I know.
I know.
It was as inevitable as, well, as the change of seasons.
It WAS the Change of Seasons!
It happened again. Right on time. The Autumnal Equinox.
Not the happiest of times around the old household. Susan and I are Summer People. We each have our birthday in the Summer. We love opening windows and neither of us are overly fond of air conditioning. We're glad to have it when it's needed but we find ourselves needing it less and less as we go along. We're outside, being active and loving every minute of it.
So now the nights are longer than the days.
And the windows will stay mostly closed until sometime next April.
This past Saturday was the first Saturday of Fall.
We woke up late, took our sweet time getting out of bed. Then after getting dressed, we walked, didn't drive, to the local Fire Station. Why walk to the local Fire Station on the first Saturday of Fall?
Two words...Free Pancakes.
Add four more words...All You Can Eat.
Whoa.
Not too much to dislike about that! That's worth getting out of bed and walking a half mile for.
We got there at a good time. The line was short-ish. Got to greet the Fire Chief and an EMT.
Got to eat a plateful of freshly made pancakes, a biscuit and gravy, some sausage. A couple cups of coffee.
Yeah, we weren't counting calories but we were OK with that. How often does one get a chance to eat free comfort food in a fire station? We weren't going to pass on that chance.
We grabbed our second cup of coffee and headed for a walk through our little town. Crossed the railroad tracks, strolled through the "downtown" and stopped at a bench in the small park just past the gas station. It's a nice enough park. Doesn't get enough use and I'm not sure why. It's got a gazebo large enough to hold a number of people. It's grassy areas are fairly well tended. Big trees. Plenty of shrubbery and flowers. And a creek!
The sun was shining on and off, there were a good number of clouds around. The temperature was holding in the upper fifties but there was no breeze to speak of. We were comfortable, we were sitting in a pretty park, we were sipping a cup of coffee.
SPOILER ALERT!
Listen - if you think I'm going to write about how everything was all rosy and then, BLAMM-O, the roof caved in and smiles turned to frowns and what should have been a great day turned into a rotten one. Forget it. Not going to happen. Sorry.
After the coffee in the park we continued our walk through our town, through some neighborhoods we normally drive past without more than a glance up and down the street. And we were surprised at the things we saw. Houses big and small, new and old. We went over a couple of hills and ended up at the end of a dead end street. Turned around and re-traced our steps. The neighborhood changed from suburban sprawl to a deep woods in a matter of less than a half mile. By the time we were at the bottom of the hill and turning around at the dead end, we could have been in any woods in any number of places but certainly not mere steps from our cute little park, gas station, library and fire station. We stopped and heard birds chirping, something scurrying in the underbrush and nothing else but our own breathing.
We had left our home an hour earlier looking for pancakes and found ourselves a little bit of unexpected solitude.
Nice.
We made our way back home, got into our car and went out to get some mums for our front porch planters. Found some beauties and planted them immediately.
It wasn't even noon and we were already finding a cure for our end of summer blues.
On the first Saturday of Fall.
Last night Susan and I went to Ravinia to see a concert. John Hiatt and the Combo were the headliners and Big Head Todd and The Monsters were the opening act. It was the last show of the Ravinia season. It was 9/11. It was a lot of things to a lot of people. It was the first time we had seen BHTATM and we were pleased! BHT put on a fine show featuring plenty of guitartistry (new word - just made it up. i like it!), good for the ears vocals, interesting songs and BHTodd never stopped smiling and enjoying himself. It was a great way to start off the last night.
The not-so-excellent element of being at Ravinia for the last night of the season was the limited selection of premium beers and ice cream! They were obviously using up the balance of their seasonal stock in both cases. I've never paid 7 bucks for a Coors Light before. I paid 7 bucks for one last night, though. There wasn't a Heineken or Amstel Light on the premises and I needed a cold beer and needed it quick. So I swallowed my pride and then I swallowed a 7 dollar Coors Light.
Never again, I told myself. Never again will I subject myself to a second rate taste just because some bottom line front office type decided to not supply enough of the top of the line item in order to save on some re-stocking charge.
Then we went to the ice cream concession stand. I wanted a mint chocolate chip cone. It's only the best flavored ice cream. Susan was looking forward to her cookie's n cream cone. Her favorite. My Number Two. We got in line. Noticed that half the serving area was shut down. Only three kids working the counter. Uh oh. Got to the front and found out, no premium ice cream. No mint chocolate chip. No cookies n cream. Vanilla. Chocolate. Strawberry. And something called Cappuccino Crunch. My five minute old vow to turn my back on second rate? Dang it! Give me a chocolate cone. Susan got a Cappuccino Crunch. The Coors Lights of the ice cream world.
End of the season. End of the food and drink stock.
The sun set. The stage lights came on. The opening act performed and pleased. A short break then, John Hiatt and The Combo took center stage.
I've seen John H. on stage many times since the first time I saw him in the late summer of 1990. Seen him with Sonny Landreth and The Goners. Seen him solo with just his acoustic and a piano. Seen him with this current band, The Combo, in what is now it's second incarnation. Seen him in the defunct Poplar Creek Theater (moment of silence, please, for the long gone and still sorely missed venue). Seen him at the legendary Birchmere club in Alexandria, Virginia. Seen him in a big top on the shores of Lake Superior a half day's drive from...anywhere. Seen him on the main stage of the Cayamo cruise in the Caribbean. Twice! Still the best vacation EVER. And we've said that same thing, each of the three times we've gone.
I've met him and shaken his hand three or four times. He's signed my ballcap. He's taken his picture with us.
I've been a huge fan for well over 20 years so anything I say about his performance is completely and unabashedly biased. The man's been a part of my life through low points and high. I give full credit to his Slow Turning record as one of the things that helped me recover from acute depression many years ago and helped me to remember the important things in my young life. Reminded me to see the big picture. I understood - things may seem bad now but don't judge those things in their current state. Let them unravel and reveal their complete selves. The revelations will no doubt take a while to show themselves completely. What I was seeing was just a part of the entire process. And that revelation process would only start from inside me before working it's way out.
Those words, those thoughts were life altering. I've since talked to other people who have had similar experiences with the same music. I know those words of comfort could be found in any number of sources. Books. Lecturers. Family. Friends. Teachers. Ministers. Mine happened to show through a remarkable combination of words and music of a singer/songwriter from Indianapolis/Nashville accompanied by the guitar licks of Mr. Sonny Landreth, from Breaux Bridge, Louisiana.
And whatever it was that hit me way back when, it's stuck with me through the years. So every time I get the chance to see John H. play, in whatever configuration, in whatever locale, I'll go back, enjoy the music and remind myself of the important things in my life.
It never fails to amaze and fulfill.
Last night was no exception.
Even from the last row. On the last night. "Suffering" through that last beer and last ice cream.
Knowing as I do that summer doesn't always end when schools open or when pools close or when Labor Days are celebrated or when calendars insist, last night had a sense of closure to it.
The end of things as I've known them is coming. The end of the line is at hand. The Doctor is past healing or being healed.
But when John H. ended his show with a heart- and gut-wrenching version of his song about the 9/11 catastrophes, When New York Had Her Heart Broke, and followed it up with his classic, Have a Little Faith In Me, there was no place I'd rather be. No one but my lovely wife I'd rather be with.
Ends are beginnings. Beginnings are ends. A friend reminded me of that this weekend.
It's just a Slow Turning...
These are a couple of pics from my boat ride commute Wednesday morning.
Say it with me - boat. ride. commute.
There are all sorts of methods people use for getting to their jobs day in and day out.
Walking. Driving. Trains. Buses.
I take a train from my home in the 'burbs to the station downtown. Nothing unusual about that. Thousands of commuters do the same. It's an excellent way to make the 35 mile trip. No traffic jams. No road construction. No one driving like a maniac, passing me when there is clearly no room for them to squeeze between already speeding lines of traffic. No one driving too slowly in the passing lane, causing me to step on the gas, accelerate into the adjacent lane and swerve around the offender, giving them a nasty look as I pass and squeeze myself back into the fast moving lane.
The train gets me downtown reliably. Every day. Once in a while, there are delays and people love to moan and groan about the delays. But overall, train-ing beats driving, hands down. I can sit back, close my eyes, listen to my music (properly, non-intrusively through my earbuds), check my e-mails on my iPhone, sip a cup of coffee.
After I get to the station downtown, I have a couple of options for going the last mile and a half to the office.
Walk or bus or boat.
Most people opt to walk.
A lot choose a bus.
And, a very few of us walk a block to the far end of the train station, exit through a revolving door, cross a sidewalk, enter a covered doorway, down a metal stairway, down to a dark, basement-like, waiting area. At the far end of the waiting area is a door and through that door is a short walkway that leads to the Water Taxi. A taxicab-yellow-with-black-trim boat.
A boat!
There are cushioned seats inside the cabin with enough space to seat about 40 people. There are seats in front that are outside, open to the elements. And there are a few seats in the back, again, outside and open.
My choice seat, weather permitting, is a seat in the back. I find a seat where I can lean my back against the back wall of the cabin, prop my backpack next to me and for the minimal charge of a buck-sixty, with the purchase of a ten ride pass, I let the boat take me down the river for a ten minute mini-vacation.
The river goes past amazing buildings, under a series of bridges, past some mild attempts to bring food, drink and entertainment to the river's edge and drops me off two short blocks from the office.
It's a boat!
It glides though the water for ten delicious minutes.
And on some days, the sun is out, the sky is blue. It's beautiful...
