Tonight I rode the west wind fast so I could get to the parish Seder – Catholic version. Treasured memory because it’s what the Little Offshoot Community does in my hometown, too.
Fellow to my right when I found one of the few remaining seats in the Oscar Romero center is from St. Pat’s, and asks about what I’m studying at Parkland, given my Parkland jacket and sweatshirt. I work there, … are there a lot of foreigners? Lots of people, lots of countries, and I work with folks who haven’t seen a math book in a long time.
He went back to school himself when he was back from the service. And he got a ltitle too many slices of cake, he said, ’cause he had too much cholesterol. Yes, I said, there was some wine left (I didn’t take *all* of it ;)) … a bit of cleanup and he asks as I’m ready to roll if I know any other languages, well, a little… he says … well, he may have said it properly but I recognized usted and esposa and said no… and he said something about my ring that wasn’t quite on the correct finger.
Yea, I have a ring that’s not quite on the correct finger. I’m not sure what most people make of it, but… he made of it right.
I tell him that yea, it’s not on the righ tfinger, but yea, it was a special man who got it for me… but he didn’t make it home from the Marines. And without hugging me, he hugged me. I will never understand military but I understand sympathy. Hugs are always good.
And out of the corner of my eye, somebody was wondering what to do with the flask with three swallows of wine so I solved that problem.
I got on my bike and turned on my assorted lights. I duly noted that it’s a full moon, of course, since Easter is the first Sunday after the first full moon in Spring, which made me break into “rootitoot toot for the moon,” and to ponder Greg Brown and that I am a midwestern girl at heart, despite being born on the East Coast, and to sing brazenly at the silly people I rode by…
and the other song you sing is Ripple, and I’m pulling to a stop at Lincoln and Main and there is abicycle coming along beside me and it is an elevator moment and I have been singing aloud.
With a bit of a UK accent he compliments my cycle and I say I do love it and he says “and the flashing lights … “ and how nobody is going to say they cant’ see me, and I think “or hear me!” and there’s a teeny break in traffic and he is foolish enough to say something like “have a good day!” nd I thought “you sill young thing!!! you think you’re faster than me!!! “ so I simply rode exactly fast enough to maintain 20 feet behind him and commenced to sing ripple at him and let him know that I could certainly thank you very much pass him if I wanted to.
Then he crossed springfield
but when I went south on race I saw him in the bank parking lot.
I don’t know, don’t really care
Let there be songs to fill the air.