One persons stale bread is anothers gourmet meal.
During the band days we had a close friend, who acted as manager for a short while, as we tended to manage ourselves.
Anyway, her name was Dennis. ( as in the boys name)
To be honest, I've never met anyone quite like her since.
Dennis was on the brink of her filmaking career. She had a great eye, made a film with another well known film maker.
Beautiful looking woman, tiny really, with long locks.
Anyway, one day out of the blue, I got a call to say she had died. I was stunned. Died in Ghana, malaria. That's where she rests.. never came 'home'.. she was home.
Today, my thoughts have turned to women I've known over the years. How different they all are. Yet some - not so different to another.
During those years, I used to act as mediator to two friends who'd bitch constantly about each other - I tried - It seemed to work for awhile - but they were unable to stop. I got sick of it and left them be.
I think now they're grown - they've grown out of that. Call it a phase if you will.
Dennis was on a whole other level really, and with her being gone - I realize it even more.
An old reggae classic by Judy.
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