Has this ever happened to you?
You have a tape. There’s no marking on it. Its contents are not identified in any way. You and your new lover play it all the time. Especially, it seems, while cooking dinner. You have no idea who you are listening to.
The lady sticks to me like white on rice. She never cooks the same way twice.
Eventually the tape wears out, or it is no more. You’d like to replace it. You wonder who and what it was.
I can’t reveal her name but eggplant is her game.
But these are the days before the Internet. You don’t really have many friends who are into jazz, and maybe, at the time, you wouldn’t’ve even classified it as jazz.
Maybe its the way she grates her cheese or just the freckles on her knees.
Almost a decade passes, and you are having dinner with friends. There is a voice coming from their stereo speakers that is familiar. It must be Him. Your friends tell you it is Michael Franks, and yes, you are talking about The Art of Tea, and no, they don’t have that one.
You get it as soon as you can. To this day, you still like to play it while preparing food. Or just about any other time.
When my baby cooks her eggplant,
she don’t read no book.
She’s got a Giocanna kinda of dirty look.
And my baby cooks her eggplant
’Bout nineteen different ways.
Sometimes I just have it raw with mayonnaise.
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2 comments:
What a great tale. While reading this I shouted out Michael Franks like I was at a quiz bowl.
Glad you reconnected with The Art of Tea... a Sunday night favorite of mine.
lolololo: I wish I could have asked you in the late 80s! I swear, after the next entry, I'll move away from Franks for awhile...
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