This is getting to be a pain in the ass! This post also wasn’t displayed in the usual manner of the recently posted on kottu, and if I wasn’t as sane and as dispassionate about such things as I am, I would be on the verge of paranoia about some conspiratorial process in the works (just kidding!). Anyway – here it is – again!
What’s in a name…OR …A rose by any other…
Juicy Luci (aka Jolly) was in a quandary. There she was, babe in arms, sweeter than the most delectable nectar – and what does she name it? No ordinary or common name would do for this cherub – even though it did, on occasion, spurt excesses out of its various orifices to distances that boggled Jolly’s mind.
The whole saga began a year ago when Jolly, free and easy at the time, met this hunk at the Café. It was one of those languid Sunday mornings; the light was streaming through the Araliyas, making a shifting kaleidoscope of patterns on the cobbled paving. The children were in their element, running around, climbing the trees and playing in the easy atmosphere. The jazz was cool and sounding good, the pork sandwich and fries were just right and the ambiance was welcoming – so welcoming in fact, that the hunk must have seized the moment to ask if Jolly minded sharing her table, as there were hardly any seats left at the others. Jolly was instantly attracted and didn’t mind at all. So there they sat, listening to the jazz and before too long they were chatting like old friends – so much in common, they discovered they had. Their musical tastes ran from Bach and Brubeck to Floyd, the Beatles and B. B. King, pianists from Gershwin to Gould, and even opera, favoring Handel and Mozart. Books on an assortment of topics that included all sorts of fiction. Theatre and movies – where even their favourite actors were common to them both. In short – ‘twin souls’. And then, not long after this initial encounter, the merging took place – not long after which, the hunk went AWOL. It was around this time in her life that Jolly met Java – at the Café of course – where else?!!!
Ah be sittin dere maan, doin mah thang. It be mid-mornin on dis Saturday an da folk be scarce – all be sleepin in no doubt, after dere heavy-ass Friday night bingein. So it be jus me an ol Mo havin our brew and smoke, when dis chick com up to us an aks (jus like dat) if we mind sharin our space wit her. We tink dat she be wantin a hit from dat speshul we be tokin on, but she say no, she don wantta hurt dis baby she be carryin – she jus be feelin lonely an since we look like pretty cool cats, she com up an talk. So we rap to her – bout all kindsa sheet. Movies, music, books, drugs, sports – all kindsa sheet – an she be hip and oh so cool, I be likin her instantly and she be likin us too. So den she tell us how she get da kid – to be born sometime in November – an we both be bad-moutin dat hunk!
Well, to make a long story short, Java kept in contact with Jolly – all through her confinement, meeting on occasion to talk and keep her company, chatting to her on the phone and generally being her friend and being there whenever she needed him In fact they were so close that many of our friends and hers suspected Java of being the father of her unborn child. Jolly, who remained non-commital in response, never mentioned the hunk to anyone since her conversation that day at the Café with Java and Mo. And although she lived with her parents, even they had no idea of the identity of the hunk.
Know what maaan? Dis chick be sooo fuckin cool an togedder, she never bad-mout dat hunk o hers. She never even menshun his ass to me since dat fust day we met. Dat be a closed chapter in her story – done an dusted! She be havin no regrets – all she wanta do be to take care of dat child.
So the child was born – alive and beautiful – and Java and I were among the first to greet and welcome it to this world. And now, there she was – Jolly Luci – babe in arms – in a quandary about the name.