Friday, February 25, 2011


WE SAID GOODBYE, GOODBYE to our son and his wife, the baby nursery, the two cats, The Fan, and Richmond, Virginia, and set out for home, my chauffeur and I. And no sooner had we left the city limits than my chauffeur (you know, Dear Reader, it's that Yard Man of mine) pulled the car abruptly off the road. He's a fabulous chauffeur, but he tends to do things like this without any word of warning. "WHAT? What's wrong?!" I'm on Instant Alert Mode.

"It's the windshield," he said, as he exited the car. "I just noticed that strip of rubber is loose."

He seemed a little concerned, which concerned me more than a little. But then he gave it a pounding and a promise and assured me we had nothing to fear (in the way of escaping windshields) at least for the time being. And as soon as we were on our way again, that Yard Man pulled out a box of items that diverted my mind immediately from windshields sailing off into the great blue yonder and instead sent it sailing off to the great blue past.

The mere fact that this small box my yard man plopped on the seat beside me was filled with cassette tapes proves that it was from a distant past; does it not, Dear Reader? "These are from your dad's old office," he said. "You know he had a whole stack of them, and none of your siblings wanted any. I picked out a few."

Oh, my goodness! None of these tapes was less than ten years old
and some were recorded when cassettes were a modern marvel!

Heading steadily northward, we were speeding
backwards in time!

Both of my parents enjoyed music immensely,
but neither was what you'd call a real musician.
However, Mama could sing pretty well, and Daddy could play the harmonica.
And they had friends who could sing and play. So they got together an informal group
and called themselves the Harmonica Club.

Suddenly I was listening to the voices of my father and mother,
talking to folks who had come to listen to Harmonica
Club have a practice session. I cried!

"We're here to practice, and you're here to listen.
But it could well be you'll get through before we do...." says my dad.
And Mama makes introductions.

Dear Listener, the box held many more treasures!
The tapes entertained us for two hundred miles.
And I'm afraid I will have to play more.
If you get finished listening
before they're done playing...
I trust you will know what
to do!


No comments: