Saturday, February 5, 2011

I hope you like jammin' too

The best thing that's happened lately, happened today.  This is a multi-layered goodness.  Dynamic and changing as change is required.  It isn't that the Jam in it's purest form-with funky beats that would make David Garibaldi jealous and keyboard play that would resurrect Beethoven's hearing- wasn't good enough.  Nay to that as I could have played with and BS'd Dev and Van all day and night and twice on Saturday.  But sometimes fortune smiles on us.  In this case it smiled widely.



So the two positive flowest dudes that have likely ever stepped into cowboy boots and aviator shades descended on the spot.  Like the coming storm, who's smell through the sunshine announces itself abruptly, so too did these two arrive.  With acoustic guitars in hand, they strode through the gate to our back yard musical mecca.  Instantly everything slowed down.  Positive flow, like lowriders, ride a little slower.  Reynaldo and Steven.  Po-flo.  With a tight t'shirt, brown skin, an exotic name, wholly reflective shades, and to my delight cowboy boots, Reynaldo arrived with his own theme song.  It might have been my imagination, but I think it was the same one Clint Eastwood carried to his duels.  As it turned out, copyright laws were in no danger of being broken because Reynaldo not only had his own songs, but his own chords!  That's right.  "Hey Reynaldo, what are you playing?"

"I don't know bruh.  That's a Reynaldo chord."  Effin Sweet!

Sweet shades


Before introductions were satisfactorily pronounced, what could have been a jam session in an alternate dimension quickly morphed into show and tell a recital.  Dev listened, rapt.  I layed in the weeds with Vanessa, tentative in my approach to this greatness.  When the dulcet sounds raised me from my perch like a charmed cobra, I mindlessly and helplessly drew near.  Dev and I shared a look.  In other circumstances it could have been construed as the confusion that only comes with certain knowledge of love at first site.  We were not the object of eachothers love.  We were sharing a moment of singular brilliance.  Steven, casually cool in a mock sleeved baseball shirt and pretty effin cool glasses let his song pour forth.  I looked around, hopeful that a neighbor, or some passerby could bear witness.  Alas, it was not to be.

So, all kidding aside, we had a great time.  Devastation is an understatement when describing the percussion at hand.  For those of you who know about po flo, I hope you enjoyed.  For those of you who were there, you know what po flo is.  For the rest of us, this portrait of a life in free fall is coming into focus.  Life is good, even when you are falling.

Thanks to Dev, Van, Steve, and Ron for the Jam and good times.  Especially Dev and Van for opening their home and instruments.  There was too much to do it justice in a blurb, but if you're wondering about the Terrence Trent D'Arby...We went there.  Face!

2 comments:

Devoney said...

Word! Thanks for the shout out. Po Flo was easy like a sunday morning heart attack.

Time for another musical day in paradise. Good times..

Cwatts said...

I'm dying at that. Literally spitting out my coffee and I'm not even drinking any yet. Good to see you on board with the portrait finally.