Saturday, July 11, 2009
" FIDDLE STICKS ! "
i want to finish reading " louis prima " by garry boulard
there is a party several houses down. loud techno music
it does not mix well with either light or heavy reading
the obituary of musician sam butera led me to the book
and cd " jump jive and wail : the essential louis prima "
what incredible music ! highly highly recommended
but i digress
i walk onto my porch and watch groups of young people
go from their cars to the party. every style and type of
dress is represented. the majority of girls wear heels
short and shorter dresses or skirts and speak a dialect
that is a mixture of valley girl eastside surfer chick
corona is the favored beer. cellphones are ubiquitous
after an hour a ruckus over a girl begins. there is a bit of
yelling and shouting. several women push a young man
away from the party and into the street while telling him
to chill. the situation ebbs and flows for thirty minutes
or so and seems to die out
suddenly an another round of yells and shouts. a bottle
is thrown and shatters behind a beboy. he turns and says
something. more bottles are thrown. the beboy pulls
a gun and fires one two three four times. there is a panic
which quickly subsides once the shooting stops and
no one is hurt
the street is littered with broken glass and wasted beer
i notice two drunken women leaning against the gate
in front of my home. one is slender and tall in clear heels
and light blue hotpants. her pleasingly plump friend is
wearing a short orange dress. its upper contents yearn
to be free. i am concerned these wholesome young
and scantily clad girls may fall into the clutch of
a degenerate and immoral person
being both good samaritan and older paternal type
i offer my house as refuge and sanctuary where
they can sleep in peace under my watchful eye
very sadly they ignore me
" fiddle sticks ! "
i want to finish reading " louis prima " by garry boulard
there is a party several houses down. loud techno music
it does not mix well with either light or heavy reading
the obituary of musician sam butera led me to the book
and cd " jump jive and wail : the essential louis prima "
what incredible music ! highly highly recommended
but i digress
i walk onto my porch and watch groups of young people
go from their cars to the party. every style and type of
dress is represented. the majority of girls wear heels
short and shorter dresses or skirts and speak a dialect
that is a mixture of valley girl eastside surfer chick
corona is the favored beer. cellphones are ubiquitous
after an hour a ruckus over a girl begins. there is a bit of
yelling and shouting. several women push a young man
away from the party and into the street while telling him
to chill. the situation ebbs and flows for thirty minutes
or so and seems to die out
suddenly an another round of yells and shouts. a bottle
is thrown and shatters behind a beboy. he turns and says
something. more bottles are thrown. the beboy pulls
a gun and fires one two three four times. there is a panic
which quickly subsides once the shooting stops and
no one is hurt
the street is littered with broken glass and wasted beer
i notice two drunken women leaning against the gate
in front of my home. one is slender and tall in clear heels
and light blue hotpants. her pleasingly plump friend is
wearing a short orange dress. its upper contents yearn
to be free. i am concerned these wholesome young
and scantily clad girls may fall into the clutch of
a degenerate and immoral person
being both good samaritan and older paternal type
i offer my house as refuge and sanctuary where
they can sleep in peace under my watchful eye
very sadly they ignore me
" fiddle sticks ! "
