Wednesday
Wednesday was the next night out. My sinuses, clothes, and skin still had the sour stink of nicotine tar from the smoke filled bars of Pittsburgh. I needed a smoke free lounge so as to not build upon the layers of ash of cigarettes and cigars. I needed to be outside, aerated. I looked up to the heavens to find a rooftop lounge. Back in the harbor my gaze fell upon glowing glass walls, many stories above the street. in the distance. I followed the lights and ended up at the Four Seasons. Took the express elevator up to the Bygone.
Bygone
Perched on the top of the Four Seasons Baltimore, I could not have asked for a better start to my visit. The panoramic views coupled with expertly crafted cocktails is the other side of the coin of this dynamic and contradictory city.
I called it an early night, and as I was walking to the elevator, a smooth downtempo house track had melted into Marvin Gaye’s Distant Lover. It froze me in my tracks; I had to hear the rest of it. I headed back a few steps and had another liver tickler. It was too early anyway
This also happened at the Abbey in Pittsburg, where old-world opulence is de rigueur. Teena Marie’s Portuguese Love was played right after some Sexy House. I commented to the bartender (a twenty something African American woman) how intriguing it was to hear that song it in that kind of place. She agreed. I think her and I were the only two who took it all in.
A surprising thing is happening in the digital realms of world Spotify and Pandora. The algorithmic computation of our eventual overlords can pretty much match any good DJ’s mix. Lull me to complacency with a compilation of soothing Soul you cybernetic Siren, and I will do your bidding. Us talking monkeys have had a blast – time to move over.
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