A neighbor in his late seventies told an amazing love story to Katrina Liebst and I yesterday. He met the love of his life at Howard University. He graduated in (I believe) 1961 and she a year or two later. He moved to NYC to experience the art scene and the jazz clubs here, and she, Janice, agreed to come to NY to live with him for a year so they could experience it together. They were in love and had an amazing year together, but at the end of the year she wanted to go back to Oklahoma (where she was from), and she wanted Walter to come with her. He thought about it, but in the end he decided not to go. He says its the one decision he regrets the most in his life, and he has though about Janice ever since. She never spoke to him again, but he always wanted to apologize to her, and to talk to her again. Now, 52 years later Katrina and I are making it our mission to find her and see if we can link them up. This kind of feels like a documentary, right, Bon Bankole? Anyway, this also made me think about wasting time, and about love. I think Im ready for some damn romance. None of this other nonsense. The gorgeous but broke bohemians who float around, the brilliant guys who are in the middle of some major life crisis, or the way too young boys are Not Gonna Work. A Clive Owen or an Idris Elba would be awesome, but someone who is breathing and who has a job could work. As long as they are not afraid to claim this!!
Posted on: Tue, 29 Jul 2014 22:05:15 +0000