OUR MAN in Piacenza: Take - dave brubeck - 5: "Eleanora from Cremona": un canzone per Irma Zanetti

Take 5: "Eleanora from Cremona": un canzone per Irma Zanetti

Caro Irma? It was so nice to see you again, yesterday (ieri), Wednesday (mercoledi?) when, - through working night & day on my new book - I thought it was FRIDAY (venerdi) and insisted you come TO my Friday night concert at Lady Chans, "LADY BAR" on the Via Mazzini (Piacenza) where I do a "piccolo concertina" EVERY friday (venerdi) night around 8pm...and thank you for assuming I had gone completely off my "rocker" & politely NOT correcting my obvious "time-lapse" and are waiting UNTIL (venerdi) friday...and then come WITH friends to my "piccolo concertina"!

(Ahem!)

Regardless?... "Ieri" (yesterday)....still thinking it WAS infact (venerdi) Friday...I dutifully showed up at Lady Chans LADY BAR, guitar in hand, played a "piccolo concertina" to the ever-present cool crowd & made a bunch of money and several new "amici" (friends) who insisted I play/perform a "tarantella"!

Thus? I wrote the following song (canzone), a "tarantella", on the spot and every one, along with "molto,tutte, bella vinos" had a fine old sing-song time!

Ergo? Dedicated to YOU, sweetie-pie? -here is the song: "Eleanora from Cremona"

...written on Lenudi (monday) or Sabatto (saturday) or whatever frickin (di giorgno) today actualy IS!

OK: "Eleanora from Cremona"

Eleanora from Cremona
She said she,d love me true,
Then she took me to Bologna
For minestrone soup!

Then we got the train to Roma
A dolce vita coup
Like Juliet, Verona
She had me by the noose!

(Everyone sing:) LA-La-La-La, etc., etc.

I wrote a postcard from Salerno
Mamma-mia e Amici (gasping for breath)...USA
Im stuck in old Calabria
Mia Amico,s gone away!

So I hitch hike to Brindisi
Shes nowhere to be found
Eleanora from Cremona
As gone to Napoli!

LA-la-La-La.La, etc., etc.

So I go to Viacenza
She,s (encore) nowhere to be found
I drink a beer in Piacenza
Get a hotel in Milan!

Dont you ever go to Torino
Cause Eleanora is living right THERE!
She broke my heart
And left me broke;
Eleanora!!!!!
(Buona Fortuna!)
Eleanora!!!!....from Cremona!!!!!

La-La-La-La, etc., etc.

OLE!

(Obviously, Irma? this is a song/canzone/tarantella that still needs a LEETLE bit of work!....)


c 2011/oct/our man in piacenza/dave delacroix/lord borgo/Hotel Dave/piacenza/italy/presently sober as a judge!/but things WILL change!...ole!

OUR MAN in PIACENZA: Take 4: "Bongiorgno Italia!"

Our man in Piacenza: Take 4: "Bongiorgno Italia!"

I love the sound of a "Skill.saw" in the morning! -grinding, crisp and shrill! TWO?...even better. THREE? -an orchestra! And the honking of traffic, Vespa scooter whines; the populace veritably SCREAMING: "Ciao, bello, Ciao!!! Plus the blessed No. 4 bus (kinda small; almost a VAN: "Wheres its mommy?") spluttering outside my (HOTEL DAVE/Casa di Amici/€35 -1 nite) "alberego" window every 20 frickin minutes...spewing carbon monoxide which mingles with my tobacco smoke, addressing the flavour of my morning coffee with the utmost rigour...and the BELLS of the basilica St. Sepulcro rattling my window panes ("The BELLS! The FRICKIN BELLS!")
Ya get the picture?

Paradise.

And such IS Piacenza. Such is Italy!

Encountering some Brit tourists, long ago in "romantic" Venice, they be-moaned the City,s Summer stench... And yet? I - for one - embrace it! You are experiencing HISTORY. How....IT WAS! Like the dust & damp you sense when visiting a Basilica or that musty taste of rennaisance tapestries that hypnotize you in a hundred citadel fortresses.

If you require peace and tranquility...go to some pacific atoll; do NOT come to the land of the Etruscans, the Romans, the Lombards! Its sensuality of sights and sounds, vinos & epicurean delights will drowned you.

Still? -in MY view (and I DO have "a room with a view") it will be....a happy demise.


c 2011/dave delacroix/LORD BORGO/Hotel Dave/€35 -1 nite/Casa di Amici/Our man in Piacenza.Italy

OUR MAN in PIACENZA: Take 3: Below the Salt

Our Man in Piacenza: Take 3: Below the Salt

Having just been robbed by - the very best - quartet of South American kids; 2 bandidos, 2 bella donnnas, who having shared my hospitality at the HOTEL DAVE/Casa (sic) di Amici; money missing from my bureau, poor olf "Albergo" having been obviously ransacked (I own nothing worth stealing) I commiserate with a bottle of Guternero (rossi) and several Morretti brewskis....and wonder just how, being fleeced, I will manage to pay the frickin rent!?

When U are life,s victim...its best to think of past times when U - occasionally - were/have, in the foiables of youth, like the South American quartet, been uncaringly predatorial.

Who?

Once? (twice!?)

...did U betray?

Whose trust did U tread upon....like broken glass?

Did U hurt them? And DO they still carry that scar?

What goes around, comes around. Religious text is filled with such metaphoric wisdom. It takes - perhaps - a life-time to understand: DO NO HARM!

In olden days - think renaisance - people dined/ate/feasted at long tables. SALT was a precious food preservative and high-end commodity.

U sit above it, at the top of the tables? -You,re "entitled"- Chow on down!

U sit BELOW it?....That venison U are munching on is probably spoiled.

To sit above it, however, takes more than personal prestige. It takes "the getting of Wisdom"....which - again, perhaps - is the carefully nurtured understanding that U have to BE KIND.

(Where was I?)

at this point, dave delacrtoix, a.k.a. LORD BORGO, satiated with vino Gutternero & several Moretti brewskis....falls off his sofa onto the HOTEL DAVE/€35 -1 nite/Casa di Amici,s marble floor...and needs an ambulence to take him to thee ol hospital... Concusion, I think.... And a kindly neighbor - TOONA - provides a stretcher, saying: (in Italian) "Hang on, Dave! I think its gonna be a bumpy ride!"

c 2011/dave delacroi8x/LORD BORGO/Hotel Dave (€35 -i nite)via Camapgna 89, Piacenza, Italy...of course/OUR MAN in Piacenza.

OUR MAN in PIACENZA: Take 2: Lord Borgo

OUR MAN in PIACENZA: Take 2: Lord Borgo

I - officially - have decided to change my name....

Before?

Dave Delacroix; Duke of Denver (Colorado, USA)

Now?....residing in the BORGO district of Piacenza (Italy, of course) I hereby DO - subject to ALL the rules, contracts, stipulations, mega-obscure paragraphs...over which many lawyers (small L) will debate/pontificate at exhorbitant amounts of money - SWEAT! - elevate myself to the Princely status of LORD BORGO.... And if the local ruling class..."in these parts"... have failed to recognize my OBVIOUS nobility or invite ME into their immediate fold?....It is no fault of mine.

(Ahem!) THEREFORE?.....(in future) please address all mail/post/correspondence to:

Lord Borgo (c/o davedelacroix@aol.com)

or?

LORD

or?

Dear Lord!

or?

My Sweet Lord...

or?

LAWDIE HOWDY DO-DAT!?

(Milli-grazie)


c. 2011/our man in piacenza/lord borgo/hotel dave-casa di amici (€35-1 nite)/via campagna 89, piacenza/booga-loo!

Our Man in Piacenza: Take !: Witchata Linesman...

Our Man in Piacenza, Take 1: WITCHATA LINESMAN

(Lights? Camera? Action!)

Sooooo?.....Atemis Blogovich-Smith, having trailed/stalked me to Piacenza, (Italy) makes (lol) the ONE fatal mistake and falls in love withe the "bello" Lenore; live, vivacious, a good cook (Italian: go figure) with a keen sense of fashion AND speaks bearable Esperanto (English).

Wedding bans are posted at the local "Super-Mercato" (King-Soopers) and at the Pakistani owned inter-net cafe - from where I write - ; beer mat/decal invitations are bandied about/customary for all bohemian affairs, a salute/nod/punt/ to "some semblance of Social merit" doobie-doo.....And, for the life of me?...I feel obligated to "show up" and lend some sober sense of Community spirit!.....(?)

Weddings...in Italia....are at once a solemn, yet festive affair. Ya gotta wear a (black) jacket and white - hopefully pressed - shirt.
....No one gives a crap about "pantaloons". They could be "Daktari" ZEBRA and no-one would give a shit

Still. Its a lengthy gig. All that "Candles" rigamarolle, chanting, an eternity of "Ave Marias"....and I would love to joke about it but its sooo repetitive, I swear; its JUST NOT FUNNY!

Then some ol gal....actually, some old skinny virgin who never TOOK the habit starts playing the frickin Cello (not half bad) and the HOLY DUDE in a lacey combo frock, worthy of Ives St Laurants worst nightmare, dispensing the (R.C.) obligaqtory ritual, amidst which, Artemis, and his bride to be, all decked out in Nike Splendour, flood-lit-centre stage:

"Artemis?" sayeth the frock-dude;

"Artemis? (You piece of shit) DO U take bella Lenore  as your beloved wife?"

"Johnny Depp!"

"Que!?"

"You bet! Shes rich!"

"Que?"

"Absolutely, man!.... C, mon! Lets get on with it!"

At which point some old fat gal up on high in the basilica gallery, accompanied by some aneamic gerontion with blood shot eyes and leprosy for a complexion ignites the ancient thunderous pipe organ, dispensing with "WE ARE DEVO" but goes straight to "Ave Maria" (like we have NOT been brain-washed enough (?).....!

Leastways? -Im told so, because at SOME point I,d lost interest in the whole affair and gone wandered out of the basilica across the street to a tavern....and HERE U must remember that wedding rituals fall dead centre between (bloody Mary) morning cocktails and (Dry Martini) Happy hours!......ahem....which is not only downright inconvenient but enough to piss off the Pope!......I think.

Artemis Blagovich-Smith?

Well; he got married.

Me?

I nodded to Jesus.....

....and like the Witchata Linesman?

                                                     I,m still on the Line.


c 2011/Our man in Piacenza/davedelaccroix/Hotel Dave, via Campagna 89, Piacenza, Italy/ wish U were here!...:)









          

Our Man in Europe: dave delacroix: Part 60: Mr Norris Changes Trains.

Part 60:   Mr Norris Changes Trains.


"This is the End; beautiful friend, the End..." (jim morrison)

A surprise for you? A surprise for me, also. This vignette of a blog-book was conceived as a Decameron of (100) wacky travel tales...and yet, from June 2010 thru now, July 2011, I find "the times they are a`changing" and, alas, my music/songwriting career - once more - is sucking me down the worm-hole of vocational exigency.

As for this blog-book? -It is a shadow of a living time. And YOU (blog-book reader) and I have been shoulder to shoulder throughout!

Regretably, 2 of your number have infact "passed on" and - faraway - I was unable to attend the funereals and mourn amongst mutual friends and loved ones... Yet, in lieu of, I actually WENT (where ever I was on hearing the sad news) TO CHURCH...and paid my respects...which were much expanded by the churchès grand pipe organs and the chanting of the faithful.

Tears flowed.

Of note, too, is that the bereaved`s FACEBOOK pages still stand and are now filled with the lamentations of friends, theitr parents, their children!... And to discover the departed`s last days, their final activities, their thoughts?...one has to scroll back page after page (of a myriad of condolences) until you can once more hear their voices... At which point, like a visit to Pompeii, your senses are beguiled.

There are, I believe, 500 million Facebook sites/people-postings, and I wonder of what percentage, like my 2 friends, belong to people who are no more?
There is, indeed, a cyber-space Cemetary, and perhaps a top corner-page, black angle stripe, should be posted as a testament to the person`s mortality status?

We are born. We grow. (we post on Facebook) We live. And death?... A black stretch Limo...in which ALL must one day ride...circles the block, the town, your Life...and is ALWAYS "on call".
(sort`a-kind`a)

I saw the Stalker (see part 39: Stalker) the other day: Artemis Blagovich-Smith. He was passing through Hildersheim/lower Saxony, where I`m presently engaged in recording the song: "This Train" (google on u-tube) and shooting yet more music videos.

He parked his uninvited ass at my patio table at the Cafe Ubersee.

"Hey Dave! You still kickin`?"

"Whadaya need, ya prick?" I said, tersely. -I think, however, I smiled.

He too; a sometime musician. Small concerts. An ocassional busker. Always looking like a million bucks; orders champagne.

"I missed your concert at the Summer of Love festival...?" he ventured.

"Too bad:" I said, getting ready to leave.

He asked: "How was it?"

"It rained."

I stood to leave, then having second thoughts, decided to linger... and ordered another beer.

...................

Going back to my dearly departed, I look at the "Stalker-roni" and question the Almighty`s wisdom in CULLING some of the nicest members of his flock SO EARLY, whilst permiting an interminally long life for cretins like Artemis...and the world`s tyrants, for that matter!...?

What gives? -O Great One!

Perhaps the answer/ wisdom is clear? For you must always, er...admire?...leastways "acknowledge" your Nemisis. They exist because YOU do.
Otherwise you relapse into Hate, which...as you know...is a toilet bowl that leads to no place good.

Yet even HE (Artemis), who I might (wishful thinking) never encounter again, and like my "dearly departed" friends...gone forever...this Blog-Book too, passes into Time`s tapestry; for now.

No doubt (or maybe NOT!) some future fresh-faced student of Literature/blogging will pick through it - as an exercise to pass the time of day - and try to identify the "illuminae" of whom I have written?

(Some, incidentally, are quite well known)

Future Editors, doubtless (lol), will have a "field day" with my use/abuses of the English language!

Meanwhile, until the next time? I leave you with a final morsel concerning a very disturbed young man...and a very distinguished lady, who is at present, preparing a bounty of food.

(Judith`s Special)


c 2011/july 7/our man in europe/dave delacroix/on the road to Nordhausen...to play a biker gig

Our Man in Europe: dave delacroix: Part 61: "Judith's Special".

Part 61:   "Judith's Special".


...Met a guy in Hieger, or Marburg, Munster; some place...I was jammin' on the street...who "kopt" me in some Deutsche bohemian pub...and invited me to tell him my tales of travel....which, free beer ensuing, I nevertheless gave him the "abreviated" version... to a stone cold stranger.

Infact, he was actually just desperate to talk, to spill his guts, to tell HIS story!... He was the epitome of unhappiness. Not just drunk, (we both were) but a deeply scared soul...of mega proportions.

Tall. Lean. A skull of a face. Blonde, going on ragged. 25 to 39 years of age. Affectedly demented, but wryly wise. HARD as nails. (Hans? Klaus? Wolfgang?)
From a good family, one supposed?

His Doctor (Sans Borders) parents had raised him in Iraq, Iran, and later? Afghanistan.

(Idiots?.... Thinking:  Girls?...Never trust a Doctor, ALWAYS marry a Dentist!)

...And he had - at first hand - seen the damage the "toys" of the Super Powers (in this case, Russia...and then the United States) had had on the people scratching out a living in the outlying villages/provinces of the afore-mentioned countries; the Butcher's bill of WAR...and to witness as a child...!?

When, finally, after 5 or 10 years, "Doc" Mom & Pop (and the now extremely traumatized child) eventually moved back to Germany...presumably to either save their son's fragile soul/finish his schooling in more sympathetic surrounds/regroup their sordid zealousness ...and plan their only son's yet future exposure to NEW horrors!!?...HE (the kid), hooked up with some equally severely deranged brat who...at a rail-road (bahnhof) station - I'm not making this up, folks - decided to throw himself in front of an express train, yet could NOT execute this madness without firstly ANOUNCING IT to my drinking buddy (Hans, Klaus, Wolfgang?) ....looking him DEAD in the eyes...then commiting his act of self destruction.

(think splashed, squashed, tomatoes)

.........

This (scared) young fella? -Now a Tree Surgeon by trade:

"I'd like to PLANT trees, Dave... But all I get asked to do is cut them down!?"
-he laments, whilst expressly advising me NOT to go a´roaming - as is my want - in the mid-East countries of his childhood.
"You`ll be kidnapped, gang banged, then skinned - literally - alive!"

 And this/my drinking buddy (Hans, Klaus, Wolfgang?) had on his maturity, circumnavigated - hitch-hiking - the globe... (in search of?) ...and had pretty much sailed the Seven Seas, to boot! -which in the course of, he had gathered / had many tales to tell....and that mostly, would be un-believed;

Marco Polo had the same problem...you may recall?

 This night? This week? I am a guest of a great landowner and civic figure in the German countryside, south of Hanover, where there is great merriment, music and eloquence of Life.

His guest house - at present - being under re-model? -he has me housed in a "marquee" of a House Tent comprising of six rooms with a fully stocked kitchenette, deck furniture, inter-net access, guitars and all the "mod cons" that if you WERE Lord & Lady "Muck" you`d expect on a trip that would make "camping" tolerable!
Also? -Situated thus, it does not escape me that my host had considered their residence`s garden locale, apart from the main house`s "goings on"... that I would have "creative space" to compose and write without disturbance.

Most gracious.

My HOST, my friend, a stella musician, incidentally, the HEAD of this ancient family, has an adorable older sister who, having taught English IN England, spending many year there...has great fun fixing me "olde Brit Cafe" style breakfast fare:

                                        Sausage & Chips

                                         Eggs on Toast

                                         Beans on Toast

                                         Lots`a ketchup!

                                         Sausage, chips, eggs, beans on toast!
                                         (Lots`a ketchup!)

....and as her name is Judith? -we call each breakfast plate... a "Judith`s Special".

"TWO JUDITH`S SPECIALS, LUV, AND A POT OF TEA!"

(Actually, I write this "in jeste" as Judith does in fact prepare many great, exotic meals; her culinary skills are quite brilliant; sprinkling Paprika AND Curry powder on quality wurst (huge sausages) I thought was beyond haute cusine and, indeed? -a stroke of Genius!...I`ll never gnaw on a naked sausage ever again!)

But BACK to my drinking buddy...who I met in Heiger, Marburg or Munster (Hans, Klaus, Wolfgang?), for... subject to his tragic aura and jaded kharma AND on-going trauma...I fear he will never experience, encounter OR attract the kind of "safe harbour" experiences OF Life that my own life - uncannily - regularly meets in my travels.

Alas, for most folks, he is too DARK a Messenger...but I convey his story, here...and someday in the future? -we will meet again... And? -because we in fact got along famously, talking of many interesting and lighter topics; it`ll be a Jamboree. A Jamboree!

I hope so.

We`ll make it....a "Judith`s Special!".


 c 2011/Monsoon June/our man in europe/dave delacroix/Lower Saxony/germany