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My brother and Del are also visiting the Pittsburgh area and take us fishing.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Out of poles, though I’m satisfied to sit and document, Heather is any Boy Scout’s wet dream and grabs her self some line and a stick and promptly joins the hunt for fishes!OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Del cleans the fish and shortly thereafter we all learn why usually people don’t eat pond fish.
Though George catches one first, Del’s not far behind. Pica shows tooo much interest in all the flappitiness and has to be restrained!OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
I’m often reminded that maybe my brain doesn’t work quite the way a lot of other brains work. Different types of connections, different types of leaps. I don’t remember things the way other people do, perhaps. Of course, it’s so subjective it’s hard to tell, but other people seem to have such clear images of their past – items and quotes and faces that can be drawn up instantly. My head is such a muddled mess, tiny things leap into sharp relief after having been forgotten for years. Faces swim to the surface slowly and sometimes I can’t distinguish real memories from intense dreams, I forget words from only moments ago and gists of sentences shift swiftly through the filters of my empathy and mood.
Gregg Houston and Keren Lee playing at the Jozart Open Mic in California, PA.
| Tonight we’re finally entering Maryland. It’s the first time in almost 50 days and it seems even longer. It hasn’t been the longest tour ever but it’s been taxing. A lot of good things, a lot of extraneous circumstances. We return on my mom’s birthday, two days before the anniversary of my father’s death – and as we race homeward bound, the occasional streetlights are blotted out by the huge blotches of bird droppings on the windshield. They’re just abstract shapes, evidence of parking under a particularly inhabited tree during our time in Pittsburgh, but suddenly my mind is catapulted back to my time as a child, my brother and I washing the cars with my Dad. |
The beautiful and talented Kimberly Koast performing at the Underground – singing plaintive and honest and wonderfully.
Encore performing at the Underground at California University of Pennsylvania. He was awesome and stripey and loud.
Always the water is so cold, no matter how hot the sun – and often as not, with the chore-avoidance and procrastination that my brother and I so often exhibited – we frequently were washing the cars as the seasons changed. Not from spring to summer but from summer to fall and the water would be frigid and it’d be the last time we were using the hoses before shutting them off for the winter. But sometimes we were smart and the cold water was a sharp contrast to the sun that beat down. I’d try to get most of the mud and grime off the Jaguar by just hosing it hard, but eventually it’d come down to the sponges and I developed a particular aversion to the feel of sponge to skin. Such a strange fabric to skin coarseness that I absolutely revile.
Eileen Korn was our opening act ou first night back in Maryland at the Old Bowie Town Grill in Bowie, MD. It was so amazing to watch her play for more than just three songs – she’s an incredible performer.
Our first day back in Maryland was double-special because it was my mom’s birthday – so Bob, the owner of the Old Bowie Town Grill, did his best Elvis impersonation and sang her Happy Birthday!
Scraping at recalcitrant filth, it was a special pleasure to polish the chrome. I Loved the sound of the spray against the hubcaps – all the cars run into one another after a while – the chromed edging of the old AMC Hornet that got so hot in the sun with it’s plastic seats that stuck to your skin. or the rattling hollow sound of it’s hubcaps. the annoying spokes of the Austin Healey that required a rag run through every one of them. Oiling the convertible top, polishing the Pontiac, trying to reach the roof of the various family vans.. And I always hated it.
On the way up to scatter my father’s ashes back in Selinsgrove, PA – I stood in a dandelion patch and called some friends to remind myself how good my Life really was.
And I hope I didn’t gripe too much. I was never giving, I’m not giving now. I try and I try to shine for people, but that’s not something that’s easy to do for a parent. And so I’m thinking of the strange strains of advice that he tried to give – some of it simply not applicable, some of it rearing it’s head into usefulness at unlikely moments. I’m good with the hills of Pennsylvania, downshifting up hills and smoothly letting the engine take the brunt of the grades coming down from the mountains. I hear my father’s voice critiquing the way Heather’s driving and I silence him, knowing his place was in teaching me and parents are never kind to their kids while teaching them to drive stick. They’re not kind in a lot of ways. My father wasn’t really “kind” but he was mild-mannered and smart and good and that counts for an awful lot.
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I tried to do it in his final days, make sure he knew – but I wish I could shut my eyes and radiate a message of thankfulness to him here and there. Over stupid little things. I want him to know I saw an Austin Healey the other day and I want him to know that I still Love Pennsylvania best. I want him to know that I refuse to wash the damned car that he left me because I have faith that this clear, sunny weather won’t last TOO long. I want to play “Crazy As A Good Thing” for him and explain the lyrics, cause it’s not a bad thing. Just a difference of opinion, you know?
Second day home, second home gig. Georgie Jessup opening for us at Edith Mae’s Paradise house concert series.
sahffi performing at Edith Mae’s Paradise in Jessup, MD.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
A Lovely night outside in Jessup, MD – flaming torches and vampire clouds.
We’re finally scattering the ashes this weekend. It’ll be the last time in a long time that my brother and my mother and I all see one another. He and his wife move to France on Sunday. Such a strange thing to think. Perhaps this is a bit private for the Journal, but if immortality has any connection to how many people remember, perhaps it’s a good thing that I spread my little thoughts of Sanford Wayne Hinkal hither and tither to the strange winds of the internet.
Third day back, third gig. Playing with the Acacia Sears’ band at the Commons at MICA in Baltimore, MD. It was fun – because of the threat of rain, we set up in the gatehouse like it was our balcony stage and played to the masses…OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Acacia Sears rocking out at the Maryland Institute, College of Art in Baltimore City, MD.
And the masses, since rain didn’t actually COME, made chalk art – including some rabbits for my army.
As we played our last notes, the rain did eventually fall.
I’m thinking of tattoos, for obvious reasons. That sleeve includes a cuff of text – “Lead by Example”. It’s something I try and try and try to do. But I get angry and I get bitter and I get frustrated. I need the reminder because I’m not “kind” either unless I’m reminder and I’m sure as Hell not mild-mannered or good. Frankly, I could use reminders a mile down and up and down my arm again in 6 point text to keep my bad behaviour at bay.
It’s a clear night and we’re half way home. It’s supposed to rain sometime this weekend. I really am NOT going to wash the car, but I might scrub a bit in the storm.
