Shayfer James is seated across from me with his legs tightly crossed in a way that is as powerful as it is feminine. His hat is low, but his wild eyes are still visible. He hasn’t shaved today, so his normally manicured beard is framed by stubble and shadow. He smokes Nat Sherman cigarettes and sips whiskey from an antique rocks glass. Shayfer wears a white ‘v-neck’ t-shirt and an interesting jacket. He is shoeless today. He hates the idea that people judge others based on the shoes they wear, so he walked on tiptoes from the car. That is today’s code of living of course, tomorrow, I’m certain he’ll be wearing his ancient boots again. Shayfer is quirky, charming, and confident, but he should never be mistaken as arrogant. He is as unimpressed with himself as any man should be.
Mr. James is the youngest of his father’s seven children, of whom the oldest is six years younger than Shayfer’s mother. Go ahead, read that sentence as many times as you need to. I agree the math doesn’t work at first, but let it be said that Shayfer’s father was twenty years older than two of his three wives. Despite the various landscapes and plot lines of his youth, Shayfer claims his home was ‘never broken, it was just designed a bit differently’. ‘My father was an elephant, he left me a legacy of wisdom, creativity, and strength, what more could a man hope for in life? And what more could a woman look for in her man?’ With that, he smiles at me in a manner that makes me shiver, even after having seen it parade across his face thousands of times.
As for his songwriting; I love every breath, every pause and every word. Shayfer’s music is as disquieting as it is relaxing. His hands waltz, meander, and dart over the black and white keys in a way that is imperfect and unschooled. He is clumsy at times, but always aware of his clumsiness. He makes imperfection his companion, not his enemy. His voice, well, it is his and no one else’s, and in this writer’s opinion it is magnificent.
His live performances are intimate and cool. I say this because cool is a timeless word that describes so many things at once. Women swoon, and men listen intently (some men swoon of course, which is no less flattering to Shayfer). ‘I may have been gay in another life; I also may have been one of those fat men that jump into arctic water for fun. I would rather have been gay than an idiot. No offense of course to those polar bear men, and I apologize to gay men everywhere for using that as an example, I generally make no sense when I speak'. I laugh, and he watches me.
At this moment, Shayfer abruptly decides that our meeting is getting too lengthy and we should leave. I joke that I need more information and he says he’ll fax it to me. He signs the receipt in cat-scratch and cracks an inappropriate joke for the waitress. She smiles, I smack him, and we stand. He walks me to the car and opens the door for me. I blush and thank him. He walks around the car and sits down in the driver’s seat. He fumbles with a stack of CDs, kisses me and says ‘great meeting’.
He is Shayfer James. He is Brilliant. He is my husband.
-Lucy James
..
