Although my posts have been minimal, my thoughts have not. I’ve been busy researching for TONI O. Sometimes to help put my thoughts in order, I take a walk near the sea because chasing the waves as they come towards the shore can give me a direction I need. Nevertheless, I like to wander so my thoughts continue to come and go.
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Yesterday we learned of Charlie Watts’ death. The Rolling Stones will never be the same again…they’ve lost their beat.
Part of Charlie’s elegance was his modesty. He never indulged in self-adulation. He referred to himself as a copyist. “I learned by watching” he said.
“The challenge with rock and roll is the regularity of it. My thing is to make it a dance sound–it should swing and dance.”
Charlie once punched Mick Jagger for having referred to him as “my drummer”.
Charlie also played jazz. He said playing intensely but very quietly is very hard but very necessary for jazz. It sounds like a philosophy of life.
Today, when I try to keep the rhythm of my internal beat, I will be thinking of Charlie.
Ciao Charlie. Thanks for the example you set.
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Related: Flashback: Martin Scorsese Captures a Charlie Watts–Centric ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’…The clip demonstrates how Watts has quietly served as the backbone of the Rolling Stones for the past 58 years.
Today is the Feast of the Assumption. It is a major holiday in Greece and one way the Greeks prepare for it is by renewing the white paint that outlines the stones of the streets. So for the past few days, sometimes, when walking down the street, you have to dance around the women bent over to paint the white lines (yes, generally the women do it).
Later today there will be a procession starting at the Ekatontapiliani Church near the port. The Epitaph of the Virgin Mary from the church is solemnly paraded along the coastal road. Many people join the procession, others just watch. But everyone everywhere will say to you “Hronia Pola” (many years).
During the day, all of the ferries coming into the harbor blast their horns in celebration.
In the evening there is a spectacular fireworks display that we generally watch from our roof because the streets are so crowded and because that way we are closer to the sky. But I wonder if this year there’ll be fireworks because of all the fires Greece has experienced this summer. The fireworks are sent from a huge boat in the sea so maybe it will be considered safe to do.
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Related: The Streets of Paros + Greece’s Celebration of the Panagia, or Dormition of the Virgin Mary
The heatwave keeps us inside during the day like vampires locked inside their coffins. Then, around 7 p.m., we go to the sea and throw our bodies into the water so we can cool off.
Today the air was very still and the water motionless, flat. And cold. I slowly backstroked along the coast and stared at the clouds that looked like worn out dish clothes cut into strange shapes. Then a Blue Star ferry arrived making the water jump. I’m not into splashes so I went back to the beach and stretched out on my towel. In the direction of Pondrossos was a young man sitting on the beach throwing rocks into the sea. Next to him was a young woman in a white bikini lying belly down. Abruptly the man stopped throwing rocks, stood up, and walked away. The white bikini woman quickly got up to follow walking at least three meters behind him. Is it possible, I asked myself, to run after a man who throws rocks into the sea?
My man, instead, was swimming towards the horizon. The googles he was wearing made him look like a giant insect. Like Greek moms who wave their arms saying “έλα εδώ” (“come here”) to their kids swimming too far out, I signalled for my man to come back. The swimming went well but, to get on the beach, he had to cross the rocky shore. That’s when his Moment of Inertia Dance began.
Inertia is the resistance to change. For example, a body lying down doesn’t want to get up and a body standing up doesn’t want to fall down—especially when walking on rocks. So, to keep his balance, my man tried to extend his arms as if they were a tightrope walker’s pole. There was nothing macho about him now as his arms swayed here and there to keep from falling. So I giggled and laughed and gawked like a goose. He was a good sport and laughed, too. We both like to make fun of ourselves as it keeps us amused.
Some men throw rocks, others walk over them. I prefer the latter.
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The Narrative Within 