CHAPTER 21 (part
1)
THE ALCAIDESA
YEARS.
In 2004 I finally retired from the
retail fashion trade.
I had started working in the family business at the age
of 14, part-time, then full time at 15. In all I did 44 years behind the
counter.
I cannot complain since, as the saying goes:
"If you love the work you do, you never have to work a day in your
life". Despite some very hard years, all in all, I had enjoyed those 44
years which ended up in my closing our two remaining shops, TEO and SWEATERS,
in La Linea.
There were various reasons why I took
that decision. I was 58 years old then and still in good health, but the
fashion industry was changing much faster than I could adapt to it. Especially
as a buyer, I saw myself losing my touch as well as my enthusiasm for the high-speed
tendency in fashion, fashion which to my mind, was deteriorating and repetitive. I was in Madrid with
my second wife at a Trade Fair in February of that year and a young salesman
was offering me the latest style in jeans.... Flares!
I know I showed my age when I smiled at him and said:
" I've sold these in the 60s, the
70s, the 80s ... This is just a recycled fashion."
The young man was a bit deflated. He
was probably born in the late 80s and fashion history was probably not his
forte.
That was when my wife smiled at me
patronisingly and said:
"David, look around, most of
these sales people are so young they could be your grandchildren!"
I assure you that my divorcing her 6
months later had nothing to do with that remark!
My Dad had died 6 years earlier, the
Big C finally caught up with him after 6 and half years and many a losing
battle. Since my mother was elderly too, it fell upon me to be his escort and
carer during his many treatments at the Royal Marsden Hospital in London.
How can I not mention the old Calpe House too?
We stayed there several of the long periods during which Dad underwent the intensive
treatments required. It was a “home away from home”.
Coming back from a
treatment, Dad & I, and seeing other Yanitos whom we knew, some well, other
just by sight, was medicinal in itself.
We often say “I am proud to be Gibraltarian” … but not really having done much
to be proud about our home town. Yet Calpe House must surely rank as the
crowning altruistic achievement of our times.
Those six and a half years changed me.
I must admit I was rather conceited about my business successes, as well as my survival
from catastrophes, all undoubtedly thanks to the Almighty who gave me the
wherewithal to achieve this. And during those years, vanity crept up on me
surreptitiously. I sported a gold watch, gold identity bracelet, gold necklace,
gold signet ring with my family crest .....
I cringe at the memory of this even as I write these words.
Marsden gave me a crash course on reality, on true values, on Life itself. One day,
sitting at the bedside of my father, working on the portable computer on my
lap, I stopped working and looked at his sleeping form. It was then I realised
something I will share with you now, which you will either understand
immediately …. or perhaps never
understand it at all?
"Whatever you can buy and sell
.....has NO VALUE!"
The realization was so powerful I
could no longer bear wearing the symbols of my own vanity. I took off all my
jewellery and swore never to wear gold again, never to think so highly of
myself as to believe I was better than anyone else. What HAS value in life is
health, family, love and compassion.
You cannot buy that; nor can you sell
it.
That day, when Dad woke up, I embraced
him in a new way, a cleaner way, the way that translated to him the love I had
for him and the appreciation for everything that I was, the seeds of which he
had planted. I could not wait to get back to Gibraltar and do the same with my
mother and with my children. This was 22 years ago (at the time of writing this
chapter, 1995 I think) … and I have never
worn jewellery since, not even an expensive watch, nor drove a flash car, nor
expensive branded clothes. To this day I endeavour to work on humility …. I
think I may have achieved a modicum of modesty … humility still escapes me
alas.
But I digress.......
, in 2005 I moved to Alcaidesa where I
had a modest, no-frills, two-bedroom apartment...." far from the Madding
Crowd" as they say. I needed that. I needed my tranquillity, I needed
being in touch with nature, I needed to understand myself better …….and I
needed to write.
Despite two marriages and two
divorces, for which I accept 50% of the blame, I remain an addicted romantic. I
met an exquisitely beautiful lady in her 40s who was going through a divorce
yourself. Misery loves company so they say, but in this case, it was her beauty
that attracted me.... and I was off again! I do not remember a time when I did
not write and that includes poetry, but "Danae" as I called her,
pulled out all the stops in me.
Why "Danae"?
Take a look at the painting of that
name by Gustav Klimt, one of my favourite painters. Early morning, as dawn
broke over the Mediterranean horizon I got up and looked at her sleeping on our
bed ….. and in my mind, the “Danae” of
Klimt’s painting was lying there by my side. The relationship was not smooth
sailing since I was recovering from one divorce and she was battling in
another. One morning she caught me writing a poem and asked to read it. To my
great chagrin, she smiled politely at my "masterpiece" and said:
"No esta mal..." (Not bad)
OUCH!
Did Byron or Keats, Neruda or Machado ever received such a condescending
comment?
Ha ha ha ....no, I know my limitations and they are many, but her comment
intrigued me.
"No te gusta la poesia?" (Don’t
you like poetry) I asked.
"Si ... I love poetry and like
writing it too"
I rose to the challenge, what else
could I do? and asked her to show me one of her poems.
The next day, she did.
OOPS!
It was good!
No, …… it was very, very good!
It was modern in the sense that exact rhyming was not a priority to her, but
her grasp of the language of Cervantes left me in kindergarten by comparison.
(Que verguenza!) How could I salvage
this embarrassment?
I am nothing if not a salesman, so,
quick as a flash, I explained that mine was not a poem but the lyrics for a
song that I had decided to write about her.
SNAP BANG! I had regained my
footing ... or for now at least.
What did I know about lyrics?
About writing songs?
About music?
I could barely strum the opening notes of “Doce Cascabeles lleva mi Caballo" on
a guitar.
Enter "Levi (the Lawyer)
Attias"
Well, not literally. Levi is a highly
talented poet and good friend and I showed him the poem for his consideration.
No, MY poem ... I already knew how good hers was!
"Que bueno, David" was his
opening comment. My confidence was being restored.
"Take it to Denis Valerga and he
can compose music for it, he is very talented. He has already done several
songs for me"
This was excellent advice and as Denis
also lived in Alcaidesa at the time, that evening I armed myself with the poem
and a bottle of Merlot from the Golan Wineries of Israel, and knocked on his
door.
This was the start ….. no, the
rekindling.... of our friendship, and the start of a joint venture lubricated by
many a bottle of wine which drowned the shared feelings of an impossible love
which Dennis too, had known.
This was the poem that started our
many evenings in the peaceful setting of Alcaidesa and culminated in our CD
"DANEA - Canciones de Amor”
DANAE ©
Te apodé… "Danae"
Al verte dormida en mi cama
Tu cabello adornando tu rostro
Tu muslo …..de la sabana se destapaba
Pintada por Klimt mientras tú
Dormía en brazos de Morfeo
Más dormida o despierta…….
Con toda mi alma te deseo
Hoy no hay quien te vea
De mi busca esconderte
Y en Parada y en Paseo
Se te ve siempre ausente
Que temes, Danae?
Tal efecto te causa
Que al ver mi rostro
Tu corazón se pausa?
Es que dudas tu decisión
De cortar por lo sano?
O quizás deseas volver
Conmigo….. mano en mano?
Erótica y sensual
Despierta o dormida
Danae, te amaré
Mientras
yo tenga vida
For the braver ones, here is the You Tube link
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=
All in all, we put together 10 poems
which started with the beginning of the Danae affair – “La Mentira” - and ended
with its inevitable demise – “El Ultimo Adios”.
Both Denis and I are
dyed-in-the-wool fans of the late Leonard Cohen and so it was inevitable for
the style of the songs to follow closely the music and singing style of the
Master himself, though in Spanish .
Needless to say, she herself, my own Danae
was chuffed!
In all honesty I too was over the moon. It is one thing to write a poem which
speaks of intense feelings within me; it is quite another to hear the words set
to music by a composer of the expertise of my friend Denis. It is no surprise
that he has worked and continues to work closely with the most famous
Gibraltarian of them all in music, Albert Hammond himself.
The whole venture lasted for longer than the affair itself. The latter ended
when the madness of her midlife crisis run its course. However as the long-term
friendship with Denis continue to grow …..as long as his beautiful friend Lone
continued to be the excellent hostess with the mundane pizzas I would bring to
accompany the excellent wine .... what can I say? At the end of each evening,
the company and the wine made every song even more beautiful than we could ever
have imagined at the time.
But I do not do things by half.
Riding on the high of the finished CD, I went to my friend Toby, then managing the
Rock Hotel, and he kitted out the Blue Room as a miniature Concert Hall. Denis brought
in a Spanish singer to do the choruses and he set up the speakers, microphones,
amplifiers and incredible paraphernalia that are "de riguer" for any
musical performance these days. I took care of stocking the bar with a light
sparkling Bartenura Rose and Lone (pronounced Lo-neh)
I must admit it was presumptuous of
me, but the excitement of creating jointly this CD with Denis was such a joy
that I wanted to share it with my friends. No, if you're wondering, Danae never
attended, nor have I heard from her since. Much to my surprise the genuine
comments of praise by the audience, despite it being composed of about 50 or 60
friends and their wives, was worth the expense and the trouble.
So much so that a few weeks later the
late Lewis Stagnetto, who only recently has passed on, far too young, and his
wonderful wife Anne Langdon Stagnetto, agreed to duplicate this in the classy
restaurant they had in Spain. If it was good at the Rock Hotel it was
indescribably better, more intimate, more fun in their restaurant. I am forever
grateful to both of them for their support and encouragement.
As a footnote, and to be honest in
these snapshots of my life, if I should mention that the success of these songs
within the affair pushed me to take a step too far. Danae and I had visited the
Thyssen Art museum in Malaga and in a moment of utter madness, I offered to
paint a portrait of her.
"Pero ... tambien sabes
pintar?" ("But ... don’t tell me you also paint?")
I set up the spare room in Alcaidesa
with a sumptuous armchair on which I draped a curtain of red velvet and gold
embroidery. I had Danae pose for me, nude (is there any other way for such a
venture?) full frontal, looking fixedly at me with her piercing blue eyes. That
was when I realised I had ....N.P.I. (in
English N.F.I.)... how to proceed. But proceed I did, pencilling in the bare
outlines and not allowing her to see the mess I had drawn. I also took an iPad
photo of her and covered my fiasco from her eyes when she dressed and then we
had dinner. It took me a week to raise the level of the sketch to that of just
under the lowest cast-off by the worst of any Picasso student. Why did I not
pay attention in the art lessons of the late Mr Hermida, my arts teacher in the
grammar school! ! !
The dreaded day arrived and I primed
her with red wine and much talk of the wonderful style of Picasso, who, between
you and I, is definitely not my favourite painter..... far from it! When I
thought she was unfocused enough, I drew back the cloth covering the portrait and
she stared at my …...(What is the opposite of "masterpiece?) ….
"Hhhmmmm .... " she took
another sip wine, looked again and turned to me: "Porque me has pintado el
pecho tan caido?" (Why have you painted me with my breast hanging like
that?)
There are times when I could bite my tongue off ... this was one of them ...
unthinkingly I replied:
"Because that is how they are."
Do you think there is any link between
that evening and the ending of the affair a week later?
I leave you with that sad thought......or cruel snigger.... till the next chapter….
You know I love this story David. The self deprecating pathos. Brilliant!....but it now begs the question; is the photo of the blonde lady , is that the lady in question?
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