Saturday was damp and chilly, a good day for the Blues. My son hosts the Saturday afternoon Blues jam at a nice little place called The Cottage Bistro. So two of my girlfriends and I headed there for the afternoon. As usual, the band was really cookin'. Every time I hear my son play and sing it seems he sounds better and yesterday was no exception. He's an excellent musician, been playing the guitar for years, ever since he first saw the Beatles on the Ed. Sullivan show when he was a mere 10 yrs old. And he has a equally talented back-up group too. The Westcoast Blues Review. You can catch some tracks of their music on the band's website: http://members.shaw.ca/westcoastblues Check it out, and browse through the archives too. You might even see my picture up there!
After the jam and a few jugs of beer, C. and I headed to the LQ. I hadn't intended to go but C. rarely comes out for the night and wanted to go there. She and I are long-time buddies and former work colleagues. We used to boogie the night away at the discos in the old days. Now she's the devoted mother of three fine kids and doesn't so often get into town.
So there we were, parked at the bar in the LQ with another jug of beer between us. It should have been an all-round excellent night, but it was a night for the Blues, after all. Really!
No sooner did the band arrive than I was assailed with a lecture from one of them who is a so-called 'friend' of mine, all to do with my writing, reading, the subject of my novel (Alexander) etc. Basically he was putting me down. That pretty well set the tone for the rest of the night, with me ending up being in tears and each time I tried to defend myself from the onslaught I was shouted down. Well, not exactly 'shouted', but certainly not allowed to get a word in edgewise. His opinions are all that count. That Latino machismo. What kind of a 'friend' is that?
Needless to say, he's a 'friend' no longer. That was basically the last straw.
Every person who knows me is 100% supportive of my work, and particularly encouraging in regards to my novel which is taking so long to write and is such a difficult project. I take my writing seriously. Obviously this person trivializes it and, it seems to me, can't stand it that I am reasonably successful with my craft.
I stormed out in the end. Walked home in the rain which gave me some time to settle down.
I just reread the email I sent him. That's it. Finito. I have (and must) withdraw myself from this toxic relationship.
So here it is today, Sunday, and no...I am not feeling sad any more...just resolved. This afternoon my pal Ingrid is coming over for dinner so we can plan our trip to Greece. Later I'm meeting my Havana Buddies at the LQ to take in the Sunday night salsa service. A new girl friend is joining us too, because she was also in Cuba recently. We're all going to reminisce, wish we were still there in the warm Cuban sunshine.