It’s one thing to be down, but to be lonely, alienated and surrounded by inferior, but enviable, peers is something else. Lo’s is a unique world, built on infinite time and finite friendships. Elusive kindred spirits; some gracefully feminine, some haphazardly masculine- all are temporary by design- coming and going from his so called playground until they’re swept away by the endless sea of time to drift safely on the warm, calm waters in his heart.
Jack, Lo’s best friend in 21st century New York City, recommends a change of scenery. “Look big guy– All of this endless eternity shit is a real buzz kill… Find yourself a new zip code!”
Feeling melancholy and too disillusioned with his remarkable situation to resist Jack’s advice, Lo reluctantly moves his favorite barcalounger into a penthouse apartment in Harlem, half past it’s prime, but a quarter ’til his unforeseeable future.
A future that scrutinizes the blood and guts of second chances.
Lo befriends his curious downstairs neighbor, young Antoine, along with three different women; women distinctly shaped by their culture, generation, and uniquely personal experiences, but complete in their dedication to the adolescent black boy with a deformed hand and a fearless soul that smells distinctly of warm popcorn.
Lo’s bond with Antoine and his mother, Clementine- a woman who’s innate female essence reminds Lo of “Sin mixed with Sunday morning”- quickly begins to tear down and rebuild his obsolete, monotonous existence, mentally and physically, from the ground up, in an unimaginable way.
A way that sends Lo pin-balling back and forth through time and place on a violent, sensual, sentimental trip. In search of answers to a mysterious antiquated object, found purely by accident, while mindlessly going through the motions of just-another-day-at-the-office at Sotheby’s.
The discovery forces Lo to revisit people and places long gone from his past.
Some loved and cherished.
Others stone cold dead by his own hand, and buried unmercifully in the vast graveyard of his subconscious.
Retracing events and reluctantly taking accountability for who he once was, who he still is, and the sacrifices he’s willing to make for the taste of a life admired from afar, a life that so many men take for granted.
Full of gnarly passion, brazen human emotion, raw awkwardness, chummy dynamics, quirky hope, deep seeded secrets, and plain old fashioned embarrassment, devotion and homegrown redemption.
Lo’s journey through a modern day present to reflect on his increasingly relevant but ancient past takes on a life of it’s own, reminding the reader that the devil’s in the details, and escorts us, bourbon in hand, to a scintillating place that any decent, hard working mortal man would gladly give what’s left of their 401k to visit.