Tavel

Originally Posted Sunday, December 1, 2013

We all like to think that we deserve better than what we have, but we don't.  As Will Muny says in "The Unforgiven," if we got what we deserved, we'd all starve to death. 

I worked in the studio most of the day trying to figure out some new things.  I tried and tried, but it all came to crap.  No loss, though.  I know not to try those things again.  And I visited with the artist behind me and got some ideas for things I want to do.  So did he.  That 's the way that those things work. 

Tonight I was too tired and worn out to cook, so I got take out Thai. And then I stopped at the liquor store and got a bottle of Hendrix gin.  Boy that stuff is good.  I've been saving the bottles.  They are impressive.  I will store things them and label them.  You will see.  There will be a picture some day. 

I also bought a bottle of Tavel wine.  It was a favorite of A.J. Liebling.  Tavel was his wine of choice. . . maybe because it was cheap.  He talks about it in his wonderful book, "Between Meals."  If you haven't read it. . . but of course you have. 

Liebling, for some reason, was a favorite of James Salter.  Perhaps it was Liebling that interested him in France when he was in the Army.  Liebling was an overweight, self-indulgent man, but by all accounts he was a lady's man, too.  He liked food and drink and women.  There is something. 

He also wrote an amazing book on boxing called "The Sweet Science."  It was one of my favorite reads a long, long time ago.  I would have to read it again to tell you now. 

But I thought of Leibling when I saw the Tavel and bought it outright.  I have not been sorry.  It is something different.  It is. . . good.  At least it wasn't awful with the yellow curry with chicken and the Thai noodle soup.  It is pink and served cold. 

I am interested in things I have not tried.  I must try them all before I die.  Tavel.  I can't believe I've not tried it 'til now. 

After dinner, I sat on the deck and smoked a small cigar, a cheroot, perhaps, and drank a scotch and listened to the Hebrew celebration coming over the loud speakers from Country Club College.  It sounded foreign until the man on the microphone yelled, "Happy Hanukah!"  Then the Hebrew music began. 

A cat, a cigar, Tavel, and good Hebrew music outside on the deck.  Man. . . life is good. 

But I am too much alone, and I must remedy that.  I can, and I might.  But tonight. . .no es problemo. 

I will go somewhere soon.  I am thinking Brazil, but maybe something closer and easier.  Puerto Rico? The Dominican Republic?  Or, if I feel the devil. . . C.U.B.A.  Something soon, though.  We shall see. 

*     *     *     *     *     

I fell asleep in front of the television again.  Woke up and went to bed.  Woke up again and went back to sleep.  At six, I got up for good.  Runny nose and the runs.  Thai food, I think.  It was the Yellow Curried Cat dish.  That's not exactly how they advertise it on the menu, but there should be truth in advertising.  And I was planning a trip to Thailand with an old Thai hand, too, but he is having shoulder surgery and will not be able to go.  I don't know if I will go alone.  Thailand is in the midst of a revolution. 

This morning I remembered stepping out the studio door in the early dusk and seeing a girl in a skirt smoking a cigarette dancing around the front yard of the house next door with a hula-hoop.  The front door was open and music was playing and she just kept dancing and twirling so sensually, the hoop never stopping as her hips swayed to and fro, her bare feet gently gliding on the grass yard.  I sat in my car and watched her for five minutes.  She only stopped when the cigarette was finished.  I wanted to stay and watch to see if she began again, but I was feeling like a peeper, so reluctantly I started the car and drove away.  I have never seen her before, but I will be looking for her now forever.