Meg's Musings

Morbidly Romantic

I was in the basement of the main library listening to a jazz group called Glissando yesterday. They played an interesting mix of tejano, jazz and classical.

But here's where the title comes in; while playing the lead guy was encouraged to tell a story about the Andean music they were about to play. He started out by saying that many South American tribes had engaged in cannibalism. Then he told the story of a medicine man who was called away to another village and found that his wife had died and been buried in his absence. He was so filled with grief that he dug her up and made a flute out of her femur.

The band all kinda laughed. The audience all kinda laughed. He commented that it was kinda morbidly romantic--he wanted to keep a part of her near him.

Yeah, I see it.

But I don't dream of such love for myself.

posted by Me @ 20:18