Noche de viernes, en una de aquellas reuniones con mi buen amigo Alejo Ferreyros, donde su sibaritismo me lleva a descubrir, siempre, secretos y senderos como los del Amaro Averna, el Dry Martini, algún filósofo cínico o díscolo, rarezas de Bob Dylan e impecables erudiciones sobre el blues.
Fue así como me reveló a Josh White, en el blues One Meat Ball, versión de nigérrimo humor -como diría Sol, la línea que separa el humor negro de la tragedia suele ser imperceptible- donde una enseñanza está clara:
No hay pan cuando pides una sola albóndiga... (lástima que esta versión no tenga los sardónicos coros de la que escuchara en casa de Alejo)
The little man walked up and down
To find an eating place in town
He read the menu through and through
To see what 15 cents could do
One meat ball
One meat ball
He could afford but one meat ball
He told the waiter near at hand
The simple dinner he had planned
The guests were startled one and all
To hear the waiter loudly call
One meat ball Everbody
One meat ball
Hey this here gent wants one meat ball
You know, the liitle man fet ill at ease
he said some bread sir If you please
The waiter hollered down the hall
You gets no bread with one meat ball
One meat ball
One meat ball
Well, you gets no bread with one meat ball
The little man felt very bad
One meat ball was all he had
And in his dreams he hears that call
You gets no bread with one meat ball
One meat ball and no spaghetti
One meat ball
You gets no bread with one meat ball
