And so I took my guitar and sang the song written by Cass Elliot (The Mamas & The Papas) for John Denver whose original title was ‘Oh Babe I Hate To Go.’
“But, Im leavin on a jet plane. Dont know when I’ll be back again. Oh babe, I hate to go.”
The gal who destined to be a doctor one day and who lived next door stared at me through the window of her bedroom. I knew she hated the folk songs. The day before, I sang Bob Dylan’s Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright:
It ain’t no use in callin out my name, gal
like you never done before.
It ain’t no use in callin out my name, gal,
I can’t hear you any more.
I'm a-thinkin and a-wondrin walkin down the road.
I once loved a woman, a child I’m told.
I give her my heart but she wanted my soul.
But don’t think twice, it's all right.
It was at this point, she blasted her Wharfedale Denton, brought from the UK by her dad years back and the sound of the electric bass thundered through the calmness of the late afternoon.
Say you dont know me or recognize my face.
Say you dont care who goes to that kind of place.
Knee deep in the hoopla sinking in your fight.
Too many runaways eating up the night.
Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, dont you remember…
That is a fragment of my childhood memory. Part of the growing up days. Our bedrooms at the rear section of our respective houses faced each other. Im sure she saw Earnest Borgnine yelling at some burning train. Can’t remember what it was. Just a movie poster given by my mom for my room decoration. And from my room I could see a huge studio print of Henri Matisse’s View of Notre-Dame hung on her wall.
And we never did talk thoroughout those years. Somehow I knew she will always have Notre-Dame.
On the subject of a cherry tree and a sperm whale, I’ll tell you someday.
7 comments:
Salam bro,
Lor...lama tak buata entry, bila buat, tease pula ngan tajuk lain, cerita lain :)
ps. I lost my hp and all the numbers within, including yours. But do read my latest entry at http://gila-aje.blogspot.com. Perhaps, you would care to visit me then. Physically, I mean :)
Hi Shirzad!
Like before, I always enjoyed your posts, even though most of the time, I barely understand half of its content..haha. Except for John Denver's Leaving on a Jetplane, which I occassionally sing at karaoke, he rest are 'foreign-matters' to moi.
Will wait for the cherry tree a sperm whale...is it 2 different stories?
one of the best neoplasia biology lectures i've had was given by a pathologist who is also an art buff. she basically looks at tumor cross-sections all day, and equates them to matisse paintings - colorful and brilliant (depending on what markers she looks for in the tumors, they are stained with different dye conjugates). she showcased 'view of notre-dame', and it made me think of your post.
sperm whales apparently possess the largest brain of any mammals, did you know? quite majestic looking as well; large lung capacity. imagine the exhalation rate after a certain thought process (if they think, that is).
this girl in your story, she a electro-bass-trance-funk junkie? i bet portishead sounds brilliant booming out of her wharfedale denton. she sounds like my kind of girl ;)
hello brother
hehehe...stories are stories. visited your gila aje...wah...inspiring as usual. hope we could talk for a teh tarik soon. meanwhile Selamat Hari Raya.
hello Ydiana
salam Aidil Fitri
Thank for revisiting my blog. I am not leaving on a jetplane yet. At least not yet. About the Cherry Tree, well some stories only exist in the mind. :)
hello kw
thank you for you comment. the girl in my story, i think she is a fan of leo fender. It was a transitional period in music. When fender perfected his electric bass, it was time to keep the taller-and-fatter-than-thee double bass to the garage.
According to one study, playing the double-bass for an extended period of time could cause shoulder-blade cancer. Maybe you should look into that.
Yo!
Ydiana wuz here! :)
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