January 01, 2006

10:41 p.m.

Tying Knots in Strings

More to say than I feel like writing. I'm content. We had a lovely gig in Northampton yesterday afternoon, and I made the long, slow, slippery drive to Rose's house afterwards, in time for a late, at least eight course tapas dinner. There were three guests besides me, and then Rose and Mike, and we laughed and danced in the kitchen to "Here Comes the Sun" and sang into wooden spoons and whisks. Rose's friend Ayn, whom I've seen once or twice at these occasions before, regaled us with hilarious stories of her trip to Hawaii. She's just retired from the police force but isn't really at retirement age, so she's keeping open to other possibilities. She's also a detective, but is nearly certified as a wildlife rehabilitator so might also go that route. It was the first time I really got to know her a little, and I'd like to call her my friend. She told me she listens to my albums all the time and feels we're kindred spirits. She's a strong, grounded woman with a great sense of humor (and timing!).

Rose's friend Sandra is in a rather whirlwind romance which is causing everyone else some concern. From what I gather she's never even been involved with anyone before, and she's in her 40s. (Long story there.) But this is someone she's known on a sort of casual, professional basis for about a year and a half (he's a doctor, she's a nurse), and suddenly after 6 weeks of dating they're engaged. He's odd socially in some ways, and it's wigging us all out a bit. Plus some of his statements don't always seem to add up (info about himself), so we're watching the red flags wave while Sandra reels in what she perceives as her only chance. She knows Rose and Mike would like her to be cautious (and the wedding isn't set until a year and a half from now, though they're booking it tomorrow), but all she really wants is to be in love and nesting.

Everyone has to make their own path, mistakes or otherwise. I certainly have.

Meanwhile, I have this new boom box (FINALLY found one that wasn't entirely spherical) that plays tapes as well as CDs. I haven't been able to play my tapes in several years. So I found a tape that my juggler boyfriend from 1984 made for me, a dub of some Dougie MacLean songs, and on the other side was a tape-letter he'd made for me when he was working his ventriloquist show on the walking street in Copenhagen and I was in the states. I believe I'd already been out there to visit him at that point and he stayed on a few more weeks to make a pile of money from tourists. I didn't even remember I had this tape from him, and it was such a journey. I could hear why I eventually broke up with him, how it was very hard to have a normal conversation without getting all the character voices and the playacting, and how I felt I couldn't really connect ultimately. He was fixated on building his show and writing jokes; I needed to self actualize as a musician and writer, and he didn't really have room to embrace that. I also heard, in my mind, how I didn't have the skills to discuss these barriers and try to work out a way for us to listen to each other more, and maybe meet in the middle. I was too young then to know. I was 25 then, he was maybe 23. I was still chasing magic.

But he was beautiful to me; I fell in love with him hard and deeply and it was fraught with fear and sorrow. He worked summers in Denmark, and had had a girlfriend there whom he had married so his visa wouldn't expire. But they were on the rocks, and then I came along. That year they got separated and divorced, but along the way it was horrible for me. I didn't have the self possession to say, "This is how I need it to be if we're to be together; make a decision, take it or leave it," so I just cried a lot. He hadn't wanted me to come to Denmark with him, lest I run into Edith. So we met in London and travelled aimlessly around England for a week or so. When I finally decided we'd go our separate ways on the European trip, he relented and asked me to come to Copenhagen with him after all. We stayed there 3 weeks and had a good time, and I never met Edith. Then it was time for me to go home. We were in love then. He made me laugh so much.

Once back in the states, we moved for a very short time to San Antonio for reasons too boring to note here. Then we moved back to NYC, into an apt. with his juggling partner, partner's girlfriend, girlfriend's daughter, an adopted dog and a cat. It was going to be this blissful communal place where everyone got along. I hated it almost immediately; the other roommates were total slobs and we stayed in our room most of the time. The section of Brooklyn we lived in was supposed to be up and coming; one night someone got shot near our apartment. I became frustrated with him and needed something more grounded, more adult. We parted something like a year and a half after we joined up.

I hope it's okay with him now.

Anyway, the found tape brought all that back. There were things I treasured about my time with the juggler. Also he was the best ventriloquist I've ever seen. And Rose and I still refer to jokes he invented.

I probably mentioned recently here that I had a little email communication with him recently. Synchronous that I found that tape on the heels of that exchange.

It was twenty years ago.

********

Anyway, I had a lovely visit to the yarn store in Northampton before the gig. I'd come about an hour early to make that stop, and while I was in the checkout line, Carol called to say that they were stuck in traffic on I-91 because of some spinouts. Within the hour that I'd been yarn shopping it had begun to snow and the highway was now a sheet of ice.

They made the church on time, however, and I didn't have to play a solo set. The audiences were sweet and the church was beautiful. The whole front wall was a big, many-paned window, and we looked out at Main Street as it got dark and all the lights came on outside. There was a huge Christmas tree in the window which was lighted for the 2nd set, and it was very sparkly indeed. At 6:00 we were packed up and the early fireworks started, so we went out to the front sidewalk to watch for a few minutes as the wet snow dappled our coats.

Then the food and celebration at Rose's, and the wiggy concern about Sandra and her beau, and I sang for them on request, talked and laughed for hours, and very much trashed my half-healed, bronchially challenged voice. I awoke this morning very scratchy and coughing a lot. But we went to Sandra's New Year's brunch anyway, and by now I feel I've gained some ground back.

The three cats were fetching and delightful at all times, and we kept them pumped up with Friskies snacks ("junk food for cats!") and catnip, especially today when trimming all their toenails. One of the dogs (the wild one) got into a new, large skein of yarn and turned it into a nest of spaghetti, and Rose and I spent about 45 minutes untangling it before we went to the brunch. It was saved. I did two loads of laundry, picked up a package that had come for me, and went home today on roads that were clear and wet.

I'm being told that things are still closed tomorrow. Rose wanted to go to N'hampton to yarn shop, and I wouldn't say no, but I'll have to call in the morning to see if they're open. Either way I'll be happy.

Listening to tapes. Knitting up my life, pulling all the stitches forward. Or, as bindyree put it, "tying knots in strings with sticks." I like that.