Next up are several cd’s with ‘Brazil’ in the title: Brazil 2Mil/Brazilectro 1&2: these 3 are compilations of fun, funky, ‘modern’ (at the time) remix & new takes of songs with pumped up bass & other studio layering. This is where I first heard Babel Gilberto, Suba & too many others to list. Sultry, sweet & sexy with the disco dance floor in mind.
get Starbucks on the phone
Essential Brazil is another compilation but of more traditional sounds of songs by modern masters: Gal Costa, Jorge Ben, Astrud Gilberto – an excellent introduction with emotional vocals, stunning acoustic guitar work & an abundance of Latin percussion, smooth orchestras, wicked accordion work on tangos & bossa novas.
get Tim Ho’s on the phone
Brazilian Girls is a slight departure but no less sultry & sexy but mostly in English. This is adult contemporary with touches of hip-hop, lots of electronica & some in-your-face songs. Pussy never sounded more tempting.
get 7/11 on the phone
Finally I have Brazilian Guitar Fuzz Bananas: a sublime, superb compilation of mid-60’s pop music full of echo chambers, reverb, distorted vocals & psychedelia as Brazil pop tries to capture the US flower-power explosion. 16 tracks by 16 different bands isn’t enough, but it is all fun. The booklet is amazing too.
My Dad, the Hunter
‘Now this is a black bear my Dad killed when he was your age, son.’
The dusty stuffed bear’s eyes were clouded over, the yellowed fangs were as threatening as the seed pearls on my cousin Sissy’s Sunday gloves.
‘Takes a real man to kill a beast like this son. A real man.’
‘A real man with a real gun.’
‘What, you implicating there that my Dad wasn’t …’
‘Anyone one with a gun could drop something like this. Don’t take no guts to point and shoot.’
‘I’ll have you know them days it weren’t so simple.’
‘Oh that’s right, men had to put the bullets in. Very scary.’
‘This weren’t done with no rifle. Done by hand. With a knife.’ He took a small pen knife off the shelf behind the stuffed bear. ‘This here be the very knife.’
‘Please,’ I couldn’t help laugh. ‘That knife isn’t enough to tweeze that bear’s eyebrows let alone cut through the fur and then the skin and then the fat under the skin.’
‘Think you know it all don’t you.’
‘No, but enough to know a gunshot wound when I see it.’ I pointed the entry wound in the bear’s chest. ‘No pen knife made that scar.’
‘Okay but this is a glaxata my Dad killed when he was first landed in the Blink Quatrant.’
The glaxata was suspended in a thick amber liquid in a tall glass tube. The tendrils moved slightly in the goo that held it. The topmost row of eyes followed me as I stepped back – and then closer.
‘Now, this is something. He use that pen knife on this this too?’
‘As a matter of fact thar weren’t much my Dad couldn’t kill with a pen knife. He wasn’t ashamed of it like some have become. Guns and all don’t hold the same challenge you know.’
‘Yeah I know but …’
‘Nothing.’ I decided to let the tour guide ramble on. After all this was his Dad’s world not mine.
‘Now you know he warn’t my genetic parent, mind you,.’
‘Nope. None so lucky to remain who are his direct descendants. Not even clones exist anymore of the great Dad we all wish we had. We’re coming to the newest exhibit. I’s jis warnin’ ya cause some have fainted dead away at the sight.’
We turned the corner to face a Trantoral Vivanta. It’s large gaping jaw held the remains of a human male.
‘So what do you think of this?’ The guide asked me.
‘Well,’ I said, “This the a Trantoral Vivanta that MY Dad killed with his bare hands when he was your age.’
November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo
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