Saturday, February 12, 2011

Spain visited us this afternoon

I was watering my thirsty honeysuckle plant when the doorbell rang. Our cats ran under the bed at the sound of the bell. V opened the door. From the balcony, I could hear him talking to a woman, a religion sales person, perhaps. Poor lady, I thought, V will have no mercy on her. V hates it when people try to sell him religion. A minute later he walked in with this huge packet. Gifts from Spain: Beatles’ Rubber Soul (LP!), a little bit of East Berlin, a little bit of punk,  and vida.


Thank you, Noemi. I haven't been this high in such a long time. Thank you..


1977
When my older sister was not playing the hell out of her James Taylor records, she would let me listen to her stereo. It was on that stereo that I listened for the first time to Michelle on the radio. I didn’t know who the Beatles were. I imagined an old man wearing a black vest and a white shirt singing this song. Only an old man would repeatedly say I love you, I love you, I love you. I didn’t have many possessions back then, except for a book with more than 400 pages I had found in the trash, a blue bra that waited patiently to fit my breast, a scar on my leg that wouldn’t heal, a library card, and this old man’s song that said, I need to I need to, I need to…..

(Dammit, Noemi, I even love the smell of the record)


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