Featuring Henry Denander

Call The Police

When we moved in to this flat our upstairs

neighbor still had his three teenage kids living

with him, since then the children have moved out

and it’s very quiet.

They had a lot of parties and were sometimes

really loud. The father was on tour in the summer

and every weekend there was a party upstairs.

But we never complained, they were dancing and

singing and for us there was no real problem.

They were always really kind and well behaved –

just young and happy. The father asked me once

if there was a problem when he was away and I

never grumbled, only told him that please if he

could hide that trumpet when he leaves next time.

One evening I went up there to protest but it was

not a party it was the son Calle playing his

electric guitar with the amplifier extremely loud

and his room was right above our bedroom.

One morning I met Calle and his sister in the lift

and we talked about everything but never

mentioned the party they had last weekend.

Suddenly Calle said:

– I can hear you snoring from below, you must be

snoring really loud.

- Yes, perhaps I do, I said.

I realized I have been too kind to them, I should

have been more militant. They have no respect

for me. Next time I will call the police.

Before they do.

Via Formia

At the train station in Naples we

notice that the next train to

Rome travels via Formia and

that’s where we want to get off.

This was better than we thought,

two hours and we

will be there.

On the way on the train we

are paying for our tickets and

we discover that the train will go

directly to Rome.

But, we say, it said “Via Formia” on the

big sign.

Yes, the train will pass Formia but

it will not stop there.

We had to go all the way to Rome and

then back again.

This is charming when you are on holiday but

this would never happen here in Sweden,

of course.

But here in Sweden there is no

place called Formia,

only places like Eskilstuna and Nässjö,

where trains seldom stop anyway.

Man of many talents

He is one of my best friends and he used to be my boss at the record

company where I worked for many years. He is a remarkable man

with an enormous experience from the music industry, a well-known

authority and a very respected man in the music business all over the

world.

Among his many talents is being able to fall asleep almost

everywhere, especially after dinner but even at meetings that drag on

too long. He is an expert also in this field; the way he wears his

glasses and his upright posture conceal that he is sleeping. At many

late night dinners he has managed to take a nap without anyone

noticing.

His main accomplishment was at a concert with the band Motörhead,

an early metal band playing with an intensely loud volume. When the

lead singer Lemmy looked down at the front row he noticed my friend

the director of the record company taking a nap in the middle of the

song.

That time it was obvious that he was sleeping. But I think even

Lemmy must have been impressed.

Chet Baker at Fasching

Chet Baker came to Stockholm to play the Fasching Jazz Club.

He called and I went to see him at his hotel. We had spent some

time together in London the year before and he was one of my

jazz heroes.

At the Salvation Army hotel I was shown to his room but Chet

hardly wanted to open the door, he just took the recordings I

brought him and we chatted briefly. He had a friend in there, a

Swedish jazz musician and the hotel room was filled with sweet

and heavy smoke. I left and we said we would talk more at the

jazz club that night.

In between sets at Fasching I tried to get in contact with Chet

but his friend was really nervous and the same sweet smoke

came out of Chet’s dressing room. I said hi to Chet & his band

but soon the Swedish friend closed the door.

I was the financial director of Chet’s record company in

Sweden; I was a bean counter but not a police officer. Chet

knew this, we had been drunk together in London, but his friend

from Sweden maybe thought I was with the drug enforcement

agency.

I left them and went back to my friends at the bar and got drunk

on beer and Jaegermeister.

Chet’s playing that night at Fasching was absolutely beautiful,

the tone of his trumpet and voice was so very soft and he

sounded better than ever.

Or maybe it was just because we were

high, Chet and I?

Revenge (in the morning)

I wake up and notice that our son has (as every

night) moved to our bed in the early hours of the

morning. My wife is still sleeping and snoring

softly and William is sleeping with his head five

centimeters from my wife’s face and he is also

snoring slowly.

How come my snoring is always such a problem?

Marie says that they can’t sleep because of my

snoring and William says the same.

If I had been really cruel and looking for revenge

I would have wakened them up now accusing

them both of snoring.

But I am not like that.

Not this time.

Bio: HENRY DENANDER was born in 1952 and shares his time between Stockholm, Sweden and Hydra, Greece. He is an artist and a poet and his latest book “The Accidental Navigator” was published by Lummox Press. He has two forthcoming publications from Pig Ear Press. He has a website with poetry and art at www.henrydenander.com.