waiting for koos
it was 1920. i was at back to basix waiting for koos kombuis to pitch. i was sipping my double jameson, dash of lime, no ice. i was feeling slow brewed extra matured. back to basix was gradually coming to life. the service was terrible but what does it matter, you only live twice. i was forty two years old. size nine and a half shoes. but the half sizes don’t get catered to anymore. therefore my shoes are always either too big or too small. what a disaster: growing old - with a belly to match. years later and i’m still moaning. what else is there to do? time, death and women aren’t our friends, they’re vicious monsters sent to confuse us. it doesn’t matter how fast or how slow you burn the candle, at the end of it all there’s only the box. in afrikaans they call it the doos: which rhymes with koos. koos kombuis which means kitchen. now it’s 1934. well what do you know, still no sign of the legend. onder in my wisky glas. that’s a great song. i spent six months rehearsing with my band freedom fighter, trying to cover that song. never succeeded. it seems simple but that’s deceptive: those spanish chords are actually from outer space. meanwhile here in westdene i’m floating on inner space. most of the people here are over forty. toppies like me come to taste the liquid nostalgia. i’m nearly finished my double. these days i drink slower. or maybe i write faster. the melancholy doesn’t actually stop, but it becomes more bearable. i stopped feeling sorry for myself a long time ago. since i figured out what it’s all about. it’s all about filling up the time until koos comes onstage, or the reaper. we all know the end of this story. it’s how we get there that’s different each time. it’s 1945. i’m in back to basix. that’s all.
october 2006
September 11th, 2008 at 3:12 pm
didn’t we hear y’all (ff) ‘cova’ that song-differently-brilliantly, at the bo-heme?