Whenever, Wherever
Last night I drove to Vermont. Vermont is another world, you know as soon as you cross the border that something has shifted.
If you're heading to Jado's birthday party, you'll want to turn left at the General Store. Head up the hill for four miles. Turn right on South Valley road. You'll see some hills and cows. After about a mile, you'll see some balloons tied to a tree. Follow them down another dirt road, named after the brook. Park anywhere you like - on the road, in the field, you can't get much further unless you brought your bike, or some sturdy shoes.
Bring some tasty pot luck item. And a cooler with ice if you want to keep your beverages cold. Every so often they run the generator to fill up the tank, so they can have running water in the kitchen sink. That's cause there's no electricity, but they do have a telephone line. If you want to use your cell, you might get a bar if you drive back to the main road and wave it around in the air. Bathroom's out back, past the firepit.
Last time I went to Jado's birthday party, he was two. Now he's four. He's aging exponentially! It must be all that fresh air. I wonder what it's like to live without all the constant bombardment of mechanical electrical fields.
The thing I'm noticing at this party is how different people's ways are of engaging with friends and strangers. Will parents talk to their kid's friends, or do they start with so many assumptions that there's not much left to talk about after the introductions? Why does my friend's new partner shy away from me? I want to know her, to find out all about her, to drink in her delightful presence, to sense the pleasure of my good friend's newfound love, but she acts like I don't exist. Why does Jado's mom act like she doesn't know me? The last few times I saw her we had a pleasant dinner together, she asked me to call her. Do they think their boyfriends will be jealous? What's that about? This man they love will punish them somehow for opening up to anyone but himself? Maybe it's fear of losing something that they hold more dearly than random friendship. Do they not trust me, or do they not trust themselves? Will I break their hearts in a simple conversation? Will I take them out behind the woodshed and wrestle them down?
Folks in Vermont keep their guitars close at hand. Even though there may not be much to talk about, dad's layin down some real fine Neil Young tracks over coffeehouse coworker's chords. The Israeli couscous is the potluck flava sensation. The Long Trail blueberry wheat beer tastes really good - I'm glad I didn't read the label. The unlabeled 22 oz bottles looked mysteriously alluring: new boyfriend works at the brewery in town, where they make some strange and powerful nectar. Dreadlock friend pulls a bag of Mother herb from his overalls.
I liked the neighbors. Their little cabin is nowhere to be seen. They're substitute teachers, so there's no work this summer. But they live simply. Entertainment is working in the garden or hiking up to the pond to watch the beavers and blue herons. She wasn't afraid to talk to me, she was all sweetness and smiles. He didn't seem jealous at all. They're moving to Montana soon, I'll probably never see them again.
Montana people didn't run for shelter when raindrops fell from the sky. Then a rainbow appeared over Jado's pile of presents. He got a new bike with some very cool spaceship blueish headlights and red tail lights. He also got a sword that does alot more for you than your cell phone when you wave it around in the air - it makes big bubbles.
If you're heading to Jado's birthday party, you'll want to turn left at the General Store. Head up the hill for four miles. Turn right on South Valley road. You'll see some hills and cows. After about a mile, you'll see some balloons tied to a tree. Follow them down another dirt road, named after the brook. Park anywhere you like - on the road, in the field, you can't get much further unless you brought your bike, or some sturdy shoes.
Bring some tasty pot luck item. And a cooler with ice if you want to keep your beverages cold. Every so often they run the generator to fill up the tank, so they can have running water in the kitchen sink. That's cause there's no electricity, but they do have a telephone line. If you want to use your cell, you might get a bar if you drive back to the main road and wave it around in the air. Bathroom's out back, past the firepit.
Last time I went to Jado's birthday party, he was two. Now he's four. He's aging exponentially! It must be all that fresh air. I wonder what it's like to live without all the constant bombardment of mechanical electrical fields.
The thing I'm noticing at this party is how different people's ways are of engaging with friends and strangers. Will parents talk to their kid's friends, or do they start with so many assumptions that there's not much left to talk about after the introductions? Why does my friend's new partner shy away from me? I want to know her, to find out all about her, to drink in her delightful presence, to sense the pleasure of my good friend's newfound love, but she acts like I don't exist. Why does Jado's mom act like she doesn't know me? The last few times I saw her we had a pleasant dinner together, she asked me to call her. Do they think their boyfriends will be jealous? What's that about? This man they love will punish them somehow for opening up to anyone but himself? Maybe it's fear of losing something that they hold more dearly than random friendship. Do they not trust me, or do they not trust themselves? Will I break their hearts in a simple conversation? Will I take them out behind the woodshed and wrestle them down?
Folks in Vermont keep their guitars close at hand. Even though there may not be much to talk about, dad's layin down some real fine Neil Young tracks over coffeehouse coworker's chords. The Israeli couscous is the potluck flava sensation. The Long Trail blueberry wheat beer tastes really good - I'm glad I didn't read the label. The unlabeled 22 oz bottles looked mysteriously alluring: new boyfriend works at the brewery in town, where they make some strange and powerful nectar. Dreadlock friend pulls a bag of Mother herb from his overalls.
I liked the neighbors. Their little cabin is nowhere to be seen. They're substitute teachers, so there's no work this summer. But they live simply. Entertainment is working in the garden or hiking up to the pond to watch the beavers and blue herons. She wasn't afraid to talk to me, she was all sweetness and smiles. He didn't seem jealous at all. They're moving to Montana soon, I'll probably never see them again.
Montana people didn't run for shelter when raindrops fell from the sky. Then a rainbow appeared over Jado's pile of presents. He got a new bike with some very cool spaceship blueish headlights and red tail lights. He also got a sword that does alot more for you than your cell phone when you wave it around in the air - it makes big bubbles.
I'm going' back to my house
But I'm not goin' now
It's too early to be leaving here, somehow
Let me bore you with this story
"How my lover let me down"
While I borrow seeds of sadness
From the ground.
- Neil Young
posted by Neal at 7:58 AM EST
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