Suzanne the plans they made put an end to you I woke up this morning, and I wrote down this song. I just can't remember who to send it to.
James Taylor; as learned by the author in miss Ann Roacha's 6th grade guitar class I've been thinking about miss Ann Roacha, my teacher at Scott's Valley Middle School, who was the sweetest, prettiest, most hip and sexy, slender and miniskirted teacher I ever saw in my life. Admittedly, most of my previous experience was SDA parochial school, but even so I know she was something special. Years later my Uncle Arnold, who lived in Scotts Valley many years, took guitar from her and still sorta just sighed over her, the way all men did. She was the cherry on a perfect existence - Scott's Valley, 1971. Nestled in at the base of the Santa Cruz mounains. Ann taught health as well, so she was my instructress in Sex ed. Drugs and Rock and Roll. Sigh indeed. I've been thinking about her, and that guitar class, because of a story I've been working on. A story I owe to a girl, a friend of my oldest daughter Em, who won it from me in a contest. I'll probably share it when it's done, because the contest was name the people in the photo on my face book page, and the people were RMP and Chris, posed on the motorcycle. The story starts with Miss Anne Rocha's guitar class; my mom interrupting me learning that song in our fourth week, with terrible news. Just yesterday morning, they let me know you were gone... But that's not ready yet. Today you'll hear about the usual subject this time of year, with a few surprising juxtapositions. The usual subject this time of year, is fire - our only nemesis in this here neck of the woods. You might hear about the threats people in California live under - floods, earthquakes, tsunami maybe. But the foothills of the Sierras are impervious to earthquake, riding as we do our 400 mile long, 20 mile wide, solid slab of granite surfboard, into the sunset. Tsunamis and floods are problems for the valley people and coast - dwellers at the bottom of our 1800 feet in the air. Tornadoes and Hurricanes happen elsewhere, and our only real fear is fire and only from July to October. There's one started yesterday, pretty close to the same place I saw one start last year. In the woody inaccessible areas below the bullards bar reservior, right behind my house. This year I'm not as worried about it, because the wind's wrong (nice! no smell of smoke) and it did something real unusual for this time of year - it rained. Just a bit, scattered drops, no more, but obviously we've got humidity in the air. The dry eastern wind which dessicated is gone for now. Lu and I have agreed to separate. That's a brand new development. Not with any hostility, nor with much sadness. We both think its a good idea, each of us for our own reasons, and many good ones we both share. We've discussed it in terms of our community situation and children. We're not interested in dating other people (oh god - shudders. As if any woman in the world could put up with me except Lu. And if they would, believe me, they ain't good enough for me. Sorta one of those groucho marx thingies.) We're interested in changing some patterns. And she's working at Josh's school all week, and our vehicle situation is dire, and it just makes sense for her to spend the night in town. Meanwhile, all the piles and piles of things that our house so desperately needs, don't get done unless I'm here to do them. And not even then. So I guess while I say there's no hostility, there's gonna be if I don't get this place in better shape. And I just don't seem to be much motivated when she's here all the time, seeing to the things that need to be done, being her sweet, loving self and its like, I'm perfectly happy so why make any effort? So anyway, that's that. I've had Josh all weekend, just him and me. We get to have the house to ourselves apart from feminine domination in 9 years for him, 20 for me. So the longing for my wife, and and relief from disapprobation are opposing forces in my heart. Fire and rain. It fits the mood of the moment. I've seen fire, and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days, that I thought would never end. I've seen lonely times, when I could not find a friend. But I know that I will see her, be with her again. Moq_Discuss mailing list Listinfo, Unsubscribing etc. http://lists.moqtalk.org/listinfo.cgi/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org Archives: http://lists.moqtalk.org/pipermail/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org/ http://moq.org/md/archives.html
