say

At the Wave Hill gallery Sunday I explained Teena Marie to an artist from Portugal. Why? Be-cause, Teena Marie sang the Portuguese Love song ! I told her, “Teena Marie was a white American who sang like a black woman and she was a very popular R&B artist in the black community. She went to Portugal and fell in love with it, and with this guy and she wrote this song.” I sang with my eyes closed in passion and played air guitar to illustrate: Come on in Por-tu-guese. Say you love me baaaa-by. Come on in Por-tu-guese, say you love meeeeee… Saaay it to me, say it to me, say it to me, say you love me ba-by, Por-tu-guese love…

“Ohhh…,” she says when I finish. “Yeah she really loved him, and on the beach and everything,” I told her. We talked about other things too, but what started me on Teena Marie was our discussion of the Portuguese landscape. I thought of Teena Marie on the beach with this sexy Portuguese guy playing his guitar. By the way, I don’t think Teena Marie plays the guitar in this song. I just played air guitar in my version, plus everybody knows Teena Marie did play the guitar anyway.

The artist was really friendly. Her artwork by the way was kick-ass, photographs of trees completed by her sketch imaging. She was intrigued by Teena Marie, so she got a pen and a piece of paper. In her heavy Portuguese accent she asked, “How do you spell the first name?” “Oh yes, it’s T-e-e-n-a,” I said. I’m thinking, Holy shit! She’s really gonna listen to it?! I’m sure my fine air guitar and song rendition had everything to do with it. I wonder what a woman from Portugal would think of a song about Portuguese love written by a white woman who sings like a black person…

Well what the hell is that scratching, scraping and skittering I’m hearing in my walls? Listen, I know I’m a Halloween enthusiast (I only just took my Halloween decorations down a couple weeks ago, and I’m already planning this year’s Halloween festivities.) and I’m attracted to dark things — let’s just say, euphemistically, that I’m a fan of “life’s mysterious aspects.” But I don’t think this warrants a visit from you-know-who. I went to church two years ago, and I’ve been known to say a few prayers. I told management for my building that I think it’s squirrels in the walls and on the roof – I live in the penthouse, that is, the top floor. I stopped myself from making a joke about you-know-who being in the walls, because I didn’t want to flesh that idea out too much if you know what I mean. But hell if I didn’t see hide nor hair of any small furry animal on the roof when I went up there. SO, WHERE THE FUCK’S THAT NOISE COMING FROM!!!! Just so you know, other neighbors have heard it too – so it wouldn’t be just me who’s targeted to be his personal minion. Hey look, like in the movie when they’re throwing holy water on Linda Blair, the power of Christ compels me, and my daddy bought me a bonafide crucifix from Italy, and I WILL use it if I have to!