an old writer and his words

  • A MOMENT

    He would be the first to admitthat he hated most things avant-gardeparticularly when it appliedto either art or music.It was simply a matter of beingin the moment, and he knewyou could not be ahead of timefor there was only the momentin which you were in.

    Lou Faber

  • CAT (PSYCH)OLOGY

    It wasn’t until I hitmiddle age, which on my scalewill allow me to live past 100,that I discovered that catsare Celtic deep in their hearts.Our cat, she who adopted meand forced her then ownerto marry me, like it or not,was in love with the tin whistleand the uilleann pipes playinghad her in my lap, unmoving.But…

    Lou Faber

  • THE CLUB

    It’s jazz, it’s a club,but there what once wasis no more, there areno ashtrays on the table,overflowing early intothe second set, no cloudof cigarette smoke descendingfrom the too dark ceiling.There is no recognizable odorof a freshly lit Gaulloise,in the trembling fingers ofa young man trying to look cool,trying not to cough on eachinhalation, in the…

    Lou Faber

  • HAIL AND FAREWELL

    On very dreary daysI like to drive through the cemeterymeandering among the stonesuntil I find a freshly dug grave.I stop, under the vigilant eyeof the caretaker and carefully placea cassette of Dvorak’s Slavonic Dancesor Smetana’s Die Moldau into the player.As the melodies spill forthI hope they lift the spiritof the resting, bringing them a momentof…

    Lou Faber

  • THE REST OF THE STORY

    It should be the storiesbehind the stories that get told.We have to blame the songwritersI suppose, telling only the partof the story they choose, leaving usto sit and wonder, no answers, forthcoming.We all know what happened to Billie Joeand the damned Talahatchee Bridge, but howdid Becky Thompson snare the brotherand for that matter, why Tupelo?And…

    Lou Faber

  • TUESDAY TRUTH: BROTHER JOHN

    Are you serious? You have the temerity to ask me if I am sleeping? Seriously? If, for a moment, you thought that I was sleeping, why in hell would you jostle me and then ask me if I was sleeping? And how many times do I have to tell you that I never liked the…

    Lou Faber

  • THE CLASSICS

    He says he has always hated classical music,and would rather listen to nails dragged across a chalkboard.He has been out of school for many years so Isuspect he no longer realizes what nailson a chalkboard really sounds like, how evenopera, which I can’t tolerate, would be preferable.He rattles off a list of composers he despises,Mozart,…

    Lou Faber

  • A SONG FOR A LOVER

    It is hard, looking back, to recalljust how many hours I spent searchingwith a fair amount of diligence for justthe right song to express my love.Most often I would find it,but only after that love had beenreplaced by another, demandinga new song — you cannot usethe same song for two different loves,that crosses well over…

    Lou Faber

  • THE GIFTS

    They brought him myrrh on a flaming salver and all he could do was say “This is something I would expect from a butcher or a carpenter, and the camera angles would never work, so bring me napalm or punji stakes that we have proven to work.” They brought him ripe oranges and the sweet…

    Lou Faber

  • BACK IN THE DAY

    My uncle and I would sneak away from the seemingly endless party, no one wanted to attend and couldn’t leave. We go up to my room and turn on the radio. He’d want to look for the Senators game, but they’d left town and no radio could pull in Minneapolis anyway, but despite Killebrew, Arbitron…

    Lou Faber