Day Seven, Tuesday 11th January 2011 We got up (too) late but a gorgeous day so Mala and I took bicycles out and about...FUN!!  To the Juderia and the Mezquita;  the Puente Romano.  Fragrances of Cordoba are so intoxicating.  The Mezquita never fails to inspire awe and feelings of spirituality.  Driving home, at 7:30PM,  alas, Mala and I got separated and what followed was a 5 hour search for her all over greater Cordoba.  I realized she had no money, no identification, no address, no idea of the city.   Dani joined me (in his car), I parked the bike and we went (frantically) from place to place, involving the police, the taxistas and everyone else we could induce to help us.  After near nervous breakdowns, recovery, and breaking down again, we got a phone call at 12:30AM saying they'd found her---5 minutes from Dani's place.  Incredible relief, exuberance, giddiness, all of it. Day Eight Wednesday We hung around Dani's house till 4:30PM when I took his "Ka" (tiny Ford automobile) and began driving the A-4 to Jerez de la Frontera.  75 degree day and sunny, just a beautiful and relaxed drive.  A few hairy moments as we navigated the crowded streets ofJerez.  I finally parked near the bus station and we hiked the kilometer or so to Plaza Plateros and David's Jerez home.  We intend to stay here a few days.  Chilly inside,  bohemian, incredibly charming in a mix of Jerezano and David style.  We had tapas till late and slept soundly. Day Nine Thursday 13th Today we did Jerez:  walked and ate and drank and walked and shopped and went on-line and walked and had a succulent crepe late night:  estilo Noriega with smoked salmon, arugula, cheese and yoghurt sauce.  Played one of David's guitars for an hour or more.  Nerdie us:  we're doing Spanish crosswords (crucigramas) and actually solving a few. Day Ten Friday We hit the jackpot!  First, I find David's 1975 Arcangel Fernandez and am practicing (I am somewhere in 7th heaven) for hours.  Then we leave, find Barrio San Miguel (Mala bought a lovely flamenco dress)---this place is so unbelievably, un-real-ly picturesque---set out for Arcos de la Frontera.  It is a dream spot in the Sierras only 30 km from Jerez.  We'd read of a penya flamenca there but found it to be cancelled:  the police(!) came to the rescue and lead us to another penya where the people were so gracioso.  Tapas, manzanilla, patatas fritas:  all for no charge.  Then the singer began:  Jose Mendez.  Great, simply, purely, awesomely great.  Same physical structure as el Pele and a quite similar voice but in the style of his family:  la Paquera.  Just incredible good luck to stumble onto this.  We drove home to Jerez very late, tired but totally euphoric.

I realize I should be blogging this stuff as it happens---I wrote everything down but didn't have good access to a computer until now so forgive the time lag, please.... Day Four Saturday 8th January Rain. Rain. Rain.  We went out for coffee/chocolate/churros and shopping and dinner but miserable weather.   The evening was a delight, however.  We went to Anya's home for an impromptu penya with David Serva playing guitar and 4 singers including Rachel: great ambiente!  I got to play a little guitar, myself.  Out for still more drinks following that, ending up at Bar Recoba---a favorite late-night spot of mine for many years, an Argentine Pizzeria owned by un personaje se llama Franco.  Home very late. Day Five Sunday We got up in time to meet my friend Max (English-born guitarist, now Spanish citizen called Manolo Segura) and ride the bus out to Moratalaz for a noon penya flamenca.  Rachel sang--a great experience for her and she did quite well.  She (and I)  were particularly touched by the deep aficion' shown by the mostly aged crowd.  Some beautiful voices, too.  We went to David's for dinner, hanging out with Clara and him til late, meeting Anya even later at ArteBar (there was an Argentine penya there that was, well, scintillating). Day 6 Monday the 10th We got up early (sorta...) in time to check out of the hotel and get to the bus station.  Had breakfast there and caught the bus to Cordoba.  I love riding the bus through la Mancha and Valdepenyas,  across the Sierras and into Andalusia.  I never tire of it, forget the Ave!  A beautiful ride and temps in the 60s!  My dear friend (whom I hadn't seen for 5 years) Dani picked us up and we're staying with him, his wife Cheli, and their 15 month-old guapo, Felix.  We went out for delectable tapas Cordobesas.

January 4th, 2011--Newark NJ The adventure begins anew.  Its been 18 months since my last visit and I am excited, I admit.  Even after 30 years of almost yearly trips to Spain, particularly Madrid,  the thrill is NOT gone.  Rachel is with me.  It is her first time to Spain, her first time out of the US.  I'm sitting, awaiting boarding, having a coffee and thinking of the menu del dia.  I know where I want to go.... Day One Wednesday 5th We arrive, jet-lagged, and check in to the Tirso Plaza Hotel.  It is warm and comfortable.  A few tapas, wine, hour-and-a-half nap and we're ready for the big event:  the parade (la Cabalgata) that takes place the eve of Reyes.  It is silly but really fun.  Must be a million people in the street near Cibeles.  It is chilly (maybe 46 degrees) but we are warm and dry in our winter coats, hats, gloves, scarves (its a Minnesota thing...).  Afterward, we go to ArteBar and catch a flamenco show---young folks with great aficion', good crowd lovin' it, but, overall---really green.  Great way to re-enter Spain and to introduce Rachel. Day Two Thursday 6th Slept late---day of fiestas with lots of shops closed but we found nice food.  We walked a lot:  to Malasanya and Sol, Gran Via, Tribunal (and Cafe Comercial, of course).  Again, ArteBar with Fernando de la Rua playing a mix of Brazilian and Flamenco, a decent singer and OK bassist.  Nice chat with him and another late night. Day Three Friday January 7th More walking, walking, to Chueca and beyond.  Madrid is a great city for walking.  Tapas and wine in many places then we finally hooked up with David Serva at ArteBar, where he did his cuadro show with his wife Clara and Anya and Keiooko.  We went out after that to a late night penya (sic) and yet another place until 6 AM.  Really fun.

Yes, really.  Here I am, day 7 in that impossibly gorgeous, quaint little slip of unreality which is Palm Beach, Florida.  I'm staying at the Colony Hotel.  It is elegant, to say the least. I've been playing in the trio that backs up Tony Sandler.  He's one of the last ones from that great era of nightclub entertainers from Sinatra onward.  It is an experience I cherish and I love the music we're playing, too!  The gig finished a couple of days ago but it has been impossible to get a flight out to Minneapolis.  The Fox TV images of the Metrodome collapsing only tell part of the story.  The temperatures have plunged to below zero and there is some 2 feet of fresh snow, with drifts that are formidable.  For the most part, the temps here have been in the 70s, with locals complaining of the cold.  I just took a walk around town, sat in a surrealistic little garden, walked along the Atlantic.  I stumbled through a heady, intoxication of ylang-ylang that nearly bowled me over (my favorite scent...).  I guess it was a bush alongside the sidewalk--I'm not sure but I won't soon forget the effect. I have a flight to Minneapolis booked for tomorrow morning so I expect I'll be shovelling snow within 24 hours.....more unreality. Christmas concert with Tony Sandler next Sunday (Dec 19th) at the Women's Club in Minneapolis.  New Year's Eve at the First Course Bistro and late-night at Solera, playing with fine musicians and featuring Rachel "la Mala" on Gypsy songs and flamenco.  Then its off to Madrid in early January for 2 1/2 weeks. Happy Holidays everyone!

Long time no post....this fall has been a whirlwind, mostly a very good whirlwind. The September tango-tour of the East coast (with Mandragora Tango) was excellent, really fun, lots of memorable times, new friends and old, great milongas.  Read about it at mandragoratango.com. Then I went back out, this time with Ensemble Espanyol (still no enye on my keyboard), and we were mostly in New York: the city, the Bronx, Long Island, and White Plains.  I had almost too much fun rooming with and hanging with the other guitarist (and singer, more importantly), Paco Fonta.  He's a very fine artist but we laughed ourselves sick with ridiculous, juvenile antics. The Ensemble is based in Chicago, and, while I was there rehearsing, the much-loved and legendary dancer/teacher Edo Sie passed away, I believe it was on October 13th.  I was so fortunate to attend his funeral, at St Ida's Church, on the 16th.  It was a lovely service. I particularly remember 4 things about Edo:  his remarkable penmanship, so tiny, so elegant, so beautiful---calligraphy, really.  Secondly, I recall passing by a dance studio where he was to be teaching a Jota class.  For some reason, no students attended that day.  Yet there was Edo, dancing full out, flying around the room, pouring sweat---and all alone.  I played guitar for many of his dance classes; he'd stand in front of me, shouting jaleo, encouraging me to play all out, regardless of how many times we had to repeat a paso.  Lastly, there was his shout of "lenteja!"  Dancers remember his exhortations toward erect, pulled up posture---as if clutching a tiny lentil with one's butt cheeks....There will never be another Edo. This weekend we're off to Detroit.  Saturday, November 6th, Rachel "la Mala" and I are doing a cante/guitar workshop.  On Sunday, the 7th, we're joined by 2 flamenco dancers (Andrea Plevan, from Minneapolis and Tessa Goldberg from Detroit) as we put up our original presentation:  Viva Sefarad:  Flamenco and the Jews of Spain.  This will be at the Congregation Beth Ahm in West Bloomfield.  It starts at 2:30 PM and is free and open to the public!  Yea! A few passing comments:  Boo, Tea Party!   Shame on you and your narrow, racist agenda.  Yea, Giants!  The Year of the Pitcher was exciting, indeed!  Boo, Michelle Bachman!  Yea, Keith Ellison!  Obama is my man through it all and Hillary's the gal! (I AM a big fan of Condie Rice, too.)  I love Randy Moss and can not fault him for speaking the truth.  Beyond all that, I love flamenco and I love the guitar! And Tang0, too....

Summer's end.  I've written too much of death these past months.  We must keep moving.  Keep living our dream---attempting to manage the stress, clearly---but mindful of the almost unbelievable great fortune of being able to live as artists in an ever more material and mundane world. It has been a magnificent summer: hot, lazy days and warm, brilliant nights.  Plenty of gigs but nothing too stressful.  Now it's time to get back out on the road.  I'm excited to go back out with Mandragora Tango later this month.  We'll be on the East coast of the US---in Manhattan, New Jersey, DC, Baltimore, Lehigh Valley, upstate NY---playing milongas for tango dancers and aficionados alike, living in a tango-bubble and loving it.  The details of the tour are posted at mandragoratango.com.  I hope to meet readers of this blog, hope to make new friends and reunite with old friends. Ensemble Espanyol (sic), out of Chicago, has asked me to tour with them in October and I am really psyched about that.  We'll be on the East coast, also---can't get enough of a good thing.  This will be flamenco, flamenco, flamenco 24/7:  they are a great bunch of people and very fine artists. I've loaded a couple of recent recordings I've done with producer Stefon Taylor and singer/percussionist Rachel "la Mala."  If you go to my "recordings" page and scroll down to the bottom you'll find Farruca Trance and Alegria Mozarabe.  I hope you enjoy this, quite different, side of what I do and I welcome your comments. Please!  No more spam-comments, viagra-cialis adds and otherwise useless stuff that has nothing to do with what I'm trying to do.  I can not possibly moderate all these comments and I apologize to those of you that have had to wade through them.  I'm trying to activate the Akismet plug-in with hopes of weeding out this garbage.  Ever the optimist, I find it discouraging to be some 600 comments behind in moderating even as I search for meaningful content. One last thing:  let us NOT burn the Koran even as we remember September 11th....

At one AM, on June 21st, 2010 the uniquely colorful, one-of-a-kind flamenco guitarist Robert Fletcher died.  He died of pneumonia as a result of being hospitalized for lung cancer.  He died in Madrid, Spain, where he had lived since the1960s. He was my friend for 30 years.  He taught me how to play tientos one Saturday back in 1982.  He came by my rented piso in Madrid around 10 AM---we went out and bought 5 bottles of Valdepenyas (sic) wine---and left around midnight.  He taught me a couple of rhythm licks plus a couple of variations and had me play them over and over for hours and hours while he improvised over them.  By midnight we were both drunk and the rhythm of tientos was forever stuck in my head. He took me to Antonio Sanchez on Meson de Paredes---way back in the day---and I played "Six Days on the Road" on flamenco guitar, singing in English, while he translated for a room of eager on-lookers.  Every time we hit the hook:  "six days on the road and I'm a gonna make it home tonight" the room exploded in joyous jaleo.  It was, well, memorable. My friend Tim Smith knew Robert very well, studied with him.  Fletcher was Best Man at Tim's wedding.  Tim wrote these heartfelt words: Robert Fletcher, No one will ever replace your smile, your humor, or your unique friendship.  No one will ever replace the joy you brought when you entered a room.  No one will ever replace you! No one. Standing in that familiar flamenco posture, your arms reached the sky with majestic brilliance.  You never received the glory you deserved as the great Gypsy of Jaleo. You were king! The cante, toque, and baile have no compas' without the beating heart of passion and your passion was infinite.  You lived so richly, sharing your wealth with those around you.   What a great loss that the Pharaoh must carry his riches with him!  What great sorrow has been left behind! Every waking hour, you donned the cloak of truth.  Always speaking without pretense, it was so fun to ponder the wonders of the universe with you!  Now, on this waking hour, I can only hear your voice in the wind.  I can only feel the emptiness of where you were and where you should be.  At closing time we would walk to another bar and find another drink and another laugh, but now that's not possible. Bugger that! My dear friend, you are loved. I miss you.

I am going to reproduce a little-known writing of Krishnaji.  It is written about Sai Baba of Shirdi, not to be confused with the present day Satya Sai Baba, who, it seems, was not one of Krishnaji's favorites.  I had the great fortune of visiting Shirdi a couple of times and I found it nothing short of a magical place, even 50 years after Sai Baba's passing. SAI BABA For God Sai Baba was His Beloved.   He in his infinite love showered every Grace on Baba. For Sai Baba the True Fakir, God was his only Beloved.  Like all True Lovers of God he shared all the treasures received by him from God with the innumerable people who flocked to him to be blessed.  True love of a mortal for God makes him immortal.  Such a one annihilates himself and gets merged in God.  Sai Baba is one such.  I say "IS" deliberately as Sai Baba always IS.  To love him is to love God. There are millions who offer their worshipful homage to the Great Master.  One can, like Meera glorify him with celestial music that wells up in the heart of a Lover.  If one had the enlightenment of Kabir then one could reveal to the world the hidden glory of his mystic life.  If you have the courage and fearless love of Guru Gobind Singh--only then you can give your head as an offering.  If you are fortunate to be blessed with the love that Saint Francis had for God and man--then your offering is a life of service to one and all. By the Grace of Baba it is possible to be intoxicated with Divine Love like Rabia, and then there is nothing left to offer by way of worship. For one like me the only offering I can make is to be lost in Silence. Far more sacred than all these is His Grace.  This Grace is precious both to the sinner and the saint.  Everything else may fail to save the world at this crucial period in human history.  His Grace has the power to bring humanity together in Love.  The day is not far off for the triumph of Love and Truth. Everything in nature proclaims God's Infinite Love for His beings.  God has given man the capacity to love and live as one family.  It is tragic that even the so called great personalities of this age do not dedicate their lives to the removal of the barriers that divide humanity.  Most of the national and religious leaders of today are blind with power.  Religion can not afford to be exclusive.  Therefore True religion can be neither orthodox nor heterodox.  The happiness of the one depends on the happiness of the many and vice versa.  One in Love, one in Truth, one in God is man. The enlightened one does not belong to any closed group or nation.  He is capable of bringing humanity together, dissolving all differences, in His Infinite Love for one and all.  Such a one need not give sermons or expound any philosophy, old or new.  When words fail, then in Silence and all alone he expresses Love and Truth.  In Silence, he receives the love of his lovers and in Silence he loves even those who deny him. He who knows does not speak                                                                                                  He who speaks does not know                                                                                                  He who is truthful is not showy                                                                                                He who is showy is not truthful                                                                                                He who is virtuous does not dispute                                                                                        He who disputes is not virtuous                                                                                                He who is learned is not wise                                                                                                    He who is wise is not learned Therefore the Sage does not display his own merits. BABA IN SILENCE (This is the Baba Krishnaji I want to remember....)

I have received a good deal of very interesting feedback regarding my first post on Baba's passing.  Thank you everyone.  Please read the comments that follow the post and, particularly, read the biography of Meher Baba, as mentioned.  It makes for fascinating reading. I heard a great many stories from Baba about his days with Meher Baba.  So I was not in the least bit surprised by what I read.  He had explanations pertaining to all the specific instances cited.  I was hoping to have some light shed on the question of just who was this man and how does everything fit together?  Unfortunately, at this point,  I am no closer to understanding. I do have some writings of the late Mouni Baba that are, most likely, not well known.  I will post them before long, I promise.  I met him in 1969 and I was present as much of the excavation was being done on the cave in Malabar.  A close friend suggested Baba was to Meher Baba what Judas Iscariot was to Jesus Christ:  the Beloved who was indicated by fate to betray his Master so as to fulfill the prophesies.  A provocative point of view, but not one to be dismissed lightly.  Certainly, Mouni Baba brought out some of the worst (!) in Meher Baba's circle....

On Saturday night, March 27th, 2010 the important Indian mystic also known as Mauni Baba passed away due to cardiac arrest at University Hospital in Minneapolis, MN.  He had turned 80 one month previously.  He is said to have been the disciple of Meher Baba and the 4th in the line of Sai Baba of Shirdi. I was very close to this man for many years.  In fact, I was the person responsible for bringing him to the United States.  I broke from him in late 1980 and have only seen him a few times since. I have a great deal of reflection and sorting-out to do before I can discuss all that this involvement meant to me.  I invite readers who knew him or knew of him to contribute their comments. Thank you.