All the names are changed to protect the innocent.
The plane was full. These days, this is always the case.
We took off from Austin. It was hot. Of course it was.
Couple of hours later we landed in Orlando. Disney World is there and it's apparent; you can't swing a dead roadrunner without hitting some sort of cartoon figure.
A short six hours later we landed at Logan in Boston. Not a new airport. Grey walls, grey air and dirty windows.
Half hour later, i was sitting in the front seat of my son's car. God it was nice to see him. Too too long. Too long. He looked great.
Another half hour later we are sitting in his kitchen. I'm drinking the one beer that was in the fridge and the three of us are chatting. His favorite girl is making a dinner of tofu and beans and greens and garlic and quinoa. It was 11:30 PM. They eat late apparently. It was good to see her. She looked good too. Maybe we all looked good.
It was the first of many late nights. I got to bed after 2 but slept better than i do at home. Go figure.
Next morning Z drove me over to Brighton Ave to pick up my rental car: a 2009 PT Cruiser...with no cruise control. Go figure.
I love to drive and the day was spectacular, one of those clear crisp early Fall days you get up in the Northeast, just before it gets cold and everything goes to shit.
The first person i meet on this trip turns out to be an old gnarled-hand farmer somewhere between Albany and Cazenovia on old Route 20 west. I got off the thruway because that's what i do: i explore new things.
A roadside sign talking about farm fruits and vegetables caught my eye. and although i passed it one way, i decided to break with tradition and turn around and go back. I was glad i did.
He was just coming in from the fields when i pulled in the U-shaped gravel driveway in front of his ramshackle farm house. the place was a mess. peeling paint, sagging foundation, bulging walls.
He looked to be about 65, his tan face showed the deep furrows of an 80-year-old. he spoke with an even tone, and he smiled readily.
but it was his hands that struck me. workingman hands. dark, shrunken skin belying their massive size. dirty. real dirty hands, fingernails chipped, black under the leading edges. grease on his sleeves.
his teeth were brown and pointy. i think he used to have more of them as there were gaps between the ones that showed when he smiled.
i bought some of his apples (which turned out to be crisp and tart empires) and some of his grape tomatoes (which i snacked on for the next 800 miles or so)
Neither of these he actually grew himself. He confessed that he buys them somewhere else. Yep.
Next person up on my little voyage upstate was my brother. he's my older brother but just barely; he's one year ahead of me, chronologically that is. In other ways, he's miles in front. He's very driven and very successful in the business world. More power to him. He's a nice guy dedicated to making good.
I didn't see him for very long, just a few hours while watching a television show about the guy who is really smart yet very physically fucked. Poor guy. Not really poor though. Very rich in many ways other than physical. I bet he's a great guy too, in addition to being touted as the smartest astrophysicist in the world. Man he's a challenge to look at though.
Anyway, my bro and i talked some talk and then hit the hay, me to my second garret above the garage, he to his front bedroom where his best girl was already snoring. She wasn't up when i got there at 9 although i think i heard her banging around back there from time to time. They get up so early.
So i got up next day and took off for ithaca. i went to my friend's place and we spoke of elemental psychological emotional spiritual things. Our usual. It was good, it always is. he hadn't been at all communicative despite my best email and phone efforts so i made sure to let him know i wasn't pleased. i just asked him how is job was going. had he received any of my emails or phone calls. his responses and mild admittance of culpability satisfied me and we moved on.
I asked him how he spends his days. He told me. I described my days and we moved on. I love talking to him. i wish we could do it more often. i invited him once again to austin. he won't come. for a hip committed to awareness-kind-of-man, he's pretty well set in his ways.
I went to Jim's. I found him outdoors reading and studying his Hellenistic Astrology. it was a warm day and i was gratified to find him clothed, albeit shirtless. we shared some very interesting conversation as always. very interesting.
he is convinced after hearing what i've been up to and after catching me up on his work situation and the kids etc., that i need to put more energy into recollecting feelings of joy that live in my soul.
Apparently in our souls there exists a warehouse full of all the feelings we've ever experienced. so my job is to recollect and collect again all the feelings of joy i can in my life. those times when everything was so positive and good and easy and happy and peaceful (a la Billy Pilgrim in Vonnegut's 'slaughterhouse five.'
The other thing i have to do is to ask the universe to show me my next 'right' place in the world. my next right thing, the next thing that is just right for my next step in the world.
he said that if i am experiencing success in music then i should by all means keep going in that direction.
so this felt right. this felt good and sensible and doable. we spent a few minutes in the house going over my chart in terms of his new Hellenistic Astrological viewpoint. He played through a few pieces on his beautiful Mason. he is an incredible pianist. amazing. he shared some techniques with me.
I asked him about fingering patterns for scales and tension in my arms and hands and whatnot. he explained that one of the first things he learned as a young piano student, was to immediately tuck his thumb under when his index finger was on the keyboard.
finger/thumb under.
finger/thumb under.
finger/thumb under.
so when i start playing again, i'll practice that.
He also described the difference between pushing down on the keys as opposed to pulling. you stroke the keys. that's another thing i'll pick up on when i start playing again.
it was getting late and i still had to go up to the storage unit to pick up my congas and make the drive to Syracuse so we said our goodbyes.
So i drove off in the breezy sunshine heading north. i decided to give my sneaker shopping a try so i stopped in to the Pyramid Mall. Good ole pyramid mall. Good ole Mall...came up short though. no problem. gosh it was a beautiful day.
next up...Dane. Damn what a long time it had been since last we were together. so long. so much had happened during that time. so much. i was interested to see what he looked like.
when i got there he was sleeping on the couch. anticlimax? a little. but it was fine. We had a little time till we needed to fetch Chris at the train station so we decided to take a walk.
we talked as we walked. his dog rita was on a leash until we got to the school playground. as we strolled on the damp grass we took turns answering each other's questions about our respective lives and the twists and turns they had taken during the 15 years since we were together.
he told me that he had given up on finding a companion. that he had been with many during the last 20 years but none stuck. i felt bad for him. but i totally understand the sentiment.
it takes just as much emotionally imbued thought to seek a relationship as it does to maintain one. the logistics alone is enough to be all right with staying in on Friday night despite the wretched feeling of being alone when no one else is.
life lived alone is an acquired taste for most of us. I found out i haven't the stomach for it. at least not now.
