20 May 2007


  • May 20, 2007


riding all day down the coast of California.

Typical early spring weather.

Cool.  Misty.  Bright.  Windy.

Tired, a little hungry.

Rain starts.

Rain gear doesn't help - all wet.  Cold.

Arrive at camp ground, check in, restroom / shower key

Clothes off, in the shower, all alone, faucet, hot, almost too hot, almost painful
Almost, but not

Warm.  Soft

Like your body is going to melt.
Right there in the campground shower, melt into a puddle, but you don't mind.

Wonder briefly what person in shower stall next door thinks of the pleasure noises involuntarily escaping you, but, the feeling is too distracting to think.  Ordinary showers never feel as good.

Take that feeling, the hot water enveloping, but instead, picture it in girl form.


And yet -

Music.   Music in the genre they call "funk".
Sure, music is a matter of taste, personal preference.
But there is something ,  that, eee-gha. When your feeling the live band.  The rhythm gets into you.  People to ashamed to dance can't help but tap feet and wiggle heads.  There's a break, a pause, and then that first perfect beat, that first note, and if its done right, the dancers no longer have control over their bodies.  The musicians do.  And they know it, and they play with it.  And its not about what you look like, or about picking someone up, its just the music, just you and the music, and it just feels right, it just feels good.

Take that feeling, and put it in girl form.

The music with that ngha and the melting in a puddle.  They are not compatible.  They are both good, but one is calm and one is energy itself.  Or at least, not in any other context are they compatible.  Some how, passion, with all its physical movement, all its effort, makes you melt just like the shower, just like a really good massage.  Even with out sex, even with out love, it is like combining every good sensation, every good feeling that life has to offer us, into one concentrated moment, so intense as to boarder on excruciating, but somehow never crossing that line.

That sound, in the Beatles song "Girl" on Rubber Soul, the sucking in through the teeth, sssss, I can't find a proper onomatopoeia for it.
But you know what I mean.

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