Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Did Coltrane Blow a Sax or Horn?

I'm not sure what I think about the people who bare their souls and personal lives online. A part of me enjoys it and wants to participate, showing the world how unique and identical we are to each other but another part feels detached: Why should I share with you the most precious and insecure moments of my life, if I don't know you?

So, for now, I'll post a crazy daydream I had:

[[ Start film reel. ]]

Guy at home, sitting in the dark of his office. A soft halo of light from his desk lamp illuminates him and his immediate surroundings. He's got both arms on the desk, leaning forward, clicking and listening to music off the internet and his own files. Tie loosed, business jacket tossed over the back of his chair. Beer in hand.

"Oh, yea, here it is," he says. John Coltrane's 'Naima' warms the room, flowing from the speakers, crossing the room to the leather chair and caressing it's backside as it waifted out the room. To the kitchen. Where a less empty beer could be found. The man stands and sways around his desk and out the room. The tensions of his day were long gone and the night was his and his alone.

When we see him come into the kitchen, we can barely hear the muffled Coltrane. Instead the man is carrying the tune on his lips, blaring lazily at a make-shift horn. He scuffles his feet in lazy dance moves, placing the empty bottle on the counter and swinging open the fridgerator door. As he reaches in, his heart and lungs are seized with panic. A screaming terror shocks his nerves from the safe haven they'd been resting in.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

John Coltrane played the saxophone and it was in the late 50's that he composed the wonderful "Naima" He named that song after his wife.

But none of this matters, dear Kate.

What's important is that you are such a talented writer.

With just that brief wisp of a daydream, you transported me back half-a-century.

Late night radio was turned low so as not to wake our four-year-old son and Two-year-old daughter ... my young husband's arms held me close as we moved slowly across the kitchen lineoleum ... dancing to that slow sweet ballad. Naima.

I was in a safe haven of my own that long-ago night. Defenses were all down. I had no way of knowing my happiness was about to end.

Would I have made different choices in the beginning if I had known great sadness lay waiting up ahead? No ...

The music was sweet and the memories live on.