The second...bluegrass tingles.

May as well begin with the beginning, no?

My younger life was somewhat transitory. It is only recently, as my brother pointed out one night in a rather pompous wine bar (redundant), that I realized when my parents said we were "going camping" it might well mean something else! The fact that I never noticed nor cared is a loving wave to my folks. But it must be admitted that we were fairly gypsy-ish. From this early lifestyle I gained a love for travel, a fear of settling down, a tendency to cut ties and a lack of responsibility. There were flush times and hard times...times when we were so broke other poor people were stealing food for us, and times when all seemed dandy. Again, as a kid, it's hard to relate....I was very intuitive in some ways, noticing every degree of fluctuation in my parents' emotional relationship, and yet not understanding the ramifications of having Spam for Thanksgiving.

We traveled from home to home...I have also gained a very selective memory. Part of the "cutting ties" bit, I think. I couldn't begin to describe most of the houses I lived in. There was one that had a late 60's motif in the bathroom with purple floral wallpaper and bright green shag carpeting....I remember the "haunted house" in Whitesboro, which deserves a blog entry all its own....the various terrible college apartments, but then we're past the beginning and into the middle.

I lived with my grandparents quite often, and now assume this was during times of separation between my parents, or when we simply could not afford to live elsewhere. I still have bad dreams about my grandparents' home, which is a shame. I loved that house, and remember it down to nearly every detail. Another segment that deserves its own telling.

But mainly what it comes down to is an early life that formed the later; a need to keep on the move, to feel slightly displaced, and to easily meet others and just as easily lose them again. It has been a marvel to me that many old friends have recently reinstated contact of a sort.

So now you have the building blocks, the Lincoln Log framework - and we can move forward.

Before I forget, here are two songs that I must have heard 5000 times as a kid. One terrified me as I lay at night under the covers while my parents were in the living room smoking pot with friends....the other remains a fond memory of many bluegrass concerts with the smell of cut grass and beer on the air, blankets on the ground and gnats hanging around our heads. They've stuck with me all these years and still send shivers up my spine. Perhaps no one else's...but mine.

"Country and Eastern Music" by Jerry Goodman and Jan Hammer

"Please Don't Bury Me" by John Prine