My ride forgot to pick me up. I was supposed to have gone to Lava Shack in Pahoa. It is jam night with drummer extraordinaire Bruce as host. Bruce was supposed to have stopped by for me on his way to Lava Shack.
I love jam nights. There is no repertoire. Everything is impromptu. Musicians come and go. Strangely, maybe because they know each other or have even played with each other, they manage to play well together; as if an amount of practice was made.
Crazed dancer that I am I didn't think twice about going to the gig after I had been assured of a ride. Besides I believe, like I had claimed on the promo poster I made for the gig, that it will be an exceptionally good night for dancing.
But with eyes no longer as sharp as they once were I dare not brave driving at night, especially in the rain and after a party. So now I'm appropriately garbed, perfumed and coiffured and stuck in the house; that is, if I look at it that way.
I'm actually loving the way the evening is turning out. With the strains from a lone guitar in the background, here I am typing away. And In a way I'm dancing. Here's that dip in my Tango.
From another view, the sudden change in my evening could have been ordained, a blessing. Synchronicity?
Maybe I was meant to deliver a message, a reminder of our dual nature and how each of them is in constant struggle for supremacy over the other.
Posted with Aloha!
- ARIEL MURPHY