Should I apologize for not writing yesterday or just accept that I’m finding it difficult to blog every day? Neither; I asked that question instead. I’m exceptionally good at avoidance.
It was Friday in June, so I went to the Sunset Singing Circle. This was the first one this year with beautiful weather at our usual location in Wagner Park. As something has to go wrong there was a large school group having a fund raiser next to us. It didn’t bother us; we were on the far end of the circle, but it was an annoyance to those on the north side. More importantly I’m an idiot; I’ve been going to the sing for years, they run from 7:00 to 8:30 every week; My brain thought it was at 7:30 until it was too late to get there on time. I was ten or fifteen minutes late. That cost me not just songs but socializing time with the Terre and the Terrettes. The compulsion to attend the Sunset Singing Circle is known in medical circles as Terrettes Syndrome. Don’t look at me like that, nobody is making you read this. On the other hand, if you don’t, I’ll cry.
I got a choice place to sit because I let Fred know I’d be late, and he got me a mat and a songbook. As usual I sat with Fred and David. There was a woman new to the circle this year sitting near us. I talked to her at an earlier show, but I didn’t on Friday. Part of me feels guilty about that. I like to encourage a sense of community. There are few things that generate communal feelings as well as singing together. There’s a reason it’s part of so many religious services. This is where I usually wax poetic about the joys of group singing. I waxed poetic about Jean Rohe the other day so today I’ll follow the wisdom of a picture is worth 10,000 words. This shows the physical beauty of the location.
This might have been the first Circle that I did not suggest a song. Every time I thought of one somebody else suggested the song wanted. As I am a regular and get to do it every week, I am not assertive getting my suggestions in. I usually just do it when people are shy about making suggestions or I like the set needs some balance. It achieved that without me.
Yesterday I went to a party for Jo, the woman whose apartment I stayed in on City Island. She moved out to Portland on the wrong coast. It was at her friends house a few blocks from her apartment. Jo was in town because she finally sold the place and was here for the closing. City Island is not far as the crow flies but I’m not a crow and I don’t fly. It’s always a challenge going east-west in the Bronx. I can make it with two buses. The trip takes nearly an hour and a half. I can get to Brooklyn, at the other end of New York City in the same time. Jo was the only one I knew well at the party, but I made a new friend, Jo’s beau, Steve. She told me so much about him but not the most important thing, he has a PhD in Physics. We geeked out! I love geeking out! Jo was happy that we bonded.
Thanks to the MTA Bus Website I was able to time my exit for just as the bus came. I changed buses in Co-Op City, right by the Stop & Shop. That’s the store I frequented when I lived on City Island. It’s stupid as I shouldn’t have any emotional attachment to it, but I felt nostalgic. It’s always a pain for me to get to a supermarket so I took advantage and stopped and shopped at Stop & Shop. Again, nobody is making you read this. The trip home took even longer as I just missed the more direct bus. After ten minutes on this bus, I was less than a quarter of a mile from where I started. The goes back and forth Co-Op City before it heads east.
My plan for today was the Hudson West Folk Festival volunteer party. It was canceled for the weather. The Brooklyn Porch Concert festival is also canceled. Now my plan is to stay home and record Gord’s Gold. As usual it is the best show ever. I genuinely feel that way. That is in no way objective and is nonsensical as I’ve done the show weekly for 15 months. That doesn’t change that it gives me a feeling of accomplishment. I hope I never stop being excited about recording Gord’s Gold.
Cover photo by Fred Volkert
Wise Madness 