Tuesday, June 01, 2004

A Quiet Memorial Day (Part Two)

We went to a party last night, a reggae party at Schooner Wharf, featuring the duo named -- ready for this? -- The Reggae Party. They're actually Marty and Lennie. Marty plays sax and flute and conch shell, and plays them all well. Lennie runs the keyboards and the drum machine, and occasionally steps to the side to pick out a melody on the shiny steel pan drum to his left.

In going to Schooner Wharf, we missed out on another party, a pool party at the home of one of the founding members of the Alice Foundation. We walked to the Green Parrot in the heat of the afternoon of what had already been a very busy day. Janet's leg is still not right. She hurt it at work last January, and it became worse over time. The diagnosis is cartilage damage and some arthritis in her knee. It doesn't help that her rib cage still hurts from the fall she took at the motel in Georgia. The knee has been injected with cortisone, which is supposed to help, and ibuprofen lets her get through the night without being wakened by the hurt of changing positions in bed.

Anyway, long story short, we walked, albeit slowly, to the Parrot to discover that this Monday's meeting had been moved to Leigh's pool, way over on White Street, and us without the car. We stayed at the Parrot for only one drink, met a some other members of the foundation, Dixie, Cathy and Jim, who also weren't at the pool party. The plan had been to go on from the Parrot to Schooner Wharf, but not that soon. We went anyway.

We got to the intersection of Duval and Eaton, across from St. Paul's, and watched a fight break out between two kids who couldn't have been any older than 15. They were on the steps of 335 Duval, between French Kiss and the ice cream store, and both were throwing punches as fast as they could, locked into each other, finally going to the ground to keep fighting. A couple of guys on the sidewalk came over to try to break it up, one of them going over backwards with the black kid in his arms. Separated now, the white dude on the skateboard scooted on down Duval St. and the black kid got on his bike and pedaled on up Eaton St. with his friend. Sharon told us later that the two had exchanged some kind of words just before the fight broke out.

The VFW on Elizabeth St. was celebrating some sort of anniversary this weekend. The short block of Elizabeth between Caroline and Lazy Way was blocked off and a stage was set up outside the club. There were a few people sitting in palstic chairs in front of the stage, and a couple of musicians were doing sound checks. Janet stopped for a few minutes to buy a Buddy Poppy from the VFW members set up to the left of the stage. She got, as a bonus, a little, plastic American flag. The irony was that the flag is stamped prominently "Made in China".

Lennie and Marty were their usual good selves, and the reggae beat is a good one to listen to anyway, even if the music makers aren't as good as these two. They play more than just reggae, featuring music of the Caribbean islands, and tossing in an African piece occasionally.

Sharon came in at about 8:30, we talked for a whle, then she drove us home to a house now empty but for the dogs.

Today we go exploring on Stock Island.

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