3:30 AM Fri 3rd Mar 72
I’m in a bad mood and Bruce has a cold. Bubbles (our new hanger-on of indeterminate gender we met sat Bruce’s Cellar Door gig) brings over old folky Cory Dario – a John Denver-y singer who needs help copyrighting his music. (Says he plays “countrypolitan”.) Bubbles is a fount of contacts (Bringing in Emmy Lou Harris who is selling real estate in the area and just getting known.) They played Bruce’s Will You Be Ready to Go? and Appletree for hours and I fell in love with Bruce all over again. As soon as they left we made love 3 times. Bruce says my “problem” is I like keeping “secrets”. I must say I was surprised. I don’t think that is true. I just have a lot of lawyers and many of them not share-able. Yet. Thunder & lightning storm. The band has received a new mix of Newfoundlady from the studio that is way better than the other one – unfortunately they are sick of the song. I appreciate the problem – must be awful to do the same thing over and over. Ugh! I would hate it! Bruce had an emergency meeting with Buster and Dillon, thinking they have to kick Judd out. He apparently called my father and told him they weren’t ready to record! What a weirdo. Dad very cool about it saying obviously they lack leadership. I think Bad Heart will have to break up. 8 Mar Wed 72 Working on The Logical Place quiet as a mouse - nobody threw me out of the meeting with George the producer so I was allowed to stay and listen. He is very upbeat and confident about the band’s future but says they have to get together a “stage show.” Bruce hates the idea. A possible drummer arrives late tonight – staying here. I am getting my hair cut hoping it will become suddenly manageable. The Quay – Weymouth England – Thurs 29 June 1972 Nice new book. My favorite sign since I’ve been here : BUNKERING PUMP – SHUNT CAREFULLY. Bruce and I walked from the RR station with all our luggage looking for a bed & breakfast – were finally sent to this “poor widow” who kept saying, “I shall have to charge you for that” keys, bath, sheets all extra. We kept saying, “No, no, no” reassuring her. We are actually flush with cash from selling Bruce’s mandolin to Spencer Davis. Landlady confided in us the horror stories of a Poor Widow running a Guest House Alone – couldn’t get away fast enough. Guest book is a blank encyclopedia left by a door-to-door salesman. Roast lamb last night at the Miniature Restaurant – last ride on our Brit Rail was yesterday. Saw a pheasant in a field calmly watching the train go by. Reading Ngaio Marsh’s Death in a White Tie – not bad. Tarragona, Spain, Sun, 9 July 1972 No writing: seems I resort to my diary only when I have things to explain to myself. (Wailing and/or dithering.) That’s why losing last book (red-stained with rosewater cologne – in Oxford I think) was no great loss. Bruce never shows any interest in my diary although in Maryland he used to ask me to look up what we were doing a year ago. Seems like I can’t go anywhere around here without Bruce, which is a pain. The beaches were covered with people – everyone sunbathing – I had the sea to myself, which was glorious. Then when I wanted to sunbathe I had a man and four bys standing over me for an hour trying every language they could think of and flicking water on me. They would not go away. Last night I was the only person in the pool: literally a crowd stood around and watched. Makes you wish you were invisible.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Alysse Aallyn
Archives
September 2022
Categories |