Andrew, very real and activates so many memories in a vivid way with all
the senses running.
On Wed, May 31, 2017 at 7:52 AM, Andrew Burke <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Hey, Doug, I had a similar 'haibun' thought myself - so I shall give it a
> shot.
>
> Patrick - some parts colourful, some parts stupid and some parts sad. My
> life story could be interesting if I had the energy left to write it!
>
> Thanks, Bill - a touching moment for sure! I still know that girl/woman.
>
> Any further comments?
>
>
> Andrew
>
> On 31 May 2017 at 22:45, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> > The memories emerge, the stories you recall about what happened to you
> > then, & they’re good ones (making clear how memory is a form of
> > story-telling to the self), Andrew.
> >
> > I think you come close to making a kind of haibun with the first one
> > ending with those song phrases, & perhaps attempting something along
> those
> > lines would tighten the memories even further?
> >
> > (also, that stand by the bandstand?)
> >
> > Doug
> > > On May 31, 2017, at 6:51 AM, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]>
> > wrote:
> > >
> > > Like particularly the realisation of head on shoulder, Andrew.
> > >
> > > Bill
> > >
> > > On Wed, 31 May 2017 at 9:49 pm, Patrick McManus <
> > > [log in to unmask]> wrote:
> > >
> > >> Andrew thanks for those glimpses your youth seems to be more colourful
> > >> than mine!!!
> > >>
> > >>
> > >> On 31/05/2017 11:23, Andrew Burke wrote:
> > >>> ~
> > >>>
> > >>> Someone back then called her my ‘jazz chick’ – I was in the last year
> > of
> > >>> school and she worked at some clerical job, studying Italian at night
> > >>> school to advance herself. We met at *Dixie for Dancing *at the
> > Claremont
> > >>> Football Club where the Riverside Jazz Band played Dixieland and
> > quieter
> > >>> dance tunes. St Louis Blues was always a favourite, trumpet in Joshua
> > Fit
> > >>> the Battle of Jericho, the growling trombone on Tiger Rag, and Mama
> > Don’t
> > >>> Allow where all the band members played a short solo. I’d buy my
> ticket
> > >> off
> > >>> Heidi at the door (the pianist’s wife), stand at the side of the band
> > >>> stand, listening to the band and watching the drummer, until the last
> > >>> couple of numbers for the night when I would suddenly realise what I
> > was
> > >>> there for – and go to ask - shyly and awkwardly – a girl to dance. A
> > >> turn
> > >>> down would finish the night for me! But an acceptance would mean
> > holding
> > >> a
> > >>> girl in my arms, making small talk, telling lies (who’s going to
> admit
> > >>> still being at school) and, palm sweating, trying to move my feet in
> an
> > >>> acceptable dance-like fashion. Ah, the nerves were at fever pitch!
> > >>>
> > >>> I don’t remember the first dance with my Jazz Chick. I remember we
> met
> > >>> again the second week, and at last she rested her head on my shoulder
> > as
> > >> we
> > >>> danced under dim light at the end of the night. Oh such small steps
> to
> > a
> > >>> passionate romance! The music soon faded into the background and
> Friday
> > >>> nights became a red hot date with long kisses and much groping and
> > >>> passionate expressions of love on the back seat of my mother’s car. I
> > >>> learnt the intricacies of bra backs and suspender belts clipping on
> to
> > >>> stocking tops more than paradiddles and trading eights!
> > >>>
> > >>> *Mama don't 'low no shimmy-shakin' here.*
> > >>>
> > >>> *You can't shake your shimmy, shake some'n' else.*
> > >>>
> > >>> -
> > >>>
> > >>> *Washboard Sam*
> > >>>
> > >>> ~
> > >>>
> > >>> Language keeps changing and growing. As does jazz. As do we. I
> wandered
> > >> to
> > >>> Sydney and back over a couple of years, frequented El Rocco when I
> was
> > >>> there – and then returned to Perth, looking for a jazz club. I found
> > The
> > >>> Hole in the Wall Jazz Club which was linked to the theatre of the
> same
> > >>> name. It was a key club which played recorded jazz during the week
> and
> > >> live
> > >>> jazz on weekends. I found it and stayed! Each night I was there,
> > drinking
> > >>> booze and listening to a rich assortment of jazz styles – MJQ, Miles
> > >> Davis,
> > >>> Bill Evans, Mose Allison, Coltrane … on Friday nights it was mainly a
> > >> solo
> > >>> pianist; Saturday a house trio with sit-ins from all the clubs around
> > >> town
> > >>> as the musos finished work and looked for somewhere to jam; Sunday
> > night
> > >>> developed into home night for the Keith Stirling Quintet or Sextet
> > >> playing
> > >>> the latest developments in jazz. It was home away from home for me
> and
> > I
> > >>> spent every night there until they closed in the wee small hours of
> the
> > >>> morning.
> > >>>
> > >>> One night the owners of the club asked me to meet them the following
> > >> night,
> > >>> alone, earlier than usual. I turned up, a little nervous – alone
> > (without
> > >>> my girlfriend who I had met there). The guys sat me down, put on some
> > >> cool
> > >>> jazz, and faced me. “Do you want some tea?’ One of them asked, and I
> > >>> swiftly replied, ‘No thanks, I’ll have coffee.’ ‘Not that kind of
> tea,
> > >> you
> > >>> idiot - *tea* you smoke.’ Ah, marijuana. I had read enough jazz
> > magazines
> > >>> and poetry and novels to know exactly want they meant. And it was
> cool
> > to
> > >>> be offered some tea – so I accepted. So I was accepted into a little
> > >> clique
> > >>> who imported weed and hash – plus some cheap lines of watches,
> perfumes
> > >> etc
> > >>> – from Asia. We had our in-group secrets and our own jokes and
> lingo. I
> > >> was
> > >>> home *further* away from home in what I believed was a true jazz
> world.
> > >>>
> > >>>
> > >>>
> > >>> Andrew
> > >>> http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
> > >>> Books available through Walleah Press
> > >>> http://walleahpress.com.au
> > >>
> >
> > Douglas Barbour
> > [log in to unmask]
> > https://eclecticruckus.wordpress.com/
> >
> > Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations & Continuations
> > 2 (UofAPress).
> > Recording Dates (Rubicon Press).
> > Listen. If (UofAPress):
> >
> > I go down to the Twilight Arcade
> > and watch the Martian invaders,
> > already appalled by our language,
> > pointing at what they want.
> >
> > Bill Manhire
> >
>
>
>
> --
> Andrew
> http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
> Books available through Walleah Press
> http://walleahpress.com.au
>
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