Debora Curry
English Dept - Administrative Assistant
Email: debora.curry@gcccd.edu
Office Hours: Monday-Friday 8am to 10am and 2pm to 4pm - email Debora for link for her Zoom Office hours
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| Letter: December 13-17, 1962 |
Today is my birthday. Today I am 14[1] years old. The time is 4:40 and the date is December 13th. I am in the library. For my birthday I recieved [sic] a record of Roland Kirk’s album “We Free Kings,”[2] and a shirt. I feel…. Don’t know how I feel. This feeling is unexplainable. It is a feeling of existence. It’s getting dark inside.
Opposite me there is a shelf of books. I will describe them: “Anthology of World Poetry,” “The Oxford Companion to American Literature,” “The American Treasury 1455-1955,” “A Library of Literary Criticism,” “Masters of American Literature,” “The Oxford Book of American Verse,” “Digest of Great American Plays,” “The Oxford Companion to English Literature,” “The New Century Handbook of English Literature,” “The Concise Cambridge History of English Literature,” “The Viking Book of Poetry of the English-Speaking World” in two volumes, “The Oxford Book of English Verse,” “An Oxford Anthology of English Poetry,” “The Home Book of Verse, Vol I,” and others, on into the thousands. Wait a minute, I’ll go get one.
Without looking, I reached in and took one. It’s “Milton Cross’ Encyclopedia of the Great Composers and Their Music” Volume II.[3]
—•—
The words above were written four days ago. I didn’t finish my description because I saw my mother outside, waiting for me, so I went home to listen to my new Roland Kirk record.
This girl which I mentioned here several days ago—her name is Tamara. Her real name is [redacted] but everyone calls her Tamara, and that is what I call her. Saturday, being dizzy and aimless after “The Manchurian Candidate,”[4] walked down to Calvin’s (now Aaron’s)[5], in, she gave me her terrific smile, I smiled back and filled her in on the dazed look in my eyes and the movie which had turned me inside out. I asked if they had any cups for the water machine with empty cups dispenser, alas, they had non, so I went over and selected a record, Bobby Scott’s “A Taste of Honey,”[6] and asked Tamara to play it. She did so and I sat down on piano bench to listen to nice boppish[7], David Amram[8]-like music. Which was too much, not only for me but also for the customers, so we had to take it off (much to my irritation) right in the middle of the 3rd band. I went and browsed some more, later, when there weren’t so many customers, I picked up Ray Charles[9]/Milt Jackson[10]’s “Soul Brothers,” slit the cellophane cover with my thumb to open it and told Tamara to put it on, I had it and she would die listening to the purity and truth of crying, blues, “How Long Blues.” She did so and we sat down to listen, she on floor, me on piano-chair, but soon on floor too, so as to hear better. Taken away by the music, I sat there, blank look in eyes, thumb nail in mouth, childlike and innocent, when I saw, in a car passing by and staring at me with sarcastic smile of the one who sees an idiot, Cricket, queen of teenage b*tches, looking disdainfully at nonconformist me from her popularity whirlpool. But the hell with her—and with all those production line people, too busy doing nothing to ever be different, to even think, to even see, hear, smell, cry, laugh, scream, moan, or do any other thing real humans do. Those people are not lucky. They are not glamorous. They are ridiculous. They are absurd. I do not envy them. I pity them. For they will never know the beauty of Ray Charles crying alto saxophone. They add nothing beautiful to anyone’s life, and therein is their absurdity. The only life worth living is the one which brings beauty to one’s fellow man. For, as Ornette Coleman[11] said, “Beauty is a rare thing.” Beauty is the great gift of life. If we do not give beauty to someone, we are worthless. For, God or no god, this is our purpose on earth, to bring happiness, and beauty—which in itself is the only real, unshakeable truth—to each other.
[1] In the handwritten letter, Lester revised his age from "15" to "14."
[2] Kirk, Rahsaan Roland, b. 1935. American jazz multi-instrumentalist; the titular composition of his We Free Kings LP (Mercury Records, 1961) was a variation on the popular Christmas carol, “We Three Kings.”
[3] Cross, Milton and David Ewen, eds. Milton Cross' Encyclopedia of the Great Composers and Their Music: A New Revised Edition (Volume 2). Doubleday & Co, 1962.
[4] The Manchurian Candidate. Dir. by John Frankenheimer. Based on the novel by Richard Condon. United Artists, 1962. Starring Frank Sinatra and Angela Lansbury. A Cold War espionage thriller released during the Cuban Missile Crisis.
[5] Aron’s Records, in El Cajon
[6] Scott, Bobby. b. 1937. American songwriter, musician, and producer. The song “Taste of Honey” was co-written with Ric Marlow and was, both, released as a single and included on the Taste Of Honey LP (Atlantic Records, 1960).
[7] in the style of bebop
[8] Amram, David. b. 1930. American classical composer renowned for integrating jazz improv; he worked with such creative luminaries as Dizzy Gillespie, Charles Mingus, and Jack Kerouac. His film scores include The Manchurian Candidate and others.
[9] Charles, Ray. b. 1930. Revered and pioneering American musician, composer, singer-songwriter. The Soul Brothers LP (Atlantic Records, 1957) was one of many collaborations with bebop musician Milt Jackson.
[10] Jackson, Milt “Bags.” b. 1923. American jazz bebop musician renowned for his Modern Jazz Quartet solos and his collaborations with other jazz artists, including Ray Charles.
[11] Coleman, Randolph Denard Ornette. b. 1930. American jazz saxophonist, violinist, trumpeter, and composer credited as being one of the innovators of the Free Jazz movement.
Debora Curry
English Dept - Administrative Assistant
Email: debora.curry@gcccd.edu
Office Hours: Monday-Friday 8am to 10am and 2pm to 4pm - email Debora for link for her Zoom Office hours
8800 Grossmont College Drive
El Cajon, California 92020
619-644-7000
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