Lucid Waking

Archive for December 19th, 2008

Stardust by Dave Brubeck Quartet

        Everyone would say the Cambrino Lounge was the hottest nightclub in Chicago. Openly notorious for its high quality alcohol in the 1920’s, the lounge prided itself on its jazz, booze, and decorum. Its walls had seen some of the greatest musicians, actors, singers, and gangsters the town could offer. If anyone wanted to visit Chicago, the Cambrino Lounge was the place to go.
        “So why are you selling it?” Samantha asked brushing her hand across the marble tabletops of the bar.
        Her grandfather smiled. “I’m too old to keep this establishment and neither of my sons wanted to keep it up.”
        “I’m willing to keep it going,” she said.
        “No, I think it’s time to move on.”
        “But this place has so many stories, I’d hate to see it as a Panera or another beauty shop. It loses its romance and intrigue.”
        Her grandfather smiled. “You’re soul wants to be a writer. Don’t stick it in a business where it can’t speak.”
        She sighed. “Can’t you at least make it into a museum?”
        “No,” he said. “The lounge would lose something else if it was a museum. All the stories would be lost anyway after a while. Why keep the shop open if no one knows anything about it? Museums are just another business and I think its time this building is moved into the 21st century.”
        Samantha looked at the ceiling darkened from cigarette smoke and then at the peeling wallpaper on the walls. Pictures of artists, political activists, and just ordinary patrons kept the wallpaper up. Newspaper clippings from almost every aspect of history hung beside pictures. She smiled at the headlines: Capone Convicted of dodging taxes; may get 17 years, 100,000 Hail Hitler; U.S. Athletes Avoid Nazi Salute to Him, Amelia Earhart flies Atlantic, First Woman To Do It; Tells Her Own Story of Perilous 21-Hour Trip to Wales; Radio Quit and They Flew Blind Over Invisible Ocean. She hated to let it go.
        Her grandfather called her over from the door where he was already standing dressed for winter with the key in the door. She reluctantly walked past him and out onto the street, waiting for the lonely click of the lock before helping him to his car parked farther down the street.

(Listen to it)