DAKONDA - Pt. 8 - FINALE

So Dice Stallone wraps up his rousing rendition of "I SAW THE LIGHT" to thunderous applause.  Well, not exactly thunderous.  More like a smattering of polite hand-claps, the air tinged with relief - especially from Shaggy who by now cannot control his nervous twitch - his hands involuntarily jerking forward, a subliminal plea: Please give me back my guitar.  Please just…Please put it down.  PLEASE…

 I throw in one of my trademark SHRILL between-the-front-teeth whistles of enthusiasm and Dice seems to like that.  But then, it seems he needs very little encouragement. 

He then carelessly thrusts Shaggy's guitar - one-fisted by its neck - directly at Shaggy, nearly smashing him in the face with it.  Shaggy grapples, then grabs his guitar - sighs shakily:  Thanks, thanks, man…sounding good…EDDIE….

And then, a shocking detail comes to light, when Shaggy's Gal Pal pipes in as well: "Yes, Eddie - very nice."

SHAGGY AND GAL PAL ACTUALLY KNOW DICE!!!  (And Dice's name is really Eddie!)  Seems they actually INVITED him to Dakonda's shindig!  Dice is some kinda weird neighborhood friend they know…from THEIR neighborhood…!!

Dice booms into the mic:  "OKAY, SO YAZ  HOYD what I can provide ON A MUSICAL LEVEL - AWRIGHT???!?!  But for MY NEXT T'ING - YEAH, I GOT MORE…ANYBODY HERE FAMILIAR WIT'  HENRY ROLLINS?  BLACK FLAG?"

Everyone seems to be holding their breath and The Head Krishna is back on HIGH ALERT - actually, he's been closing in steadily - if a bit ineffectually - all along. 

Dice continues:

"Well, I happen ta be a BIG FAN of da SPOKEN WOYD.  So for my NEXT T'ING, I am gonna share witchoo all a STORY.  NOT A POEM.  NOT A SONG.  A  STORY.  A REAL STORY.  A STORY ABOUT MY MOM." 

Head Krishna decides to move now.  Smiling tautly, voice even tighter, he pronounces: "JUST NO CURSING."

Dice whips his head at Head Krishna: "Say WHAT, my brutha?"

Head Krishna: "I said NO CURSING.  NO BAD LANGUAGE." 

Dice appraises him in a rudely superior manner, nodding.  Goes: "Okay, my brutha.  WHATEVER YOU SAY."

Head Krishna says: "Good. Thanks."  But you can tell he doesn't believe Dice will comply.  None of us do.

Dice, not being one to disappoint, begins:

"MY MOM was a poor woman but she was FUCKIN' PROUD.  PROUDER THAN NINETY-NINE-FUCKIN' PERCENT OF THE POPULATION OF THIS MOTHER FUCKIN' PLANET, GODDAMIT…."

Oh, hurrah…Head Krishna starts to try to say something, but no way baby…

"I REMEMBER my MOM goin' to the OPERA and COMIN' HOME…TELLIN' ME that she cried FUCKIN' TEARS as BIG AS ALLIGATOR SHIT (????) when she heard a song that she liked.  AND DID SHE FUCKIN' CARE?  NO SHE DIDN'T!  This was a PROUD FUCKIN' WOMAN.  FUCK ALL THESE BITCHES WHO TRY TO ACT like they are SOMEBODY - THEY'RE WHORES compared to MY FUCKIN' MOM - A SIMPLE BROOKLYN WOMAN…BUT NEVER A WHORE…"

The Head Krishna has OFFICIALLY had it - he lurches forward yelling: ENOUGH.   DAKONDA simultaneously (and shockingly, since I wouldn't have guessed that he had it in him)  jumps up and flips off the amp that is powering the microphone. 

Dice seems completely prepared for this turn of events.  He steadies himself, standing with his legs and arms braced, WRESTLER-STYLE, against this roomful of poets and Krishna's… he BELLOWS:

"WHAT?  YOU WANNA STIFLE ME?  What are you SCARED OF?  YOUR LIFE is a LIE if you can't hear what I have to say.  YOUR LIFE is SHIT!"

Head Krishna: "ALL WE ARE ASKING IS THAT YOU DON'T USE PROFANITY IN THIS ROOM."

DICE: "WHY?  WHAT MAKES THIS FUCKIN' ROOM SO MUCH MORE SPECIAL THAN ANY OTHER FUCKIN' ROOM???"

Head Krishna: "You miss the point. You should leave.  You are no longer welcome here."

DICE: "I miss WHAT point?  YOU should leave, Zipper-Head, because the POINT is on top of YOUR FUCKING HEAD.  You got shit for brains if you think you can protect yourself from the WORLD - and I AM THE fuckin' WORLD, my BRUTHA.  I am YOUR world whether you like it or not, MY MOTHER-FUCKIN' BRUTHA!!!"

Gal-Pal jumps up:

"EDDIE!  PLEASE!  This is not what this place is about!  We did NOT invite you here to make this kind of scene…"

My head is spinning at this point:  It's just so much pristinely asinine chaos, I tell you.  But at the same time, it is Chekhovian in its pure angst and lack of connection between beings.  I remember longing for a tape recorder then, and I'm just grateful for my memory of  ANY of it now…

Dakonda suddenly grabs his blue solid-body electric guitar - violently plugs it in and starts pounding on it:  A heroic defense mechanism to diffuse the current DICE situation.   It's a 3-chord barrage of annoying, tinny sound.

But IT WORKS.  Dice immediately turns his attention to this mess and starts screaming the lyrics to ALL ALONG THE WATCH-TOWER. 

But then Dakonda starts yelling (never breaking stride with his strumming): "NO NO - THIS IS NOT 'ALL ALONG THE WATCH-TOWER'!!  IT'S MY OWN ORIGINAL SONG.  IT ONLY SOUNDS LIKE 'ALL ALONG THE WATCH-TOWER'…"

And then Dakonda starts screaming his OWN lyrics over the 'ALL ALONG THE WATCH TOWER' chords, that go something like this:

"WE WILL NEVER BE LED…

WE WILL NEVER BE LIED TO…

WE ARE STRONG…WE ARE POWERFUL….

JUST STOP MESSING WITH US…."

And then all the sudden, Dakonda and Dice just decide to TAKE IT OUTSIDE….

Dakonda puts his guitar down, and the rest of us watch stupidly as he and Dice march out the front door of the café` and proceed to debate loudly, out there on the moonlit sidewalk, about the RIGHTS OF BEING ABLE TO CURSE IN PUBLIC SOCIETY.

Well, all I can add about the conclusion of this is that I know for a fact The Utopia Café discontinued their monthly OPEN MIC after that particular event.  So I can always say that I caught the ass-end of that scene…

One can never know where these types of things can lead.  All I can say is that on the particular night that me and Chris attended, it was a welcome diversion.  We were in a rut, and this was exciting.  It was dysfunctional, but exciting.  And it was very much ALIVE...

And ALIVE

Is

GOOD.

* * * * * *

 

Poem To Myself This Evening: 3/19/2013

It's going to

BE

Whatever it Is -

Not mine, not yours

Not she, nor his…

It will just simply

Be

And be as it

Should...

Can't be judged

Can't be budged

Can't be called bad

Nor

Good.

It will only be

Presence

And

Stillness

And

Grace

It's just going to

Be…

So get offa my

Case.

 

 

 

 

DAKONDA - PT. 7

Time has had it's way with me these past couple of weeks, but I have not forgotten that I need to finish this little story... Thanks for sticking with it! ~  ox  ~ L

 

* * * * * *

 

There's a new energy in the room and It/He arrives right about the middle of our previous act - BBB, the iPhone Poet..

 

Dice Stallone (as I immediately mentally dub him) is yet ANOTHER "50-ish, if I were to guess" entertainer to be featured at Dakonda's Illustrious OPEN MIC. 

 

This new force certainly seems one to be reckoned with.  He's a blustering Brooklynite, the body language, mannerisms and enunciations pure Dice Clay with a smidgen of Young Sly Stallone thrown in for good measure (thinking of Sly's  feature film debut in The Lords of Flatbush).

 

Good ole' Dice Stallone, makin' the scene with a genuine swagger (definitely a little hung-over, drunk or on his way to being both):  Hairy barrel-chest poking thru a dingy wife-beater t-shirt.  Some not-quite-faded scarring on his forehead, just above a glass eye.  And listen, I grew up with several friends who sported glass eyes, actually, so I'm pretty confident about being familiar with this particular look.   

 

Now, Dice has a beat-up guitar case that he's hoisting around like it's a machine-gun.  But as he approaches the microphone for his turn at DAZZLING THE CROWD, he suddenly points to Shaggy's guitar that's still propped up in a stand over in the corner. 

Dice: "I think I'm JUST GONNA USE THAT AXE, okay buddy?  Mine is missing a string.  It'll just be easier if we do it this way.  AWRIGHT??!?  WE'RE COOL, RIGHT BUDDY?"

 

Shaggy's face starts twitching - he's terrified of Dice.  He can't even speak,  just shrugs and gives a jerky nod of nearly-comatose assent.  Shaggy's Gal Pal - tho' visibly jumpy at this latest development - remains mute as well.  For now.

"GREAT," Dice booms into the mic, haphazardly attempting to strap on Shaggy's guitar.  He's too barrel-chested for the strap and it needs adjustment, but that's way too much to deal with for Dice, who decides to just hold the guitar spastically in front of him.  So now he's balancing it precariously on one bent knee, since he insists on STANDING while playing…

 

Gal-Pal: (Hisses to Shaggy) "…Oh, no…what if he…?  … He might DROP it…"

 

Shaggy wags his head fiercely at her, wordless:  Don't say anything… DON'T SAY ANYTHING… The poor man is obviously a wreck.

 

Dice launches into his self-intro.  (Oy, these SELF-INTRO's.  In all my years performing, I have never seen or heard such a bunch of grandiose, bombastically verbose mother fuckers!) 

Anyhow…

 

Dice:  "So what the fuck are we all doin' here tonight, HAH?  I tell ya what!  This is a fuckin' CELEBRATION, YA GOT THAT?  A FUCKIN' CELEBRATION of LIFE and MUSIC and FREE-FUCKIN'-EXPRESSION…."

 

Absolutely insane shit.  The delicately demure Krishna Boys at once begin to leave their posts behind the tea counter and hover up near the 'stage' area…

 

You have to remember that this is a very religious bunch, running the joint:   They don't serve alcohol; they don't flush the toilet - if it's only urine in the bowl - and they sure as shit do not fling around F-bombs like Hells Angels. (And over a loud microphone yet, in this little tea-room filled with shelves containing various scrolls and figurines that encourage devout, sacred worship.)

I can tell that the Head Krishna (the one wearing the sharpest-creased, fanciest fedora) is gonna act on this unsuitable eruption of flagrant vulgarity, and soon:  His dark eyes flash and his chiseled jaw clenches forebodingly.    

 

Dice senses it, too, because quite abruptly his cursing harangue ends and now he is HOWLING - Country-Gospel-Style - the old Bible Belt standard "I SAW THE LIGHT"!!!!  And ya know, I gotta say, his singing voice and his guitar-playing are not half-bad!   I mean, he's banging on the thing a little rambunctiously, which is definitely giving Shaggy a mean case of agita - but at least it SOUNDS like something.  Me and Chris even pipe in with some harmonies at the chorus (Praise the Law-awd, I saw the light!)  We're genuinely somewhat cheered to finally be hearing some actual fucking music.  (ß Literally.)

So THIS now throws the Krishna's into a tailspin. Really stops 'em in their tracks. 

Honestly quite the move on Dice's part, to kick off his shtick with some explosive blaspheming only to switch gears and blast into some Ole' Time Religion down here at the Utopia Café`.

 

Yes, Dice is certainly full of surprises.  With even more yet to come…

TO BE CONTINUED….