Saturday, July 30, 2011
(This week, let the movie themes run amok...)
It was the cliched middle of the night, and I was awakened by a voice. In my groggy, still yet-unwakened state, it was at first a mere outburst of voice. Then, the voice formed a word, a name. "Felicia." "Feli-cia!," all stretched out. "FELI----CIA!!!!" like a modern version of Stanley Kowalski, and his "STELLAAAAAA!" Sound carries far here in the desert, the lower bass end usually disappearing fast. But this fellow had bounced his voice into this narrow canyon of close standing faux-dobe townhouses, with the bass resounding nicely. After a few more Felicias!, he wrapped up his oratory with a surprise, with an "I Love You!" that bounced along the earthen walls, through the wind-catching open windows, and into our imaginations, making us wonder at what it was that had caused Felicia to wander off in a perceived huff. The absence here of hot tin roofs means too the absence of cats. But the dogs chose to have their say, starting up as one. Then it was the baby's turn to critique the performance.
In time, the dogs wrapped it up, as did my girl. But our man Stanley was still out there somewhere, his voice barely audible, being lost to the vastness of landscape, and to the credits now rolling on what had been a brief foray into wakefulness...
On the turntable: Jerry Garcia, "1969-10-28 Fulton Street "