Tuesday, September 16, 2003
IN LIEU OF MUNDANE CACOPHANY
What will you be doing two Fridays from now? If you are afraid you will find yourself at home, alone, and aching for something to do, might I extend an invitation for you to join me and company at a local coffee shop on the corner of Robson and Main Street in Mesa?
You will like this place. It's an old house that has been converted into an eclectic collection of mismatched paraphernalia. An old stuffy 2-story house; on the inside, it is filled to the gills, and bursting at the seams with Victorian antiques, decrepit books, old but comfy couches, and decent fare to satisfy the average caffeine-addicted palate.
I welcome you to sit outside in the cool weather once you have made your rounds about the house and and settled into the second chapter of your cafe late, or whatever it is you drink at typical coffee houses. Make your way outside and join me on the patio. It's intimate and quiet, secluded and dim, but lightly peppered with tiny white lights about the courtyard creating a romantic aura for those who are feeling amorous..
In the middle of the courtyard, there will be a small stage. Look about you, I will be there... seated in rapt attention. On the stage, there will be a small accoustic ensemble playing- two simple guys from Oregon- who left all behind to pursue a music career in the most unlikely place- Arizona. I don't know them personally, but I met them a weekend ago, at the end of their show when Shannon and I introduced ourselves and purchased an album to encourage their efforts.
They play the guitar and the bongo drum. The union of their soulful voices and instruments will produce a sound so aesthetically pleasing to the ear it will linger with you long after the night is over.
You will hear Man #1, the lead singer, sing in a deep baritone voice that will send warm rays of sun to the quiet recesses of your mind, the places we often neglect for lack of time and focus. You will be moved by his vibrato, which is rich and full; it comes from deep inside that place where our emotions lie in a microburst of ambiguity, and rises to the surface in a soothing arrangment of notes. Before you know it, you'll find yourself delightfully entangled in the mesmeric pattern of his fingers strumming.
You will see Man #2, the percussionist, mete a simple beat to Man # 1's guitar and voice. Occasionally, he will harmonize and create a milk-and-honey, cookies-and-cream-like amalgamating effect, complimenting his friend and partner.
You will close your eyes and smile deep inside you and be glad you came.
Don't be alarmed when you see they are young. 19 and 20 I am told. Listen and you will hear the wisdom of the ages woven into the tapestry of their lyrics and music and concur they are wise, and filled with a sagacity more commonly seen in men twice their age.
Won't you join me? I will be there... waiting. To make it interesting, don't purposely seek me out. Perhaps we will just unknowingly encounter each other, inhaling
-the lights
-the sights
-the sound
... and it will suffice.
What will you be doing two Fridays from now? If you are afraid you will find yourself at home, alone, and aching for something to do, might I extend an invitation for you to join me and company at a local coffee shop on the corner of Robson and Main Street in Mesa?
You will like this place. It's an old house that has been converted into an eclectic collection of mismatched paraphernalia. An old stuffy 2-story house; on the inside, it is filled to the gills, and bursting at the seams with Victorian antiques, decrepit books, old but comfy couches, and decent fare to satisfy the average caffeine-addicted palate.
I welcome you to sit outside in the cool weather once you have made your rounds about the house and and settled into the second chapter of your cafe late, or whatever it is you drink at typical coffee houses. Make your way outside and join me on the patio. It's intimate and quiet, secluded and dim, but lightly peppered with tiny white lights about the courtyard creating a romantic aura for those who are feeling amorous..
In the middle of the courtyard, there will be a small stage. Look about you, I will be there... seated in rapt attention. On the stage, there will be a small accoustic ensemble playing- two simple guys from Oregon- who left all behind to pursue a music career in the most unlikely place- Arizona. I don't know them personally, but I met them a weekend ago, at the end of their show when Shannon and I introduced ourselves and purchased an album to encourage their efforts.
They play the guitar and the bongo drum. The union of their soulful voices and instruments will produce a sound so aesthetically pleasing to the ear it will linger with you long after the night is over.
You will hear Man #1, the lead singer, sing in a deep baritone voice that will send warm rays of sun to the quiet recesses of your mind, the places we often neglect for lack of time and focus. You will be moved by his vibrato, which is rich and full; it comes from deep inside that place where our emotions lie in a microburst of ambiguity, and rises to the surface in a soothing arrangment of notes. Before you know it, you'll find yourself delightfully entangled in the mesmeric pattern of his fingers strumming.
You will see Man #2, the percussionist, mete a simple beat to Man # 1's guitar and voice. Occasionally, he will harmonize and create a milk-and-honey, cookies-and-cream-like amalgamating effect, complimenting his friend and partner.
You will close your eyes and smile deep inside you and be glad you came.
Don't be alarmed when you see they are young. 19 and 20 I am told. Listen and you will hear the wisdom of the ages woven into the tapestry of their lyrics and music and concur they are wise, and filled with a sagacity more commonly seen in men twice their age.
Won't you join me? I will be there... waiting. To make it interesting, don't purposely seek me out. Perhaps we will just unknowingly encounter each other, inhaling
-the lights
-the sights
-the sound
... and it will suffice.
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