• Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay

That was my last day in the metropolis of blues. We met first in a restaurant on the Clark Street. She came with her friend. Afterwards she invited me surprisingly into her house. It was like the dream I dreamed already long ago. We were sitting next to each other on her colorful couch in a red living room. I could hear the clang of her jewelry when she was lying back. She was in high spirits and played some not yet released songs. Suddenly she picked an other guitar, started to play on, and said to me, „take one and feel free to play with me“. There were at least twenty different guitars everywhere in the room. I took a red one, hold it carefully in my hands, but I had too much respect to play, it was too long that I played guitar at all. I just wanted to listen to her play. I know, she did know, that she couldn’t have given anything to me which would have meant more for me.. That was the non plus ultra of all my dreams, she shared her gift with me. I was almost exploding out of luck and joy. I could hardly believe it, but she was singing and playing for me. O n l y for me. For hours. What a voice! By enjoying this private gig I was literally getting stoned by the music. We spent eight hours with each other celebrating all kinds of art. Than she gave me a drive back to my hotel. She honked for farewell and beckoned to me through the open roof of her deep blue Chevrolet. End of the film spool. But this dream wasn’t dreamed out yet. I did know, I’ll be back.

OTIS REDDING • SITTING ON THE DOCK OF THE BAY

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