Ah home! It's always a pleasure to return, and this had been a long trip. The intention was to visit our son, the rock star, in his new house. Years ago my children were told that I will no longer "help" them move, but I'm happy to help decorate. The last time I "helped" my son move, we were crossing the threshold of home to college. I'd been diagnosed with encephalitis, which we presumed was a form of West Nile. He was heading to The College of New Jersey, as I sat in the car putting steroid drops in my eyes every hour. I eventually lost some peripheral vision, which makes driving north, by myself, for some seven hours especially challenging. I got lost on the DC Beltway, even with GPS guidance, but eventually arrived at the new digs in Asbury Park, NJ. He's sharing a house with the bass player in the band, another friend and two girls. And one girl, is his girlfriend of three years! She's a sweetheart and I taught her to knit while I was there since she said she'll be having a "craft night" with the rock and roll road widows - the girlfriends left behind while the band travels to Austin to produce a new album.
The sheer joy of knowing my son cooks - well really the bass player is the cook, the girls are the sous chefs, and my son is the clean up artist - was the piece de resistance of my trip! I had a great time meeting his girl's Mom one afternoon, and promptly invited her to their new digs for dinner. The spotless kitchen was a beehive of activity. The chicken was filleted and hammered and stuffed with prosciutto, cheese and spinach. In no time we'd prepared chicken saltimboca with spaghetti and stir-fried squash. It was deliriously deliciouso! All the while I was visiting, he was mentally going through the things he had to accomplish before he left for TX, in two days. The van was still in the garage (yes, someday they'll have a big tour bus, but for now, it is what it is), and all the small details of leaving a life in suspension for two months. This is how it worked out, but I couldn't be happier. He's lived in some slightly seedy spots over the past few years, since he left college to make his dream a reality. He's even delivered pizzas for awhile. But the band was picked up by Roadrunner and the mere fact that they are producing a second album is a very big deal! Maybe my next online purchase for another MOB dress will actually be for a red carpet Grammy dress? "He's living the dream," as my husband likes to say, and I'm happy to go along for the ride!
Some thoughts on life above the Mason Dixon line: Driving is a nightmare - I could barely pull out in traffic anymore since I'm used to cars actually stopping and motioning me into a lane; Personal space is at a premium - people would downright shove and bump into me to get ahead in a line, or maybe that's my blind, or as I like to call it, my "blonde" spot?; It's better to comply than try and argue. No wait, that has more to do with visiting my big sister in NYC, who tells me she has a blueberry scone for me before bed. And after three protestations followed by recriminations, I just give in and eat the damn thing. Everyone who is the baby in their family will understand. She was absolutely lovely and generous, taking me out to eat every night. One evening we ate at a small Paris bistro on Madison Avenue, and the next I'm at a Rotary dinner in NJ with my MIL and her husband ordering fish (skate) at a Columbian restaurant....only to find out that like the "Chicken Franchise," skate was a typo and I had really ordered steak!
I didn't tell any friends I was coming since I had a limited amount of time to see family for no reason - there was no medical or emotional crisis to tend to on this trip - only fun! And I got to meet my new Great Nephew Devin, nine months old and already a rocker in his sunglasses and dimpled chin. A happier or more content baby would be hard to find. They waited a long time for this little angel, they are both in their late 40's. His Dad, my nephew, is in NY real estate, but has a jazz band on the side and they live on the lower East Side. Music runs deep in our family. I heard later my son's band, The Parlor Mob, got to meet The Bride in Nashville at midnight as they roared through town on the way to TX. She was working the late shift. The next day she was sitting at a coffee shop trying not to stare at Taylor Swift.
The band has started blogging. You can follow them at:
http://theparlormob.wordpress.com/
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment