Nostalgia…and Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski, drunk, reprobate, genius

‘Hank’ with his beloved Remington typewriter

It’s a well known fact that I have an on-going love affair with Charles Bukowski, poet, drunk, homeless bum, reprobate, genius.  We haven’t been back to visit with him lately and it’s way past time.  If you search my posts you can enjoy my other thoughts about his writings and poetry.  My favorite is an interview I conducted with him…posthumously.  Yes, nineteen years after his death.  If that seems crazy to you…then let me be insane.  But, read it before you judge.


magic machine ©  by Charles Bukowski

I liked the old records that
as the needle slid across
grooves well
you heard the voice
coming through
the speaker
as if there were a person
inside that
mahogany box

but you only listened while
your parents were
not there.
and if you didn’t wind
the victrola
it gradually slowed and

it was best in lateCharles Bukowski, poetry, wisdom
and the records spoke
love, love, love.
some of the records had beautiful people
others were orange, green
yellow, red blue.

the victrola had belonged to
my grandfather
and he had listened to those
and now I was a boy
I heard them.
and nothing I could think of
in my life then
seemed better than listening
to that
when my parents weren’t

Victrola record playing machineAs a tiny girl I remember the Victrola that my mother had.  It was truly magic.  The vinyls were of Benny Goodman, Glen Miller, Nat King Cole, Al Jolson and Billie Holiday.  My mother taught me to dance; the ‘swing’ (only she called it the jitterbug) to the sounds of those big bands.
When I was a young woman, the turn table, stereo system, radio and TV (black and white) were all contained in a beautiful piece of wooden furniture in the living room. A stereo system 1980's
One day my young husband and I went shopping for a ‘cassette player’.  Our eight track player had broken.  As the salesman showed us our choices, he leaned in and quietly told us,  “if you wait a few months, there’s a new thing coming out called a CD player.”  “What’s a CD?” we asked.  “It’s a disk-thing, about four inches across and holds a complete album.”  He jittered with excitement that this wondrous invention called a CD would be the next BIG thing.  As we stood there (circa 1980’s), the three of us, little did we know where all this was going……..

(title: You Get so Alone at Times, That it Just Makes Sense * C.Bukowski)
DON’T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS featuring INTERVIEWS with  best-selling AUTHORS!    Barbara Taylor Bradford is my May author.  Coming Soon! Dorothea Benton Frank and the writing duo, Tamara Thorne and Allistair Cross.
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