proof and knew why my head fell like it was filled with dried cotton.</p>
<p>Day 2</p>
<p>We took our time leaving Bowling Green because the drive to Birmingham was only 4 hours. Babakar had gotten up early and gone for a walk while I slept off some of the small batch. By the time he got back it was time for breakfast and we went down to it together. There was a group of men older than either of us. From their loud talk it seemed they were here to golf. Alabama is known for the Robert Trent Jones Golf Trail which I believe is a series of professional level golf courses (though we were in Kentucky... I assumed they were heading that way. They may have well been playing courses in Kentucky who knows???) . Not being a golfer I’m not up on that much. I leaned forward to Babakar and said quietly "You think by the volume that they were the only folks in the breakfast room or possibly the world" A small smile crossed Babakar’s face. Later when we were back at the room I asked him what he thought of them. He declined to comment merely saying he didn’t know them well enough.</p>
<p>"But you have to admit they were loud?"</p>
<p>"Yes this is true."</p>
<p>"I mean do you think the lady and her small boy sitting over I the corner really needed to hear what these guys were saying? It’s just their attitude. You get the impression that everyone around them gives them their way and so they just assume that everyone else, who doesn’t know them, will too. It’s arrogant."</p>
<p>"Perhaps."</p>
<p>So I worked on a story for a bit while Babakar played softly on his guitar. It was a nice combination. He was working on something I could tell. He kept playing one part over and over and then trying to make a change. Every now and then I could tell he had made a little advance in the composition because something slight would change and then as he kept playing it he always played it that way. It was interesting to observe. I wondered if I did the same thing when I worked on music. I probably did.</p>
<p>We finally left around 10:30. Once again I drove and Lisa Sue guided us with her electronic voice. The drive was uneventful. Again we stopped often to stretch and we even remembered to steal some plastic ware from the Drury so we could make peanut butter sandwiches. We got to Birmingham and went right to the Wingate hotel. We got our stuff in and set up and then it was off to Vulcan Park. This is where the largest Cast Iron statue in the world is. It’s the god Vulcan, god of fire and forge, and he stands on this great big tower that is about 6 stories high. We went to the top via the stairs. There is an elevator but the stairs were more intriguing and healthier too. I took photos as we ascended and then when we got to the top it was a little scary. There were girder type things that held the meshed surface you walked on. I tried to make sure where I stepped was over a girder. Babakar seemed less fearful of the heights. We stayed up there and there were some fine views of downtown Birmingham. Then we went down and went into the Vulcan museum. There was a section that included historical bits of the city to it wasn’t just about Vulcan, although there was a good bit of that. The section on the Civil Rights era in the city was very intriguing. After seeing that we decided to head down to that section of the city where the Civil Rights Institute was. Unfortunately it was closed by the time we got there. Missed it by minutes. So we hung out and went through a Freedom Walk around the Kelly Ingram Park. There were water cannons and some other sculpture. There was one metal sculpture of the infamous dogs that were used. As you walked through it 3 of them were lunging out at you. It was eerie. At one point a women came up asking for money but she was indecipherable. I kept asking what she was saying but the words were jumbled. She had no teeth and a crazy look in her eye. Finally Babakar said "She wants some money and took a 5 out and handed it to her. She smiled and sat back down on the bench she’d been sitting when we came by. Babakar was very quiet as we read the different placards and stood before the statue of Martin Luther King Jr. It was a moving experience. All the things that have gone on and all the hatred and pain that has been caused simply because of the color of peoples skin. It is stunning. The hate that could be caused by the ignorance of prejudice. It is stunning. Even today it still exists. I do get the impression that the kids today are less concerned with that type of thing. This is good. Perhaps in time prejudice will disappear. Eventually we left but we stayed there a long time. At one point Babakar just sat on a bench while I continued to read some of the placards and take a few pictures.</p>
<p>We finally left there and headed to get dinner. We passed by some trendy places but finally settled on a Carrabba’s. I’d only eaten at a Carrabba’s one other time when Dan and I were stuck in the Fort Meyers airport because the flight attendant had popped the escape ramp and we had to spend an extra night there trapped in a shopping area with no car. But that’s a story for another day. It was good. We sat at the bar and talked to the lovely bartender. She hardly seemed old enough to be serving alcohol. Thin with dark hair and eyes. A very pretty smile. "Babakar, I’m having impure thoughts" I whispered to him. He smiled and said nothing. The dinner was good enough but the wine was very good. We each drank a couple glasses of the Ravenswood. Then we went to the room and by that time it was going on 10 so we had a night cap and then crashed.</p>
<p>Day 3</p>
<p>We got out of Birmingham around 10. We could have waited but we both did what we needed to do in the morning in terms of reading, writing, playing etc and there was no reason not to leave. Today we would hit the gulf coast. This was the big enchilada. The reason for the trip. Actually the reason for the trip was just to get away. I could have gone almost anywhere at this point. Not going away wasn’t acceptable and this was something I had wanted to do for a while. Just come hang out on the Gulf. So we drove south and the drive was uneventful. As we moved farther south the landscape was being taken over by a lot of pine. There was still the bright green of the deciduous trees in the spring but the pine and evergreen were starting to dominate the landscape. I-65 is at this point a relatively boring route. Long ribbon of highway. As always we stopped a lot. South of Montgomery we even made peanut butter sandwiches and drank a cold beer. I know you aren’t suppose to but we wanted to and it tasted so dang good. Especially when we first stepped out of the car and the air was noticeably warmer and more humid. We were in <em>the south</em>. It felt like it for the first time on the trip. We had heard the southern drawl as far north as Kentucky but this was the first time it was warm... warm and humid. We sat by one of the picnic tables with our beers poured into our travel mugs for covertness sake and just chilled sipping the frothy goodness of this organic blonde ale. We also had Bass ale but today we wanted the organic.</p>
<p>So we finished our beers and continued on our way. Things went well and soon we were getting off I-65 and heading south on the Gulf Shores Parkway. (Alabama route 59, I think). Boy did that sound good. We dropped the windows all the way cranked up some music (Midnight Oil- <em>Diesel and Dust </em>if I recall correctly) and were getting there. The sense of the oceans nearness was palpable. Then there was trouble. Linda Sue’s directions were erroneous. We knew when we set off there could be problems because the Loop road the hotel was on wasn’t yet registered into the data base Lisa Sue was using to guide us. She told us to take a right on Collegiate Avenue but there was no road. Then she says to take another right which takes us right in front of the Orange Beach Police Headquarters, us with our beer stained travel mugs. Finally I told Linda Sue to shut up and quit saying anything. ( I realized later that I had been rude.) I used my human instinct and pretty soon we were on Perdido Beach Blvd. I stopped at a light and notice the Winn Dixie that we had used when visiting my father and step mother. Lo and behold the Fairfield is right next to it. I take a right and tell Lisa Sue that we are here and we both thank her for her constant guidance. We would contact her for the return trip. I went in and checked into the room and Babakar and I started carrying things up. The room had a fridge which I could have paid extra for so that was good because we didn’t. I would need to get more beer... we only had 3 left. It was about 3:30. We sat and rested for a bit. We both opened a beer. Babakar had the last Bass while I drank organic. He played guitar gently as we enjoyed our beers. My hands were tired from grabbing the wheel so I didn’t feel like playing. I decided to take a walk to the beach. Babakar said he would stay there for a bit. I grabbed a coffee from the lobby and took it with me. There was an access boardwalk just across the road from the Winn Dixie shopping center. I walked and as I got to the end of the walk the beach opened up and there it was <em>the Gulf Of Mexico</em>. I had arrived. It was gorgeous. It was rather calm. The waves hitting the shore were very small . There were a lot of plovers and other fast moving long beaked type birds running amongst the water that was coming inn. I just stood and took it all in. Then I started to walk down the beach. There was a great Blue Heron standing on the beach about 30 feet ahead. Now the Herons in Cleveland take off well before you get that close but this one just stood there. As I was within 10 feet of him his mouth opened and he wiggled his tongue at my (much like the Canadian Geese will do up north), but I kept walking and he didn’t budge. I should have attacked him and snapped his neck just to teach to never trust a human, but I didn’t. After walking a ways down the beach I decided to turn back. About ½ way I ran into Babakar. We stopped and chatted for a bit.</p>
<p>"I thought I might find you." He said and he handed me my travel mug. It had cold beer in it.</p>
<p>"Dude, you rock. Didn’t you want the last one?"</p>
<p>"No I’ve had enough beer for the time being. We can get more at the Winn Dixie. I’m going to keep walking for a bit. I will see you back at the room John." he said and of course that meant he felt like walking alone. I can’t say I blame him although at this point I certainly would have joined him.</p>
<p>After he returned we went and got dinner. We were tired at that point and it was late so we settled for what was within walking distance. Hazels. Don’t eat at Hazel’s. It wasn’t very good. I had the shrimp etouffle and while I ate it, it gave me no pleasure. Babakar went for the seafood buffet. He said it was alright. Now Babakar doesn’t like to say bad stuff about people or things so a rating of ‘ok’ from him is tantamount to "this is crap" from me. So we went back to the room and had a night cap. At that point I fell asleep while watching tv. Babakar had gone out to get some of the night air into his system. I’m not sure when he got back. But he turned the TV off and the next thing I knew I was awake and it was still dark out.</p>
<p>Day 4</p>
<p>I looked out the window and sunrise didn’t seem imminent. I wanted to get up and see if I could catch the sunrise on camera. I got up and went to the lobby and poured a couple cups of coffee, they had that there 24 hours. It was old but it had caffeine in it and it meant not having to risk waking Babakar making that tolerable but not preferred ‘pod’ coffee in the room. I drank 3 cups while sitting in the lobby looking out on the lake that was behind the hotel. Feeling energized I walked over to the beach. The same heron was standing in the same spot. I am assuming it was the same although I really have no idea. I walked out to the area where I would be as close to the water as I could without risking getting my pants wet (I’d worn long pants because it was cool this early.) I looked to the east and there it was. SOL! Rising just above the horizon so I was seeing a good 85% of the disk the rest was blocked by the clouds. It was kind of overcast but right at the horizon there were no clouds so this wonderful glowing orange disk would appear and then disappear into the clouds it was rising behind. It was a beautiful site. It was a powerful sight. I snapped off several pictures and then concentrated on the small plovers that were zipping here and there sticking their long beaks into the ground like a hypodermic and then zipping off to do the same somewhere else. They were awesome to watch. Then I noticed out in the water a dolphin. I had never seen dolphins live in the wild and here one just jumped out of the water. I grabbed my camera and set it on video and started to watch and shoot. There were many of them. At one point I could distinguish at least 8 different dolphins. For the most part I would just see their dorsal fins roll out of the water and then disappear. None dove like the one that caught my attention. But still it was very cool to see. I stood there a long time watching them when I felt a presence. Sure enough I turn and its Babakar.</p>
<p>"Dude, you’re up."</p>
<p>"Yes once the sun started to lighten things up I usually wake up. Here." and he handed me a cup of coffee."</p>
<p>"Dude you rock, thanks. Look there are dolphins out there. You can see their fins roll out of the water every now and then." I said.</p>
<p>"Over there, 2 side by side, they are in love." Babakar speculated.</p>
<p>Then one of the dolphins started to jump out of the water and move towards the shore where we were standing. I was afraid he was going to beach himself when suddenly I heard Babakar say</p>
<p>"Oh my goodness, my friend, my friend." And the dolphin came close to the shore and projected out of the water like Flipper used to do on the tv show. That was when Babakar ripped off his shirt and went running into the water.</p>
<p>"Babakar, what are you doing?" I yelled but he was laughing and then diving into the water. He grabbed the dolphin and they rolled around a bit in the water with the dolphin nudging him and pushing him out of the water. I heard Babakar let out a release of laughter as his body was flipped up out of the water only to go splashing into it again. Finally after minutes of this interaction between he and the dolphin he stood up with the water about waste high and yelled to me.</p>
<p>"Don’t be alarmed. We know each other. I met him years ago on the Senegal River when I was down in Banjul. I am just surprised to see him on this side of the Atlantic." Then he dove back in and amidst the splashing I could have sworn I heard Babakar making dolphin sounds. It was like he could talk to the dolphin. He motioned for me to dive in. I was feeling rather odd but I peeled my shirt off and dove in, long pants and all. I swam out to where the 2 were in the water.</p>
<p>"John, meet my dolphin friend and then he said to the dolphin "this is my good friend John. We make music together. The dolphin nodded his head up and down like he understood."</p>
<p>"So Babakar, while nothing about you surprises me any more but, were you actually talking ‘dolphin’ to him?"</p>
<p>"Yes. He also understands English but cannot speak it. To be honest I am not very fluent in his language either. A lot of what I was saying was the equivalent of whoopee, yahoo and what not. We are just happy to see each other again."</p>
<p>"Ok then..., that is pretty fascinating, ya know?"</p>
<p>"I know John, do not be alarmed or freaked out."</p>
<p>So we stayed in the water for a while and eventually I was getting cold. I decide to leave and let them to get reacquainted. I returned to the hotel and showered and shaved and then fell asleep for bit.</p>
<p>When I woke Babakar still hadn’t come back so I called up a bike rental place and got a bike. They would deliver it to the hotel. I knew Babakar wasn’t interested in riding so I didn’t bother getting one for him. When the bike arrived I went to the front of the hotel to meet the guy delivering it and Babakar was walking in. "You weren’t interested in joining me were you?" I asked just to make sure.</p>
<p>"No I think I’m going to go write for a bit." He said and smiled. Despite the smile there was something sad in his demeanor. So it seemed to me. It briefly concerned me but being the self centered bastard that I am I pushed that thought aside and turned to thinking about my bike ride. I made the arrangements with the bike guy to pick the bike up the next day after 3. It turns out the bike guy went to school at Kent State. He was telling me how they used to drive up from Kent to Cleveland and watch Jim Brown play football for the Browns. Small world. Then I got on and took off riding. It was a big 3 speed with big round tires with big whitewalls on them and it had coaster brakes. This was probably the most difficult thing to get used to. I was used hand brakes normally so every time, initially anyway, I quit pedaling I would actually start braking. This was something I eventually figured out. I started off along Perdido Beach Blvd. for a while and then saw the entrance to Gulf Shores State Park and turned in there. It was wonderful. The clouds were a bit overcast so I wasn’t even sweating all that much. It was the south but it was early enough in the year where the humidity hadn’t kicked up too much yet plus there was the ocean breeze. I had a map of the parks bike paths the bike guy had given me. And I set out to ride all of them. It was magnificent. Here I was riding through this great park with the Spanish moss hanging from the trees and the different plants and birds that were here as opposed to what I was used to in the midwest. I have to say seeing this big old tree with gobs and gobs of Spanish moss just dripping off it was a sight. I had to stop and just stare for a bit. One other thing I saw, and I saw it a little too close for my comfort, was a gator. I was riding along and 2 women on bikes approached me and as they passed one said "There’s a Gator on the path by the bridge." I said "Thanks" and when they were out of sight I hit the brakes I progressed slowly. As I approached the bridge I didn’t see a gator on the path, which would have been obvious I was thinking. So it must have moved off. Now my heart <em>really </em>started to pound. I wasn’t sure if gator’s blended in so they could come out of no where and eat me or if they stood out so you couldn’t miss them. I wasn’t sure how leery you should be of them. Was it like a skunk in Ohio where you just let it know you are there and don’t startle it and it won’t bother you or do you avoid them at all costs. I inched forward getting ready to shove the bike at the gator and take off running. Then as I was almost to the bridge I saw it. It was off to the left down below the bridges railing. It probably couldn’t get me quickly from there so I got on the bike and rode across the bridge. As I did this it opened its mouth and made a gator noise. I kept pedaling looking over my shoulder. I stopped once I was out of the gator area and looked a the map. The path looked like it went out to Perdido Beach Blvd. So I figured I would do that and then ride out of the park and then back to the inn. But the map was wrong. The path ended and it became so sandy that I couldn’t ride through it. I had to go back, which meant going past the gator again. I’d had enough of having the crap scared out of me and really didn’t want to do this but I had no choice. So I started to pedal back with much trepidation. Then after about 5 minutes luck smiled upon me. The bike path crossed a service road that took you out to Perdido Beach Blvd. So, whether I was suppose to ride there or not I was doing it. I got out to Perdido Beach Blvd. And headed east towards the inn. When I got back Babakar was napping. I sat and wrote in my journal when I noticed a gator sunning himself on the shore of the lake behind the inn. I grabbed my camera and ran down the steps, jumped on the bike and rode over there to get some pictures. From this distance I didn’t feel it was dangerous. By the time I got over there the gator was back in the water but I still got a few shots of his head moving through he water. Just like the Tarzan movies or something. When I got back on the bike it felt good riding so I headed east on the boulevard towards the Perdido Bay bridge and rode across that. I stopped on top of the bridge and just gazed north at the bay. It was a great view from up there, except they had chain link fencing up, probably to dissuade suicidal types from jumping. Then I kept riding and soon was coasting at a fast pace on the down side of the bridge. I rode this way for about a half an hour. I had a back wind which meant riding into it on the way back. I didn’t care. I felt magnificent. Eventually I turned around and faced the head wind and just took my time. When I got back I took the bike up into the room as I was pretty sure I wouldn’t use it again today. Babakar was up when I came in with a guitar in his hand.</p>
<p>"It was nice meeting your friend Babakar. Kind of amazing ya know." I said. The whole time I had been riding this was something that was on my mind.</p>
<p>"It is, I am lucky he trusts me."</p>
<p>"He didn’t care that you told me." I asked.</p>
<p>"No he trust me, he knows I wouldn’t tell the wrong people."</p>
<p>I smiled, I was glad I fell in the category of trustworthy folks and said "Ya up for some seafood?"</p>
<p>"Yes. I have much hunger." he said. He seemed happier than when he’d come back from the beach earlier.</p>
<p>"Well lets get some place better than Hazels. That sucked." I said.</p>
<p>After a cocktail in the room of the small batch we decided on a place call Big Fish based on the opinion of the women at the front desk. It was a short drive from the inn up on Canal Rd. It had outside seating which we opted for. We were seated by a lovely women with curly blonde locks and what I thought was a German accent. We both had the catch of the day which was Halibut. I had mine blackened while Babakar had his grilled. It was excellent. We split a bottle of Pinot Noir and had a long enjoyable meal. Of course the conversation turned to his dolphin friend who I still was amazed by. He told me much. It turns out he met him originally while vacationing n Banjul the capitol of The Gambia. He was staying at a hotel right on the Senegal River and while swimming the dolphin approached. He understood English. He had acquired that ability when he was a captive dolphin. He managed to escape and was always very fearful of humans. He held no malice towards them because he felt they were not as bright and didn’t feel you couldn’t hate someone because they are stupid. But he sensed something was different about Babakar and approached him. As Babakar spoke to him he noticed that the dolphin seemed to genuinely understand him. He started to ask him questions of a yes/no type and the dolphin would nod yes or shake his head from side to side. Eventually he had taught Babakar some rudimentary dolphin. They have been friends ever since. He often goes to Banjul and runs into him. He has even run into him at the mouth of the Senegal river up near Saint Louis in the north of Senegal. He said he never knew that he traveled this far from the African coast. He said he was with a female companion and some other friends of his. They were not real happy that he had been so blatant in approaching me. But they also knew that along this coast the people on the land are pretty passive and non-threatening. By the time we finished the last drop of wine it was well after sunset so we returned to the hotel and had a night cap and then crashed. It had been a long wonderful and amazing day. I would not have a day like this again for some time, <em>if ever</em>, I was thinking as I drifted off to sleep.</p>
<p>Day 5</p>
<p>So of course the next morning I woke first. I went to the lobby and got a coffee and went on line to check out rooms for the return trip. I figured I might as well do this. Babakar would be up soon enough. I found rooms in Decatur, Alabama and then the last night would be in Cincinnati. As I printed out the itinerary Babakar appeared. We went over to the breakfast area and got our food and a table near the window.</p>
<p>"Do you think we will see him again today?" I asked as we sat down to some coffee and bagels.</p>
<p>"He was with a lady friend so perhaps not. It would be good to see him but if not I will see him back in Senegal at some point. We went to the shore and were wandering along the beach with the waves being very calm and the sea not quite glass but surprisingly still. It was about as still as I had ever seen it in my few experiences here on the gulf. I, of course, was wading ever deeper. Soon my shorts were completely soaked. The water was still kind of cold so I wasn’t really planning on doing a full immersion. Then I noticed a look come across Babakar’s face as he watched me from the shore. It was fear and horror. I felt something bump awkwardly and it spun me around because it was big. That was when I saw the dorsal fin. SHARK! It turned and came back at me. I managed to move out of the way although part of my arm was bleeding so a tooth or something must have slashed me. At this point I felt no pain plus it had pushed me into deeper water. The fear was almost paralyzing but I knew I’d be doomed if this path were taken. It was about then that Babakar came running into the water. It’s the first time I’d ever seen him swim. He cut gracefully through the water and soon was approaching shark. He was also making some of the dolphin noises from the previous day. The shark was about to strike me when Babakar hit it on the nose and then simultaneously hit both its eyes. He stunned it briefly and this gave us an opportunity to move towards the shore. At that moment suddenly the water was alive. All around us were dolphins and they were all attacking the shark. The shark knew he was outnumbered and made a fast getaway. Babakar’s dolphin friend came over and his nose rose out of the water. I thanked him and he nodded his head up and down. Then Babakar came over and said "This one (pointing to his friend) taught me the maneuver hitting the nose and the eyes.. Without that we both might be dead." I was stunned in silence. This was all so much to take in. Here I am alive because of some dolphins and what one of those dolphins taught my friend. With that Babakar’s dolphin friend rose out of the water and turned towards his lady friend who had also helped deal with the shark. They swam off quickly joining the rest who swimming away. Babakar and I just looked at each other briefly. I shook my head and smiled. Nothing else could be said. At this point there was a fair group of people who saw everything. I turned to them and not knowing what else to do I raised my hand and waved. At that the two of us walked away down the boardwalk that led to the crosswalk on the way back to the inn. It was getting near eleven a.m. I could only lay down at that point. The slash on my upper arm was nothing that needed tending. I was lucky. Eventually someone from the ADNR or something like that, perhaps they were with the State Park system, anyway they came and asked us a bunch of questions. It seems no one noticed that we were actually communicating with the dolphins. Apparently no one heard Babakar speaking dolphin, or perhaps they just assumed dolphin sounds come from dolphins. Either way they never asked us about any of that. They just wanted a run down of what happened. We conveniently left out the part about being able to communicate with dolphins. It had been a very strange 2 days. Now I sat up after napping and Babakar was gone. "Probably went for a walk." I thought. Indeed I sat playing the guitar for a bit when he came in. He seemed depressed. "What’s up dude, you don’t seem so bright in the eyes?"</p>
<p>"Oh perhaps its just been a long day. This is vacation remember we aren’t supposed to have to deal with this stress."</p>
<p>"Yeah, who’d a thunk a shark would come here?"</p>
<p>"Seeing my friend also hit me." Babakar said.</p>
<p>"Yeah..." I said.</p>
<p>"Oh it’s been so long since I’ve been home. He reminded me of home and then I thought of Amadou and all my friends. Perhaps I am homesick."</p>
<p>"If you need to we could put the album on hold so you could go back to Senegal." I suggested. I don’t think I’d ever seen Babakar longing for home so much.</p>
<p>No, we need to do this. <em>I </em>need to do this. The members have worked so hard getting these pieces together I must get this done. To go home with it unfinished would taint my return and leave a bitter taste in my mouth. We will finish it."</p>
<p>"It’s a good album Babakar. Those mixes we brought with us were cool. It’s not done but it is getting close.</p>
<p>"This is true. It is getting close."</p>
<p>"Will you see you dolphin friend again, What’s his name anyway, you never told me that."</p>
<p>"They don’t go by names. They just are."</p>
<p>"How do they call each other like ‘yo Babakar, wanna beer or fish or whatever" I asked.</p>
<p>"I’m not sure. But their intelligence level allows them to perceive more out of an audible communicative sound than people are able to. That’s the best explanation I can give. I’ve not mastered their language by any means."</p>
<p>"You speak Dolphin, my pal here speaks Dolphin."</p>
<p>"Are you hungry, John?" he asked me.</p>
<p>"I could eat. I think my nerves and head have sufficiently calmed down that food would be a good thing. Some booze would be cool too."</p>
<p>"A glass of Malbec would be good if it were available." So after some discussion we went back to Big Fish. It had been so good why risk another Hazels. We were again seated by the lovely blonde women with the German accent. I would have married her right then and there just because she was so cute and I am a dirty old man. I ordered scallops while Babakar had the catch of the day which was grouper. His looked better than mine and mine was<em> really</em> good. Just not enough. It looked nice on the plate though so that’s important. I started with a Manhattan while Babakar got his Malbec. We toasted his dolphin friend sipped our drinks. When the meal was brought I asked for a glass of Pinot Noir and we ate in silence for a bit. Then Babakar spoke</p>
<p>"I’m sorry John for laying my problems on you. It’s not fair to you."</p>
<p>"Dude, it’s what friends are for, and you know that. Believe me when my heads a mess if you’re around you are going to hear about it." With that Babakar smiled as he looked down at his fish and continued eating</p>
<p>Day 6</p>
<p>So we got up early and tried to get off rather quickly. We’d been taking our time for the most part after the first day. Now that didn’t keep us from walking down the beach one more time. We both had woken before the sunrise so we went out just as it was coming up. It was much like the first morning except there were no clouds this time, but it was big and red and orange and fiery. The ocean was again calm. Just a soft slapping of the shore by the waves. We walked in silence. I could tell Babakar was hoping to see his friend one more time. It wasn’t to be. They had left the area he was fairly certain. All the commotion probably made his friends concerned that someone might come to capture and study them. Just to make sure he went out and slapped the water surface with the flat of his hand several times. Nothing. So we decided to go back to the inn and pack and get going. We were both tired and I was starting to feel a certain longing for home too. My cat Erin, while being well tended to, misses me and I her. I know that seems odd, a cat and a 50 year old fart being pals. But its true. Anyway we drove to Decatur, Alabama. The drive was pretty uneventful. We stopped often just to stretch or use the restrooms. We got to the La Quinta in Decatur and checked in. It was the first kind of icky hotel we stayed in. I’ve been in worse (</p>
<p>"Indeed, I still think it was you they loved"</p>
<p>"No I think it was you with your rock star long hair. You are an obvious heart throb John."</p>
<p>"Yeah right, me and Mickey Rourke!" I said.</p>
<p>This made us both crack up laughing as we went inside. Dinner was adequate, nothing fantastic but we figured that going in. We were tired and just needed some food. Babakar had the Cajun pasta while I had a chicken sandwich of some sort. I wasn’t that hungry. We’d also nibbled on bleu cheese stuffed olives and some hummus we had in the cooler while having our cocktails back at the room. After we went back to the room and it was fairly quiet. Babakar went out for his nightly constitutional and I turned on the Cav’s game only to see them lose their first game of the playoffs to the Bulls. They held tough to the end but they lost. I suppose someone had to. Why is it such a terrible thing? They won’t lose the series. Maybe this will give them a wake up call. Perhaps they need to know they can lose. I think this is the year and that Cleveland will finally bask in the glory of a professional sports championship. (NOTE: Of course I now realize how wrong I was and that LeBum may be a monumental choker...) I’m not sure why that is so important. They’re just a company. They don’t really care for any of their audience other than their wallets. There is no need for allegiance to a company. I mean who roots for Home Depot, or Wal-Mart or K-Mart or BP or well you get the idea. I don’t. I lost interest in pro sports when the Browns left and then they took advantage of all that loyalty and made us buy them a stadium and <em>then </em>pay for the right to buy tickets. It’s pretty screwed up the way that all went down. Anyway for the most part it was a day we both existed and now it had come to an end. Babakar got back to see the last 2 minutes of the game. Then I tipped back a glass of the small batch and went to sleep. Babakar turned the TV off but stayed up reading. The next day we hoped to get to the Queen City. Cincinnati.</p>
<p>Day 7</p>
<p>So we got up and had breakfast. This La Quinta’s breakfast was about as bad as they come. They only had cinnamon raison bagels which I’m not real fond of so I had a bowel of Cheerio’s, juice and coffee. The coffee was lame. It tasted like Burger King coffee which is <em>really </em>bad coffee. I did manage to take a couple of banana’s to eat in the car. We both like bananas and they are easy to eat while driving. We loaded the car and made sure the important things were packed like electronics, guitars, journals, the things that can’t be replaced and then we were off. North. We entered into Tennessee and for some reason it seemed more beautiful than when we came through it heading south.</p>
<p>"Perhaps it is the time of the day. We are earlier so the light is hitting the landscape at a different angle." Babakar suggested. It could be. We seemed to be floating on the top of the world which we were in the sense that we were at the highest point at that point of the earth but by that logic walking across Death Valley was also walking on top of the world at that point. Still we were up although I am not sure how high of an elevation we were at. There were times where they had to cut into the earth to make way for the road which left sheer walls of sedimentary rock exposed. We drove on enjoying the view then Babakar put in a CD by a dude named Damien Dempsey. Irish songwriter. Good album. It’s called "To Hell or Barbados". This kept our conversation to a minimum. We as a rule would stop whenever a rest stop came up and about 5 songs in there was one but we were enjoying the music and didn’t want to stop. Then the sign came that said the next stop was 82 miles. Could we hold our coffee laden bladders that long? Probably not, the music would have to be paused for a spell. I pulled the car over and parked. We got out and stretched. It was a good long slow stretch and it felt excellent. It probably meant that it was a good thing we stopped. Babakar headed in to the loo and I followed. As I walked in and I could hear a guy throwing up in one of the stalls. A boy outside of the stall was saying "Dad, are you OK?" And the guy would vomit and tell the kid to "go the fuck outside, Jimmy." Jimmy didn’t. He seemed worried about his father. When I got outside Babakar was standing looking at a map of Tennessee. I went up to him.</p>
<p>"That was pretty curious, Babakar?"</p>
<p>"What’s that?" He asked. He had used the left side of the mens room which was a totally separate room so he’d not seen Jimmy and his vomiting, swearing Dad. I told him what I had observed and he just shook his head. You could hear the man vomiting even out in the lobby area. We returned to the car and hit the road and it was Damien Dempsey right where we’d left him. We passed Nashville and then Louisville and soon we were approaching the Queen City. That was when traffic came to a dead halt. Up ahead nothing was moving. We sat. We sat. We sat some more. Then having done that we sat some more. Few things drive me crazier than being in a car and not moving. It didn’t seem to bother Babakar much. He got out and got the binoculars out of the trunk to look ahead but couldn’t see the cause of the back up. It was beyond the bend in the road. Couldn’t even see any flashing lights. He got back in and told me this and I looked around. Going the other way was Exit 72 so I looked this up on a map and pulled over half on the grass and half on the berm and passed about 8 cars which got me to the emergency turnaround. I gunned the car and shot out cutting across 3 lanes and exited at exit 72. From there Linda Sue guided us through some rather beautiful country with lots of up and down roads and cliffs with no guard rail. Very nice. I think it was route 42 and it paralleled I-71. We actually could have taken this all the way to Cleveland. It turns into Pearl Road at some point. Eventually we were driving through suburban type areas. This was slow and dull. Then we got to a point where 42 and I-71 intersected and it was moving again so we jumped back on the freeway only to have been delayed enough to time it so now we are contending with Cincy rush hour on a Friday night. Poop! Another delay.</p>
<p>Well we eventually got to the Comfort Inn. We had planned on going to check out a coffee shop called the Roh Street Caf</p>
<p>"We can hope!" for that was a really good place. Maybe it was just that the 2 times I’d been there I was primed for food and drink. Still it stands out as one of the best Mexican joints I’ve eaten at anywhere! As it turned out it this place was quite good. Not sure if it rivals Norfolk but very tasty. We filled up. I had a carne asada thingy with rice and beans and 3 tortilla’s that I’d wrap as much of the other things up in and eat it. That plus a good house Cabernet. Although the waiter initially brought a glass of Chablis...the imbecile, I smacked the glass off the table spilling the wine and yelled "Get this out of my sight and bring me what I asked for. You fool!"... OK I didn’t really do that. I wouldn’t embarrass Babakar by doing something like that. In fact I wouldn’t embarrass myself doing that either. We returned to the room and I was going to go for a walk and smoke my last cigar. I’d brought 2 cigars. The first I’d smoked on the beach the second would be smoked in the suburbs of Cincinnati strolling though the parking lots of a strip mall. Babakar said he was going to play some and might join me if he can find me later. I went and walked back over to the shopping area we’d been in previously. I couldn’t go into any of the stores because of the cigar but it allowed me to wander out in the middle of the parking area and get a great view of the sky. It was something I had learned years ago, when I lived in a seminary, about malls and shopping centers. Because they are so big and flat a large swath of sky gets opened up to viewing. So I stood in the middle of this parking lot and watched the remains of the sunlight fade. Tomorrow we would be home. I was ready. This had been a good trip but I am, deep down, a homebody. I like my familiarity. I know how to deal with it. Although I have also found that after a week on the road it takes a bit of doing to get back into the old swing of things. All in all these are worthwhile endeavors. To see the world it all its wonders is worth the effort. I can think of no time where I have regretted it. Senegal, Ireland, Mexico, the Gulf of Mexico, the southwestern desert. Even last years hotel in Tucson didn’t make me regret the trip as a whole. The Chiricahua National Monument alone was worth that trip. But I do miss my routine also. Also, as I mentioned... I miss my cat.</p>
<p>Day 8</p>
<p>The next day came. It was the last leg of the journey. It would also be the shortest one. I had laid out the plan so we could get back into Cleveland with plenty of time to return the car to Hertz and get across town via public transportation. I was hoping P.V. would be available but I knew ahead of time he might have gone out of town. We left by 8. We got a decent breakfast. There was even biscuits and gravy which Babakar had but I stuck to cereal and a bagel with cream cheese. Of course we both drank coffee. I also snagged a couple apples for the ride. We ended up not eating them but they didn’t go to waste. I took them to work in the following week and used them to augment my lunches. So after breakfast we loaded the car and were on the road, as I said, before 8. It was raining and overcast and very, very Ohio, very, very Cleveland even. We drove in silence, each carrying a travel mug of coffee we’d taken from the Comfort Inn before leaving. The drive, as we had a hotel on the northeast side of Cincy, was only going to be about three and a half hours. It was relatively uneventful and we listened to a couple more CD’s as we drove... Serena Postel and Shakti. Quite a contrast, the former was an independent singer-songwriter out of Winnipeg while the other was a Indian/Jazz fusion band with Zakir Hussein and John McLaughlin in it. We both loved all of these artists. In fact Serena had used a quote of Babakar’s from her CD Baby page on her own website. He was happy about that. "You know John, I really find her album a joy to listen to. I’m so glad you introduced me to this women’s songs."</p>
<p>"Not a problem, dude, not a problem. You have certainly turned me on to a lot of great stuff." It was true. It was indeed about the only way I ever heard new stuff was through friends. We didn’t stop at every rest stop, only when one or both of us actually had to use the restroom. I sensed that both of us wanted to be back in Cleveland and even once we got there I still had to get Babakar out to his place in Amish country and we still had to return the car. If PV were available that was going to be a big help otherwise I might not get home until 8 or 9 that evening. As it turned out we were back at the Mind Fry complex by eleven in the morning and PV was able to follow me to the rental car return. Babakar stayed at the MF complex while PV and I returned the car. When I got home Babakar and I had a cup of tea that he had prepared but then it was time to take him back to the cottage J. Kinslow had rented out east in Amish country. That took about 2 hours as when we got there Babakar invited me in for a glass of Calvados (a type of French brandy made from apples instead of grapes). We sat and sipped the Calvados and talked about the trip. It had been more than we’d bargained for with the introduction of his dolphin friend and the shark attack. "Still, I am glad that you allowed me to come. It was a fine adventure and while seeing my dolphin friend makes me long for home it was good to see him and I am glad that you know him now. Plus it has given me renewed resolve to finish up the album. You know I really loved crossing over Perdido Bay one time when I had gone out for my nightly walk. It was a distance but that evening I felt really strong and just kept walking. I am not sure how far I walked. But it seemed to draw me to it. I walked out on to the bridge and stopped and pressed my face against the chain linked fence and stared north at the bay. There was still some light in the sky but it was fading. I felt so good at that moment. Having seen my dolphin friend and being on this sojourn with you. It was good</p>
<p>"I have to admit Babakar, I have always loved the <em>sound</em> of the word Perdido. Ever since the first time I came down here to visit my Dad and step mom. There was something in the tone of the word ‘Perdido’ ya know what I mean?" I said, and I truly meant that. There <em>was</em> something poetic in the sound of the word. "I had no idea it meant ‘Lost’ though. I probably should call <em>my</em> next album Perdido also. I always feel lost in this world. It would almost seem stupid to state the obvious in my case." I said trying to be self deprecating while hitting the nail squarely on the head, although I never got the impression that Babakar too felt that way. He always seemed so grounded. An anchor. We are all human I suppose.</p>
<p>"We shall see. Perhaps I will run it by Samba or Barney or some of the Consort members. We shall see.." With that it seemed it was time to go. The glasses were empty and we seemed to come to that point where we should part. I stood up and grabbed my jean jacket. "Take it easy Babakar and thanks again for traveling with me. There will always be times where I travel alone but I am sure there is at least one more trip together for us, and probably more, that is if you’re interested."</p>
<p>"John, the pleasure is all mine and sojourns like this are always welcome from my perspective. Remember it was a grand sojourn you took back in 1990 that allowed us to meet. For that I am forever grateful to your brother. It was a good thing indeed. Have a safe drive back to Cleveland." With that I got back into my ‘97 Honda Civic and headed safely back to Cleveland.</p>
<p>The End</p>
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<p>Postscript: While we were in Alabama the Deepwater Horizon exploded and sank. At the time we had heard about it but as we were not paying much attention to the news and that sort of thing we didn’t think much of it. Since then British Petroleum has been trying unsuccessfully to stop the flow of oil into the Gulf. Tar balls have washed up on the very beaches we enjoyed. It is a sad thing. They say they may not be able to completely stop it until August. Babakar speculates his dolphin friend may have left for that very reason. But it is just speculation...</p>
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<p> </p>
Mind Fry Enterprisestag:mindfryenterprises.com,2005:Post/60580332009-11-22T12:00:00-12:002012-05-23T06:27:19-12:00Travels With Babakar - The Badlands
<p><strong>Travels With Babakar</strong>
</p>
<p>The Badlands</p>
<p>Day 1</p>
<p>So we took off pretty early. We’d planned to leave at 8 but as we were ready and it was earlier we ended up leaving at 7:43. The sun was just getting up and we were driving west. This was good the sun was at our back. Babakar had agreed to join me. I’d had a trip to the Badlands of South Dakota planned. Initially I had asked PV to go but he couldn’t. Not enough vacation time. So I had made the plans to go alone. Then J. Kinslow had contacted me about working in a production role with the Consort. Of course I jumped at the chance to do that. Those folks are awesome. It was a matter of going through the many recordings we had of them at Mind Fry and seeing if there were enough to fill a release. I had to laugh at the notion. They always have enough material. It turned out that Babakar was being flown in from Senegal and J. Kinslow was putting him up in a cottage out east of Cleveland, somewhere in Amish country... Midleton, Middlefield or something like that. It allowed Babakar some space for quiet contemplation. Of course he is always welcome at the MFE complex. If any artist comes in we will feed and house them if necessary as space allows. We don’t get a lot of folks recording there besides me and the Consort. Even the Chunks haven’t been there in a bit. One day at the studio I had to let Babakar know that he would be on his own for a week because I had this trip planned. This was his response.</p>
<p>"Well, I really don’t want to do this alone. I like a second set of ears you know, how about if I travel with you to these Badlands. I won’t be a bother and can pay for a separate rooms at the hotels. After all J. Kinslow paid for the cottage I am staying at. It might be fun if I am not imposing much." It was so funny, he was being so polite all I could say was. "Babakar of course you are welcome. I think you will dig it. P.V. and Dan (of friend who fronted the band Vital Mines) and I were there 2 years ago and I knew then I would return. It was magnificent. Please join me. No need to pay for a separate room although we may need to get a roll away because on at least the first night there is only one bed. Nothing personal but I’m not sleeping with you Babakar"</p>
<p>"If you really do not mind that settles it, but you are sure?"</p>
<p>"Of course I am sure, I had asked P.V. but he couldn’t. I really, for a change didn’t want to go alone. I almost canceled it a couple weeks ago. Then I knew I would be disappointed if I didn’t, so I got every thing set. I’m following the path the 3 of us took on the way out as closely as I can. We will stay in Norfolk Nebraska instead of O’Neil cuz there weren’t rooms available at the Holiday Inn. But we can get some great Mexican food and Tecate Beer at this joint we ate at in Norfolk. It’ll be a blast."</p>
<p>"Thank you I am forever grateful, John</p>
<p>"Thank <em>you</em> Babakar,</p>
<p>So that was how things started. Then the night before we left he stayed at the MFE complex and we took off bright and early. By noon we were in the South Bend area. I tried explaining the concept of Notre Dame and all their supposed mystiques but I got the impression that Babakar didn’t quite get it. It was a great drive. The weather was perfect. The first day we covered over 500 miles and got to Davenport, Iowa by 3:30 Iowa time (4:30 Cleveland). We took our stuff up into the room and chilled out. I cracked a beer out of the cooler. Babakar made a pot of coffee. There were the coffee pods that came with the room but we also carried our own grounds and that was what Babakar drank. He too loved his coffee. Once we had settled a bit we took out the guitars. We both carried one. Babakar had brought his Alvarez while I had my Wechter. We jammed a little and then Babakar asked me to play one of my newer songs. I played him a song called "It’s a Problem I Have" which is one of a few songs I had written recently dealing with people who have nothing better to do than to demean and denigrate others. Of course I made him play something in return. He played an instrumental he’d not named and wasn’t done with but it was something he could play on acoustic guitar. After that we sat for a bit. Babakar went out to smoke a pipe and I was left in the hotel room alone. I broke out the Scotch and was sipping it when Babakar returned. I was starting to get a little edge on from the scotch and suggested we go use the pool. He said he would sit and watch but he didn’t feel like swimming. So we went down and I swam while he read from Kerouac’s "On The Road" which I had packed as reading material. It seemed an appropriate book given that we were indeed also ‘on the road’.</p>
<p>I dove in. It felt good being surrounded by all the warm water.</p>
<p>Babakar sat for a bit on the side of the pool reading but soon a lot of kids and parents were coming in and they were fairly rude and splashing others and what not. At one point I surfaced from a pool length scuba diving expedition (in my mind) and I looked to Babakar and he was standing with the book in his hand. He motioned he was going up to the room and I nodded. I wouldn’t have stayed either, in fact even wanting to swim, all the little bastards were making it difficult to enjoy . Still I wasn’t going to be pushed out by them. There were 2 slightly older kids who were ‘in love’ and used the pool as an excuse to hold their half naked bodies against each other. I was in the deep end (which really wasn’t at 5 feet...) I think they were waiting for me to clear out and they might have tried having sex. They seemed oblivious to the security camera and everything else for that matter. At one point it was just them and me in the pool. The real loud brats had left. I kept doing my lengths and they kept snuggling in the deep end. They weren’t moving much so nothing was happening there. They were just whispering things to each other while leaving as little space between them as possible. Typical teenagers in love. I sensed they felt soon I would leave and they’d have the pool to themselves. Not on your life. I was going to be an obstruction to their love. It was just my mood. They kept me from totally enjoying it and I would do the same to them. After fifteen minutes the brats returned. At first they were unable to get in because they didn’t have a room swipe card. As I was thanking God for keeping them out the female lover got out of the pool and let them in. Once the loud brats had returned I got up and returned to the room to shower. Babakar wasn’t there. But "On The Road" was on the table so I assumed he went out for a walk. It had been a great day weather wise so my only regret was that I wasn’t with him. I showered and sat reading the book. I just opened it and read. I wasn’t necessarily starting it from the beginning, although I think Babakar might have been. I read for a bit and then practiced the guitar. Babakar returned and we decided to get dinner. There was a sea food joint next door so we went there. It was adequate. Like a local version of a Red Lobster. We each had a glass of wine with dinner. He had Salmon while I had the halibut. Like I said it was adequate. After dinner we went for a walk together. I showed him the Davenport sign Dave and I had goofed around by in the previous trip. I took a second pic of the word DAVE in Davenport just to show him I had been there. Then we took a drive downtown to the Mississippi river. That was the highlight of the day as the sun was setting. There was nice walkway along the river and the temperature was perfect. We walked casually talking and just enjoying the view. To the west there were a couple bridges that made for a fine picture. I regretted having put my camera down and forgetting to take with me. Alas... Finally we got in the car and returned to our room and went to bed. It had been a long but good day. I’m so glad he decided to join me. It makes a big difference.</p>
<p>Day 2</p>
<p>The next day started early. I got up at 6:30 only to find that Babakar was already up and just coming back from a short walk. He had walked north on highway 61 a little bit and then returned. Breakfast was not until 7 at this joint so while I showered he pick up "On The Road" and read some more of it. When I came out of the shower he said to me.</p>
<p>" I was just reading this Kerouac book and the chapter I read had the main character in Davenport Iowa. Funny he mentions Rock Island. It’s such a coincidence, don’t you think?"</p>
<p>"Only to a degree, I chose that booked because I knew that somewhere in it he crosses Iowa and Nebraska at some point. I didn’t realize it was so close to the beginning. Great book though."</p>
<p>"It is a classic, the Beats or Beat Generation. It reminds me of the lost generation, it was Gertrude Stein who coined the term wasn’t it John?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, I think anyway. My grasp of history is always tentative ya know. Sometimes I can grab the most obscure thing our of my past while other times I don’t know when the War of 1812 took place, ya know?"</p>
<p>Yes, I understand what you are saying."</p>
<p>So we traded small talk and silence for a bit. That was the great thing about us. Never did silence seem the least bit uncomfortable. People like that I can live with. People like that are rare and special to me. I finally broke a silence and asked him if he’d like to go to breakfast. He seemed intrigued by the book and said he’d be down in a bit.</p>
<p>"What time do you want to leave John?" he asked.</p>
<p>"I was aiming for 9. Our drive today is about 2 hours shorter so I figure we can start 2 hours later and still get to Norfolk at a reasonable time."</p>
<p>"OK, I’ll make sure I’ve gotten something to eat and be ready by then. It’s a good plan"</p>
<p>"Whenever we are ready is also acceptable." I said smiling to let him know we were on vacation!</p>
<p>So I went out of the room and took the steps down. I went into the breakfast area and prepared myself a bowl of corn flakes, toast and took 2 apples for eating in the car. I also had a couple glasses of apple juice and some coffee. The coffee wasn’t great but it would suffice. We had brought some good ground coffee but it was more for the cabins when we got there. I even packed a mug. I’d forgotten to pack a mug for Babakar because of his late addition. We’d have to get one. Maybe a Wall Drug mug or something. Worse comes to worse I would insist he use mine and I would use a paper cup or something. Mugs were easily obtained for a fee in America so I really wasn’t concerned.</p>
<p>Just as I was throwing my Styrofoam plates and cups away Babakar appeared. We exchanged pleasantries and I returned to the room and finished packing everything. His bag was already packed and sitting on the end of his bed. When Babakar returned we hit the road. Heading first north on Highway 61 and then west, always west, on interstate 80. This would take us almost to Omaha where we would jog onto I-680 and then to the Lincoln Highway (US 30) to Nebraska 75 to 32 West to 275 and then on in to Norfolk, Nebraska. There was a good Mexican joint Dan and PV and I ate at the last time through. So we went there for a late lunch/early dinner and munched big time. I think Babakar may have even gotten a little drunk on the Tecate’s we were drinking. I ate a lot of rice and beans as he did so the room would probably stink to high heaven by morn. Hopefully it wouldn’t start until we’d fallen asleep. Still that meant waking to stink. It was worth it though as the food was excellent!</p>
<p>Day 3</p>
<p>Day 3 begins. We get up later than preferred but alas we don’t have to be anywhere. We’d like to get to the cabins around 3. You can’t get in until after that. So the breakfast was pretty good. There were eggs and biscuits with sausage gravy. As they were probably eggs laid by tortured chickens neither I nor Babakar had any. Still, you normally don’t see that. Juice and toast were on the menu. Of course we’d steal whatever fruit looked good to take on the road. Apples were preferred. They were the easiest to eat while driving. Bananas were ok but there was the peel and you have to eat them quicker. Oranges are just to big of a pain in the ass to deal with while driving. Babakar would take them though. He was an artist when it came to peeling an orange. He would just caress the peel off the orange. A true master. There were times after a slow careful peel he would look at the fruit and then take out a segment and offer it to me. Of course I accepted. It always tasted great. I’m convinced it was because of the care he put into peeling it.</p>
<p>So today we get to the cabins. We can settle in a little. It is difficult settling in with the computers and all this. Prepping a place to live even though you only live there for an evening. Still it has been productive on some levels. We’ve been listening to a lot of music. We rock out when the windows are down and when its cooler out drive with the windows shut and the sound allows for more intricate things to be heard. When we play "Dark Side Of The Moon" we will probably ride and use the AC if necessary. On ‘low’ of course. I still have to go over the map. I know that we start on 275 which is where we left off but somewhere after Valentine we take a right and head north. I’ve got it mapquested so I should be OK.</p>
<p>So we drove and drove. It seemed longer than it was suppose to. Then again we bypassed Mapquest’s directions because it was taking us through area with roads called "broken foot trail and some other special names that were not on any map I had. Thus to get lost meant no directions to become unlost. We headed north at Valentine on US route 83 and that takes us to I-80 at Miroda, or something like that. We hit a scenic overlook which isn’t all that scenic given we are about to hit the Badlands but none the less we decide to make peanut butter and cheese sandwiches and drink a beer. We are both sated and the beer <em>really</em> hits the spot. I decide to pour one for the road and put it in my travel mug. Babakar, always the prudent, mentions its against the law. Once he knows I am aware of what I am doing he does not bother me. We pull out and soon we are at the front gate to the park paying a tall, at least she seemed tall in her both with me looking up at her, black women with a courteous but a <em>not</em> friendly demeanor. She takes my 15 bucks and I take her instructions to the cabins. I get to where they check in and this women who is courteous but not really friendly, sent us. I’m thinking she smelled the beer on my breath, so is less pleasant. Too bad for her. She should just lighten up. It’s like the women you can hear on the video track of Dave shooting when we were there as the unholy trio. You can hear her say something to the effect of "this is how stupid people die" referring to me walking out on a ridge that is clearly safe to walk on. She was just too tightly wound. There was no danger short of an earthquake and then she’d be taken also. One of those annoying folks I always seem to run into in the world. I know... it could be me and not everyone else... Naaaaaww.</p>
<p>So we get to the rooms and they are fine. Spartan as advertised but quite nice. I take the smaller bed while Babakar insists he take it but I win and jump under the covers and rub my body all over the sheets so he has to take the other one. He smiles in defeat shaking his head at my childish display. So we sit for a minute. I need a whiskey. I need a whiskey to celebrate finally getting back here and doing it in such a wonderful way. Only having PV along would it be better, or, God willing, Dan</p>
<p>So after I had my whiskey we decide to head out and take in the late afternoon views. We head out to an area near the western end that has a boardwalk. We stroll around there and then I get a little antsy and want to head out on the other side of the road where there are no trails or boardwalks. Babakar says he will wait there and remains standing at the end of the boardwalk looking out. I head across the street and wander into the scrub. I get to an area where the earth lifts up. It’s like if you cut a piece of cake and lift it that is how the earth rises. On the top where the frosting would be is grass and more scrub. It was irresistible and I had to climb this even though I had only worn sandals. We were saving the serious hiking for tomorrow. I got on top of this area and walked its perimeter. I eventually got to where you either had to jump down or turn back as the jump was more than I had climbed to get here. I walked on and just as I was to the area I climbed up I hear it. The rattle of a snake. I see it and it is curling up into a strike pose and it rattles again. While it is doing this I am jumping back putting a good 10-15 feet between us. I fumble for my camera and this just makes things take longer. I turn it on and aim. The amount of time I am taking is annoying Mr. Snake and he gives his tail another good rattle. I manage to get a couple pictures and then figure it wise to jump down and head back to the boardwalk. I get there and I am all excited. "Babakar, I came face to face with a rattlesnake." I say as I walk up to him at the same spot I had left him. His face lights up with a smile</p>
<p>"I take it you were not "Bitten By A Snake" he says referencing one of my songs.</p>
<p>"It was so cool, it sounded just like it does in all those old westerns. He rattled at me a few times and I got a couple pictures."</p>
<p>"That was bold, to hang around just to get photos." Babakar said questioningly.</p>
<p>"It was safe. Believe me Babakar I would not endanger myself just for a picture. He was a good ten feet away." I showed him the pictures on the camera. We hung out at the boardwalk for awhile, the sun eventually set and we felt like a drink so we headed back to the cabin.</p>
<p>We sat outside our cabin. I was sipping a whiskey while Babakar had a glass of the cheap Carlo Rossi Burgundy I’d packed. The night had cooled considerably from the day. It had been hot during the day. An early rise and hike seemed very possible. We sat in silence with only the ice in my scotch making any noise. Babakar got up and went into the cabin. He returned with his guitar and started to gently strum. It was a simple progression but it was nice. He went on for a bit. It fit the scene, it fit our moods. After about fifteen minutes I put my drink down and got my guitar and returned. He looked at me smiling with a "its about time" type of look on his face. I started to improvise a melody over what he was playing. This led to a different progression and then I took over the rhythm part and Babakar started playing a little lead. He doesn’t do this very much. With the Consort it is almost always Barney playing lead. He’d even asked me to do one when he thought Barney wasn’t going to be able to make the session (in the end Barney did do it ... I think they were nominated for a grammy in best instrumental, or something like that). When he started to play it was a simple lead. Nothing fancy, or fast and fiery. Just a melody. A very beautiful melody. Soon a head popped out of one of the doors, then from another cabin a lesbian couple (my assumption...) Came out. Soon we had an audience of 7 folks. They all seemed to be holding a beer or wine or cocktail and were just standing listening. We let the improvisation come to its natural end and a gentle applause broke out.</p>
<p>"They didn’t tell us about the nightly entertainment." one of the alleged lesbians said. "That was great"</p>
<p>"Where do you hail from." an older man who was with a women I’d guess to be his wife.</p>
<p>I’m from Cleveland, I’m John and this is my friend Babakar, he’s from Senegal."</p>
<p>"What bring you out here?" said the other lesbian.</p>
<p>"We were working on the next release by Babakar’s group when this vacation I had planned came up and as he was in the country and I wasn’t going to be able to work so I asked him to join me and..."</p>
<p>"Actually I invited myself and John was gracious enough to allow me to join him" Babakar interjected.</p>
<p>"So here we are. No point in 2 guitarist traveling together and not have their guitars."</p>
<p>"Play some more" a very pretty young girl said who was sitting closest to Babakar. She seemed to be here with her parents in one of the bigger cabins. She seemed the most entranced by what we were playing and that was the only thing she said so far.</p>
<p>"OK, lets see, would you like to here John sing. He’s a marvelous singer. I have learned some of his songs without him knowing it so this is all new to him too. Come John lets play ‘Weighs On My Mind’ I know it. I’ve learned some things from your albums. Lets give them a little concert."</p>
<p>"Yeah, a concert, yeah" were things heard for those gathered. So I agreed but if anyone complained from any of the other cabins we would quit immediately. So we played that and "Into Your Bones and "Goodbye" from my first album and then a few from my second and then at least a half dozen from my 3<sup>rd</sup>. I wasn’t sure when he learned these but he had them down. I would say he played them better than myself. It was a blast. The people sat in rapt attention and after each song we’d all talk for a bit. Sometimes about the music sometimes about the Badlands sometimes about Nietshcze (seriously, the young girl was big on him. She taught us a bit about his works... me anyway. I now know he’s peachy!) Eventually after about an hour to and hour and a half of playing we were tiring although the crowd had gotten into double figures so that was cool. A few more married couples arrived with folding chairs and set up shop with their cooler and a very pleasant demeanor. What a gas. I just thought we were coming to observe nature. To wander the Badlands and now we have an audience.</p>
<p>This went on fairly late. Lucky most of those in attendance were older and needed to crash on the earlier side of things. It gave me and Babakar some time to talk before bed.</p>
<p>"That was a great jam Babakar, we should do this more often." I said.</p>
<p>"Well this is true but we are rarely in the same spot at the same time, although luckily when this does occur there are instruments around usually. Today was no exception."</p>
<p>"These folks loved it. We were just making it up off the top our heads at times. I could have sold 10 CD’s tonight. That so gratifying."</p>
<p>"It was a kind gesture to give them all copies. The young lady in particular seemed to glow when you gave her a copy. She just held it and stared at it like it were a relic or jewel."</p>
<p>"You flatter me, she probably was deciding on whether to scream and throw the thing away from her or be polite and feign gratitude, I gotta admit I’m glad she chose the latter, my ego and all its fragility,..."</p>
<p>"You make me laugh." And the conversation drifted into silence. I eventually tossed back my last Irish Whiskey and went to bed. It was about an hour later I heard him come in and go to sleep.</p>
<p>Day 4</p>
<p>The next day we rose before the sun. I wanted to get pictures and told Babakar to sleep but he wanted to get pictures for his mind he said. He never took a camera anywhere, don’t think he owns one. Doesn’t let me photo him either. I gotta respect his wishes. I’ve never taken a picture of him and I probably never will. So off we went. I chose a hill on the eastern side of the park. Seemed logical given the sun rises in the east. It was perfect. That is until my batteries started to run out. When it got to the point where it wouldn’t take a pic I would take the batteries out and put them back in. That bought me another 4-5 pics Still I had to get back to the cabin. I apologized to Babakar but he was nonplused by it all. We rode back and given that we were there we did our bathroom stuff (probably didn’t want to know that did ya???) and got back out to hike on of the trails It was still cool and we didn’t want to hike in the heat of the day. "Mad Dogs and Englishman" Babakar would always say when the subject of the afternoon sun came up. He knew what he spoke of.</p>
<p>The hike was excellent. Again we shared a lot of quiet time. The scenery was magnificent. The only problem was when I initially insisted the trail went a certain way and indeed I was wrong. Babakar eventually pointed out that there was a marker off to the west that seemed to indicate the trail we wanted to follow. In the mean time we meandered around one area for about 45 minutes. But as Babakar put it, "we were still out here in this wonderful country. Taking it all in." Indeed we were. I think Babakar could have sat in one spot and meditated on the landscape and been as happy. His ability not to get flustered or frenzied with things is a way I wish I were. Alas, it is something to shoot for I suppose. A goal... On this day we saw no rattle snakes although I did make up a nifty little ditty about "Rattley Snake". A song of mirth, at least my type of mirth, to share with the world. As we hiked I would periodically break into it adding words as I went.</p>
<p>The landscape was amazing. The rock formations. The wildlife... bunny’s who didn’t fear you, mule deer, I even saw some weird badgeresque critter. Not sure what it was. I took a lot of photo’s while I was there but none of them do it justice. It reminds me of when I was in Ireland. Want a good picture? Just aim the camera. It is almost that easy. Even then the pictures don’t do the experience justice. Perhaps that’s why Babakar eschews camera’s. We put a lot of soil under our shoes that morning. It was a glorious hike in so many ways. Babakar was almost silent the whole time. Me in my usual way had to spout off every now and then and release the absurd thoughts that so often go through my mind when I am wandering.</p>
<p>We got back to the cabin and it was later than we thought it was going to be. So we washed up and headed into Wall. We went to Wall drug and picked up some sliced cheese and snacks for dinner and before dinner. Babakar was going to drink some wine while for the time being I was going to start with beer. Wall Drug was interesting. Not <em>THAT </em>interesting. Given all the hoopla I think that it should’ve been a little more interesting. Alas... I got PV a T-shirt from Wall Drug and of course we found a Wall Drug wine glass for Babakar. We decided to eat dinner in the room with cheese sandwiches and an apple and a beverage. The restaurant just isn’t very good and you have to tip and so this seems reasonable. The waitress had a cuteness to her. Not so much that I want to eat there. I think we will jam again tonight. Maybe not outside... maybe though. The wind has kicked up so we’ll have to see. Having your guitar sandblasted is not the best idea ya know.</p>
<p>Indeed we did jam again. We improvised more tonight. I was trying to avoid us just playing my songs, although I was flattered Babakar had learned so many of them. He was thinking we might do an open mic somewhere along the line, and who knows maybe we still will. His music is usually hard to play without a group. He writes his stuff for an ensemble. Me I am a singer/songwriter/guitarist. Though I write wackier stuff than that. No sooner were we outside warming up than the folks from the other cabins started walking over. It seemed they were ready and waiting for us. They were bringing coolers tonight. It looked like a full blown concert. Woodstock, the mini, or something. It was the same folks as last night only there were others who hadn’t been there. Word had spread. If only word could spread like that internationally. This was a good example of how mass communication killed the musical lives of so many. If it were not possible to make music in Cleveland and have it heard on the other side of the world shortly after the local musician would be a much more valued commodity. You would have your local stars and a show like we were about to do could be as satisfying as having U2 (or whoever) come to your local stadium. Maybe better. The young girl this time was accompanied by her father. We started playing again with an improvisation. Babakar started out droning on an A note while I peppered a lead around it. Pretty soon he developed it into a progression that had a fast Spanish flair to it. This was a style I was well comfortable with. I soloed for a bit, finally I looked up and Babakar wasn’t even watching me. He had his eyes closed and was grooving, so I continued to play the lead. Eventually that bit ended and everyone clapped and hooted and hollered. We were both beaming smiles like spot lights. Someone yelled out "Play that song you played last night...’Weighing My Mind" or whatever it was. So we played "Weighs on My mind" and this time I signaled Babakar to take the lead which he did playing a beautifully melodic line that hinted at the vocal melody but with enough lines of his own that it was pure Babakar. We played a couple more of my songs and then I took the rhythm and started an improvisation. This left Babakar to take the lead. He kind of looked at my like "are you sure" and I nodded vigorously. So he took off and played some very hot licks. I’d rarely heard him rip like that. Barney better be careful or he’s gonna get the boot from the Consort. Song followed by improv followed by song it was a mad crazy night. Plus we started sooner tonight and so folks were getting a little more intoxicated. One of the rangers even came by to check what the commotion was I think. She didn’t say anything but just must have noticed the crowd and the noise all gathered in one spot. Perhaps she had to make sure we weren’t fighting pit bulls or having cock fights or something. She stood and listened while we played when the improv ended Babakar asked her "Are we too loud"</p>
<p>"No, no and it seems everyone who could complain is here listening anyway.. Sounds great." And with that she drifted back to the welcome center she had come from. Finally after sunset Babakar and I had just had too much and we called an end.</p>
<p>‘We need to drink some ourselves." I said as I could tell Babakar was now as drained as I was. If it weren’t for one of the originals audience members standing up and saying "they need to drink people... they’ve played for almost 3 hours..." and then busting up into this wild, hilarious, manic laugh, we might still be playing. I went into our cabin and poured a stiff Bushmills (or is it a Stuff Bishmills???) and got Babakar a glass of Burgundy. "Got some Irish whiskey if anyone is interested." I said offering some up. No takers. It seemed a beer crowd primarily. So we all sat and talked for awhile. The initial core group hung out the longest. There was Jed and Alice from O’Neil, Nebraska, the young girl’s name was Allysa and she was from Cincinnati. When I heard that I added "I’m from Ohio myself, Cleveland. Find me a gig in Cincy and I’ll come and play there. And she actually took my e-mail and said she’d send some links to coffee houses that do stuff like I do. Her father looked on protectively. I think he was worried his daughter my get carried away with the ‘musician’. Never quite got that. It’s a myth as far as I can tell , or perhaps I am really lame... probably the latter. There was also the young couple who first heard us playing from the cabin next door. Janie and Chris. Nice folks. She and Chris sat pretty close. Could’ve been newly weds though they seemed to have been together much longer than that. They still seemed to have that lovey doveyness to their relationship. That kind of stuff normally makes me sick to my stomach but tonight it was really cool. I liked them. All in all it was a great night. Again it ended with just me and Babakar sitting on the bench in front of the cabin talking into the night. He’s a great person to talk to. He doesn’t need to talk and is a great listener but if he does say something, you can bet your ass its worth hearing. He’s a special dude. And tomorrow we leave. That leaves me feeling kind of sad. Leaving places where I have had special moments always leaves me feeling sad.</p>
<p>Day 5</p>
<p>So we rose early because we knew we wanted to cover a lot of ground the first day returning. The goal was to get back to Cleveland on Saturday and do all the shuttling of rental cars and what not and then have Sunday to recover. Not that we need recovering because that makes it sound like someone was wounded or hurt or something. Far from it. Healing indeed, harmful no. I wanted a receipt because J. Kinslow had said Mind Fry might cover some of the trip seeing as Babakar was going and it might add to his art thus would be an investment. Hmmm...</p>
<p>So we left the park listening to <em>Dark Side of the Moon</em>. Very cool. We both sat in silence and just enjoyed the music. Because it was early and still cool we rode with the windows up but no AC. If it were hot and we wanted good sound we would roll the windows up and use the AC but most of the time we were fairly content to allow the wind noise to be part of our environment. It is an area of agreement between Babakar and myself that the sound of life can be immensely beautiful in its own right.</p>
<p>Leaving the Badlands, crossing south Dakota to Iowa and then south then east, a hard east, the drive was long and the highway was feeling lonesome with just us cars riding it. At one point, I think it was cutting across Iowa toward Des Moines (La Quinta in Clive. I’d stay there again... got the pool and hot tub to myself ... excellent) there were all these wind turbines, windmills whatever they are called and it was really a beautiful sight. They are so <em>HUGE</em> it is amazing. They stand like giants. Spinning their blades at the wind and looking out across the great vastness that <em>is</em> the plains. Wide open, endless, seemingly infinite, and here they are giant, white with 3 blades turning. Then you look at the nearest tree and it doesn’t even get half way up the side of the it. THAT is how big these things are and why they seem so amazing. Like friendly versions of the War Of The World invaders. (<em> I can just imagine it all....... "They came in peace to create energy for us with our natural resources. Soon they will be sending their distant relatives the Solar Panel People who will come and use the Suns energy for mankind. Unfortunately mankind doesn’t trust because after September 11<sup>th</sup> trust was a sissy term. Trust was something only fools did. They trusted and got 4 planes hurled at them. Killing thousands. So they turned on the solar panel people and killed them all. Then they chopped down the wind turbine species. They were helpless as they were fixed in the ground. If they had blood it would have been a blood bath..." but I digress..............</em>) Stunning to look at as I drove east across the plains. The plains themselves are often described as boring but I found them fascinating. The amount of land you cross driving to the Badlands and back is stunning. Everywhere you look there was just endless land. You could tell returning that you had gotten into Illinois because after an hour and a half or so there were a lot more signs for Motels and hotels and gas and food and all the rest.</p>
<p>We stayed in Des Moines, as I mentioned at the La Quinta, and again I swam and Babakar sat reading Kerouac by the pool side. There were no kids this time. It was just us. I went from swimming to the hot tub and back several times. Babakar just read. We left there and returned to the room where I showered and then we went out to dinner. We tried Romano’s <em>Macaroni Grill</em>. Poor hostess, good waitress, and my Lobster Spaghetti could have been a lot better. The Lobster was fishy (and that which came from a shell was worse than what was mixed in with the spaghetti) and the grape tomatoes had a hide as tough as Rambo. Ended up with Tomato hides in my stool the following day. Those were some tough grape tomatoes. (I know you didn’t want t know that but...)</p>
<p>Day 6</p>
<p>The next day is September 11<sup>th</sup>. We want to get to South Bend and farther if we can. Time is on our side today and we can feel more relaxed. We don’t encounter much traffic at South Bend like we thought we might given what we saw heading west in the east bound lane so that is good. We finally stop for the night in Fremont/Angola Indiana just west of the Ohio state line. The Comfort Inn. <strong>9-11-09</strong>
</p>
<p>I go to the pool alone. Babakar doesn’t feel like joining me and decides to go out for a walk. There isn’t much around this area. The pool however is all mine. I have it for over an hour. No one comes in. Finally I get out and am drying myself off when a lovely young thing comes in and peels of her top and takes a shower and then dives in. If I hadn’t gotten out already I might well have kept swimming on the chance that this sweet young thing may be interested in an old troll like myself. None the less it would be too obvious if I jumped in and then the dirty old man syndrome kicks in and I feel guilty, I so hate feeling guilt. So I go back to my room and Babakar is sitting sipping a cup of coffee. There is a cup left and he offers it to me but I declined. I shower and then it’s a whiskey for me. For dinner the woman at the front desk said to head up the road behind the hotel and we will run into a bunch of places. We end up at a Ruby Tuesday. It’s adequate and the waitress’ are rather attractive considering the size of the town. I have a Cajun Tilapia while Babakar also has Tilapia but prepared differently. Afterwards we decide to take a walk through the Wal-Mart that’s across the way from the Ruby’s. Neither of us have been in one in so long and all the shiny lights and stuff are rather amusing sometimes. We wander aimlessly.</p>
<p>"You know, John" Babakar starts "These prices <em>are </em>amazingly low. At least for this country. I can see where one’s financial circumstances would lead you to shop here despite where the stuff is made and by who and how its closing the mom and pop places etc. I mean if you didn’t make a lot of money and had a family you really, for their sake, would be almost required to shop here. Certainly there would be a lot of personal pressure. Don’t you think?."</p>
<p>"Yeah, I can see what you are saying. But I do know folks who manage to get by without supporting this place." Then as we are walking past the sporting goods section Babakar stops and starts looking at putters. He selects the cheapest one they have and carries it with him. I give him a questioning look and he responds</p>
<p>"I need to practice, perhaps I can make your tournament this year."</p>
<p>"So you are going to buy it?"</p>
<p>"No I am going to threaten the cashier with it and if she does not let me leave without paying for this...POW up the side of her head."</p>
<p>"Right, that’s you Babakar, Mr. Violence..."</p>
<p>"I’ve been learning a lot over time about you Americans. One thing I have learned is that while there are many stereotypes one must never subscribe to them. You will probably be wrong." I could only shake my head.</p>
<p>So we went back to the hotel and I wanted a whiskey. I looked at the ice bucket and it was all melted so without me saying anything Babakar grabbed it and said he’d fill it. In a couple minutes he returned with a couple bags of pretzels from the vending machine to boot. I took one of the plastic cups, (I would occasionally use plastic I was too lazy to go to the car and get my ceramic mug, but <em>never</em> Styrofoam.) Filled it with ice and poured from the bottle of John Powers that I had just cracked. I watch the liquids swirl and mix from the top. Then I noticed Babakar wine into his new Wall Drug wine glass. He held it up and said "To an excellent trip, I thank you for allowing me to join you."</p>
<p>"The pleasure is all mine, my friend." I said and we drank. Then he suggested we take our drinks and go for a walk. It was warm so we didn’t need a sweatshirt or anything and we headed out trying to be discreet about our drinks. Our room was near the exit at the end of the hall so we went out that way and then across the parking lot and across the street. I was in front when I heard Babakar say "Cross the street." so I led the way. We crossed the street and lo and behold it was a very large putting green. I turned and Babakar stood holding the putter up and one of the balls he had purchased at Wal-Mart. He was tossing the ball up and down in one hand casually. "Shall we invent some type of putting game?" he asked. Of course I burst out half squealing and half laughing at the concept. He’d had this up his sleeve for a bit. "When did you find the green?" I asked</p>
<p>"When I went out earlier while you were eating breakfast and at the time it had made me think how fun it would be to play some putt putt. When we were in Wal-Mart, while I didn’t want to spend money there it seemed a sacrifice worth doing, so I bought the club and balls. The excuse about making your tournament is probably hogwash. I am pretty sure I have to be in Dakar the first weekend of October, it’s the 3<sup>rd</sup> isn’t it?" he said.</p>
<p>"Yeah it is." I said then thinking further "Well shall we?" So we decided to play a game where we would start at the edge of the green from 18 points and shoot toward the hole. Initially it was fun but after about 6-7 ‘holes’ we decided to alternate turns making up a hole. We used rocks and twigs, mainly as markers because we had no intention of doing the green any harm. We played for a couple hours, although at one point I ran to the room and retrieved our bottles. Babakar impressed me with his imbibition that night, for him anyway. Eventually we returned to the room and crashed. I think it was after 2 a.m. Checkout wasn’t until 11 and we only had 3-4 hours of driving so we could sleep in.</p>
<p>The next morning I got up. Babakar slept in a bit. I think the wine had gotten the upper hand on him. He almost always rose early. I didn’t want to bother him so I went down to get the free breakfast. It was pretty good. The usual suspects. Cereal, fruit, bagels, pastries, juice etc. While I ate cereal and drank juice and coffee, I loaded 4 pears into my pockets along with 2 apples for the ride to Cleveland. As it turned out Babakar went to breakfast while I was back at the room showering and also grabbed 4 pears and 2 apples so we had plenty of road food for the last leg of the journey. In fact we’d probably have leftovers when we got to Cleveland! We hit the road around 10:30. We headed a little north to catch the Indiana turnpike and then headed east to Ohio. Before long we were seeing signs for Toledo. I asked Babakar if he minded a slight detour and he didn’t so I headed north on I-280 and jumped off on Route 2 in Oregon, Ohio. This took us along the wetlands near the Lake Erie shore. It was a nice farm country/wetland mix and I thought Babakar might like it better than the stale turnpike. He did. I often drove this way when heading up to see family in Michigan but he had never been along here. I regaled him with my tales of traveling this road and the stretch along Route 2 that went through Bono, Ohio (which I told him had an annual Bonofest in honor of the U2 singer... he didn’t believe me, and shouldn’t have... I was lying). We eventually got to the Ottawa Wildlife Refuge and I pulled off the road and we went back there and walked for a bit. He seemed in a reverie. He was quiet but seemed to gaze intensely at the wetland. It was a warm day though the bugs weren’t too bad. I was there once at sunset and was besieged by bugs to the point I had to leave. I wanted to show him this because it was where I had gotten a recording of ambient sounds that the Consort was using on their newest release. There was a song called "Sonic Wetland" they were doing and they were using all these bird and duck and bug sounds I had recorded here. He said he was glad to be able to see where they had come from. We stayed about an hour walking perhaps a mile or 2. There was a full 5 mile circuit you could stroll but we were fine walking casually and taking in the sights and sounds and scents. Finally we climbed back in the car and continued on.</p>
<p>"Thank you John, thank you, for taking this way." he said after we had driven for about 15 minutes.</p>
<p>"No problem Babakar, I thought you might dig it. I also wanted you to see the Ottawa. It’s special place for me. I’m not sure why I just really love being there."</p>
<p>"It’s because it is beautiful. Also it’s not that far from your home. The Badlands also are a special place but it takes 2 ½ days to get there. It is good to have special places so close."</p>
<p>"Yeah, sometimes I forget that."</p>
<p>"The Cuyahoga Valley too is special isn’t it?"</p>
<p>"Absolutely. If the Consorts mixing sessions have you here at the end of October we will have to take a picnic down there and revel in the fall splendor."</p>
<p>"Yes and with any luck I will see the first snow fall here." he said, he loved snow and he loved to make snowmen.</p>
<p>"Let’s not rush things Babakar, I know you like the snow but we Clevelanders are in no rush for that to get there. It’s a long cold season. The last few years have seemed longer and colder. I’d trade you Senegal’s heat for Cleveland’s cold any day." I said matter of factly.</p>
<p>"I suppose what you don’t have is always often more appealing." Babakar said and with that we remained silent just watching the countryside go by. Eventually we crossed the causeway over Sandusky Bay and were back on the part of Route 2 that was split like the turnpike. We stopped one more time at the Vermillion rest area. I had to pee and I also wanted him to see the cliffs that were there. He suggested we climb down but I said we might get in trouble and he didn’t push the matter. Plus at this point I was eager to get home, I suspect normally I would have been all for climbing down, PV had even chastised me for suggesting it once, yes PV, chastising me for breaking the rules. Besides Erin (my cat in case I’ve not mentioned her so far...) was waiting for me and I was missing her. Despite some traffic we got back by 3 and returned the rental car and were back in the house by six. Babakar was going to stay at my place that night and the next day I’d drive him back to the place out east J. Kinslow had rented for him while he was in town. P.V. stopped by that evening and I cooked a dinner of black beans and rice and peas and turmeric and we drank wine and ate cheese and I showed P.V. the photos I had taken. It was a fine night after a fine trip. I had the next day off and didn’t have to work until Monday. This was good.</p>
<p>Day 7</p>
<p>The next day we both rose early. We ate coffee and bread and cheese for breakfast and then Babakar was off. I would see him in a few days as we had a mixing session at Dark Tree Studios on Wednesday. Me, I went for a bike ride and then just chilled for the rest of the day. It was weird not being on the road. I had to get used to this new old way of life, although it didn’t take long. Upon returning from my ride I showered and drank a beer and lay on the couch. Erin climbed on to my chest and I took a long welcomed, but unplanned, nap. I was home. Erin was happy to have someone to sleep on and I too was happy to have my little buddy sleeping comfortably on my chest. But then also I missed the road. It had gotten into my system and now I was unfamiliar with not traveling. Still at that moment I felt happy and content. What more could one ask for?</p>
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