We [me and Rorn] had cruised down to Wellington for some reason that I forget, and we ended up sitting in Cuba Mall, drinking with a large selection of our friends, and of course my sister's little chihuahua Miguel Sanchez. Miguel attracted lots of attention, especially from a crazy looking little child with blonde hair and blue eyes. I didn't know where she'd come from or where her parents were, but I decided to let her hold Miguel.
Then my sister pulls me aside and says "That little girl is a devil. Me and Rose were up in Central Park one day and her and her siblings were causing no end of trouble for us. We were just trying to have a quiet smoke and she kept coming up and saying stuff like 'I'm telling on you' and 'My brother said to say "Fuck you"' I tell you that little girl is a devil." Now, I know my sister isn't one to make these sort of things up, so I started keeping a very close eye on the little devil.
Anyway, Wellington being Wellington and all, there was some sort of festival or carnival going on, and presently the Wellington Carnival Street Band set up on the stage in Cuba Mall and started to play for us. It must have been about 17:00, and a large number of people were walking past: heading home from work or getting in some last-minute consuming before the shops shut. Everyone was rushing by, hardly pausing to appreciate the music.
So we got up and danced. We danced like people possessed. It was easy: they were playing an infectious set of horn-orientated samba and swing: the beats were funky and the groove was upbeat. We had not heard any of the songs before, except for the «Muppets» theme song, but it was some really cool shit.
As I danced to the free music and watched the busy busy people bustle by with no time to spare, I couldn't help think that here I was having free fun while the (capitalist) chains that hold them down give them no freedom and no fun. I came up with my new slogan: "fun will always be free!"
The little devil girl was running around, and so they gave her a small percussion instrument to keep her amused. And they let Sammy Vulture join in on her violin. It made me feel so happy to see that such things could go on even in the nasty big city. But of course eventually it had to end.
After that Sammy and me cruised down to see the installation/performance art piece Urban Dream Capsule, which involved four men living in the window of Farmers for 10 days or so. There was a small crowd watching them. Sammy soon made this a large crowd, because she whipped out her violin once again and started playing to the men. They started dancing to her music, causing the crowd to laugh.
When she had finished playing she tried to get some money off the crowd: afterall, she was busking. But the men in the window "tut-tuted" her, and so she got nothing for her efforts, which I thought was kind of sad, seeing as it's how she makes her living.
All the excitement was over, and the autumn evening was starting to get a bit chilly, so we left, our fun ended for the day. And hopefully someone who saw us dancing will have taken a little of that free spirit into their hearts.
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5 years ago
