~What would you do with Jeff for 120 minutes?
Date sent: Sat, 22 Feb 1997 17:16:49 -0500 (EST)
Subject: JBEL: 120 minutes with Jeff
Given the oppurtunity to spend 120 minutews with Jeff, I would take him to a bar called 2A (on Avenue A and 2nd street in NYC) we would sit there for a while and just chill, maybe have a few drinks, smoke some cigarettes. Then we would go back to his apartment and just talk; we could listen to some of his favorite music, and I would ask him all the pertinent questions like: What is the meaning of Life? Why are we here? What is the nature of love? Basically, I'd just have a philosophical night with him....
Date sent: Sat, 22 Feb 1997 19:57:57 -0500 (EST)
Subject: Re: JBEL: still dying for 120 minutes
Oh, the horrible possibilities...I jest. 120 minutes with Jeff, probably sit down with my flute, him with his guitar, and just play around...see if we came up with anything. And, of course, after a good hour of that, we could head out to Kan Zamin (okay, we'd have to be in Chicago for that), have some Middle Eastern food and drink Arabian tea (Arabian tea, gee, that sounds really good right now). Or maybe I'd just go to an art museum with him and look at some Modern Art. But, I like doing that with most people who are pensive or intelligent (which I can't guarantee he is either, because I haven't met him). But, then, if we are in NYC at Moma or the Guggenheim we would head up the Upper West side and get some soul food at the Shark Bar...Okay, I am stopping right now
Date sent: Sat, 22 Feb 1997 17:35:28 -0800
Subject: JBEL: 120 minutes with the man...
To: Jeff Buckley Postings <email@example.com
City Lights bookstore in SF, sipping beers, discussing Kerouac and Ginsberg.
Date sent: Sun, 23 Feb 1997 12:28:12 -0500 (EST)
Subject: JBEL: 120 Minutes With Jeff?
Gosh, given 120 minutes with Jeff I think I'd want to spend it drinking coffee and talking while coloring or drawing or somthing. I, of course, would ask several questions like, "What do you think is /was the biggest mistake or missed opportunity in your life?", "What do you think of Jesus Christ, the man and the "savior of all mankind"?.....and such.....I enjoy very candid, honest discussions with peopple....I wouldn't just blab the questions one after the other, and I, of course, would honestly answer the questions, too, if he wanted....or any questions he might have..I'd ask a lot about his dreams. I'd also ask things like if he ever had Flintstones vitamins when he was a kid, and if so, if he liked the Dinos best like I did. :-) I would top it all off with one of my homemade pasta dinners.....Mmmm...Yummy.....Maybe the coffee/art/discussion thing could instead of coffee be those new yummy Starbucks chilled coffee drinks, and we could do this at the park where we could look at the mountains. Alright, That's it.
Jeff IS one of the most attractive people ever if you ask me....and just as much of that image is created by his lyrics/music as it is his looks......and I would love to just nuzzle against hm, become drunk with the scent of him, start.......oh, never mind. Anyway, given only 120 minutes with someone that I perceive as so brilliant, I would have to bypass the sex.
Date sent: Thu, 13 Mar 1997 15:57:40 +1000 (GMT+1000)
Subject: JBEL: 120 minutes with Jeffy Baby
If I had 120 minutes with Jeff, I'd sit down with two guitars, a dozen plectums, a couple of slides and a book of tab ruled paper, and get him to teach me What Will You Say, WUIASP, All flowers in time etc....
Then I'd hop on the email and taunt The Keeper of the Pouched Ones and Mr Harris.
Then I'd steal Michael's box, crawl inside, and pull the flaps shut.
Date sent: Fri, 14 Mar 1997 03:36:45 -0500 (EST)
Subject: Re: JBEL: 120 minutes with Jeffy Baby
Copies to: firstname.lastname@example.org
I would ask him to come with me into a closet that's lit by candles and furnished with 2 comfortable easy chairs (probably covered in some really soft sheepskin covers), positioned opposite one another and then ask him to sit there and play acoustic versions of all of the songs on Grace on my guitar--to me.
Wow, I wish I could have dreamt that. Then it could have, sort of, really happened.
home is where the heart is
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