There wasn't much action at the floating book shop today. My thanks to the two women who bought, and the one who donated. Here's another excerpt form my as yet unpublished rock n roll epic, Rising Star. It's about a five-minute read:
15 "...Whip it good...."*
Lamour was empty as Paul arrived. It'd been a while since he'd been there. The stage was to the right, bar to the left, a large space of open floor in between. There was seating only in the area behind the bar. The interior was plain and unpolished, a perfect setting for metal.
Two young women, one white, one Asian, approached and passed him, smiling. He assumed they were cocktail waitresses. The Asian was in a black body suit, black panty-hose and black space boots. The other, tall and pale, was wearing tight black leather pants, black, fingerless gloves; black sleeveless T-shirt; black high heel boots; studded armbands and necklace; and light chains. Each of her fingers, even the thumbs, had a ring on it. Her long dark hair fell well beyond her sturdy shoulders.
Paul felt the blood coursing through his veins as he looked at her. He hadn't been as attracted to a girl since he'd met Gina.
"You the only one here," said Susan, appearing suddenly.
He started.
"Relax. Are you really that nervous?"
"This's big."
"How'd practice go?"
"Better, but we're still not where we were."
"You'd better be good. I want to be headlining here before the new year."
"I listened to the records. I really enjoyed 'em, to my surprise. I even put some tracks on cassette. I assumed she was just another boring folk-rock protestor from the sixties."
"She started writing about herself and touched the universal in all humanity."
"Centerpiece' is unbelievable, the way she turned the meaning of the original around. That's one of my father's favorites. He loved her version until he realized how the 'Harry's House' part changes the whole meaning. He had it rough as a kid. He won't listen to anything but pop, romance or Italian folk songs."
They discussed the lyrics of certain tracks.
"I can't believe anybody can be that perceptive an' deep within the confinements of a song. It's like readin' short stories by a great writer. It makes me feel like a total amateur."
"I've cried to those records more than once."
Paul looked into her eyes. "I'd pay to see that."
"You really listened," she said, beside herself.
"I'm trying to be more open-minded. I always thought 'Help Me' was a mindless pop song 'til I listened to it with the headset and lyric sheet. The theme knocked me out - what's more important, love or freedom? I useta think she was sayin' love made you free, but it doesn't, does it? It's great, but it makes things tough at the same time."
"I can definitely relate to it."
"An' she extended the theme through the other albums without makin' it sound repetitive. She's constantly runnin' away to keep her freedom, even though she's dyin' for love. The shot of her with the highway runnin' through her body is dead on. An' Larry Carlton's guitar work is beautiful."
"Now you're talking. I'll lend you some Wes Montgomery and Stanley Jordan so you can hear some genuine artistry."
"You're gonna think I'm crazy, but I see a correlation between Mitchell an' Led Zeppelin."
"You are crazy."
"Their styles are totally different, but the theme of 'movement' is the same, only she moves to escape commitment, while they move to escape boredom. I had no idea they had a recurring theme 'til I listened to Mitchell. I thank you for that."
"Why do you have such a fixation with those hacks?"
"Because when Page is at his best he communicates an unbelievable depth of feeling. His great leads are precise from start to finish. There's never a wasted note. A lotta guys are quick, but feeling's what sets him apart. When I look at that emaciated mother...., I can't believe he's capable of what he does. He should look like a good. Even the bad songs have fun riffs to play."
"There are so many guitarists who blow him away."
The waitress passed, smiling as she carried a tray that held a package of cigarettes and a peculiar doll. Paul followed her with his eyes as she approached the service bar at the other side of the floor, where she lit a long, white-filtered cigarette.
"You never cease to surprise me," said Susan, amused.
He lowered his head. "Sorry. It's tough not havin' a girlfriend. What was that on the tray?"
"An Ewok."
His face went blank.
"From 'Star Wars.'"
"Oh. I didn't see it. I don't like that space stuff."
"I would've thought space movies and metal went hand in hand."
"Not for me. I like movies and songs about people. Where's Mitchell, by the way?"
"Parking the car. It may take a while, if you know what I mean. They were apart a week. We picked her up at the studio."
"By the way, there's a song on the new wave tape - 'Mirror in the Bathroom.' It's unbelievable, so beautiful for such a dark theme. An’ the sax! That's what a woody'd sound like if it could be played."
"That girl's gone to your head, figuratively as well as literally."
He flushed. "That's the first time I ever heard you joke, and it almost went right past me. It's the type of humor people expect from me. Maybe there's hope for you after all."
She begrudged a slight smile. "Every time I think there may be hope for you you dispel it immediately."
Even John was early and anxious to go, although he would not help with the dirty work. Susan brought Bonnie to the office with her, to Mitchell's consternation.
"Relax," said Paul. "I bet she's only usin' her to make us look good. Maybe if they watch the soap they'll think of us. You don't really believe Susan'd encourage her to do anything bad when she belongs to you?"
Mitchell did not respond.
"C'mon! She's not gonna do anything stupid now that she has you and that part. What's the matter with you?"
"Bonnie Stevens," said Mitchell contemptuously. "I could ring her neck."
Paul was about to reply, then decided against it.
"The show's crap. It's beneath her."
"You didn't tell her that?"
"You think she doesn't know?"
"She's gotta start somewhere, just like us. Maybe you're jealous she's way ahead of us right now."
Mitchell stormed away. Paul admonished himself. It was no way to prepare for a show.
Visit Vic's sites:
Vic's Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic's Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
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