Speak To Me -- Pink Floyd

4/25/12


So last night on the radio they played this song. And I couldn't stand it being followed by anything but the rest of the album, Dark Side of the Moon. So I put it on and was enjoying listening to it as a lay, achy and tired, on the couch.
And what do I hear?
Bella in the kitchen
Makin a mess for me
(Think Dinosaurs' Ethel Show music)

Are You In -- Incubus

So we've been discussing taking our first family vacation together, and in doing so I have been reminded of vacations past...

Once we went to St. Augustine, Florida, the oldest city in the country. We were headed to St. Petersburg, but Dad had always wanted to go and we were in for the ride.

We didn't mind reading our books and listening to music in the cool car, but on the day we went to see historical St. Augustine it was sweltering. When we arrived, we went on our own little tour around the place and stopped across from the old jail. There were benches there, and a few of us made ourselves as comfortable as possible with sweat dripping down our faces, necks, and backs. So there we sat in this absolutely-no-shade of a place and Dad whips out a cigarette and lights it up, leaning up against the wall beside one of the benches. Some random sitting nearby walks up to Dad and informs him that his cigarette smoke is bothering her. He blew one long stream in her direction before shuffling down the paved walk.

We headed in the direction of the old fort and some big gun or something, an laughed about it. I mean, we were outside!But cigarettes are one of those hot topics like money, politics, and religion (and apparently illegal immigrants!), so I will leave it at that.

In my mind, not having perfect recall, all those different vacations coalesce into a myriad of vacation memories.

Once we stopped in Savannah, GA on our way to our Florida vacation destination. The stop was inspired by Sarah, who had just read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. I remember Savannah being one of the most beautiful cities I'd ever seen with its large old homes and We visited the Bonaventure Cemetery there and marveled at the amazing angel statues that adorned the graves.


We had a lot of good vacations when we were younger, and quite a few good ones since we've grown and started our own families. I will never forget riding down the road with Mom behind the wheel and we were all wearing our shades while singing along to our favorite music. Just us girls in one car, and Daniel and Dad in the other.

I'll also never forget the night we drove nearly straight through to Florida, and while stopping for gas, someone shut my pinky finger in the door. And the door latched! A few hours later we stopped to sleep at a rest area for a while and I woke to the throbbing pain in my finger, which, in my sleep, I had rested my head on that hand. In the uncomfortable position I was in in the car, I tossed and turned, watching the sky lighten. I tried lowering the window to find relief from the muggy inside of the car, only to let in mosquitoes with the cooler, but not much less muggy air. After the pain from my finger went away, we had a good vacation.

I also remember the time that we arrived extra early in St. Petersburg and our room wouldn't be ready for at least a few hours. We stopped by the wharf at an Ihop to eat breakfast, but as soon as we all piled out of the car the stinky smell of fish overwhelmed us, and suddenly I didn't feel like eating breakfast. But we did anyway, and smelled the smell on the way back out to the car. I don't think anyone should put a restaurant near a wharf--or anywhere else that smells like dead fish.

When we were really young we went to Kiawah Island with our Aunt, Uncle, cousins and Grandma Roark. When we arrived, we went immediately to the beach and I began hopping in the shallow tidal pools until I went into one that wasn't so shallow. I don't really know what happened, whether it was super deep, or whether I just fell into it and it seemed so deep, but I remember being pulled up, soaking wet, into the cool evening air. I was wearing my favorite sweater.

At Kiawah Island our rental came with some bikes and Dad took me for a ride that I won't soon forget. We had one of those bikes that has the kid seat on the back. Dad put me in and off we went to ride on the beach. That day there were jellyfish washed up all over the beach. We (and by we I mean Dad) decided it would be fun to run over the jellyfish. The were squishy and made a little bump when we went over them. Sure, it was fun, until we hit one that wasn't as squishy as the others and we went down, hard. After all the crying I insisted that Dad not run over any more jelly fish for the rest of the ride.

Well, that's all for now, but there are many more vacation stories to tell...

So Whatcha Want -- Beastie Boys

Addison had this terrible meltdown today about the size of her cup. It reminded me of another instance in which I was dealing with her while she was being unruly. I had the radio on, and this song was on the radio.

I turned to Addison and said, "Whatcha whatcha want?" Throwing my hands up in exasperation as she continued to chant Mommy.

And now, I suppose, I've created a monster in doing so. I heard her tell Arabaella the other day, "whatcha whatcha want?" when she was being fussy.

And she says it to Nero, our giant puppy, as she wrestles all 58 pounds of him to the floor.

Well, at least she has good taste in music.

Nothing Man -- Pearl Jam

While I was making home-made muffins for the girls one day, I was thinking about the song Nothing Man.

Back in the day my sister Sarah and I shared a room. We liked to rock out to music, and some of our favorite music to listen to was Pearl Jam.

One day, while listening to Vitalogy, the door to our room part of the way open, Mom burst in and asked, "Is he saying 'muffin man,' because that's what it sounds like he's saying from out here."

"No, Mom, he's saying 'nothing man,'" we explained, as we laughed. It was kind of one of those things that you had to be there for, I suppose.

One day she came in while I was listening to Primus' The Return of Sathington Willoughby, and said that she liked that and what was it called? I didn't know the name of the song then, but explained that it was Primus.

Mom liked music. Except most of Led Zeppelin. She hated when Dad turned up the stereo and put on a Led Zeppelin album. I thought, at the time that, wHole Lotta Love was a good title for a blog post because listening to it and the Lemon Song pissed her off so much.

But I also know that Mom did like some Led Zeppelin--particularly IV; I think that she liked a lot more of Dad's music than she let on. Like Frank Zappa. Maybe It wasn't her favorite music, but she knew the words. She also liked Louis Armstrong's What a Wonderful World and Nights In White Satin by the Moody Blues, and Collective Soul, which she requested I make her a CD of a long time ago. Mom liked all kinds of music, really. And I'm glad that she did, because between her and Dad, we all like a variety of music.

Except country music. There's some country music that I can tolerate and some that I just absolutely cannot. And when we were youngsters Dad would turn on country music to get us out of the bed in the morning. It was annoying, but it was better than water in your ear.

Garden -- Pearl Jam

So yesterday, while we were visiting Dad, we took a walk down the road. It was fun, and really exciting for all of the kids. On our way Jessica wanted to dig up some wildflowers for her garden. Beside the road, in large patches, were giant clovers. I found two four-leaf clovers and one five-leaf clover. We lost one four-leaf clover on our way back, but the other two are pressed between the pages of my journal (Finally! Though in retrospect, I had to go home to find a four-leaf clover).

When we first arrived at Dad's house there was a Marlboro Light butt in the ashtray and a pink cup in the sink. I immediately thought, Dad's had a lady friend over! And promptly told Jamie, pointing out the evidence. But I was wrong. It was Jessica's lipsticked cigarette in the ashtray and a pink cup Dad had found in an old car. It was kind of funny because I immediately began to think, before reality caught up to me, he's had some woman here. And she's been smoking and drinking with Dad! Well, as you can imagine, I began to look for evidence of this mystery woman I had concocted. In the television room the books, pictures, and knick knacks had been moved around. The hole sculpture (see blog post wHole Lotta Love -- Led Zeppelin) was turned so that you couldn't even really tell what it was. The Waterford crystal candy dish and vase I had bought for Mom had been moved, and there was no candy in the dish. The books were all out of order, or so it seemed. Perhaps there were just different books that hadn't been before, which must have been the case, since all the books from the shelf in the bathroom were gone.

All of these things I worried over for a while, picking away, until I told Sarah of this mystery woman. She laughed and told me that it was just Dad moving shit around and cleaning. Well, that made sense. After all, why shouldn't he have the things in his house where he wants them? And later I would discover that my initial reaction to the cigarette and cup had created this false person in my mind. Some pretty woman running her hand along the Waterford crystal, fingers dancing over the spines of the books on the book shelf. Ready to snatch up these precious things and take them to the pawn shop.

My discussion with Sarah reassured me. She told me that Dad felt like it would have to be a very special person for him to waste his time and energy courting them. I guess that's a good thing and a bad thing. The good part is that he probably--if ever--won't get serious with some douchebag who just wants all his money. The bad part is that, by comparison, Mom is unbeatable. No one will ever be able to fill the void that Mom left, not for him, or for us. I like to think that there's some really nice lady out there that will come along and be a companion for Dad, but in my heart of hearts I know that Mom and Dad were meant for each other. They were meant to share this life together.

There are good people in the world. They often come and go too quickly, but the wake of their lives still reverberates through the lives of those they loved and inspired. It seems to be a lucky thing that we get to have those good souls like shooting stars through our lives. But it would be a miracle to find the love of your life twice in one lifetime.