The Long-Winded Bluesman

By the way, Jeremiah, a fine specimen of the genus Rana Catesbeiana, known in common argot as the North American bullfrog, happened to be a rather loyal and extremely agreeable companion of mine; not quite, perhaps, what purveyors of children’s literature might deem “an inseparable friend”, since Jeremiah would often, for example, retire to a nearby swamp to pursue his interests in the more experimental manifestations of entomological gastronomy, but it could be said, without fear of contradiction, that Jeremiah and I had, beyond all doubt whatsoever, forged the most definite and unbreakable bonds of mutual esteem for each other’s qualities as an acquaintance of great importance and respect. Indeed, my own concern for Jeremiah’s personal well-being reached such an extent that I would regularly invite him along on my excursions to the classical ballet. On such occasions, Jeremiah would usually hop around on the floor in an amusing and cheerful imitation of the dancers. Afterwards, sharing a glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc in the marbled foyers between the richly gilded statues of David Bowie and Hank Marvin, I would attempt to engage Jeremiah in a critical discussion regarding whatever performance we had just witnessed, but Jeremiah’s series of what must have been highly perceptive croaks fell upon ignorant ears, since his peculiar idiom and dialect were not familiar to me, nor for that matter, I imagine, was my own language comprehensible to his fine ear. Still, behind those wise old bulging eyes of his, I knew that Jeremiah was a cultured and loving soul who only wished only the very best for those around him. To the fish that swim in the impenetrable depths of the deep blue oceans of this world, including but not exclusive to Pacific and the Atlantic, to these fish - especially the Haddock, Ling, and South American Hoola Shark (his personal favorites) – to these fish I happen to believe that Jeremiah wished enormous and eternal joy, and that such special greetings were also extended by Jeremiah to persons such as myself, whom he knew well, and also to people like you, whom he had never met and never will. Yes. Jeremiah wished us all joy and happiness, as indeed do I.
Now, where was I? Oh yes: I woke up dis mornin' ....

Comments

[Bleak Mouse]

Too much Henry James last night after a heavy meal? It happens to me, too, although without, thankfully, the frogs.

Can we expect you to enter a "late phase," where a sentence -- or even the occasional subordinate clause -- will begin on one page and grind to a reluctant pause seventeen pages later?

[Mrs. Peperium]

I never understood a word he said either. And his friend Aquarius who was all about his age, was over my head too.

[Fcb]

That was no simple dream: nobody knows of Hank Marvin in this country. I now believe your downey pillows must intersect the leylines to Glastonbury? There is, quite frankly, no other explanation for it.

[stephenesque]

Does anybody know about Hank Marvin anywhere? Should they? These are burning questions.

[stephenesque]

BTW - I forgot to add, I think Bleak Mouse would certainly enjoy a little of Hank's fine fretwork with his lunch.

[Fcb]

That you mention Hank, yet singularly fail to mention even the name of his lord and master, the Dracula to his Renfield, leads me to conclude that you misidentified the statue of "Bowie": there can be no Hank without Cliff. The two are often mistaken for one another.

[stephenesque]

Ha ha. "Summer Holiday" - truly horrible. I don't mind The Shadows, tho'. It's listenable-enough pap to play while doing the vacuuming.

[Bleak Mouse]

Damned if you haven't out-obscured me. For lunch, I tend to go for fretwork from Gene Bertoncini or Romero Lubambo. I've heard of Hank Marvin -- probably cited in some of those salacious Britrock bios as an "influence" -- but I don't think I've knowingly heard his chops. Back to the Amazon.

After dinner, of course, I'm not concerned with petty atmospherics and harmonic shadings, so I bring out the certifiably insane guitarists -- the sort of thing that makes guests leave early, which is sometimes the point.

Heard of this fellow Bowie, too, I think -- singer, did some work with Eno, right? Had a knife named after him, too.

[rannva]

Erinaceus europaeus didn't even have a name. He/She would only come by for a shot of milk and refused to even sit down on my couch. He/She insisted on standing there on the patio while loudly slurping up drink after drink. Never was able to get on a deeper philosophical level with Erinaceus. He/She was of the quiet kind. Pensive. Now that I think about it maybe he/she was telling me something; be quiet - maybe you'll learn something...

[Joelle]

Who are you kidding, Stephen? You've never vacuumed.

[Misspent]

Ugh, even I think that Cliff Richard is crap. Those of you who are familiar with me will know that my saying this is quite damning.

[chrysostom]

Synergy?