Welcome to one of the most active flamenco sites on the Internet. Guests can read most posts but if you want to participate click here to register.
This site is dedicated to the memory of Paco de Lucía, Ron Mitchell, Guy Williams, Linda Elvira, Philip John Lee, Craig Eros, Ben Woods, David Serva and Tom Blackshear who went ahead of us.
We receive 12,200 visitors a month from 200 countries and 1.7 million page impressions a year. To advertise on this site please contact us.
Yes.. It may not have been well known that the Dead had a necktie label. Designs were at least approved, if not actually originated by the band. I used to wear one to meetings at the Pentagon during the Cold War, to ward off the Doomsday Machine vibes.
I thought it got pretty strange in the '60s, but looking back I think it may be even stranger now.
When the doctor noticed my answer on the questionnaire she said, "So your parents lived to be 94 and 97? You're in pretty good shape now. Looks like you're going to last that long too....whether you want to or not."
So, 82 the day before Christmas.
A couple of years ago I stopped thinking it couldn't get any more strange. I told my son that recent events had been an education to me, at age 80.
Henry Miller wrote in "Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch," his memoir about life on the Big Sur coast, after he came back from France: "Remember, every experience is a blessing."
I didn't believe him the first time I read that, somewhere around 54 years ago. At the time I seriously resented some recent experiences. My reaction to them involved risks I would not now recommend. But having thought it over a few times, I have to say the reaction seems to have been inevitable, and in the end the experience proved valuable.
That's Big Sur behind me. The black Harley K-Model Sportster is behind the grey-eyed, fair-skinned gallega with long wavy black hair, who took the photo using the Nikon she gave me for my birthday.
As usual, great musings, Richard. In the chance you won’t be online between now and Christmas, I’d like to wish you a Happy Birthday and Season’s felicitations a couple of days early.
The other day I saw that these guys were still around:
I still can't stand them (love-hate relationship ) but they've certainly got talent (except maybe for writing lyrics...) and make some clever musical choices.
_____________________________
"Anything you do can be fixed. What you cannot fix is the perfection of a blank page. What you cannot fix is that pristine, unsullied whiteness of a screen or a page with nothing on it—because there’s nothing there to fix."
Henry Miller wrote in "Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch," his memoir about life on the Big Sur coast, after he came back from France: "Remember, every experience is a blessing."
I was a fan of Anais Nin and Henry Miller who were literary companions and lovers. When I was young I devoured Henry Miller. At the time, he seemed to me to be the epitome of the avant garde writer and thinker. And at the time i think he was. Two things stand out in my mind about Henry Miller. The first is his book "The Colossus of Maroussi," in which he spent much of 1939 traveling and living in Greece at the invitation of his friend Lawrence Durrell who lived in Corfu, and who later wrote "The Alexandria Quartet.". The "Colossus" in the title refers to their mutual friend and traveling companion George Katsimbalis, a Greek who reminded me of Zorba the Greek.
The second thing that stands out is when I read "Tropic of Cancer." I recall a very funny incident when Miller moves to Paris. He meets a whore and stays with her in her Paris apartment. Miller is new to Europe and Paris, and he goes to the toilet in the whore's apartment. He has to defecate, and unknowingly defecates in her bidet. Of course, Miller, not knowing what a bidet is, thinks it's a toilet. The whore returns to her apartment, sees what miller has done, and immediately kicks him out of her apartment. A very funny episode, as Miller describes it. Needless to say, I did not submit a book report on "Tropic of Cancer" to my high school sophomore English teacher.
Bill
_____________________________
And the end of the fight is a tombstone white, With the name of the late deceased, And the epitaph drear, "A fool lies here, Who tried to hustle the East."
I cleaned the sand off my feet in a bidet, in Spain in 1968 until I found out what it was for. They are still prevalent and we have two in our house in Italy. Much feet cleaning
Printable Version
) but they've certainly got talent (except maybe for writing lyrics...) and make some clever musical choices. 
New Messages
No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages
Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages
Locked w/o New Messages
Post New Thread