Paolo Conte - Una giornata al mare (Gli anni 70)
A day without a smartphone.
I had lost it in my dealer’s car, and he only found it yesterday under the seat of his automobile.
I didn’t know how to share my existential discomfort with the bovine masses.
Then I remembered I kept a Moleskine and a pencil in my bag; often I’ve drawn some of my best works there, since an idea, when it comes to you, comes in non-canonical places (in my case, pubs or public restrooms) and there’s no better device than paper & pencil.
I’m transcribing—without censoring myself—what I wrote a few hours ago.
“An evening without a phone.
Maybe a slight uneasiness from having no contact with the liquid—maybe amniotic—universe that puts us all in a sort of virtual nirvana.
But it’s not so bad to ignore the background noise sometimes.
My friend Heinz, an Austrian now deceased, once invited me onto his boat (he was a Skipper).
‘You see Marco,’ he said, ‘you teach me to play guitar: I’ll teach you to sail a boat.’
We toured the Mediterranean: two months off on our own, with our families having not the slightest idea where we were.
Now I’m here, at his Gasthaus Heinz (you’ll find it on Google) eating a
Wiener Schnitzel and drinking unfiltered beer with Schnapps Apricot, together with his children and his wife; one of them (the kids) is a great guitarist by the way (I taught him!).
In the background, ‘Kind of Blue’ by Miles.”
These are important things.
Ça va sans dire that neither did he learn to play the guitar, nor I to pilot a boat.
Ah, the song.
For me—that is, I—the best possible Conte. chitarra: Mediterraneo:
A day without a smartphone.
I had lost it in my dealer’s car, and he only found it yesterday under the seat of his automobile.
I didn’t know how to share my existential discomfort with the bovine masses.
Then I remembered I kept a Moleskine and a pencil in my bag; often I’ve drawn some of my best works there, since an idea, when it comes to you, comes in non-canonical places (in my case, pubs or public restrooms) and there’s no better device than paper & pencil.
I’m transcribing—without censoring myself—what I wrote a few hours ago.
“An evening without a phone.
Maybe a slight uneasiness from having no contact with the liquid—maybe amniotic—universe that puts us all in a sort of virtual nirvana.
But it’s not so bad to ignore the background noise sometimes.
My friend Heinz, an Austrian now deceased, once invited me onto his boat (he was a Skipper).
‘You see Marco,’ he said, ‘you teach me to play guitar: I’ll teach you to sail a boat.’
We toured the Mediterranean: two months off on our own, with our families having not the slightest idea where we were.
Now I’m here, at his Gasthaus Heinz (you’ll find it on Google) eating a
Wiener Schnitzel and drinking unfiltered beer with Schnapps Apricot, together with his children and his wife; one of them (the kids) is a great guitarist by the way (I taught him!).
In the background, ‘Kind of Blue’ by Miles.”
These are important things.
Ça va sans dire that neither did he learn to play the guitar, nor I to pilot a boat.
Ah, the song.
For me—that is, I—the best possible Conte. chitarra: Mediterraneo:
macmaranza
yesterday 01:49
DeRank ™: 24,37
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