You’ve seen the photos, now marvel at the video. See! Vasco the Dog and his enormous blue ball! Hear! my slightly clueless singing on “Cielito Lindo”. Marvel! at the Rollerbladers of Brussels. Wonder why Bolivian Indians are dressing up like Navajoes and playing Easy Listening pan-pipe versions of Euro-disco hits on the streets of Europe, all dressed the same and using the same arrangements, selling the same Cd’s and using the same gear from Oslo to Athens. Who sent them? Then marvel at Greek airline’s Star Wars style greeting at Eleftherios Venizelos Airport. I was there, now I am back, soon I will return.
Here we are Monday, she left Saturday and I’m feeling the ache of missing her. My heart, my baby, my darling girl, the last love of my life Maria Panourgia came to see me here in Brussels, my former home for the 16 years from 1982 to 1998. It was such a joy to show her around the site of so many of my former and future exploits, to share with her my new enthusiasm for this aged burg and to close a symmetry with the world line of my past and present by including her.
How strange it is to share with her a history in Brussels that began again in 2003 as though my dark passage through a landscape of despair and toxic chemistry had been cancelled. I have been allowed to do it over and participate in a brighter version of the same town, see the sights that I had somehow missed before with restored vision and unclouded senses. What a miracle this is, my friends, to be granted the grace to begin again. How fine to be alive here, now, today. Thank you oh great one, oh guardian angel, oh myself, oh others oh lord and so on into St. Allen of Ginsberg’s litany of holy from Howl. I live, I die, I’m here, I’m gone.