Yesterday morning, I said one of the most ironic things I've said in ages.
"Kids, that's not a toy!"
I was refering to my vintage Casio MT-36. A child's toy keyboard that I have used on some of my favorite Lo-Fi songs like "Memphis Blue" or the organ coda to "No Answer." Anyway, Abi and Sam were messing with it, and I jumped up and said "No, that's not a toy!" But it IS.
Lastnight, we were at the lake house of a friend of our in Culver Indiana. Lake Maxincuckee. As the party was winding down, I decided to indulge in one of my favorite pasttimes, namely, nightswimming. I walked to the end of the dock and said "Micheal, cue piano." Of course I was referring to the R.E.M. classic "Nightswimming" which forms the penultimate moment to their 1992 masterpiece, Automatic for the People. The song is a gorgeous work of nostalgia about being young and with friends going swimming at night. When I first heard the song, I was 16. I had not snuck out into any parks or farms and went nightswimming with friends. So when I heard the song, it made me very jelaous for the kind of life where I could.
However, on my first saturday night in college, I went with a girl named Sarah and her older brothers friend's to a resevoir near Huntington to go swimming and stuff. They built a fire and for a while we sat around and talked. All the guys went swimming, in underwear or less. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I would have been first in the water, however my desire to be by this cool girl I met the day before kept me on the sand. On the way home she said she wanted to sing with me at the campus coffee house. I thought I'd better get better at guitar first. We never did, infact, within weeks we rarely spoke. I saw her again five years later, she was married and had a son. There were other subsequent night swimming trips during my days at IWU, but I won't go into them here.
ANYWAY, I jumped into the water, which felt warm compared to the air. It actually made my feet feel warmer. I swam about 200/300 yards up the shore, just outside of the docks. I put my head in and listened to the lake. It sounded big, and I felt small and a little afraid. But I enjoy courting that danger. At the last house before a public access site, I swam up and climbed into their yard. Lights were on, but blinds were closed. I ran through their velvety grass and hurdled their fence. I ran up the street - ouch, ouch - dripping and snuck up on every body. I like me.
On the far north shore of the Lake Maxincuckee, lies Culver Military Academy. An long established college prepatory military style school for boys (until the 80s, now there are two paralell academies.) It is where my grandfather Peck went to High School in the early 40s. When I was 10 or 12 he gave me some of his chevrons and badges and I really wanted to go to school there. It looked so cool. Huge brick buildings, hard wood floors, on a lake. When I was a freshman, we had a cross country meet there. I fell in love. It was my Rushmore, Max. Later that year at the Culver wrestling tournament, at which I was - NO JOKE - an alternate, I explored their building and ignored a lot "no tresspassing sings" ( I wrestled 103. If I was a 112 it would have made the coincidence much sweeter, eh? My older brother Jon was a 112, and not an alternate but actually a real kick teeth animal. I think he got 2nd that day. Alas, I never did go to Rushm, er uh, Culver, but I did make quite the go of it over at Grover Cle, er ehh James Whitcomb Riley.
A little before my night swimming, elizabeth took one last ride on the speed boat. She looked so happy, so in her element...and it didn't depend on me. It was so freeing to know that I don't have to be/ am not the source of all her happiness. I felt a surge of peace and freedom. It was a moment.
Today, I was roofing the shed I'm building and listening to a mix tape I made for Elizabeth at the height of our infatuation - 19yrs old. The next to last song was Willie Nelson's "You were always on my mind." I put that there because I knew she loved country and it was the only country artist I recognized in the record collection of my pastor, whose house I was sitting at the time. She loved the tape, and sang along with Willie. I knew I had made a good choice, but at the time I knew as much about country music as a dog knows about air hockey. (unless I am refering to the fourth, but canned, installment of the Disney "AirBud" series. In which, Bud saves the reputation of his nerdy, new kid at middle school, owner Brad by winning an air hockey tournament. It would have been cinematic mastery, had it been made, had it been made - kevin grumbles!) D. knows how effing heavy air hockey tables are cos we used to throw them around at Dunhams.
I digress.
On the way to Louisville on our tour last week, somehow the topic of songs that girls really like came up. Oh I remember, it was on our way to cincy. We were listening to Bob Marley - No Woman No Cry. I pointed out the irony (coming full circle...see, I know what I'm doing, just like Air Bud.)...again, I pointed out the Irony how girls LOVE this song. But its about Marley being nostalgic for the single life - like I don't need a woman. But we worked out that perhaps girls listen to the 'vibe' the 'feel' of a song more than men. (I know this is very stereo typical:(...) Guys, maybe, take songs literally more often them women, who knows. We drove on for a second, Monroe broke the silence and said, "Girls also Love Willie Nelson's 'You were always on my mind.'" I could not disagree based on my own life experience.
One of the joys of marrying someone is that you inheirit all the mix tapes you made for them. If you break up with them, how can you hope to relive the genius of your track listings - the careful segues- the hidden meanings, the clinchers..and so on...you can't. And I'm fairly vain, so from time to time I listen with an inflated sense of pride the mixes I've made for elizabeth over the years. Saying little, but in my head thinking (Ooh, good move, Adamson). So when I gave the mixes, I let them go, but they came back to me.
"If you love something, let it go, if it's meant to be, it'll come back to you." That's what Barry said when we tried to play tennis today. We rode our bikes there. There was a lot of wit floating around. One cigarette involved. It felt like another Wes moment.
I love tea! Espically Pickwick klepto'd from Hamptone Cincy Eastgate...:)