... ship sail, sail fast ...

... a ship floated out of here last evening ... into the grey back wall of a modest storm ...
... all tin-pan and turquoise rail ... plexiglass accent out rigging sleep decks ...
... layered white circuitboard ... chevrons of lifeboat roe seed ...
... sit stolid on the water ...

... en route ...

... I love watching cruiseships ... slip off into night ... but this time I had cause to pause ...

... if this was coastal Louisiana ...

... adventure invaded by raw crude ... top-kill drop on a delta-wide dream scene ...
... tar-stained hull siding ... contaminated ... with grease ...

... streak and globule ...
... no more briny lung full ... whipped-up ocean seaspray ...
... instead ...

... devilist carbo-chemical pungency ...

... provoked by Big Petroleum turmoil ...

... what now? ... sail around? ...

... Distant Relatives ...

... "if this world were mine/I'd play rub-a-dub all the time"... you'll sometimes hear me spontaneously sing this out in my best Dennis Brown style, as if to broadcast the contentment a reggae soundtrack brings to my very heartbeat ... when I mix-up my selection with other styles of Jamaican music or hybrids thereof, and intersperse chosen tracks from non-Jamaican genres, I find I can enjoy continuous musical companionship ... I've collected audio this way forever and do appreciate other music-forms ... so, when I experience a tasty tune, a solid LP/CD or cross-genre fusion, I indulge my sensory need by extending the collection...

... enter the Nasir Jones-Damian Marley alliance ...















... Nasir bin Olu Dara Jones is a pre-eminent New York rapper and son of Mississipian jazz'n'blues musician Olu Dara (if the birthers ask), "Nas" needs no introduction to the hip-hop world ... Damian Robert Nesta Marley a.k.a. "Jr. Gong" also bears the name of his father ... the Iron, Lion, Zion scion of his lineage ... his mother, Cindy Breakespeare, won the 1976 Miss World Competition ...

... in spite of this princely pedigree ... or perhaps because of it ... the aristocratic duo forged a strong relationship in studio and on stage ... and straight to the ears of each other's core audience ...














... it should be noted that the recent "Distant Relatives" CD is only the latest fruit of their joint effort ... and that it was a long time in the making rather than a hastily convened affair ... significant too that musicians were in-studio with the vocalists ... resulting in a rewardingly cohesive stand-alone work ... eloquent and contemporary in content yet traditional in concept ...













... perfomer ego is an easily identifiable tendon in the muscle fibre of Hip-Hop, and frankly, a large part of why we buy it when we do ... or reject it when we find ourselves discomfited by it's more uncompromising tones ... similarly ... regurgitative versions of "the half that's never been told"(another reference to a Dennis Brown classic) and millenarian Rastafarian themes can cause a listener to move and groove in approval, or close-up and pose-off if left cold by the message ... Nas and Junior Gong know that one way to eschew ego and regurgitation is to skew toward the often-imitated-but-never-duplicated Bob Marley model ...













... lo and behold ... there's ample room onstage for conscious message, dancehall skank, Hip-Hop hype, colorful urban-lingo, two-finger gunshot salutes and a couple of maturing princes under the banner of Bob Marley's Ethio-visionary worldview ... the result is an assuredly honest collaboration worthy of props inside and outside artificial human borders ... these figurative distant relatives make modern music in a philosophical state of unity (or I-nity if you can dig it) ... served up and followed up by tours, TV talk-shows, press-junkets and special appearances ...














... to dismiss conviction of purpose and sincere belief in this mission as preaching ... or to judge song titles like "Count Your Blessings"or "Patience" (two of my faves) as light or trite in sentiment, is as egregious as adding negative stigma to the word "liberal"... and twice as damaging to one's edification ...













... upliftment for Africa at home and abroad is the aim here ... the philanthropic use of generated proceeds and serious countenance of these "riddim piranhas/like two Obamas," bespeaks a common calling and sense of purpose ... the sort of thing that elevates better music above other good music ... this is exemplified on "My Generation" which successfully updates the last track on the Melody Makers 1991 album "Jahmekya"... Joss Stone and Lil Wayne are drafted in on that one for more width ... elsewhere, strategic Stephen Marley vocals and co-production chops add weight ... and ... there's the late, great Dennis Brown again, sampled on "Land Of Promise" to rootsify the proceedings ...













... guest appearances by Somali-Canadian rapper K'naan add extra Africa to great effect including a cool turn on the summarising final track "Africa Must Wake Up"... which incidentally can segue sweetly into "T.I.A." (This Is Africa), first cut on his own release "Troubador", which features a "Simmer Down" Bob Marley sample ... K'naan's link to Africa's World Cup 2010 with "Wavin' Flag", and Damian's appearance on that CD too, ties it all together appropriately ... which is the whole point innit, One Blood/One Love ... movement of Jah people ...











... no matter how you cut it, this recording is a Marleyesque statement ... that it partners seamlessly with Nas and K'naan's Hip-Hop agenda seems the most natural thing in the world ...

... "Distant Relatives" had me at "As We Enter", the irresistable opener subsequently co-opted for a slam-dunk dubplate remix for Stone Love ... back in the day, my own grandparents lived one minute above where Damian lived as a toddler, at the foot of Russell Heights in Kingston, Jamaica ... passing by, I'd curiously crane my neck to catch a glimpse of this golden child of famous parentage ... now he's a hard-working standard-bearer of his father's unstoppable legacy and a bridge-builder through intelligent collaborations and his own solo output ...

... see 'ow t'ings work? ... keep it locked ...

... y viva Espana ...

... a rousing chorus of "Y Viva Espana" will echo for at least four years following Spain's triumph over The Netherlands and the world in a gritty Sunday kickabout yesterday in Johannesburg, South Africa ... the rest of us would do well to learn some of their silky ball control and the choral refrain of that song ...












... in the aftermath of the month-long tourney I feel like a glutton who has eaten too much of his favourite food, washed it down with a pint of Guinness and topped it off with a rich chocolate bar ... the World Cup for me is a sumptuous stew of stimulants ...

... foremost of course are the games themselves, but there's also this boyhood pipedream that will never go away ... imagine playing in such a high-profile showcase, dribbling around tackles to score a super-goal or three ... if you've ever laced on a pair of boots you'll not only know what I mean, but you'll also forgive my going from the sublime to the ridiculous by including a photo of this bunch of unlikely lads ...













... the modern game, with its hierarchies, tactical approaches, theatrics, personalities, gamesmanships and economics, gets to preen at regularly scheduled competitions ... paramount is the gran'daddy of 'em all, the FIFA World Cup, which is all that and football too, lest we lose sight of the eleven-a-side, battle-for-the-ball aspect of the spectacle ... and what a spectacle! ...












... the 2010 incarnation, like all the others that preceded it, had its share of talking points ... the recurring beefs about the ball and the referees are nothing new if you are familiar with the beast, nevertheless, the monumental undertaking served up enough sporting entertainment to provide me another landmark against which to calibrate any retrospective of my life, via memories World Cups stretching back to 1970 ... the English have even kept the spectre of the previous one alive, ho hum ...

... but this one was a little bit different ...
















... enter the red, gold and green of Africa ... the HD-3D update, forty years since TV's first technicolor Cup coverage ... the sights and sounds were even more global than usual with a prominent afrocentricity building on previous Cameroon, Senegal, Jamaica and Trinidad & Tobago campaigns ...

... plaudits to FIFA for 'lowing the vuvuzelas ... challenging yes, but we all had so much fun saying the word, didn't we? ... especially the American media who were engaged as ever over the veracity of the very sport itself ... truth is it really doesn't matter what the haters think of the offside rule and diving (FIFA euphemistically calls it "simulation"), scoreless scorelines or the pretty-boy coiffure ... the growth of this sport is inexorable by definition ... if yu 'ave foot, yu can kick ball ...

... notably, and true to the nature of this movement, the U.S.A., and their style of play, is one of the bright beacons on the horizon ... indefatigable heart beats in that team and it is reflective of the national character ...

... New Zealand was the only undefeated team on the field ... Switzerland made a lot of friends and hopefully fewer folks will mix up Ghana with Guyana now ... don't fret, Brazil will recover, the football they played in the first half of the quarter-final they lost to The Netherlands strutted the elusive panache they were accused of lacking ... a big-match contribution from Ronaldinho might have flipped that script ... but alas ...

... in the unforgettable department, I nominate the Asamoah Gyan overtime penalty drama in the Ghana/Uruguay affair, and the goal-line officiating gaffe when Germany made the proverbial penny drop in England ... (speaking of goal-line gaffes, remember Robert Green?) ... that Carlos Puyol header is still bulging the net, just like Siphiwe Tshabala's opening strike for Bafana Bafana ... Van Bronkhorst's drive, Maicon's improbable near-post swerver and Forlan's classy volley ... plus, I'll watch Lionel Messi play any chance I get ... seeing is believing ...

... when there are so many individual storylines and the attention of the world is tuned in to one frequency, it's a great time to relay a message ... the powers that be came up trumps with Nelson Mandela and polishing up the Say No To Racism campaign ...












... a positive sentiment in any arena but particularly so in futbol where "there's work to be done - so let's do it little by little", as the Marley lyric goes ... discernably, amid the din I heard Bob singing "Could You Be Loved" at every match ... a so it fi go, considering how intertwined reggae sensibilities are with both football and Africa ... check Stephanie Black's film Africa Unite ...














... Brazil is ground-zero in four years and you can bet Bob Marley will be there to "Lick Samba" ... I'll be watching too, enjoying the global swagga-flex that should be a substitute for war ... though admittedly, it could easily spark conflict as well ...

... yep, in 2014 I'll have one eye on the game's global relevance ... the other eye will be on the lookout for that diminutive World Cup mascot (who is likely to re-appear in the country whose icons he repeatedly belittles with tracing tongue), if only to witness his one kick of a next-generation Jabulani on the biggest of stages ...

















****
Post Script addendum: - Jamaicans will get "a kick" out of the writing credits for the Spanish pop standard "Y Viva Espana" ... ... seems it was co-written by one Eddie Seago (sic.)

****

... mango walk an' talk ...

... "in Antigua ev'ryt'ing come wit' de rain"... so said my bredrin as he led me off the beaten track into the bush where his friend lives amid bountiful surroundings ... cosseted and sustained by fruit bearing foliage of myriad description ...

... leaving the road ... well past the point where pavement becomes dirt and stone ... diving into underbrush at the threadbare tamarind tree ... sweeping aside tall sharp Guinea grasses suitable for feeding livestock or medicinal teas (we have no ailments or cattle) ... ignoring ripening Noni fruit (too labour-intensive) ... and avoiding the prickly pineapple slips underfoot ... our mission is straightforward ... the objective is mango ...













... the ascendant Jamaican country-bwoy in me should not have been surprised at the variety of types of mango I found in this one location ... but perhaps for that very reason I pulsated with craven excitement as I climbed tree after tree to sample and choose specifically targeted fruit ...

... shape and size ... colour and smell ... texture and degree of ripeness ... not to mention taste ... all mangoes are not created equal ... and when the season arrives in The Caribbean the connoisseur can afford to be fussy ... with hundreds of extant varietals (e.g. Nevis alone boasts over forty) there's plenty to choose from ... these three are even called Choice ...












... I invariably measure each mango against my all-time favourites ... Uncle Stan's incomparable East Indian mango, the ever-popular St. Julian (Julie), the little-known Tringram hybrid planted at my childhood home ... a curiously shaped Thai import with a flat seed that I paid an arm-and-a-leg for in Vancouver's Chinatown some time ago ... and top of the heap I rate the rounded, Indian-derived, Jamaican Bombay ... the one with the distinctively nubile looking, nipple-ish-tip ...

... but ... I'm further afield now and already this season I've enjoyed several new (to me) locally grown mango types ... I'm currently fanning on a Bombay aspirant called Sensation, which lives up to its name ...

... it mek me waa' write a poetry I a tell yu ...

... soft to the touch, must take a taste ...

... when fruits ripe ain't no time to waste ...

I'll have one of each and more of the best ... tasty, tart, j-j-juicy and sweet ... firm, sufficient flesh, at once eaten and drank ...

from under beguilingly hued, smooth cheekskin flank ...

irresistable, fragrant and sticky...

... and I'm still just talking about mangoes ...

... Battlescar Ontario ...

... sometimes in the combustive high drama of geo-political theatre you get a damp squib ... but this latest production of Summit G20 turned out to be a big deal ... a sort of coming out for Toronto, Ontario and Canada as a political stooge ... I mean ... stage ... a pretty ideal spot for a convention, eh, with its focal financial and shopping districts, two-line subway and that orderly, grid-like streetplan ...

... as we've seen, one of the problems in staging events with lofty agendas ... the South African World Cup, Vancouver's Olympics ... or a G20 summit ... is the actual cost and the not-always-obvious returns on the investment to the people who make up the local social infrastructure ... then there are those terms of fiscal inexactitude like ..."a billion dollars" ... that get tossed around as if rounding a figure to the nearest hundred-million is clarifying ... (can we get a G20 for two G8's and save ourselves 4G?) ...

... certainly one could see where the ... bulbous ... security budget from T-dot to Huntsville was deployed ... there were threats from all quarters ... real and perceived it matters not ... 'cos due dilligence is non-negotiable when anyone throws a party for such a high-profile gathering of guests ...

... the security forces seem to have worked close to the blueprint in tackling these threats ... but this remains troubling justification for the disproportionate hyper-expenditure it took to do so ...

... to those who watch these things, it has become de rigeur for summits of this kind to draw attention from public watchdogs, legitimately-motivated torch or cross-bearers and antagonistic contrarians ... it is within that latter group that you'll find the instigators and perpetrators of wanton destruction ... who by their actions seek to leave their mark in anti-social ways often to their own detriment and no-one's net gain ... like this angst-ridden saboteur who might have done better to stay away entirely ...













... inside the convention centre some global bargaining took place between football matches ... round-table, bi-lateral, in-camera, al fresco talks were held ... hands was shook (where's the fist-bump gone?) ... with the World Press Corps there to disseminate it all ...

... outside, shock-and-awe was droppin' on some anarchist ass and throngs got to hang close enough to say they were there when the rubber bullets flew ... I had just left town when the flex went down but they hit my Starbucks on Queen Street at John ... true to form the broken window instantly became art ...















.. if this all sounds cynical you shoulda heard me when I mentally flipped the script back to football and subbed Obama for Palin during the summary presidential Q&A ... every question was a potential Deep Water Horizon and had a trickier follow-up ... in other words ... Palin kryptonite ...

... nuff said ... when I stopped cringing I flushed that thought down the commode and moved on to contemplate the sheer enormity of the job the POTUS has on his hands ... engaged hotspots are ever-active and the U.S. is literally bleeding oil at the mouth of the Mississipi ... personally I'm thinkin' Barack should regulate that money-smile ... he's clearly familiar with the nuanced Jamaican phrase ... 'kin teet' ... (interptation; "skin teeth" - to smile, perhaps even obsequiously or disingenuously) ... it's handy in such crowds ...

... aaand when the smoke clears there are documents glittering in smiling promise but clouded by clause and condition ... agreements in principle at best ... leaving me to wonder if world leaders were to deal with the serious stuff in less distractingly overt fora ... develop a collaborative, Skype-type, HD cyber-summit to take care of the show-biz angle ... could they re-allocate funds for future gigs? ... I'm jus' sayin' ...

... in the run-up to the World Cup there were premonitions of crime and social unrest ... or hooliganism (which has not materialised despite an officiating faux pas or two) ... that this Ontario summit should be the scene of such babylonian behaviour while South Africa has held together is an irony which will please Pretoria but may mortify the Maple Leaf ...

... Papa's pride in the progeny ...

... this June carries with it a preoccupation with football ... for a growing number of us the quadrennial World Cup has the power to obliterate other concerns and commemorations ... for me, mid-June dates also prompt thoughts on fatherhood ... Father's Day falling, as it does, on or around my dad's birthday of June 19th ...

... the late Doctor, seen here c.1972 if memory serves me, surveying the kingdom of San Francisco, had journeyed there from Jamaica to be inducted as a Fellow of the American College of Surgeons (F.A.C.S.) ... four more letters to add to the M.D., F.R.C.S. ... all of which featured on letterhead, and in bronze on his office-door at Spanish Town Hospital ...












... he lived long enough to experience grandfatherhood through me and narrowly missed the birth of my twin nephews, but ... the old man survives in memory and photographs as we fast-forward through next generations, where it is left to his progeny, my brother and I, to buck trends of errant fatherhood in raising our own children ...















... we've all heard the platitude "they grow up so fast," - more a measure of our unceasing wonderment at creation of life and lives, than any exponential increase in physicality and size ... still, it's probably true that today's wired world thrusts wider variety of adult behaviour on ever younger people ...

... anyhow ... grow up they do and adults they become ... as parents it's hard not to feel pride and joy when children emerge through developmental stages or achieve something they've put effort into ... this year, Father's Day found me counting extra blessings for I was now a positively proud Papa to a bonafide University Grad. ... I conspired to attend the ceremony, happily capturing images from my seat in the wings of the crowded Toronto auditorium ...















... watching kid number one ... it seemed only a short while ago she was reading Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein ... now she was holding a Bachelor's degree in Journalism ... the latest achievement in a life that has consistently lived up to promise ... my pride in her must have bolstered her own pride in herself , strengthening self-esteem - a crucial requirement for dealing with future challenges, over which I'm certain she'll prevail ...














... kid number one-too ... calling him number two is not an option (wink) ... only sixteen months her junior, is also a source of Papa-pride ... with a different flava ... he's taken to rapping alongside a seventies-style rock band in Vancouver ... handling covers and original rhymes with a flair to make this musically keen Dad proud and slightly jealous ... y'see, every actor is a wannabe musician, in the same way so many singers seem to want movie careers ...














... his rude-boy rap, wisely minimising cliche and nodding consciously toward graffiti-ganja culture is spiced mildly with a ragga-reggae vibe in homage to his Van-sterdam/Jamaican roots ... old-school lyrical flow melds creatively with cool-classic rock runs provided by his band of talented homies, and it all comes together nicely in concert ... seen 'em gig twice now and swell with pride looking at the pics I took ... that he still persists at the day-job doubles my respect ... hey, it's a Dad's prerogative ...














... they're grown now yet they'll always be my kids ... the ones who ultimately taught me the truth behind some of my father's more curmudgeonly pronouncements, particularly the common admonishment "wait 'til you have kids of your own"... loosely interpreted, and giving the benefit of doubt, he could have simply meant "fatherhood is one helluva ride" ...

... the eight year old step-daughter I'm helping to raise now asked for a second helping of broccoli tonight ... I felt that familiar approving pride ... here we go again, aren't kids supposed to gag on the greens? ...

... I guess it's all relative ... pun intended ...

... sound Africa's trumpet ...

... the plastic replica souvenir cost eight Canadian dollars and I had no change in pocket so my friend Stevie picked it up for me until I could pay him back ... come to think of it, I'm not sure if I ever did ... so, I may have acquired my vuvuzela for free at Vancouver's home match against St.Louis back in April ... I've been blowing the plastic horn lustily from then on and particularly since the start of the World Cup in South Africa ...

... every four years I'm one of those who tries to watch all the matches, a fantastic way to see the world without the expense of travel ... there are no Caribbean teams among the thirty-two finalists this year, but we get six African outfits and the curious representation from North Korea - in the same tourney as South Korea, at a time of heightened geo-political tensions no less, threatening the mouthwatering possibility of a battle-by-ball, if the teams actually meet during the competition ...

... as always, there are the world's beautiful women in full regalia on show, and points-of-interest at each match-up, other than the game itself, are multiple and stimulating ...

... I can (and do) wax lyrical about African soil hosting sport's greatest extravaganza for the first time ... there are the South African Reconciliation and Mandela factors, patriotisms and post-colonial retributions, the wall-of-noise vuvuzela soundtrack in the stadia, the Jabulani-Ball aerodynamics too, but in the end it's the on-field exploits that are the real story ...

... watching the Argentinians strut their embarrassment of riches has been fulfilling so far and I for one appreciate the delicious spectacle of Messi-dona and supporting cast ... despite the absence of playmaker Riquelme, the Argentine bench could be the backbone of another complete team ... with Diego Maradona's son-in-law Sergio Aguero the prince-in-waiting ...

... it's too early at this stage (less than halfway through the roundrobin stage) to make definitive pronouncements, but certain storylines are clearly taking shape, like the familiar one of English great expectations ... ahh, those heirs to that '66 curse, you know, when Bobby Moore and his merry men won on home turf, forever causing England to rate itself among the world's best despite all indicators ... I write this after watching a 0-0 draw with Algeria, the least impressive display by the Brits in a long line of disappointing major competitions ...

... English hand-wringing has amped up several degrees ... only two matches into this tournament finds the blogosphere alive with the kind of acerbic witticisms no one does better than the British ... "at the risk of hyperbole, this is possibly the worst result since 1066," quoth one ...

... the pundits are blunt, spiking commentary with adjectives like "tossers," "wankers," and "shite"... so much so that one is inclined to believe any lay-expert could make team improvements without difficulty given the patchy results of the high-profile managerial appointments that are now the norm ...

... there's probably a restructuring formula that could work in the long run but I'd like to suggest English football take a leaf from the Scrabble playbook ... sometimes it's better to cut your losses ... return your cards to the jumble and draw a new hand ... hey, if it's good enough for the Brazilians ... ...

... while African sides cling to hopes of advancing further than ever before and usual suspects try to adapt to a leveling out of standards which can result in closer contests and more frequent upsets ... the public should try to stay in touch with the evolving nuances of the world game and the fine "art" of gamesmanship ... each successive Mondiale pulls the drawstrings of global community tighter, and somehow we emerge better for it ...

... the winds sweeping across Africa this summer, out over the oceans in every direction, carry the challenging sound of the vuvuzela ... like it or not we will all surely know it ... and knowledge is power...

... after the football finale, when all is said and done, there will be one World Champion, and whole world of winners ...

... and, likely, one or two whiners.

... Melrose on the fly ...

... I'm not certain how to assess the extent to which I was seduced by the typical tapestry of Los Angeles media subtlety ... the billboards were everywhere and I developed an unexpected urge to see Iron Man 2 ... on opening weekend no less ... the character of the City of Angels hasn't changed much since I lived there for a brief stint some years ago ... and while Melrose Avenue has seen significant transitions, it remains as good a place as any to get a taste of the place if time is limited ...














... three or four years flew by since I last had the luxury of an afternoon to kill in L.A. ... the ubiquitous Christian Audigier namecheck and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art banners hyping Renoir's 20th Century work served to remind me that splash is expected with any type of product here ... and ... that this is no one-horse town ...

... there are more cars in L.A. these days fo' sho ... and more people passing through from elsewhere ... I somehow knew I'd run into a familiar face ... that it happened in a vintage emporium called Wasteland means what exactly? ...














... though I've heard L.A. called a land of waste, it's not that it is an actual "wasteland" ... indeed ... here there's a penchant for re-selling used clothing and it spills out from the stores into impromptu street-marts set up in parking lots and sidestreets ...













... in this urban fame capital I saw no celebs but trod where one of the biggest of 'em all walked ... MJ loved the appropriately named quaint little landmark at 7325 Melrose ... Off The Wall Antiques and Weird Stuff ... which for all it's worth resembles a glorified ye-olde-pawn-shoppe ... or ... judging by that day's sidewalk display, perhaps that should be prawn? ...














... with so much style for sale there's no shortage of takers for a quick hit of the spotlight ... the glam lure conspires to attract everyone ... not just on screen but in print ... glossy free street mags could be found in every-other shop along my route that warm afternoon ... seems ev'rybody be lookin' for copy, bylines or portfolio ... one curbside fashion shoot invited my gaze and didn't care how long I gawked ...













... some peeps make their noise with a flashy ride and a look-at-me attitude ... no fewer than five LAPD cruisers were drawn to the driver of this white rolling statement ... just another live act in the land of showbiz ... requisite paparazzi kneeled in the middle of traffic for long-lens shots but I couldn't identify the perp ... I do know that it wasn't Rodney King or O. J. Simpson ... nor did it appear to be David Hasselhoff or a Lohan ...














... in the time it took me to walk to my easternmost turnaround point and head back westward, the billboards I had noticed earlier were screaming the release of Hollywood's next blockbuster, Sex And The City 2, electronically flipping between present hype and ever-present next big thing ...

... as if life was imitating art, I espied a scene seemingly inspired by Carrie Bradshaw herself ... fit legs, fine threads 'n' all, conjuring images of 8th Avenue in Manhattan, or Fifth ... a passing Lexus flossin' a Florida license plate underlined the American cosmopolitanism of the Golden State ...














... this guy was late for class ... perhaps very late I mused ...














... still, here's betting he knew Melrose Avenue more than I ... may've even watched the 1,200,000 sq. ft. Pacific Design Center go up in the seventies ... he prob'ly saw it get added onto in the eighties, and knew what building was there before that ...














... the structure sometimes referred to as The Blue Whale occupies a long city block ... my tired legs could attest ... fittingly the nostalgic stroll ended near there, the diversity of facilities within mirroring the diversity of sights and experiences of a few hours out 'n' about on Melrose ... I could do it again and come up with an entirely different report ...

... ah well, nex' trip ...