Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Out of the Past."

 Out Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Out of the Past."

(Après the Bob Mitchum/Jane Greer/Kirk Douglas MOVIE of the same name.)

"Out of the Past."

...R. U. safe? Are U safe? Nobody is safe. Go get a mandrake root, pull it out, hear it scream. Never mind what Time is it. But more, what Time U GOT? TICK-TOCK, before tomorrow erasers your Soul; souvenirs/Real Estate, your BEST FRIENDS MEMORY as in: Go & catch a falling star? They too wonder where past years R, erected dwarf-like, a memorial (John Donne, Eng. Poet. 1500s) statue in St. Paul's cathedral. Lookin' kind-a silly. Only your OWN words will prevail like pivots of wisdom - No man is an island - to hollow the marrow of future generations bones.

Do U go or stay, involve or REVOLVE within the sinew of your purpose. It's not a choice but it's the/your only voice to transgress mortality if that has any value. As wise men, fools, thieves' debate... can anything rise above the Coin of fame/recognition, a Tomorrows yesterday? All HAIL (Ave!) Once a Lady's glance that even now haunts U to eternity. A specter. Night People. A Film-Noir. Gaberdine-Fedora. A man with a plan. Out of the Past. But a story which invariably - "everyone's right that what I always say" - goes nowhere. Do U sulk, put $10 on a racehorse or just go out & dance?

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now residing in Belize/Dave Delacroix: TIME-TRAVEL THEME; No.6: "They DIED with their MULLETS on!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: TIME-TRAVEL No. 6: "The DIED with their MULLETS-on!"

(dedicato: Ann-Marie & Aaron Yaccobucci. Mostly Ann-Marie!))

(...Continuing my MISFIT TIME-TRAVEL theme Posts:)

"They DIED with their MULLETS on."

...GEORGE-ARMSTRONG CUSTER, famed USA-WILD WEST GENERAL who distinguished himself in the American - Union side - American Civil War; probably considered an "up-start" by the Institutionalize-Political-Military "JOINT-CHIEFS"/they, to this day have adjoint Suites in the Pentagon, sub-let-secret little spaces as in Stanley Kubrick's movie scene-the WAR ROOM/adjacent cubbyholes for the "HIGH COMMAND's/Chief of Staff's "pieces of fluff " TO THIS DAY' "MERRY XMAS & HOW I LEARNT TO LOVE that bomb-thingy?

 -And getting your 3-STAR (General/Rank as opposed to MOTEL-6)) TAX PAYER-SUBSIDIZED dick sucked, privately is a Medal of Honor of sorts/outta uniform of course whether in the KREMLIN, the PENTAGON, No.10 Downing St., The Elysée Palace-France, the VATICAN or the IMPERIAL PALACE in Beijing; they're ALL going AT IT!

...As in, like ANOTHER Military UPSTART, Colonel DOOLITTLE/WW2, "Go Bomb the Emperor Of JAPAN/Don't come back!"  they parked him (CUSTER) out to Manhattan-Kansas State, these days a college town, a.k.a. "AGGIE-V ILLE!" 

These days, a big University hub. Students in Aggieville incidentally R big on "College Basketball" especially when KANSAS STATE meet KANSAS-whoever else. I forget. I played a couple of bar-concerts there. (Manhattan-Kansas.) COOL FOLKS!!! Yet, Kansas State, a State like Arkansas where it's ILLEGAL to Hitch-hike?... Hiking OUT was a close-run thing. (SINGING: "Bury my heart-in Canoga Park!" (L.A.)

  Anyhow, back to the MULLET-thingy, George Armstrong CUSTER "sans Chapeaux" (WITHOUT cavalryman fedora/Stetson hat-whoosits) had possibly the earliest known photo-gig, "FIRSTIE/SELFIE" for having his mugshot/Foto/almost an "Antique Roadshow T.V. gig, silver-gilded B/W Rembrandt in sterile mood" who paraded his (unique hair style), THE MULLET/cut short to-sides/thin on top/long over-neck out back/let your hair-rug - if ya got it! - CAVALIER!...

 ...A Macho "plume de tete" which a century later became fashionable within the ranks of Construction workers (to distinguish/"a 'Un petite le Tour-Eiffel above the Paris skyline) but was NEVER adopted/caught-ON or became "SWINGING" a 'la "HEY DUDE!!!"  with Bankers, Accountants, LAWYERS - YET SOME DID gravitate to ponytails - mini tail braids, RASTA DREADS or an AC/DC "Man-bun"; one or 2 in NANTES, pronounced "Nancy" but only, I guess, the Legal Shysters, the ones who had nothing to lose, A.K.A. Money lenders. Your best friends? No worries. Sometimes SHAME, though awkward gets a bad name.

And as for POLITICIANS who of course - with beady eyes - a-feared of being perceived as TOO Bohemian/Avante-Garde by their "Clochemerle" provincial constituents or feeling a tight squeeze on their Political-foreskins/if they had survived politically correct circumcision...So, the Mullet- is off limits. ALAS! And pity the poor Mullet: MULLET PEOPLES LIVES MATTER!

When the great North American Native Indian Nations/Lakota's over-ran Custer's 7th. Cavalry at the "Battle of the Little Bighorn" (such names they have), when it came to "scalping" the vanquished (a custom introduced by European invaders) they probably felt short-changed that the enemy was a little light on the "Poodle-head", at that time, the current fashion in gay Paree! As for T-T (My Time Travel situ.) I waved my International PRESS CARD at Indian Chief Sitting Bull before he could strike me down. (Every T-T traveler carries one). 

He couldn't make "head nor tails" over my NIKON camera but regarded me as some kind of Holyman/a publicist to plead his nation's enforced plight & righteous defense & indignation. (Phew!) So along with a few wounded I got to walk away unscathed. There followed a week's rickety-fragile wagon train back to Manhattan-Kansas. At some lull on this sad retreat, I got to thinking maybe the Aggieville kids R putting on a B-B game, & then immediately felt ashamed.

I never got back to Manhattan-K. The T-T (Time Travel) powers that be extracted me & posted me to...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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 Dauphine. Some Calvados. An after thought.

I have dispatched my Kids (Mes Enfants), detectives Lucas, Lapointe, Janvier with 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 graves?

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 criminal day-by-day urban 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.