The love song of C. Owsley Rain (cont.)
As you may have gathered by reading the cover story of last week’s CN&R, Culture Vulture is obsessed with love.
In acquiescence to those who noted that Culture Vulture put together the article without relating the mythic love tale of self and the lovely I. Daphne St. Brie, I tell that tale to you now, just after Valentine’s Day, because as sweet as a holiday celebrating romantic love is, it’s the rest of the year that gives the day its meaning and value.
So cast your mind back about 10 years and picture young C. lounging in his cozy basement apartment on Third Street. The cat, Artie, a magnificent gray and black tabby, luxuriates on a cushion in one of the deeply inset windows. From the stereo, the sultry voice of PJ Harvey moans the lyrics of “To Bring You My Love.”
The phone rings. It’s C.'s friend, surrealist painter Ann Erpino , inquiring if he could give a friend of hers some pointers in using Photoshop so she can bluff her way through a job interview. “Sure. No problem. Have her meet me at my office on Saturday at 2.”
The day of the Photoshop session arrives. A sunshiny, brisk autumn day. C. waits on the steps of his office at 330 Wall Street. At the appointed hour a tall, unostentatiously beautiful young lady with strawberry blond hair, a peaches-and-cream complexion and a demur but friendly smile approaches. She’s wearing some funky old-school heavy-rimmed tortoise-shell glasses, a boy’s striped green button-down shirt, a rust-colored wool cardigan, Levi’s and a pair of men’s black oxfords. She is I. Daphne St. Brie.
C. thinks she looks cool, like an alt-rock librarian. And she’s smart! Ten minutes into his introduction to Photoshop lesson she’s intuitively pointing out features that C. has only the dimmest comprehension of.
Turns out Daphne had worked as a photographer for the governor of California, and knows much more about real photography than C. ever will. At the end of a couple of hours C. knows more about Photoshop than he did when Daphne showed up.
It having been a pleasant afternoon, when Daphne suggests that they walk around the corner to Duffy’s so she can buy him a beer in appreciation of the Photoshop session, he accepts. They take a table and play the jukebox and talk about stuff that people who have just met talk about. They become friends. When Daphne offers to buy another beer C. says, “If you get the job, I’ll let you buy me one. In the meantime, allow me.”
A few days later C. pops into Duffy’s during the break of a Suicidal Tendencies show at the Brick Works. Daphne is there. He’s really happy to see her and never goes back to the concert.
A year and eight months later we climbed Monkey Face with three of our best friends and conducted our own wedding ceremony with Chico spread out beneath us. That afternoon we had a huge reception/celebration at Daphne’s parents’ house.
The longer we’re together, the more deeply in love we fall.