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Friday, June 14, 2013

For Father’s Day … a Kidhood Memory


I’d heard so many stories of my father... the elegant jazz vagabond, the fine pomaded dandy who dressed to the nines, and who had people lined up to see him play in every city, every town and every state.

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He held court like royalty. He was far too important and much too busy, so he didn’t always attend to the needs of those tedious subjects who comprised his family.

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Back then, I was just a kid. Between him and my mother, I didn’t know of their marital politics, and I couldn’t decipher the strange, algebraic equation that formed my parents’ private life. And so, in those first five years, I’d had no real or touchable memory of a life with my father, at least, not in the physical sense. And then there came that moment, when a boy sees, digests, and processes it all, and it’s then that he falls in love with his father.

I was six. I vividly remember it. He was stepping off the train from Cleveland, carrying a small brown reptilian suitcase and a larger, more elongated one that held his prized trumpet. He appeared to be very big to my small eyes. He was statuesque and more handsome than all those shiny-men emoting from our small, black and white TV set. This was my daddy, my Pops, damn it—looking like no one else I’d ever seen! It was as if he were from another planet, man… a planet called Cool.

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You could hear the music in him when he walked. A sound like a snare drum’s beat with its own unique syncopation seemed to reside inside of him. It lived in the carefree sway of his shoulders and resounded in the bop of his stride. I remember thinking, this is what I come from... this is what I could be! He was an outstanding example of a man. He was... magnificent!

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It was more than the stylish cut and taper of his blue, double-breasted, pinstriped suit. It was more than that mysterious fedora which shaded his face in a way that was dramatic and subdued; and it was more than those fancy spectator shoes he wore, which made that lively tapping noise.

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There was a certain quality, a magical sheen to his rich copper skin, and it seemed a corona glowed all around him. He moved in the slowest motion towards us. Everyone else around him was rushing swiftly to those places strangers go, and yet, he was gliding. I’d never seen a colored man glide before.

Yes, I was falling in love with my father; falling in love with a flowing vision kissed by a corona of light. He appeared to represent some extension of myself. And thus my love affair began with a revelation in a natty-blue suit.

His love for me was always an enigma, shaded under a sly fedora.

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From Like Litter In The Wind By L.M. Ross

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16 comments:

Val said...

Just when I think you cannot amaze me anymore than you already have, you amaze me again, Lin.

Moanerplicity said...

@ Val:

Thank you so much. I really tried to put my BEST stuff into this work.


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A Free Spirit Butterfly said...

BEAUTIFUL written...once again, reading intensely and then-you stopped me in my tracks. Cannot wait to get home to get into my copy :-)

LOVE FOR A GREAT WEEKEND!
China Doll

Moanerplicity said...

@ China:

Thank You, My Friend. Hope you'll enjoy the read... & furthermore hope you're kept busy snatchin' much JOY on this Father's Day weekend.


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Anna Renee said...

*CHEESING BRIGHTLY*

Moanerplicity said...

@M P. A. M-M.:

*Cheesin' bacatcha, yo*


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Lovebabz said...

Oh you do so know how to capture my attention! I was all in baby!

It is on my immediate Summer read list!

Moanerplicity said...

@Lovebabz:

Thanks for the support, my Sista. Please let me know your impressions (even the gut reactions) when you're done.

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iama[GAY]keeper said...

was thinking this should be in a movie, damn I REALLY need to buy your book

Moanerplicity said...

@ Gayte-keeper:

Definitely some cinematic moments inside... if you ever read it, you'll see what I mean. ;-)


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Roger Poladopoulos said...

My blogging brother, when I first read that passage from "Like Litter In The Wind," I immediately conjured a feeling of Father's Day, and the thoughts that particular time of year bring to mind. Great post, SUPER terrific novel by an amazing and awesome literary genius! Naked hugs and much love!

Moanerplicity said...

@ Roger:

Thanks for that supreme compliment, my friend. No false modesty here. Just not sure if the word 'genius' truly applies to me, but I really DO appreciate that you've enjoyed my work. :-D


SJ on your vaca!

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Reggie said...

Beautifully written.

The best thing that I've ever done in my life or ever will was being a father to my son and daughter.

Moanerplicity said...

@ Reggie:

Thanks mane. Fatherhood is a awesome & noble gig. It is also a privilege & a daunting responsibility far too many fail at so miserably.


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Alieux (Daij) said...

Love this piece! You are a great writer! And Reggie, love your response!



Moanerplicity said...

@ Daij:

Thanks for the compliment. Agreed... Reggie's reply was definitely on-point.

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