Happy House – Souxsie and the Banshees – Push to Play
If I could only describe those days to you.
That place. That time.
The Sounds, Lights and Smells.
Words and phrases may fail me, but I will try, and why?
Because the spirits. The ancestors dropped, quite literally, two words at my feet.
Remember (bottle of Memory Drops) Happiness (bottle of Happiness oil)
They fell right out of the cabinet at me.
Remember Happiness.
A message doesn’t get any clearer than that does it now?
So I did.
I took a drop of each, rubbed it on each wrist, sat back and closed my eyes.
I walked out through the earliest memories searching for elation. The true happiness moments. I knew them when I felt myself smiling at the re-play. I sifted through the cards of the past until one hit me.
That moment.
The moment of true content. True happiness.
I remember. Probably the best time of my life.
The Cabaret Voltaire.
Memories so strong you can still feel them.
A coffeeshop run by some college kids as a project for some class they had at VCU.
We went in after them and when we came out, the whole world outside had changed.
No one saw that we were in some strange time machine. That time itself was about to change. That everything would change.
Strange Stargate.
We stepped in and out of worlds, times, genres there. We were everything there.
I remember the first time I ever went. My girl Candi Brown had the hook up, she went all the time, I was new. I had just moved to South Norfolk, just met her.
They didn’t open until around 9 pm or so. Dark-thirty. So we had to wait around all night, messing around downtown.
There’s this line when we get there. For a coffeeshop.
Nothing is happening. No bands, no open mic, nothing. It’s just Friday night.
This is the coolest looking mix of people I have ever seen in my life. Beatniks. Old men. Hippies. Punks. Bums. Goths. Kids like us. Artists. Musicians played out on the sidewalk, Poets got laughed out of the corners. Everyone in the Underground had managed to conglomerate right here in this place.
Finally they open the doors.
The small gang of older beatnik looking dudes were in the front and they situated themselves pretty much around the chessboard table. Everyone else spread out and headed for the counter to get coffees.
Even though, back in those days there was a waitress. Laurie. She was also a fabulous artist but it was faster to wait in line at the counter.
I was fascinated. Everyone knew or wanted to know Candi and she had everyone trying to talk to her all at once while she introduced me. We made it up to the coffee counter and I just remember this haze. This feeling. This atmosphere. Like, not of this Earth atmosphere.
It was dark and smoky. The lights were lamps on side tables. The furniture was all from thrift stores with a couple couches, coffee tables, lazyboy recliners and a few actual café tables mixed in. There was a stage at one end but that night no one was on it.
The walls were each painted a different color. Dark Red, Dark Blue…
There were murals painted on them by the fabulous Jim Carmines. Paintings we cannot see again except in old photos if there are any. If he sees this or anyone who knows sees him, tell him hello for me.
The floor had a painted rug on it.
You could see an upstairs loft with a tiny staircase leading up to it. The front was open and you could see people up there already, moving around and hanging over the balcony, looking down at us.
It looked like that was the place to be for sure and there were people overheard saying there was some local news people up there.
Hanging out, not working.
There were people talking and music playing on the jukebox.
I remember this song.
Connected – Stereo MC’s – Push to Play
So it’s like a club in there. All the people know each other and everyone knows Candi. She’s like a fucking celebrity. She was a force, and is now a Goddess.
Even the menu in this place was fabulous. They served Captain Crunch Berries cereal, grilled cheese, p-nut butter and jelly, bagels and cream cheese of course, and etc.
The dopey guy behind the counter gets us our coffees and after souping it up with a lot of sugar and questionable creamer, Candi says we have to go up to the loft. Of course we do, but she also says first we need to scope around a find out who is up there already.
Once we find that all not-cool people that may be up there are not up there, we head up.
Up a shaky staircase to a room with a view.
You had to hunch over cause it was only so tall up there and it was totally seated hanging out only. But. You could hang over the small balcony and see everyone coming into the Cab. There were cushions to sit around on and it was dark up there. There were hardly any lights, just a few lamps.
There were so many people who came and went. People popped their heads up from the stairs, surveyed who was up there and left, or hunched on in.
There I was. Crazy.
I was awkward, an art nerd, a nerd. Like, not a really smart one. Like, a Dungeons and Dragons one, no offense. I had never really been in the coolest places and never really thought about it, and while I was still the weird, too quiet person driving the car or hanging off to the side,
That was Okay.
It was okay with this crowd. In this place. I was so happy.
In any place where Cabaret people were gathered together in Voltaire’s name.
And I do hope that is not blasphemous, but it is true.
This loft was a dark and cozy nest of weird ass people from all ages and all walks of life. Snuggled in with super sweet hot coffee, Earl Gray or chocolate, clove cigarettes and the music notes of undiscovered rhythms wrapping all around you.
People talking all around you so it becomes a sea of murmurs, a hum.
The rich smell of coffee in the air and the laughter.
I remember a lot of laughter.
Needless to say I became an obsessive regular like everyone else. With the exception that I actually convinced them to hire me as a waitress after Laurie quit.
It was my Cheers.
I grew up there.
When they closed it was around the same time Jerry died. Both of them left all of us with no place to go.
The Dead died and the Cab closed. 1995.
Four years later life would change for the entire world. Forever.
We stood on a threshold in those days but we didn’t know it.
The Revolution an undercurrent all around us.
It’s amazing how little we knew about the changes coming. How different the world would become. How much we would lose.
In these coming times I hope everyone can have a moment.
To sit back and close your eyes.
To try and remember the happiest moments no matter when they occurred. Try to remember your happiness.
To smile. To laugh. To reflect and give thanks for those moments.
Whatever they are, they are yours. They keep us afloat. They keep us sane.
Lots of Love to You out there Friends.
<3 <3 <3