Got The Fever

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Learning To Fly

A few light, but wordy emails sent back and fourth. They're filled with sincere and hopeful intentions. The engine's just sputtered and coughed up enough to slap the rotors to turning.

An exchanged snatch of knowledge here, and there, the tiny glitter or two of personal insight is tentatively disclosed. The rich mixture of gas through its veins lurches the whole craft alive.

A small joke, and cautious hints of encouragement are shared and wondered upon - was it the right thing to write? The first hard wheel movements rotate along with an urging from the boisterous buzz from under the hood.

Novel printed curios go across to one another, the short history of one another is discovered and thought about later, the mood is lighter, beginning to be playful and each note is sent in anticipation of a quicker reply. Craft, now moving with ease, you find yourself approaching the much sought after runway, eager to loosen the hold of molten tar lined with long, white stripes.

The replies are gobbled up almost undigested, suspense simmers, bubbling warm and slowly with excitement; smiles are effortless while reading and with vague reason, calendar availability is discussed. The deafening roar has turned to consumable background droning, straps tighten around your waist, nervousness and excitement leave a swallowed taste in your mind as you're lunged forward to a speed that will now deny returning.

Slightly overdressed, he leaned belly first into a mailbox in front of the annointed pub of destiny, drumming with fingers tapping the metal to a different beat, each tap not quite right, but it feels good on the fingers and it's the alternative to walking back and fourth in front of the impatient, waiting in-line overcrowd. Skull packed against the pillow rest, it's take off, and the deep, dizzy feeling of vertigo.

After looking at the time on the cell - the fifth or sixth time, she appears through the right window of his eyeshades. She's smiling, with long hair gracefully bending with the light summer breeze. You're level - cruising altitude; the hardest part is over, all that remains is to rely on years of experience to stay aloft, unwavering in the flight path.

Those emails, the time that moved too quickly or too slowly, those nights of imagination and fantasy brightly colored, the positive feeling of satisfaction - all led to this moment.

No longer a twelve-thirty in the morning blitz of notes, or a daylong reminding bump from the cerebellum that had him stop to think about her at the oddest times, this is culmination - the last paragraphs of chapter one to be written.

Laughed loudly, showed pictures from their phones, danced (she's wiry), imbibed, disclosed deeper, became tender at moments. They somehow made an unintentioned impression on the locals - a complete stranger from a pack in another booth came up to them, put a hand on his shoulder, looked at them both and with a warm smile remarked that they made a perfect couple.

End of evening came much too quickly, and a lingering goodnight was all too brief.

"If we meet again", she asked later via cell text, "Would we have our on-line fantasy destroyed"? He smiled as he touched finger to keypad and replied, "I prefer to think of it as fantasy come to life".

Imaginary Lover
Surely a peak of Atlanta Rhythm Section for me. Always has been. Studio musicians to begin with, their playing is tight but robust and playful. Lately it's played when there's precious few sane hours left before having to get up for work again. The perfect segue before rapid eye movement and the damaging alarm at 5:30AM. Greg Kihn said it best; they don't write like that anymore!

Imaginary lovers, never turn you down
When all the others turn you away, they're around
It's my private pleasure, midnight fantasy
Someone to share my wildest dreams with me

Imaginary lover
You're mine, anytime
Imaginary lover

Fantasy Girl
I've never been a fan of 38 Special, but this is one of those 'bubbling under' songs for me. Every other blue moon is enough time between hearing it again. But i'll be damned if this isn't one of the songs that came to mind during those emails. Lyrics are surprisingly tender at times and with just enough Strat to rip it open.

Now, I've had my share
And sometimes I swear
That I've had me enough
You end up in sorrow, broken tomorrows

Love can be tough
But, my mind's eye
Sees a vision of true love
And how it should be
Me and my fantasy girl
Hold on to me

Imaginary Lover
Atlanta Rhythm Section: Best of ARS [1991]

Fantasy Girl
38 Special: Anthology Remastered [2001]

Addendum
Being out of the light of blogging for the past year and more had not diminished my craving to continue to read what I knew well in the music sphere. A few that I still read, and continued to respect, somehow noticed that I had turned on the lightswitch and kindly took time out to say hello. Who would have thought?

Jeff over at AM, Then FM first called on me just as I Got The Fever again, Greg over at Echoes In The Wind welcomed me and gave me information, IB at Siblingshot On The Bleachers cheered me on, Vincent, stationed over at Fufu Stew, smiled and shook my online hand, and the good dj over at The Hits Just Keep On Coming actually went out of his way, sending me email and prodded his flock my way via a plug on a recent post. They're all the sizzlin' pop rocks on the rim of your musical margaritas - quality writing and superb nuggets for sampling.

I have the warmth of the (blogging) sun within me tonight.

10 Comments:

  • Well, I've just happened across your blog and happy to have done so. I'm looking forward to making it a regular stop.

    By Anonymous Barely Awake In Frog Pajamas, at 10:40 AM  

  • Glad to have you in the fold. Hope you find something every once in a while that'll grab you.

    Be sure to check out the like minded folks I pointed out - you'll be amazed at the depth!

    By Blogger WZJN, at 10:47 AM  

  • :-)

    Peace and blessings.

    By Anonymous vincent the soul chef, at 3:23 PM  

  • Nicely done.

    By Blogger whiteray, at 9:40 AM  

  • Students becoming angry and violent in the UC protests. Reminds me of labor riots of the 20th century.
    We all know what's happening here:::These white men at the top have voted themselves $400k pay and retirement packages like that fucking uneducated fire chief in this metro region, loading up their friends on the payroll during the boom 90s and all services which the program were intended to fund get cut to pay for it.
    It was temptation, and the Gods are going to make them pay for it. Unfortunately, so will everybody else:::
    Reincarnation is very real. It is OUR national debt.

    Anger about Messerlee. Understandable.
    They need to understand this man was pushed into the offense. Cops have been getting away with killings like this for a long time. Blacks in the South know this all too well. Each time they were all confident the Blue Shield would protect them, and it did. The difference is in many IF NOT MOST of these cases they were rogue cops who the Gods tempted. They did it intentionally thinking they were "earning", knowing they would get away with it. They were the ones whom the Gods disliked, while the Messerlees of the world who get caught are being punished, feedback reserved for those the Gods have interest in keeping.
    There are those in the ghetto whom are singled out, targets of the community whom everybody hates. The rogue cops in the South who are guilty of these kind of killings have been reincarnated into roles like this. It's just one of the clues the Gods offer to the community. Lucky for those preditors the ghetto has been an ignorant community, but I think that might be changing.

    Of course there could be anoher possibility:::::Due to the history and resulting legacy of hatred for the Gods, since I am guarenteed a spot on the next Planet Earth I will be the original "bad seed":::The Lucifer-figure of the next reality. Unlike Christian dogma, he may just represent the solitary target of the God's ire early, a disgruntled asshole who pissed the Gods off, the proverbial "apple" of the next reality, beginning the process which leads planets to where we are today. A crucial figure in any planet's history, he represents the "beginning of the end".
    lanet Earth.

    I have said diseases, such as cancer, won't be going anywhere, no matter how much money is thrown at it, no matter how much money is raised. These diseases are important tools used by the Gods to help people do the right thing:::Cancer has compelled more than a few women to begin praying and behave appropriately.
    In this environment of decay, the Gods will eventually eliminate these motivations one day. Positioning states cures/vaccines are positive developments which display life is improving. Unfortunately, this is just another example of how the Gods utilize "reverse positioning" which has been very effective in promoting deceptive elements in society, such as democracy, Christianity and Californication, Hollywood being the primary tool used to spread the message of The Beast.
    Similarly, other motivations which have complelled people to turn to the Gods for solice will begin to disappear as well::::Economic recession/turmoil, Unlike the Christian Bible's version, the Apocalypse will not be preceeded by ruin and desperation. Just the opposite, there will be peace and personal satisfaction leading to The End, ensuring the Gods can control the group selected for the Second Coming event.

    The irony of the Apocalypse::::
    People told not to follow the Second Coming, who fail to recognize the urgency of the moment and die in the Apocalypse because of it.
    The Gods will account for people who do not sell out to Christianity, however difficult due to temptation.

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