DINAH WASHINGTON DOES THAT TO YOU

More accurately, DINAH WASHINGTON WILL DO THAT TO YOU, but it woudln't fit in the centered bold italic headline letter in one line so I compromised for now.  As that's at least the third title I've thought of for my thoughts in the last hour since taking a break conducting music research and correcting music files on the computer.  More correcting actually.  I just had to take another break as the title of the Faye Carol [Faye Carol website or Faye Carol wiki bio] CD song I selected was not correct and neither were any of the titles.  I really hate that.  And its' not her, happens on others as well.  Stop the presses - the website is active and looks fresh and she looks fresh and even better than my memory of seeing her on Sunday afternoons at a small piano bar cabaret in the Castro with lover #1.  Sometimes we could walk less than a block and see Sylvester blowing down the house at another bar.  But that's not what I am writing about, but I am going to have to further research Faye Carol imminently.  

By the way there's a poem coming, but you have to either read this first unless you are too busy or demanding.  

Started today with a wonderful hike in beautiful weather.  We can now hike both sides of the Arroyo Seco with less caution as the homeless tent encampment between the freeway and the Arroyo has vanished in the months since I last hiked with Beau and Haley together.  I never did take Haley alone and leave Beau at home as I contemplated.  This is now our week anniversary of the new 3X/week excluding weekends and holidays hikes I plan with Haley.  According to the neighbor tensions and rivalry (over who knows what -  sex partners, drugs, alcohol, noise, food and favors) I had noted before as the population and tents increased until someone burned down another tent and  the authorities which I noted had started checking had their justification to clear them all out.  

Since I predicted the day's news I decided  to work on Beau's playlist.  One thing lead to another.  Trying out songs, than other versions of those songs, then songs they reminded me of, then searching for songs I knew were stored but not showing up in searches.  And correcting what I found.  And ripping my extensive Dinah Washington CD collection onto the computer (the external drive actually) when I was shocked to discover that I did not have ANY version of "I Could Write A Book" stored much less Dinah's iconic and my favorite version.  The context is in the "A Surreal Day in the Life" post but as I've become more immune to morbidity and enjoy? not really relish - something about I like to tell the story and it gets briefer and thus more morbid with each telling.  As the (sensitive yet spike haired not quite youthful gotta be dyke) vet remarked that Beau should be asleep by now after infecting half the fluids, Beau yanked out the needle, licked some of the drops that flew through the air, and  gave me one of his let's go have fun looks.  The dry witted vet remarked "Beau just wrote the book" as he became the first dog in the known history of that facility to do so.  Thus, of course the reason this song HAS to be on his playlist and I have neglected adding it all week.  And there being no reason not to, I copied all the Dinah, which was most of her, not already copied.  I didn't bother looking at the vinyl collection to discern the differences or absences in either collection.  And yes the ONLY reason I just wrote that sentence was to brag about my vinyl collection as well.

So the positive outlook is that I did not spend the day reading media sites on the net nor watching TV all day.  However, neither did I do anything on my list, starting with completing the computer reinstallation which will enable be to start doing everything else on the list much easier.  But, and you can thank Faye Carol for the following succinctness that just may save me paragraphs of writing around the "bush" and you the reading thereof, for as she now timely sings "ANOTHER TORCH SONG MUST BE SUNG" introducing her incredible version of "You Let Me Down" I was thinking the poem is kind of like a "torch poem".  Who knows if I am inventing a new literary genre, or it has been done, or experts consider no difference between a "torch" poem or song.  Literally, please let me know.  

I need to let you all know right now there will be no Faye Carol song on Beau's playlist; an incorrect song title led to listen to a particular song and after having to correct each title I decided it's great background for writing this because it's not Beau's playlist which would be distracting.

There's one more song I thought of this morning but I forgot it already.  As well as whether there was anything else I wanted to say before Faye timely and generously gave me the succinct segue.  Other than I noted starting yesterday and more today a deeper and different feeling.  And analyzed it as being natural and logical according to nature.  The absence of Beau's misery left me feeling almost euphoric knowing of the absence of his pain, my pride at resolving it and knowledge of doing it timely.  I don't want to mislead,  it increased  gradually each day.  "Only" the last 2 days were the worst and  the basis that convinced me to act.  As well I noted that coincided with my certainty of Haley's taking note of Beau's pain, looking from him to me, and lying with him.  So months of dreading, weeks of fearing, days of knowing it was time.  And wonderful  intimate hours massaging and holding nightly.

So now that I think more of the good times before all that I realize it would only be natural to think more of the years of joy and fulfillment than the days of misery.  And while I have found some songs to add and I am still comparing versions before I finalize, I already realized that many would be more like parody, some would be close, but none would be exact as expected.  So I tried to write my own, and revised and worked on it till tiring of it and being unable to think any longer of the specific revision and adjustments it still needs.  

Some of the others I have written I feel are done, and one or two I feel need more work that I haven't wanted to spend time on; for now I would put this one in the latter category.  Finally, i just remembered I wanted to mention my personal delight and amusement thinking I have written a torch poem and that really lightened me up.  Oh -  and anyone unsure of what is meant by a genre of "torch songs" google or research it, it's too basic for me to ever explain.  You know it or you don't but if you don't you can learn. 

After this poem, I may add all the poli stuff from my FB page which I think I could edit into several articulate essays on the distinct subjects discussed therein.  And below that I can paste and finish the essays and fascinating research I had drafted and almost completed that discussed my thoughts experience and research that all inspired in the period BBD (before Beau died).  I had found some interesting histories of songs and writers.  As interesting as today's find of song I abandoned for the playlist but have copied and pasted to keep of a song Stephen Sondheim wrote for a musical made for TV and broadcast in late 1966.  Maybe I'll write about that next, and withhold the details thinking what a perfect subject for a blog contest that would be.

MEMORIES OF JOY

Now that I find
as nature goes
memories of pain
fade like afterglow

A few last days of misery
start to fade and dim
replaced with thoughts
of so many years
Filled with happiness and joy

Memory of easing his pain now starting to vanish
amid mindful longing for that last peaceful week
and by thoughts of Holding him close
embracing enveloping inhaling infusing
his essence and feel and fur and touch

So now the sadness sets in and deeper it goes
as I start to remember so many years
filled with days of adventure and drama
worry and woe
but mostly of joy and happiness so


for Beau

April 3, 2015