Every Point on its' Surface Equidistant From its' Center

 

My last story, A Brief Brown Study of Hunter S. Thompson (w/ a Keith Richards Interview) is a tough act to follow.

It's fall 1983, Henry wakes up early, turns in bed, necking with his dark Cuban wife Lucia, appreciating the warmth and alluring scent of her neck.

She brushes him away, not in the mood, engrossed in an NFL game she watches on her portable Sony Trinitron, rooting for the Giants who were 3-12 that year.

Hail Fred Exley and the Giants when Frank Gifford was quarterback, the QB said years later,

To me, Vince Lombardi was the difference between my becoming a good pro player and just another halfback. Anything I accomplished in this game I owe to him.

Henry tucks his head into the door saying to Lucia who's still in bed, 

get dressed sweetie, let's go to the Village, 

we'll eat dinner at the Whitehorse Tavern, then take in Joseph Beuys's show at MoMA? Lucia says grinning,

show me the way, Querido.

They take their time, drinking coffee, eating hash brownies, laughing as they leg wrestle on the living room carpet, watching, on and off, a VCR of a  Rolling Stones concert. Loving the scene where Kieth Richards hits a concertgoer who has jumped on stage with his Fender in a sea of balloons and the legend continues to play, as security removes the guy.  

Feeling good after a shower, they dry and dress simply in jeans flannel shirts and leather boots. 

Rubbing and combing in coconut oil then braided each other's hair. 

Outside they walk to the subway, reach the escalator, riding it down into the 125th Street Harlem station, where they wait for the D train to Greenwich Village.

After an uneventful ride, they walk the Village going directly to the Whitehorse Tavern, the oldest bar in New York City, they grab a booth. 

Bluesman Jimmy Rogers hit Bluebird is playing on the jukebox — the Horse is downhome. 

The waitress looks sharp in her red fluorescent wig and white and black outfit, going over the menu,

we're serving broiled catfish or shark, Kansas City strip steaks, and lamb chops. Our sides are guava beans, mashed sweet potatoes, garlic bread, and assorted salads. Lucia orders, 

we’ll have the catfish, a strip steak, sweet potatoes, garlic bread, and cole slaw bring an extra plate so we can share. 

And to drink? 

A pitcher of German beer,

I’ll get your pitcher now. 

Henry says to Lucia, 

when you eat at the Horse, you're in the tall pine, babe.

After dinner, they walk a few blocks to MoMA, Joseph Beuys's performance bit canceled because he's in the hospital with pneumonia, fireman Steve Buscemi will fill in for him.

The venue fills up fast, Buscemi is a local celebrity.

His show is in the museum’s basement, the crowd stands around him as he says,

I woke up this morning feeling even, 50 percent this way and 50 percent the other way. 

A single light bulb is hanging from a cord over his head, and sirens are blaring as small flood lights shine light waving back and forth behind him.

At the conclusion of the show, the light bulb explodes, then magically lights again as if nothing happened. 

After the show, Henry and Lucia walk 10 blocks to Club Birdland, taking the opportunity to light up, passing a joint back and forth as they walk through the canyons of New York City.  

Club Birdland hadn't changed over the last 40 years, the red cotton and mohair stage curtain always seemed to reek of mole and the black and white checkered tiles were wearing.  

There will be a show honoringThelonius Sphere Monk, who died last year in 1982, honoring the man and his work performed by local city musicians. 

Thelonious Monk was born in North Carolina in 1917. His family moved to New York when he was 6 years old. His mother become the sole breadwinner when his father returned to North Carolina. 

From then until the 1980s, Monk lived in the same small apartment— with his mother and siblings. 

At 14, he was contributing to the family’s income by playing at rent parties in the neighborhood.

At 16, he became a professional musician. One of his most recorded tunes Round Midnight was written when he was only 18. 

He played in groups throughout his 20s, but his inclination towards idiosyncratic experimentation made him difficult to jam with.

In terms of jazz history, his role as a member of the Out of Hour’s Players— a group of musicians playing to small local crowds at Minton’s Playhouse in Harlem in the 40s was tantamount. 

Jazz luminaries such as Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, and Ray Brown would step in and play the sessions from time to time.

As others in the scene were hailed as innovators, Monk remained a background figure, admired by fellow musicians when his music was considered to be an acquired taste.

He lived for music, forgetting to eat and going days without sleeping— wandering from one club to another to sit in on the jams. 

Monk was generous with his time and money, even while struggling to make ends meet for his family. Encouraging younger musicians to be self-disciplined and look for their authentic voice, once saying, 

play your inner self.

His demons were fired by his use of dope, he loved smoking weed and drinking in murky club settings.

When Thelonious was 34 he lost his cabaret card for holding some heroin for pianist Bud Powell, consequently, he was unable to perform in New York City clubs for 6 years. 

This was like the open door behind the closed door for Monk. 

Fellow jazzmen who sat in on the European tour soon discovered Monk was dysfunctional socially without the structured environment his wife provided for him when in America.

He was known for episodic schizophrenia, seemingly in his own world, and occasionally seen laughing to himself.

In New York after the European tour, he spent a week in a mental health center cared for by a celebrity doctor who prescribes vitamins, psychotropic medication, and group therapy which brought him out of himself.

Eventually, Monk receives the recognition he deserves— his portrait makes the cover of Time Magazine in 1964, and the issue also ran a short article on him.

His mental and physical health declined till the end. 

He spent the last 6 years of his life withdrawn in his Harlem apartment watching TV in an easy chair.

In the end, Thelonious Sphere Monk deteriorated from being an inventive, talented, and humorous being, becoming a tired recluse, shutting his jazz friends out, and truly Blue Monk.

Henry and Lucia drink German beer and watch the show at Birdland Club until 2 AM, catching a taxi home to their Harlem apartment, and going to bed in their underwear with the TV on.