Citizen Reporter

I’m so busy with editing, correcting, writing, and recording i can barely write a proper chaotic post like my usual self. My journey to Brussels was brief and extremely interesting. More information on that when you get older and your mom and I decide you’ve earned the responsibility. Now go to your room blogchildren.

What I can do is point you to a vlog starring me and my vlog/podcast pals in Utrecht last night. Also note that Ive opened my own vlog which will have random videos from my life. And if you listen to the excellent podcast in Japanese by Mr. Sugimoto, you will hear amazing sounds including me saying “modulation” in Portuguese, mixed in with many other voices in other languages. Listen to it and don’t worry if you dont understand Japanese, that isn’t the point. It’s pure musical fun.

I was going on and on about how great he is to my friends seated to my left, as I sat down in the shiney new fake leather seats at the new Bimhuis last night. I barely even took notice, in between my longwinded analysis of all-time greatest Brasilian musicians, that HE and his band had quietly taken their places.

“Which one is he?” asked my Colombian buddy, scanning the crew of four now in position to start the magic. I glanced quickly at all of them… recognized Paulo Braga.. drummer…the playful genius. And there he was, long hair and already strumming in that style that so reminds me of Bill Frisell if he suddenly turned Brazilian. I also remembered that trumpet playing percussionist from when I first saw them way back in 1998 in NYC. Can’t remember what club we were at. I just remember I liked some girl who I had gone there with, and when I arrived, excited to see her, there she was, alongside the man who she would then introduce as her fiancee. Ouch.

But fortunately for me back then, as now, there’s Vinicius. Vinicius can fix anything for me. I’m working oh so many jobs lately to push my career forward and give me some extra loot to fly to Cuba in a few months, and the music of Vinicius Cantuaria takes me away from all the websites and texts and emails that need answering. From the moment he starts off with Procissão.. Im groovin and wishing we weren’t so dutch and didn’t have to remain seated to watch music that makes one’s body want to move. Anyway you all get the point. It was heaven.

And as always, I waited around with some new friends, constantly scanning the room for him. And sure enough, in a big puffy jacket and a skull cap covering his fro, I spotted Vinicius almost alone at the bar. I came over and told him “Cada vez que vóçe toca em Amsterdão, eu venho, e cada vez é o melhor prazer do ano. Muito obrigado pelo seu trabalho.” He looked at me with gratitude and slight suprise – you’ve come to see me every year? oh man.. .thank you so much for that support. thats wonderful.

That’s Vinicius. He’s the bestest.

It has been quite some time since I’ve talked about my super-human toddler-extraordinaire nephew the A-REN. Perhaps because it has been almost a year since I last sat next to his high-chair and he threw all his toys on the floor and gave me that “pick em up uncle slaveboy from Holland.” – A look that I always obey of course, cause you can’t deny the A-Ren.

But as you can imagine, throughout the year my dear brother and my mama keep me going with plenty of photos and the occasional video of A-Ren dancing around to Portuguese music. And perhaps that and my upcoming trip to New Jersey (1 month away) that have led to some very interesting dreams lately.

Now in real life, the A-Ren is still not using the languages of the uncivilized world many of us use. Instead he has created his own language which I believe to be too highly advanced for humans, especially boring adults. Though he does humor the family by saying a few key English and Portuguese words. Yet, lately I have this re-occuring dream where my toddler nephew walks into my apartment and immediately shouts my name and runs up to me and hugs my one leg and starts talking up a storm asking me why I haven’t been to visit him lately. Im pretty sure he speaks to me in English, but the part that always blows me away is when he knows all about me and what Im doing in Amsterdam and demands that we go out in the garden and play. — A vision of the future perhaps? An acid flashback perhaps? A lack of sleep? — likely.

Oh and since one day my nephew will be reading all the old posts his uncle wrote about him — hey buddy, here’s lookin’ at you.