The plumber said he’d be here by mid-morning, but it wasn’t looking good. I worked on a review for a new children’s book coming out next month. I watched some Dry Bar Comedy while I digested my breakfast. That is no longer a multi-tasking feature of my aging body.
Reflux. It’s best to let the food settle before I go off to do something else.
A few days ago, I ordered two CDs, one by the Isley Brothers, the other by Bill Withers. I came late to the party for those artists, listening to them for years without knowing anything about them. The CDs arrived this morning in my mailbox. I put on the Isley Brothers and immediately recognized half of the songs from my long lifetime. How could I have not owned them before?
CDs are cheap right now, because no one wants them. Everyone listens to their digital playlists, but how can you discover new music and B-side songs that way? You can’t.
I cleaned out a closet this morning. Yesterday, I cleaned out the pantry. That’s what you do on these late winter days when you are retired and are trying to keep up the Pandemic Purge. I am coming up on ten years in this house, when I first moved in with a daughter finishing high school and an old Dachshund.
The dog has gone to doggie heaven, and the daughter is now applying to grad school again with the end of the pandemic in sight. Her stuff fills the closet. I found artwork from all three kids, some to save, some to say good-bye to.
Ten years gives a gal perspective on everything. Why did I save that? Why didn’t I save the Disney VHS tapes, which are now worth big bucks? Mulan alone is worth $3500. At least that’s what an article I read online said.
I turned off the Isley Brothers and walked the dogs. Then the plumber appeared two hours late. He fixed the leak problem while I continued to clean.
I found a poem in a small notebook that I thought was blank and could be reused. It’s a melancholy poem and maybe an original. At any rate, it made me sad to read it, thinking that a child of mine felt that way. I am sure it was not intended for my eyes.
The plumber left. To get out of my funk from reading the heart-breaking poem, I sat down to write this while the Isely brothers carried on the concert from my living room.
Twist and Shout (before the Beatles recorded it)
That Lady (Who’s?)
It’s Your Thing
Love the One You’re With
Spill the Wine
And so on and so forth.
Bill Withers is next.
Ain’t No Sunshine
Lean on Me
Just the Two of Us
Memories can be wonderful, or they can be devastating. I have moved on from ten years ago. I hope my kids have, too.