Music is a certainty among ports of call, from Kingston Town to the St. Ann Mountains, from Puerto Gallera to the Mangyan mountains. Like a heat-guided missile, feeling the circuits flow as the surface heats, the music starting tentative, respectful and then asserting it as I am welcomed to join the assembled circle, share humanness and meaning.
People, People, People, Jimi said. And I know what he meant.
And music has saved me from rash decisions. As Bob Marley sang, Who feels it knows it Lord.
**Mysterioso himself, crumpled in felt fedora.
**Oh wait, and MC Lyte?