Men in My Life

It was a good night.

The men in my life made it so... not perhaps in the wild wonderful ways some have it, but, in good ways, that mean a great deal to me.

Long email conversations with the Oddship, the usual semi-understanding of text read in the voice of the receiver, still not fully settled, yet, always enjoyed, occurred. This is a relationship that remains, well, odd. Once a huge focus in my life, we've moved to be friends of sorts, not seeing each other very often, yet email is our best and worst tool in this oddship, both of us working in text, neither of us very good at understanding it's nuances on a personal level.

I left home to go have dinner with Zenmaster.... my child who isn't my child who taught me that children are a good thing.

On the way, I encountered an interesting family. They live in Norway, he is Castilian by birth...she is Norwegian, they have a son, Lars. On a visit to New York, Lars wanted to see all of the boroughs, so, they came to the Island. While here, they chose Old Town, because the name sounded, well, quaint. All they found, sadly, were a CVS store, some car dealerships, beautiful neighborhoods, and the Crown Royal Bakery, where they had lunch.

She told me in her perfect English, how she had been an exchange student in Boston in 1985. On the weekends, she and her friends would come to New York to visit, see the sights, catch a show at student rates. They loved to take the trains back when the trains were very scary, and go everywhere.... Brooklyn, Queens... and the Bronx, then the Bronx was burning.

She said some of the various idioms of English still escaped her then, as attested by the story she told me. While wandering around at a late hour, they came across a man who stopped them, and asked, "Do you want to buy some coke?"

"Oh, yes!", she cried, happy to see him on this hot night. "I'd love a diet one, please." There she was, blonde haired, blue eyed, Norwegian exchange student, offering up a dollar to buy a diet Coke.

Sometimes, naiveté saves your ass.

He shook his head at her and her two friends, took her by the arm and led her to a train station.

"Baby, get on this train and go downtown, and stay there."

She laughed telling me the story. "How silly I was! I actually thought he had a cooler with Coke in it!"

We parted company at the Ferry, me with the knowledge that the Castilian accent is from one of the Queens who lisped, and her happy to have told this to someone.

Zenmaster took me to a dive bar where we had fish and chips, and I taunted the Investment with my whereabouts. I received this text: "H8 you"

Ah, the love!

He then sent Zen a text saying he should have canceled the meal, as I wasn't worthy... ha!

We chatted and ate and he paid (he's a good son) and then left to go to his piano rehearsal hall, so I could listen as he spent his hour a night rehearsing.

He just started lessons last year.... I'm very proud of him. I read while he filled the big room with Chopin and Bach and Schubert and Beethoven and waltzes, my loved Paul Simon.... he played Bach's Toccata in D Minor.

Woot.

I am very, very proud of what he's accomplished. Once he plays something, it's set in his mind, and he's very comfortable with his music, it settles him, he said.

In his backpack was a gift from Jarhead, brought back from that place... something I can add to my other things from my blue eyed boy. I kept touching it as I sat on the Ferry, sipping my coffee in the cold, loving the John F Kennedy, and it's benches outside, that let you ride there if you want, come hell, high water or February winds.

On the train, I had a text from WeatherGuy.... "Look at the moon," he said.

Impossible on the train... too many lights, once I stepped off, I looked back...in time to see the eclipse starting. Off and on for two hours, I watched.... to see the shadow curve over, with the mild clouds, it was a haze that was silver around it...





then:

Red.

Every shade... scarlet and ruby and rose and garnet and brick and bloodorange and the colours that were on my roses that had a deep yellow heart with dark red on the tips.

It was so glorious, I cried.

The moon stayed shades of red, gradually washing out to it's silver by midnight.... a wonderful way to spend the time.

Emails. Bach. Eclipse of the moon.

Life is good indeed.





Our Neville Fact:

Our Neville once watched the eclipse of the sun. Irritated he couldn't see it with the special device he'd made up, he took a fast glance at the covered star that gives us life. He only had to have his eyes bandaged for a week, during that time, Margaret put his food at the hours of the clock, telling him his tea was at 1, his toad in the hole at 6, and his peas and carrots at 12. She did everything for him but hold his willy when he weed. He agreed to sit down as long as no one ever knew. Until now, they didn't.