I just helped my friend move an organ from his old spot to his new one.  He lived in Garfield Park, on Maple st, between Homan and St. Louis.  Lots of good times at that place, a new kind of deck stylee went down there.  You sometimes would hear the arabic call to prayer when you were going to get beer at the corner spot, the call coming from just behind the beer spot, a building owned by the same Arab cats.  Not going to say anything is even messed up about that, see where you look.  The block is nice, and i’m going to miss it.  The neighbor kids, Kalumda who was going to dinner with a sugar mama tonight, and well.. the vibe of African American life, or a segment of it.  I live on a very mixed block, and I like that much, could go either way.  So yeah, i’ll need to make that block a  part of the bike random rideness that can sometimes happen.  The front porch of that house, on the first weekend that my friend lived there, we were super party time, and the soundtrack was the juke music coming from about a half block away.  That was the only night I heard that music, that loud.  And well.. That was enough, could have had more, but cool with that one night.  No stress, no strain, What i’m really feeling right now is the struggle  on my body from that heavy ass organ.  Cheers to you Garfield Park, Conservatory and People.

July 26th, 2009 Subscribe to the RSS feed!