I have never seen The Rolling Stones in concert. The films about their tours, as well as their music videos, tend to focus on Mick Jagger. This is understandable; the veteran front man is incredibly charismatic.
Well, Charlie Watts passed away yesterday at the age of 80. He was an amazing drummer, without a strike or splash out of place. Until I watched this video, I hadn’t noticed how spare his kit was, and how much he got out of it. He wasn’t splashy, but he was brilliant.
Hi, everyone. It’s another blistering-hot day here in the Silicon Valley; I’m sitting here with a Zoom meeting in the background and a fan aimed at my head, because our house is not air-conditioned (fairly common with mid-century homes in our area). Plus, I’m prepping for a day job business trip. So, there’s a lot going on. Still, I want to share a snippet with you this week that I think you’ll enjoy, as well as a song. Please enjoy this snippet from the fourth entry in my Pocketful of Stories series, Down on the Corner of Love. This section is from one of the present-day tales, which closes the loop on the historical fiction part of the book.
Laurie got to the café late one day; her car wouldn’t start and she took the bus across town. She started to apologize to Miss Julie, who merely waved her off.
“Girl, sometimes those things happen. Now, take a minute to calm yourself and listen to the music; I’ve got the tables covered.”
Indeed, there was music. Amos was sitting with another man and both of them were playing guitar. The second man had dark hair and blue eyes; there was a distinct family resemblance between the two. He was singing an old Dorsey Burnette song about how he fell in love in Texas, and the two … brothers, Laurie supposed … were grinning from ear to ear and clearly enjoying themselves. After the song was over, Laurie joined the customers and staff in their applause.
And then a penny dropped for her.
As Amos was putting away his guitar, she approached him.
“I’ll get to work in just a second, I promise. But I need to ask you something. You were the singer for Big Muddy back in the day, weren’t you.”
“Guilty as charged,” he smiled. “That was a long time ago.”
“I loved your band. I’m sure I still have a tape somewhere.”
“Amos,” the other man interrupted, “are you going to introduce me to this lovely lady?”
“Laurie, this is my brother Riley. Well-known gad-about and rolling stone, trifling man, and fatal charmer. Watch yourself.”
Riley winked at Laurie. “He always says the nicest things about me.”
Want your own copy of Down on the Corner of Love? Here are the back cover copy and purchase links.
To find love…
…she needs to meet someone who understands her.
Being a civil rights activist isn’t easy in rural Louisiana. Raine’s found herself ostracized and alone because she’s a woman who speaks her mind.
Fed up, she leaves her country world behind for beautiful San Francisco, where the culture is thriving with exciting new music and fashion.
These are her people.
Raine meets a new best friend, Jo, who is free-spirited and living life to the fullest, but Jo’s entangled in more danger than Raine’s ready for.
Raine’s world turns upside down when she meets the most far out man she’s ever encountered.
Readers who love history, flower power, and the wild times of the 1960s will be wowed by Down on the Corner of Love.
This edition of Pocketful of Stories also contains a sample from Sharon E. Cathcart’s award-winning novel, Bayou Fire.
Today is a sad day for me. Danae‘s public viewing is this afternoon in Portland, Ore., and her funeral is tomorrow. I mentioned that this beautiful young woman is the second murder victim I’ve known; as surreal as it is for me, I can only imagine what it is like for the family members.
So today, instead of a book review, I raise a parting glass to Danae K. Williams, and to Stephanie Rodriguez, my colleague who was murdered 18 years ago.
I’m having a lot of stress from my day job. I put in a 12-hour day on Monday, and spent the past two days in a virtual conference that started at 7 AM my local time. I manage a global program for two divisions of our firm, and it’s a lot to take care of.
As many of you know, I’m also president of my local chapter of Sisters in Crime. The pandemic came along when our chapter was only six months old, so that’s a challenge in and of itself. However, I am worn out with the challenges that come from apparent member expectations that they need simply sit back and let someone else take care of everything. My board have all been great, but we are all stretched thin for a variety of reasons. I’ve had to send out an e-mail saying it’s time for some frank talk about the future of the chapter.
I’m in FB jail (again) for hurting the feelings of an angry, white dude whose credible threats of violence against women were deemed acceptable under terms of service, but my two-word response was enough to net me 30 days in the hole. I’ll just be over here channeling Steve Marriott.
I don’t love MeWe. I doubt I’ll stay over there … but at least I’ve claimed my profile.
My second Pfizer jab is tomorrow. I will be glad to have it in the rearview mirror and, after the two weeks necessary to obtain theoretical full immunity, I want nothing so much as to see some also-vaccinated friends, even if all we do is sit in the backyard and yell to one another.
Two of the six cats who need to be “fixed” in our feral colony have had their surgeries. One of them has had kittens, and I have no idea where she’s stashed them — or how many there are. So, the beat goes on in that regard.