Some may have noted someone MIA....again... at the Gotham Happy Hour. Sometimes the logistics work not at all. The intention remain. Parental duties intervened. Our son yesterday moved into home number 10 yesterday morning; his parents helped him and his fiance finish their “exit” from downtown Brooklyn across Adams Street from where his uncle works; that part of the move just conflicted a bit with the Gotham gathering. Hopefully, I make the next one.
I figured I could get by with my iPad and iPhone while the movers handled the furniture and boxes. In fact, the iPad remained undeployed. I found myself able to handle my work on the iPhone alone. It recalled for me the time Jonathan left home to “tour” graduate school opportunities leaving his MacBook here and relying on his iPhone to connect to a server he created here; I just relied on viewing any needed files in the cloud and got out much of what I need to handle from my MacBook before heading off to Red Hook Lane. I tend to use the iPad and MacBook more so I found it nice to get reminded how powerful the handheld device becomes when needed.
For a good deal of the time, I felt the presence of mom and dad involved more moral support; but we accepted responsibility for temporarily storing some material that will find their way to Massachusetts at a later date. We helped the final cleanup and disposition, and wished them well. A new chapter to be written.
The song does not apply but these lyrics out of context came to mind when I thought of this move:
“There's a new beginning clingin' in my head
The rest of it's been said.”
and it fits when the song it gets connected to the tune I “borrowed” as the working and final title to this commentary by the instrumental – Grand Junction – that lent its name to the moniker that Jonathan’s sister gave to our home more than a decade ago on FourSquare. Together, all three compose what longer-time fans of my fave band, Poco, often call the “long medley” that appeared on their first Live LP, DeLIVErin’. And here’s a modern version recorded live 50 years later at the Troubadour in Los Angeles at which Marisa “represented” her dad before her return to New York.
P.S. Just realized my Songs for the Road playlist will get put to use for a visit.....