Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Maigret!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Maigret!"

(Après George Simenon's Inspector Maigret detective stories.)

"Maigret!"

...I AM CHIEF INSPECTOR MAIGRET. I sit all alone, dead of night in my bureau at the Police-Judiciary-sureate/office building, rive-gauche, downtown Paris-France. At present (maintenant) I am chained to my office telephone anxiously awaiting latest reports, my pipe clenched between my teeth, un-smoking. For something to do I sent out for beers (for my returning troops), baguettes, fromage & ham from the Cafe Dauphin. Some Calvados. An after thought.

I have dispatched my Kids (mes enfants), detectives Lucas, Lapoint, uniformed Gendarme supported & fully armed to confront & arrest a particularly serpentine group of Islamic fanatics identified/accused of a myriad of crimes including blackmail, "quartier"/local businesses extortion & child prostitution. I have sent my Officers into harm's way, yet I am commanded by my "superiors" to remain at headquarters and thus I am presently in no way of knowing if my Boys succeed or come away un-scathed.

Yet in all Cases, it's the un-knowing, the fear-factor, that destiny-filled-orchestration in some OTHER hands; and/or in the end to be able to walk away; The Love U have saved? Lives? So often just disappear. And blood has no borders, the alleys of Montmartre or the boulevards of the Faubourg St. Germain.

Were histories Legends, Caesar, Alexander (the great), Napoleon, were they tyrants or just a ruthless product of their Times who sent a zillion Souls to their end? Atilla the HUN; no BLING! He only drank his booze out of a clay goblet!

A rage in a backpack is a Poets bane. "It'll shine when it shines!" -as they say in Missouri-USA. I'd better ask Madame Maigret to lay out my Sunday best suit for Mass if I get through this particular case? What rusty water or suicide Absinthe do our regrets absorb? And as for that mystifying Un-solved crime, the "one-that-got-away"; perhaps gypsy/Gaetano guitar-maestro Stephan Grappelli will strum them to their doom?

ROLL IT OVER! Un-crime the crime; the un-crime executes its criminality in its oblique diversity as EVIL is handcuffed, arrested or slain and in its final subjugation withers away another brutal play.

Yes. I will not light my pipe till my boys come home safe; that I may finally close my world & this time, after case after case simply light my pipe, kiss Madame Maigret "bon nuit" & fade away. Maigret.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Beethoven's 9th. /Song.)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Beethoven's 9th. /Song."

...DID IT ALWAYS HAVE TO BE like this...R. U. Sure?... We R. SO alone like a bird on a wire, that very bird which can wreck an entire Choir. WAS IT U? Did He who made the mutton - dressed as Lamb - make thee?

We R. SO alone. (Tweet-tweet!) Do not go gently onto Brighton beach unless your feet can cope with sun-braised pebbles, the U.K.'s first "topless" resort populated by aging-Harridans with sagging tits, "Cougars" on dawn patrol! Where seagulls fear to tread.

....I wandered lonely as a cask of Tetley's bitter ale (U don't know the meaning of heartbreak!); BRING IT ON!" (Jerusalem?) And a "sucker" born every minute.

We R. vampires, desirous of our own neck. We suck on our own eternity layered with Ketchup or Worcester sauce! As the die is cast, Ego's reflection in the sorry-assed mirror of our ever-changing times, sun-flashes illusions of a golden tomorrow:

"FLY FLEANCE! Fly."

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.can 

Our Man in Europe/now residing in BELIZE (old British Colony), Dave Delacroix: "How green was my Valley."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "How green was my valley."

...EVERYTHING IS FINE so just how do we pass the Time? "TOUCHWOOD?" (Just for luck.) till depression's "Black Dog" comes along, to lick your toes & "who knows where the Time goes " (Sandy Denny) like a Devil in Dixie, a human-based plague, "sans regrets" nor souvenirs but just the Truth within U that U allow to go astray.

Everything's Kosher. everything's (David Bowie) "Hunky-Dory", on my own 70th. birthday, like a time-line SHRINE proving that I outlasted the Mob and, alas, old friends, pitiful old enemies & even HONOR/old debts now swilling down TIMES DRAIN (And consider! A bankruptcy of convenience?): A horizon-resurrection, some kind of constant cerebral fornication, outright CASANOVA-MASTURBATION, thinking only of those crazy-good old days? Pontius Pilot/hands now somewhat cleansed?

Everything is OKAY-DOAKY. We drink the damned wine. As Time passes, I sojourn like an old grouchy, old Vinyard vine, never failing a season, grapes-abundant, an old CLOCK/un-wound, yet that keeps on ticking: ALLORI! -within a new generations "Hi-Tech" Springtime of which I am barely cognoscente. And why should I care? Could they ever conceive of YOUR world-wide adventures or dare? As for MINE, sometimes we mirror Shakespeare in his darkest soliloquies. 

What fools (alas!) we R. And how green was the Valley, where we began. In some cottage, farmhouse, "Projects"/tenement/slum/some "dirty old town" where old dowagers kept an eye on the kids, the MEN, finished work, paid a mother his wages, ate a hearty dinner then went out to SMOKE, a pint of beer or 2 at the local PUB. All WOKED-OUT now...Days of yore.

What fools we R. How green was my valley. Lost loves/DISMISSED in our OWN compound of folly. What HULLABALOO did we enjoin, ENJOY but escape? Poverty? Some societal Zoo? A Cavalry Cross perhaps awaits all we missed, a fair lady's tears who still now weeps for U, for your defeats, your triumphs, perhaps once in a while, your valiant deeds; how green was my valley, then.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in EUROPE/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Mr. JINGLES & a Song/Flamenco!!).

 Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix, 2 posts: "Mr. JINGLES & a Song; "Oh-Spanish Moss!" -a Flamenco/OLE!!"

1)... "...O SPANISH MOSS DO I stay or remain. O Spanish Moss, your sweetest refrain; throughout the night, holding U tight, O Spanish Moss sways again & again.

O Spanish Moss does my Love live or die; O Spanish Moss where does destiny lie? -Throughout the night, holding U tight, O Spanish Moss, a RIOJA, a name.

O Spanish Moss, a Cajun-Bayou, nearby NEW ORLEANS, Mardi-Gras hullabaloo! Throughout the night, holding U tight, O Spanish Moss does my Love live or die!

2)... "Mr. Jingles!"

.....HE'S YOUR "GO-TOO" MAN, reliant/dependable/trustworthy (?) who makes EXCUSES on the flip of a hand/at the drop of a hat who - for some Ducats! - will ALIBI your last Saturday night/at Prayer/Bible Class, alone in your room making a scene with a magazine, no problem. Your reputation is in the clear.

He's (Mr. Jingle) Italian, Spanish, Belizean, he could be from GAY PAREE. He likes ICE in his whisky, wears a toupee & false mustache, an eloper of respectable Gals. Virginities-lost-GALORE! As for DEPENDABLE? If U rob a Bank, in the "getaway-jalopy/golf cart" he'll save your ass in a mad dash! Having to get a SWEAT ON - with Mr. Jingles - is Por/Per for the course. (Golfing-sport-thingy-vernacular?) "FORE!!!" (Mind ya Gig!)

He's the Valet of Valets! A Gentleman's-Gentleman. A BUNTER (Butler) to LORD PETER WIMSEY. A master of disguise. He can also be a Plumber/fix any situ. AND If U R a SERIAL KILLER, this is the guy U need to hide from the F.B.I. leastways, for a while.: Lady Montague's stolen diamond necklace? Blamed on RAFFLES! Ha-ha! Pity. "Sans" Mr. Jingles. Raffles must have lost his Card.

He's you "VELLY" own Mr. Jingles who can LISP on a dime. An ancestor of famed Dickensian/Pickwick Papers, a "Mr. Jingles", that Man on the Spot, a Man of Affairs who has no money but will freely lend-YOURS! He lurks in railway stations, airports or on a voyage a-sea always "affecting" (Greta Garbo) "I VANT to be alone."

A character, distasteful, yet bearing in mind the "slings & arrows of outrageous fortune" that we R all borne to weather, a persona - who has not thought? - we might sometimes wish to be.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "My Brilliant Career!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "My Brilliant Career!"

(dedicato, orig. genius Australian LADY WRITER, 1901, Miles Franklin, who described AUSSIE-OUTBACK life expecting no recognition. U can buy/read HER book or SEE the Australian MOVIE: "My Brilliant Career" on Utube with Aussie star-studded cast. THIS, my Blog Post, a Salute to HER, a righteous Artist, not to be forgotten.)

"My Brilliant Career." 

(This a longish post so U might want to make a sandwich/put a 6-pack of beer/bottle of Vino on ice/roll 2 or 3 cigarettes/turn off your phone...then RElax.)

"My Brilliant Career.)

DO NOT DO TODAY IF U CAN PUT IT OFF till Tomorrow. Sheep shearing? No worries. Leave THAT GIG to the experts. Logistics, Politicians, your needy In-Laws awaiting your demise? At some point they'll go NUTS not knowing if they're gonna inherit! The Sheep? They'll stay WOOLLY/buy tickets to a LED ZEPPELIN arena concert. S-what Sheep do.

 Meantime?  I DON'T invest in a "sure thing" & if her daddy got NO Money, even less: "When tomorrow comes" (Carole King) & if her Pappy (local Sherrif) rides me out of town? OUCH! Like OVID (Roman Poet) who had the same problem with Augustus-Caesar who exiled him from Rome to RUMANIA for writing SMUT...A disrespectful Family can do that to U too? (People R SO finicky!) Why is the act of fornication exhibited/masturbation for that matter considered publicly taboo? The Etruscans, according to Greek observers never had such qualms.

(AHA!!! And Facebook - Censorship! - these days/2026) ...despite my Classical education and, alas I am now voluntarily self-exiled in BELIZE/by Mexico & I haven't even re-written a SMUTTIER version of OVID's "Metamorphosis"!... But leastways the CHURCH (?), American COPS/ICE/the USA's Imperial Guard, Canada, countries I've been kicked out of, down here they can't CENSOR or bust me! (Haven't spent ONE NIGHT in jail down here!) Age 70, drinking less but still wanna YAHOO!!! (Thinking of relocating to CUBA: Career move).

(CICERO:) "Only a FOOL will DANCE" though out THERE there's always a prancing Rudolph Valentino or 2; and in THIS - Rudolph Valentino/Silent movie star 's -case he had a zillion fans and ONE classic star-struck "Groupie"/Lover? One in particular, (probably Natasha-whoosits) always cloaked/black veiled-graveside placed anniversary flowers ON his grave and, I guess later joined him asunder in Loves eternity a 'la gossip, romantic legends, old "78" scratchy records, the Gilded Age.

... Even today, her identity, somewhat unknown: No "Selfies/Fotos" of course. The Paparazzi in the 1920s was in its infancy. Nobody stood STILL long enough. (Early Photo-techie-thingy?). "Selfies", amongst the "smart-set" probably VERBOTEN! Today? U wear disguise. Ice-Hockey Goalie mask. (Even at funerals!) "Molto Romantico!" -Think-Caruso on a bad night. Or Maria Callas in embryo. Concepts/projections-SWIRL! -Privacy in Death - "sans Hollywood" I suppose. In repose U can still make $$$ for what good it does U. Ask Micael Jackson.

Still. IN Love's eternity, Homer's Ulysses, Gaelic/Norse Sagas, "Romeo & what's her name?", 'Le Chanson de Roland", "Zen & the art of Motorcycle Maintenance" a 'la "A tale told by an IDIOT full of sound & fury" to the HULLABALOO of generations pompous trumpets and now CINEMATICALLY, still THEN to blaze, to dumb down the masses to an empty cerebral place: An Irish Dray Horse, fed just enough to know it's still hungry, Fames' Night of the Locusts: The OSCAR movie awards?

 A "Molto romantico Socio-Cultural Thrift Store. One step UP from a pawn shop where the Prophets, GODS (?), those man-made JU-JU-MEN as true as Cicero's non-Dancers in the sky wearing RAYBANS! The BLUES BROTHERS maybe, with Angel wings! (Nothing incidentally has changed?):

And: "Will U still need me? (The Beatles!) Will U still feed me? When I'm 64?" Ya gotta wonder? (Pawnshop: How much do I get for this TIMEX watch?) The 1990s band ABBA: "SELFIE ME-SELFIE U! -AHAH!!!" -WotchagonnaDO? The simpering hordes will always queue up outside Hollyweird's whoosits Chinese theatre for any glitzy premier?

DIAMONDS AIN'T - JAMES BOND - actually FOREVER when U got none! TWIX the Bible, Shakespeare, Dante & the full LOTUS seated BA-HA, the sayings of Confucius; the repetitive ravings of: "Do not put your faith in Princes/Never trust a man who doesn't DRINK & keep one eye on the non-smokers, likewise old Brothel Gals NOW main-street ladies "with issues" who HATE SMOKERS", Virgins BEWARE!

In hindsight, pity I didn't meet JULIET when I was 20! SHE was too - a nonsmoker -refined & I was inconstant-as is the way of frivolous Youth who knows too much too soon. (My excuse.) And all bets R off when U start playing guitar 2-Chord Blues! Her harmonica playing incidentally, was also atrocious! (Could-a formed a Band? We'll never know.) She married some clown with a serious Pocket Book.

World War 1 Soldiers song: "Pack all ya troubles in your old Kit Bag & Smile-Smile-Smile!"

Life, TIME! It marches on. So! Now! As raw-souding as singer JOHNNY CASH or like a Soldier from the GREEK-ALAMO, the Grecian THERMOPOLAE battlefield, wounded but groaning who after a couple or 6 Ouzos might say: "In Folsom Prison/scratch that/...Traveler, who pass on by", from Istanbul to Damascus, London to L.A. (I'm getting verbose) & now with ALL the AZTEC astronomical wisdom THAT star-studied culture applied... pant-pant...which we interpret day by day; richer or for poorer, haunted yet rejoicing, far from the madding crowd, mostly comfortably numb: my brilliant career. OUR brilliant sojourn. With any AUTOBIOGRAPHY it's hard to know how to be inclusive, to WRITE YOURSELF IN? 

 A conjurer's domain? Destiny's sleight of hand. A Caravanserai to the end of Time. Do we still yearn for Yesterday? Our brilliant career... on this pesky road all souls must travel, regardless, MUSTING in our LIVING-OBLIVION but borne to accept we just "mosey" along? Or do we RAGE till our last breath and IN death TATTOO a prehistoric hieroglyphic on some desert rock for later generations to find? I wonder. Yours & mine. Our BRILLIANT whoosits.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (F.Y.I. Back in the mid 1970s having read Miles Franklin's "My Brilliant Career" I formed a London Band: MY BRILLIANT CAREER and released a 12" long-play Single. (Message of Love). It made it to No. 1 on the U.K. Radio Play charts.)

There's a THRIFT STORE awaiting everyone's life. One step UP from A PAWNSHOP magnet, the nuts & bolts/your demise/abandoned life-long souvenirs.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "GENGHIS KHAN!" (People will talk!)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "GENGHIS KHAN!" (People will talk!)

(...a continuation of my TIME TRAVEL/ Fantasy-Blog/not telling the CHINESE - blog posts that R probably worthless/yet mildly amusing: - see previous 3 TIME TRAVEL blog posts: This is No. 4:

"GENGHIS KHAN." (People/THE HORDES will talk!)

...MY TIME-TRAVEL GOVERMENT MASTERS launched me ONCE AGAIN INTO THE PAST/sent me to - TIME TRAVEL visit/encounter TAMBOULINE/'historical-Dude who WARED & didn't take prisoners. A battlefield of corpses & amputees. But MY OWN Government/Scientific T-T (Time Travel) co-ordinates were off-center, so I ran into GENGKIS KANH, and I (my fool T-T/Time Travel-mission masters) had me wrongly attired. My T-T tailoring, dressed in a white Tuxedo/Gieves & Hawkes bowtie, Turnbull & Asser silk shirt, yet TIME erases/all Cellphones and wore DOWN...

... my own TIME- TRAVEL accoutrements leaving only the rags I am presently wearing dragged out of Life's dirt: No good with a BEE-GEES soundtrack -I landed on the MONGOLIAN TUNDRA, overdressed though on the "ground floor":(People will talk!) Still. T-T! (TIME TRAVEL!) I showed up. (Sometimes T-T/Time Travel? -It's what U gotta DO!) Sometimes Ya gotta show up looking new? TIME-Thingy!!! No Internet. Leastways not in 1352!...

(People will talk!)

Nighttime, massive camp campfires across the Siberian plains, & I was asked to STRUM my own damned song, so I did,  a "cover band" -rendition by a Persian Poet named HAFIZ, a version, before the ISLAM SCOURGE, before our intelligent Middle Eastern Ladies, Teachers & Scientists, our new MOMS & DAUGHTERS who must now scatter & cloak in a BURQUA &/OR be silenced: So I strummed  HAFIZ's "The road to Damascus. Fates appointment!"...I might have got a few words wrong. WE POETS R not perfect. TIME-TRAVEL of course - no pun intended - does it in fact WARP a mind. Today's (Persian?) MULLAHS can't take "Freedom of Thought." They don't know How-to get OUT of their religio-structured-brainwashed mind. 

(People will talk!)

.... In MY SAD-SAP Case: Got to THINKING they sent the "Wrong Man", (Henry Fonda/Film Noir), they sent the wrong TIME-TRAVEL DUDE or some "Our Man in Havana", an idiot SPY without a plan. (Pension Plan Application?) AS FOR GENGHIS-KAHN, what's to know other than he - never conquered - but traversed/ravaged the WORLD, built no citadels nor a monument to his - transient-lifestyle - Mongol grave. Makes U wonder what they'll put on your OWN gravestone, less U get butchered in a Civil War ditch: "Here lies some poor bastard/culled by the Mongol hordes, his bones on these fields lie scattered in the wind. Did he piss in the wind? Did he offend ALLAH? Can U look his mother in the eyes?

(People will talk.)

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Last of the Dumbfucks!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Last of the Dumbfucks!"

 - (continuing my Fantasy/History themed TIME-TRAVEL blog posts from "The RE-Charge of the Light Brigade" & T-T No. 2: T-T Misgivings.)

"TIME TRAVEL No. 3: "The Last of The Dumbfucks."

...IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES; it was the worst of times. In the Colonies, late 1600s, Governor SPOTSWOOD made several expeditions into "darkest/territory unknown" of what is now known as Pennsylvania, a U.S.A. State renown for coal mines & George Thorogood ("I drink ALONE!!!) Roadhouse Rock & Roll, a State which is as oblong as Texas is wide.

Writer Fennimore-Cooper parked out his novel (The Last of the Mohicans) of this wild/untouched territory (British colonial era) where some Colonel got his TEST-TACKLES ATE by attacking MOHICANS; pre-PUNK ROCK "sans" electric-3-chord guitars, a precursor of the later British - The BEATLES - music invasion where-in (the Mohicans?) the locals too might have remained SEX PISTOLS "pretty vacant". Hard to say.

TIME-TRAVEL MISSIONS are "wearing" on a T-T Man. I'm thinking of asking for a pay-rise. Meantime, the T-T LORDS landed me HERE on this colonial/lyrical/frontier. We R talking C.I.A., K.G.B. MOSSAD, & M.I.5/as long as the CHINESE R kept in the dark in fear they initiate MASS T-T Travel & screw up World History... Still, my mission's purpose was quite illusive. T-T management never overload U with details full knowing, but never intimating, T-T isn't a day out with Simon & Garfunkel to Coney Island!

And YES! Pity Mio! What was I supposed to do? -Overloaded with music by THE CLASH never mind more than one ERA'S culturally ZONKED brain? And never mind the Mohicans, what about Governor SPOTSWOOD! Do I tell him about FACEBOOK, trips to DA MOON or Taylor Swift?...

I guess my T-T Masters got (Time-) wind of my confusion & "DUST DOWN-TIME-EXTRACTED" me, pulled me out my T-T dilemma which is supposed to eliminate/eradicate all memory of any Mission. Yet in anticipation of my Sinister T-T Masters, I hereby Post.

Anyhow. Water under the bridge I suppose. Nobody SCALPED ME!!!...My next T-T assignment? (I submitted my Pay Rise Application): "The Assassination of Julius Caesar!". The assassination of J.F.K. I guess, the "powers-that-be" were keeping buried for when all conspirators were either dead & gone or their descendants had squirreled the pay-off into banks on the Caymans? 

What do I care! I'm still waiting on my T-T Pay Rise approval application. And AS for Julius Caesar's demise. through this particular mission I would also meet - through this singular T-T mission - a Roman goddess, the only woman I ever loved. Her name was Cleopatra.

...U don't know the meaning of T-T heartbreak folks? But that's another story!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.