Monday, January 21, 2008

The Bard, The Balance, The Farmer and the Devil, what could go wrong?

I love listening to live music in this city. It's the selection, variety. This is lacking in my lovely Korea, my homogenous hinterland far across the sea. Everything is the same, same, same so often that I wonder if there are any longer differences in the world. And then I come here and remember everything is different.



There will be more music, to be discussed later. Further reasons why I love this city: the people, and drinking with those people, and talking with those people.



"The sex conversation will be tabled until later." Is how the conversation begins while I sip a bitter martini with the Bard, The Balance, and the Farmer while we drink around a long table. "We await further company," says the Balance. And so we drink and begin our warm up conversation pushing constantly back towards sex with the fixation of a fiend.



Good conversation.



When the final member of our party arrives and sits around the square table the conversation can be had in earnest; and earnest will be had. The topics are a meandering mish mash of meanings that mean nothing unless you are the kind of person who can wallow in words and still tread. The mind, the body, the past the future.



"None of that matters because it's not important to me," says the Balance when I try to explain why I am employable in this country. And my anger spills over because he is right. I do so dislike being wrong.



We talk about music, movies, food, fun, drinking, we move back and forth between the stairs to smoke and the table to drink.



"I could smell the floor cleaner, don't you understand?" The Bard makes a beautiful point. We all nod our head solemnly because we can understand. We grok, this is a group of peers and we get it. And even though we get it we talk anyway because that is the best part.



I drink and ramble and rant in Korean. I stand on the stairs and realize that suddenly the hand in the back of my shirt is not mine. It's belongs to the final member of our party. The mauler. It did not strike me as strange at the time, nor does it now, it was part of the party, part the conversation, part of the mix. Alright, maybe a bit odd, I mean I was mauled, but the Bard came to my rescue by staking her claim to me that night and we all giggled and sipped our drinks and found our way to happy beds.





Drinking, revelry and mild debauchery, among the most fantastic reasons for being in this country with a fair certainty I should think.

5 comments:

EuroYank said...

You have a great blog. The words are beautiful. The story telling is fantastic. I am at a loss for words.
I am glad I discovered this magical world!

Saradevil said...

Well thank you Yank. I'm glad you enjoyed your read and that you have found it a happy discovery. I need to write more, but I'm buggered if I can think about how to keep up with it all the time.

Maybe I should write about buggering.

I see we share the same home town. Welcome to my world in Korea, Mr. Ex-pat from Luxemburg. What do I do to move there?

Tony said...

Hey Sara, you can't move to Luxembourg before me! No Fair!

Hey, I have always like your writing and try to keep up with it. I think it would be a fun and interesting endeavor for you to try your hand at buggering... um, writing about it, that is.

Stormdrane said...

"No matter where you go, there you are."

Your blog is good reading.

Saradevil said...

@ Tony

Maybe we should head over there together. And thanks. I will consider more writing about buggering.

@Stormdrane

I have found that to be always very true.