While we’re on the topic of friends…

October 28, 2008 at 2:39 pm · Filed under Jonathan Shaw, Narcisa, Rio

A little history:

My friend Tonico is a rare bird, like most people I know. The classic host with the most, a true ruling-class South American intellectual with a deep fascination with the outlaw side of underground culture. A real Swiss-educated, blue-blood, old money old-school Brazilian playboy, an upper class, well educated, highly
cultured gentleman whose top-shelf social standing and innate personal charm, intelligence and childlike wit and all-around ‘good vibes’, along with his passion for unrestrained partying get him laid more
than any man I’ve ever known. He’s like a cross between Clark Gable, The Greal Gatsby, Pepe La Peu, and a sort of Latin-lover Tony the Tiger on acid. He’s grrrreeeaat!

And Tonico has always admired and respected me like some sort of an oddball big brother. But he was literally terrified and repulsed by Narcisa from the first time he laid eyes on her. And he spent a great

deal of energy over the ensuing years scratching his head trying to understand my strange and powerful, seemingly fatal attraction for such an eccentric, loathsome creature….

The story:

I showed up with her to a party for Quincy Jones at Tonico’s stately mansion in the hills, the poor guy was in such a state he ran straight into the kitchen and hid all the knives. Of course, Narcisa, with her usual paranormal extra-sensory sensitivity picked up on his fears like a junkyard dog, and, just for fun, went right for his throat, unleashing a spewing sewer of her most creative and abrasive ghetto slang-spouting loonie toon crackhead diatribes and foul-mouthed punk street whore anarchist rhetoric. It had all made for a memorable evening.
By the end of the night, he came over, all embarrassed and begged me to please not bring her back around. We did leave, but not before Quincy Jones himself passed the legendary comment to him about Narcisa that will go down in history, if I’ve got anything to say about it.
”That’s the ugliest bitch I ever seen!”
I think the old jazzman was doubly horrified by the fact that I, the son, bastard or not, of his old pal Artie Shaw, a legendary ladies’ man who had banged the likes of Lana Turner and Ava Gardner back in the day, would even be seen in public with some skinny-legged, bug-eyed filthy monstrosity like Narcisa.
Different strokes, Quincy!

NOTIFICAÇÃO: Os eventos relatados neste site são contos de ficção registrados na Biblioteca Nacional com todos os direitos autorais revertidos ao autor Jonathan Shaw. Os personagens mencionados são inteiramente fictícios. Certos eventos, personagens, lugares e relatos, foram baseados em fatos reais, porém qualquer semelhança a qualquer pessoa viva ou morta se trata de pura coincidência. As várias fotografias apresentadas se encontram com o rosto distorcido para preservar o anonimato das modelos que representam personagens fictícios.

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