Laudator Tempori Acti* iliti Azzaro, Eau de Toilette
Jutros sam bio u trgovini i kupio par sitnica... Čekajući na blagajni, pogled mi je pao na parfumeriju u blizini, i (onako izdaleka) zapeo na parfemu koji sam mnogo puta imao, te se odlučih napraviti jedan 'Blitz' po trgovini... [Kratka digresija: postoji teorija po kojoj se ljudi dijele po načinu kupnje, na one koji ne znaju što hoće (kupovine u njihovu društvu se grozim, a ukoliko sam u situaciji da s njima moram nužno u kupovinu, to mogu odraditi samo pod uvjetom da se raziđemo svatko po svom poslu, te da se precizno odredi gdje i kada ćemo se naći, po mogućnosti u nekoj knjižari, gdje mogu u miru Božjemu listati knjige do besvjesti :)) )... Elem, dakle, po toj istoj teoriji, ja spadam u grupu otimača: već u prvom pogledu obuhvatim cijelu trgovinu i točno znam da li me što interesira, a kupujem u vrlo kratkom vremenu, po sistemu: to, to... i to...] Dakle, 'Blitz'... I tako vidjeh Azzaro... parfem koji sam prvi puta vidio, pomirisao, spoznao... prije cca. 23 godine, točnije - ljeta gospodnjega 1986. I inače volim parfeme, ali Azzaro za mene predstavlja daleko više od same toaletne potrepštine - on je, na neki način, kvintesencija tog Vremena... I baš sve se odmah vratilo, kao Proustove male madeleine (pa da, eto... ponovno ih spominjem, baš kao nekakav Leicht-Motiv [no dobro, da... i njega ponovno spominjem... :)) ]); i vrijeme, i mirisi, i, što je najbitnije, onaj osjećaj poznatog, evociranog, koji sam po sebi, dakle i po samom svom bitku - nudi smirenje... Da se odmah dobro razumijemo: nisam jugonostalgičar, niti sam to ikada bio... možda sam nostalgičan za jednim vremenom koje je nepovratno iščezlo, za vremenom u kojem je 'Svijet još bio mlad', kada se sve činilo dobrim i pozitivnim, a kada sam ja sam bio neizlječivi idealist... Last but not least: kada sam bio mlad i pun planova koje treba realizirati... Iako mi memorija, u posljednje vrijeme, zadaje podosta problema, još se uvijek savršeno dobro sjećam tog vremena... Interesantno, pojava je slična amneziji, s tom razlikom da se znatno teže sjećam neposredno prošlih događaja, dok se dobro sjećam prošlosti, a pošto auditivno pamtim, iz toga proizlazi da se jako dobro sjećam starije glazbe, tekstova pjesama, pa čak i cijelih albuma... I s time u svezi: nikada neću zaboraviti album Paula Simona 'Graceland'... još se sjećam tog proljetnog dana, sličnog današnjemu, kada je mom dobrom prijatelju ujak iz Londona donio tu ploču, te smo je mi pobožno stavili na Pioneer i jedva dočekali da otpucketa početak :)) Možda je album malo težak na 'prvo slušanje', i premda Simona i Garfunkela poštujem, (mada ih smatram pomalo, ameri bi rekli - 'corny', a ja bih rekao - 'sladunjavi') taj me je album oduševio zbog njegovih referenci na melodijske i ritmičke strukture Južnoafričke Republike (zbog suradnje s glazbenicima iz JAR-a je Paul Simon imao poprilično problema, zato što je kršio embargo koji je UN uveo radi apartheida, na bilo koji oblik suradnje s Južnoafričkom Republikom), ali i zbog svojevrsnog Hommagea kralju Elvisu... Stoga: Paul Simon - You can call me Al A man walks down the street He says why am I soft in the middle now Why am I soft in the middle The rest of my life is so hard I need a photo-opportunity I want a shot at redemption Don't want to end up a cartoon In a cartoon graveyard Bonedigger Bonedigger Dogs in the moonlight Far away my well-lit door Mr. Beerbelly Beerbelly Get these mutts away from me You know I don't find this stuff amusing anymore If you'll be my bodyguard I can be your long lost pal I can call you Betty And Betty when you call me You can call me Al A man walks down the street He says why am I short of attention Got a short little span of attention And wo my nights are so long Where's my wife and family What if I die here Who'll be my role-model Now that my role-model is Gone Gone He ducked back down the alley With some roly-poly little bat-faced girl All along along There were incidents and accidents There were hints and allegations If you'll be my bodyguard I can be your long lost pal I can call you Betty And Betty when you call me You can call me Al Call me Al A man walks down the street It's a street in a strange world Maybe it's the Third World Maybe it's his first time around He doesn't speak the language He holds no currency He is a foreign man He is surrounded by the sound The sound Cattle in the marketplace Scatterlings and orphanages He looks around, around He sees angels in the architecture Spinning in infinity He says Amen! and Hallelujah! If you'll be my bodyguard I can be your long lost pal I can call you Betty And Betty when you call me You can call me Al Call me Al Ovu sam vam priču ispričao u jednome dahu, baš onako kako i volim pisati, bez premnogog premišljanja oko uporabe ove ili one riječi... I sada, kada je priča ispričana - ja sam zadovoljan i spokojan... i vraćam se u svoj mjehurić, iz kojega sam, tako neoprezno, iskočio... Paul Simon - The boy in the bubble It was a slow day, And the sun was beating On the soldiers by the side of the road, There was a bright light, A shattering of shop windows The bomb in the baby carriage Was wired to the radio, These are the days of miracle and wonder, This is the long distance call, The way the camera follows us in slo-mo The way we look to us all, The way we look to a distant constellation That's dying in a corner of the sky, These are the days of miracle and wonder And don't cry baby don't cry Don't cry, It was a dry wind, And it swept across the desert And it curled into the circle of birth, And the dead sand, Falling on the children The mothers and the fathers And the automatic earth, These are the days of miracle and wonder, This is the long distance call, The way the camera follows us in slo-mo The way we look to us all o-yeah, The way we look to a distant constellation That's dying in a corner of the sky, These are the days of miracle and wonder And don't cry baby don't cry Don't cry It's a turn-around jump shot It's everybody jump start It's, every generation throws a hero up the pop charts, Medicine is magical and magical is art think of The Boy in the Bubble And the baby with the baboon heart And I believe These are the days of lasers in the jungle, Lasers in the jungle somewhere, Staccato signals of constant information, A loose affiliation of millionaires And billionaires and baby, These are the days of miracle and wonder, This is the long distance call, The way the camera follows us in slo-mo The way we look to us all o-yeah, The way we look to a distant constellation That's dying in a corner of the sky, These are the days of miracle and wonder And don't cry baby don't cry Don't cry don't cry Ciao!!! :)) ------------- * Laudator tempori acti - hvalitelj minulih vremena (lat.) |