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SHOWTIME AND OVERTURE

Updated: Jun 9

SHOWTIME


“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. 

They each have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.”​ -- William Shakespeare

“The good ones borrow, the great ones steal.”

-- Pablo Picasso

​​

"Memory lane is a dimly-lit street.”

-- a comment I overheard during an after-party

@ The House of Blues Hotel in Chicago circa 1999


…this is the way that I remember it…



OVERTURE

​​

“If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man,

then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.”

-- Ernest Hemingway

​In the Beginning...it all started on a wee, speck-island town across the bay from San Francisco, called Alameda...'twas 1968 and, as far Cookin' Mama goes, there was only jus' the three of us: Vince, Larry, and li'l ol' me, your humble narrator...Call me Twick...

…but, damn…I done be already gettin’ ahead o’ myself…so, lemme jus’ back up the truck for a sec n’ set the scene for ya, k?

’68 was one hell of a year for ever’one in these here, our great United States.  Lost Dr. King to a punk assassin’s bullet in Memphis early on. Bobby K later in that same year n’ in the same chickenshit fashion down in “Smell A." While up in Sweet Home Chicago, the month of August had us all glued to our TVs witnessing the ultra-bloody street riots brought on by the still smoldering residual anger over the the assassination of Dr. King. As well as by the currently-happening brutal snuffing out of anti-war protests by Second City's Finest. Along with 5,600 Illinois National Guard troops joining in on the fun just for good measure. All of which rather vividly and violently ushered in that year's Democratic National Convention soiree held in Chi-Town itself.


And then, finally - as if that wasn't enough grief for one year - over in good ol’ Vee-et-nahm there was the TET Offensive: the Viet Cong blitzkrieg that in January of 1968 started the year off with a bang, and represented the first pitch and opening salvo in the inevitable coup de grace that eventually tolled the final bell on Uncle Sam’s ill-advised foray into Southeast Asian politics.


Civil rights?  Sheeit!  That “dream” was still jus’ a gleam in some poor ol’ daddy’s eyes…t'weren’t nuttin’ much born yet to holler ‘bout nor celebrate on that front, don’tcha know, dear reader.

‘Course, out here in Frisco, we were already one year and two knuckles deep into that

all-night party and moveable feast known as:


“The Summer of Love”…


©2024 Cookin' Mama



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