Big Birds Were Flying Across the Sky

I'm noticing today how my thoughts don't really give any information about what's coming next. I'm tuned in to the planning nature of thought. Not like it's a problem, but I'm just seeing how thoughts say one thing and actual life either presents that or something completely different. It must be different. We can't think out exact future, can we?

Well, what about that time at the Dead show at Richfield? Spring 1994, I think, and I had played in my head the image of me being in the section where I preferred to sit, up on the side, Jerry's side; and he (at the time Hugh) would find me. Like I saw happen in Atlanta that night when we were on the Barrel of Monkeys and at a very bright and jammy moment, here came Sean, Jackie's boyfriend. In the whole giant Omni, and she said, "I knew you'd find me." She sort of has that vision. And in Richfield it worked out much the same way, right there on Jerry's side. I turned around and there he was. The only show we spent together. At least the only time we saw Jerry together.

They played this could be the last time . . . and I knew that Jerry was one before Hugh. See when I say that I'm okay, they look at me kinda strange below.

Last night I went to my friend Donna's 50th birthday party. One thing that is so clear to me is there's really no such thing as age, at least not in the way I'd thought. We talked about junior high, about outfits worn in 1989, travel in Greece: other lifetimes. And we were there, Donna's hair curled up in a super-hip flip do, and all her friends were there, reading odes of great devotion and playing music, many duets.

We played Willin' and most everyone sang along. Now that was really cool. I stumbled and fumbled through it and was nervous as I always get, but the group was so receptive and merry (and probably a little drunk) and happy to be there together, everyone clapped when we were finished.

Thank you so much to the Meandering to a Ramble blog that had me writing the word willin' . . . that had me move more deeply into the song. Thanks to youtube for turning me on to that great live video of Lowell and the band and for also having instructional videos that actually taught me how to play the song. Thanks to Todd Doerr for handing me this guitar and saying, "It's time," those many many lives ago in San Francisco. Thanks to Scott Grantham for helping me play it in a higher key.

Heh heh this sounds like my Oscar speech.

If you want to bake a Carin from scratch, first you have to create the Universe.

And while we're at it, I hear it's Neil's birthday today. Let us pranam. 




And while we're bowing, let us touch the lotus feet of our Joni, her birthday being just a few days ago.

Great people were born in November. Yep, that's you.

xx