Saturday, March 31, 2007

cigarettes and ignorance


RSS feeds are one of the best things since sliced bread. Sitting at this café the other day and the signature smoke in hand, I was reading through some of my friend's blogs. Agreed, I'm not one to post very often. Mahesh does it quite often and the others… well I must admit, I check just out of curiosity.

Between smoke rings, I almost choked on an article this bird wrote. She might have a certain command over the language, but it is interesting to note the way she covers her lack of substance with metaphors. But hey, I neither have a degree in English nor do I profess the superiority in prose.So that was a let down. Here was a bird I thought could pull herself together and write something worthwhile.. le sigh.. I suppose not. The ashtray is filing up quickly. I muse over what Gene Hunt would have said about all this. Have you seen the TV show 'Life on Mars' ? Its an amazing Brit drama. When it comes to humor, you have to give it to the British to come up with something spectacular. I've always been partial due to our old colonial ties. And fuck you all, the new SMS generation. Get your spellings right… yeah you too you bleeding Americans!

The waitress, a buxom blonde with a rather perky dispossession refills my cup as I complete my latest achievement, The Alchemist. Honestly, it was rather plain. An interesting philosophical take on a few things, but I'd prefer the English Patient. Hmm.. I wonder what her name is again.. Stacie? Shelly? Crap I should pay more attention the next time. The clock strikes 6, twilight. People start to fill up the streets as the waitress begins to place little candles on each table. Younge Street slowly comes to life and you can almost hear it like the approach of an oncoming train.


Sunday, March 04, 2007

In Memory Of...


It was a Thursday night, and I was restless and disturbed. Nothing new, just another day in the life of J. But there was something about that night, couldn't put my finger on it. It just wasn't right. I was fresh out of my vices, the liquor cabinet empty, the tobacco sachet bare, my list of friends, incommunicado.

Wolf had left me a message earlier in the day to be careful of the storm and to take care driving under the conditions. I didn't call him back. I didn't know the number at the hospital. Another excuse.

He died later that day. I got a call late Saturday, but since I was hibernating all day, I didn't get to it till Sunday afternoon. In a way it was a relief, in a way I was crushed. The last time I saw him, he had shown me his hospital release form that was more of a death sentence. He as disturbed by it and hadn't slept a wink for the last two days. I spent the rest of the evening with him, till 'Bathroom Divas' was over. The last sight I have of him, smiling, his blue eyes twinkling, completely out of place in an aged body. His gruff voice saying 'Maybe I will be able to see you a few times more.'

He was a friend. A good friend, that I had the privilege of knowing for a few short period of time ( a shy of three years ). Art, literature, music and a hearty conversation was all he asked during the last few years of his life. Over the time I've known him, I came to learn a great deal from this odd gentleman. His matter of fact dialogues, his fatherly concern , and his joy in sharing what little he thought he had to offer. Fine wines, Benny Goodmann, Red Dwarf, Frank Lloyd Wright, Saint-Exupéry.. are some glimpses of a once alien world he introduced me to.

He is in a better place now. Although knowing Wolf, and being a staunch atheist, he would have argued otherwise. I will miss him dearly. But as they say 'Everything is eventual' as is the passing of friends.

So it begins.. The watcher waits, the watcher notes. Ever vigilant.


Wolf C.Simon
1933 - 2007