Tuning Out

I really need to stop cleaning out my car. If you read my previous post When the Geek's Away, The Glitches Will Play, you'll remember that cleaning out my car was what led me to lose my cell phone and break my glasses. So, why didn't I think of that the other day when I was digging through my console, bagging up trash. And, by the way, where DO all these pieces of kleenex come from? Whole kleenexes I could understand, but there are all these little shreds at the bottom of the console. Car mice (mus mobilus ) building nests? Kids bored out of their skulls to the point where they're working on origami projects while they wait for Mom to come back with the Nirvana Nibbles? (Think Happy Meals, only from the Hindu Tofu-Hot Dog Man. Or better yet, don't think about it at all.)

Kleenex, old envelopes with ancient shopping lists on them. 3 bottles white, 4 bottles red, 12-pack cans, gin, cider. Hmm, sounds like a list for a lost weekend. No, on further reflection, as I sat there not cleaning the car, I remembered that it was 3 bottles of white paint and 3 bottles of red paint for tree decorations we were making last Solstice, 12 cans of gold spray paint for the pine cones we put on our wreaths, and gin stood for ginger ale. Hah! And here I bet you were thinking that we're bigtime drinkers. Shame on you!

(Oh, and six gallons of cider to age in the mudroom until it was hard enough to knock you on your keister if you took off your boots too close to it. Sometimes,the geek and I would go out there and put on our boots and take them off several times a night, just to keep in practice.)

But I'm getting off topic here. In fact, I'm so far off topic, that I think I'll just start another topic and maybe it'll wander back to the point which was... Well, it'll come to me. Anyhow, when I was done, I had two grocery bags full of stuff. One was trash and the other was the essentials without which I can't operate: pens, notepads, pens, extra glasses, pens, gum, pencils, cell phone charger, toothpicks, emergency deodorant and pens. I stashed the good stuff in the console and brought the other bag in the house and threw it into the trash. This made the trash can full, so I hauled it out to the garage, so that Geekdaddy or Son could take it down to the end of the road the next day. Why is it that one thing so often leads to several others around here?

The next day, the kids and I headed off for their first day at camp. Daughter is a camper and Son is working there. As usual, in spite of my efforts to have everything and everyone ready, we were late. Daughter, who is somewhat anxious even when things are on an even keel, was almost hyperventilating. So I turned on the radio to take her mind off our lateness. That's when I heard The Song.

It was on WERU my favorite local station, started by Paul Stookey of Peter, Paul and Mary, actually. We R U, community radio. It's in Blue Hill, near the coast, about thirty miles away with a few mountains in between when we head toward camp. I had to really strain through the static to hear the name of the song and the performer, but it sounded like "Almost Beyond Somewhere" by Brian Ives.

"Quick," I said, "Get a pen out of the console and write this down before I forget it." I'm notorious for forgetting songs that I hear and want to investigate further. That irks me because I've discovered so many great artists that way.

"I'm not finding any pens in here, Mom," Son said, pulling things out of the console, "It's really hard to find anything with all this junk."

I looked over at the growing pile of shredded kleenex, straw wrappers, Nirvana Nibbles collectibles. (Little action figures in yoga poses each with their own trading card.) No pens. I began to get a sinking feeling.

"I trashed the good stuff and kept the trash," I said.

"Say what?" Son said.

"I must have gotten the bags mixed up when I cleaned out the car and I threw away the stuff I need and put the bag with the trash back into the console. So now we don't have a pen. Oh, wait, you two are artists. You must have something to write with."

They didn't. They are both sketching constantly and always carry their art supplies. Except when they go to camp. Art camp. Where there are plenty of art supplies. Right. Two artists and a writer and we couldn't come up with a writing implement and we couldn't stop because we were late and the song title was fading with every mile. So I started saying it over and over again. "Almost Beyond Somewhere" by Brian Ives. "Almost Beyond Somewhere" by Brian Ives. "Almost Revive Someone" by Wanda Ware. Oh no, I was losing it.

A motorcycle passed us with its radio blaring. I continued to mutter, "Although We Leave Sometime" by Ronald Cyr. My son put on his headphones and I could hear, faintly, Fats Domino singing "Blueberry Hill". "All Through the Night of Thrills by Patty Ross" I said desperately. Damn it! It was gone. Now, I'd never be able to find the song and I had really liked it. That's when Daughter, who had been playing her Gameboy in the backseat, piped up and said, "That was a good song, Mom, the one you liked."

I agreed, but said, bitterly, that I'd never hear it again, because I hadn't been able to write down the title and now I couldn't even remember the title.

"I wrote it down in my Gameboy with my stylus," she said, "Didn't you want me to?"

I was flummoxed. Trust the ADHD contingent to save the day, as they so often do with their innovative approach and offbeat solutions to life's little problems. And also trust them not to tell you until you've driven yourself half mad thinking that all is lost. It's a knack they have.

When we reached camp, I checked out the Gameboy and was chagrined to find that Daughter had written down the wrong thing. "I Must Belong Somewhere" by Bright Eyes. That's not what I heard. However, after I'd gotten them settled and had driven home and retrieved the bag of good car stuff from the trash, I looked it up on the Net just to see if I could figure out what the real title is. Well, with some detective work, I did just that, and here it is. It's a really good song and a great cd. I highly recommend it. As a matter of fact, I'm going to go out and buy it, and then I'm going to go pick up the kids and stop off for a pint of Daughter's favorite sorbet. It's watermelon, but she's a peach.

Don't forget Maine-ly Blogging. I'd like to introduce "Maine-ly Blogging", a carnival of Maine bloggers. If you live in Maine and have a blog submit a post here. Submissions will be accepted until June 25th and posted on June 26th. For more information submit a comment and I'll get back to you.

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