oh nellie… yars

Mornings on tour in England found us at the fry-man’s – a little restaurant in Brighton where bacon, eggs, sausage baked into pastries, baked beans and a spot of tea broke our fast. Then it was off to sight-see, back for a nap before leaving to play a match against the team from Hove. Read the rest of this entry »

turning points

The alarm is silent, waiting silently like a pitiless thief who would steal my rest from me, but I am already awake.  Alone in this large house,  I move softly in the moonlight that seeps in above my curtains.   As silly as it seems, I realize  that my quiet steps are just echoing the natural rhythm  of the world, gentle and at peace.

Naked, I step on the scale.   It warrants a wry smile, no getting fat when even chocolate tastes like metallic mud.

I step into the shower, and pull the curtain closed and let the warm water cascade down my body,  each drop a tiny micro switch activating my nerves and bringing me awake and alive.

My mind wanders, and I am back in time at the Front Row Theatre in Cleveland with its rotating stage.  Harry Chapin is singing Taxi.  That theatre is long gone, and it is so long ago I don’t recall my date, it could have been P_ or D_.  The melody teases me and moves through my mind from lobe to lobe like a serpent as the water runs over my contours and off me in rivulets.  It builds and has to erupt, loud and strong:

Oh, I’ve got something inside me,
To drive a princess blind.
There’s a wild man, wizard,
He’s hiding in me, illuminating my mind.

I sing it again and again, and then with my own words until it feels as if it must shake the house. It plays out like a fish bowing to the irresistible power of  rod and reel, the water trickles to a stop and I step out humming and reach for the towel.