December 10, 2005

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                       Pearlbamboo Finally Meets Acie Cargill, 
                              of the three word emails and lots of songs.

  Those of you around for a while know that I encountered Acie last winter, Februrary to be exact, when he appeared in my inbox in a singles site.   Acie is truly an original, and is as terse and laconic in written language as he is poetic in his many, many songs.  (you can hear snippits and find out more about his take on music and the Kentucky balladeer tradition that informs it at www.aciecargill.com)

  Acie was in want of electronics for his recording endeavors.  I helped him acquire them and they were misdelivered to my place.   Eager for his new toy, he volunteered to drive up and pick it up.   K.

  As he rounded the last of the 4 flights of stairs to my apartment, he looked up, didn't lower his eyes, although he was nonconfrontational, and as he hit the landing, said, "You're beautiful.  You are truly beautiful....."  his voice touched with a little bit of wonder.   I do think it was the light from the skylight in the hall on my hair, but will not reject the compliment. 

  While he was here, I played two of my pieces on soundclick for him, as he was thinking of using me as a reader on the current cd.   He's a quiet man unless he's singing and just looked at me after PSTD was over, then burbled, "You're amazing, you are amazing... you are Amazing!!!" and added a wish that I would allow him to set some of my poems to music or write background music for them.   K.

  He's playing a concert tomorrow afternoon in northern Indiana.  I'm taking the south shore line rail line there (built originally to connect Chicago with the Indiana Dunes State Park and its beaches) and will hang out with his manager who has become a friend, although we will not meet for the first time until she pulls up at the train station.

  Adventures, Lily is having a little adventure.

  For new readers, here's a piece about Acie, written last February or March.  Hypersexuality is often a part of his persona, but by always focusing on his music when we converse, it no longer interferes as I've described here.......

   

  "Only connect. That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer. Only connect." E.M. Forrester. Howard's End
  
  
  Pearl Negotiates With the Songwriter
  Who Tries To Change the Parameters
  
  Peeved by her talk of the music, her refusal to engage in one way cyber sex play, he goes off to do something more useful, feed the dogs, write a song, shuck corn, whistle in the dark, the list could go on. He's walked away from reciprocity, exchange, giving self with no expectation, the gift that flows back covered in love, insisting on reducing her to p--sy, himself to dick, a reduction that in the heat of passion can turn two into essence of human as pure and rich as boiled down stock for French soup with fine herbs, but doesn't work well in instant messenger, never.
  
  And there he goes, singing that one note tune the dear man hides behind, the dick song, laaaaaaaaa, never moving from the fifth above the tonic, leaving her with really great feelings, yeah - fury, bewilderment, amusement, rage - and this laaaaaaaaa in her ear. Especially that laaaaaaaaa in her ear.
  
  How can she hold all this at once? I'll tell you this much. The combination makes her want to reach through this f-----g little box and put her hand over his mouth and hold his wrists in her other hand and pin him with her green-rimmed eyes and say firmly in a strident voice, "TWO. Two. There are two of us here and as hard as it is for you to grasp this, take it in! I'm not just pussy! I'm your effing muse!" then kiss the son of a bitch... . 

  Once.

  Me.

  And I'm never attracted to blondes...
  
  And so he takes this in another form and pastes it into his website, in disregard of its revelations, telling her that the words are too good to waste, and not one word more.

  Only connect."
  
  
  
  pearlbamboo

  copyright    e.p.hodges

  • 2:10 pm
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