Wednesday, February 27, 2013

I know a Sugarman.

Photograph courtesy of a very tall man.
A performance by Rodriguez last week thoroughly warmed the cockles of my heart. By song number two, tears were rolling down my cheeks. Around us people young and old sang along. A man behind me yelled: you can do anything - we love you man!
Because, you see, it wasn't just an old man
singing his songs.

It was my eight-year-old self playing with the family hound, a grumpy daschund, outside my brother's bedroom window, listening to Cold Fact.
It was my eighteen-year-old self, leaving home, taping that vinyl record to take with me to university. On the other side of Moondance.
It was my nineteen-year-old self posing my boyfriend cross-legged in a hat and a purple vest, for Photography 101.
(He told me I looked fat
in my favourite cheesecloth dress)
It was countless parties and barbeques and trips
in a car.
It was hours of sulking on my bed.

It was wondering, wondering... is there someone who will understand me, is he listening too?

In this job I do, I have built up a network of people and many have become loved ones. I visited a couple yesterday, both in their late seventies. They own a small antique shop and often help me to find the things that I need. Now and then I am invited to their beautiful home - a large stone house next to the sea, with very high ceilings. It is filled with two lifetimes of collecting.

They have recently lost a good friend - a young artist. His self-portrait is on display in the living room and music spills through the house. Was it a huntsman or a player that made you pay the cost...
Rodriguez again. She has her own memories - we were driving to the coast and playing this song, we were laughing so much. And then she winks at me and says: oh that man - he has such a sexy voice - ahhhhh!


Tanja said...

oh tart, yes. that's how it goes, only you make it real and velvety and dreamy melancholy real. enjoying reading, so I am.

the sourcerer said...

thank you ms T dear. xx

Petro said...


Lovely story.

Firstly, Cheesecloth dress. My oh my. That brings back memories. Four years at varsity with all sorts of cheesecloth dresses. Try and explain that whole idea to my student daughter.
But.... she found Mr Sugerman and she loves his music.
Life goes in circles.
I love your stories.

Marie said...

Appropos of the movie - Searching for Sugarman - there was an in-depth story on the local public radio here, WNYC, or maybe it was NPR (broadcast nationallY) about the phenomenon of his popularity in South Africa, and just about nowhere else...


the sourcerer said...

Petro - I wish I still had that dress. It was navy blue (slimming!) with some embroidery.
Marie - you know the documentary won an Oscar! really a worthwhile watch...