The Last of Summer's Leaves

Well, what can be said of a Tuesday…the middle of February, the dead of winter and another snowstorm.  My friend Diane labeled it this morning: “restless” that’s what she said.  It is true I want to take up belly dancing and get a wild tattoo.  I want to throw a few worn out linens in the suitcase and head for the sun.  I want some cold outrageous coconut drink,  and I want to sip the whole thing poolside with a sweet young pool boy who delivers it to my chaise lounge.  I am wearing the worn linen trousers, and the sun is covering my bare feet…my face is, of course, protected by a big colorful shade umbrella.

I went to see Jeff Bridges in Crazy Heart yesterday, and I left the theater with an urge to head west.  And once I got there, I would walk into one of those bars that dot the side roads of Nevada.  I can imagine the smell of such a place, having been there more than a time or two.  It would smell of stale smoke and wet wool and spilled beer, and the bar itself would be rubbed smooth.  The tall bar stools would have chrome legs and tired leatherette seats.  In fact, the  whole place would look a bit tired.  There would be a juke box playing Western songs, and I would settle right in way over there in the dark corner, and I would watch the world happen.

Parked  out front, at odd angles, would be pick-up trucks with dented bodies and back ends littered with assorted pieces of ranch life like shovels and maybe a big black and white Blue Heeler just waiting for his master.  There would be hay scattered on the worn bed of the truck and, you just know, there would be a gun rack and bumper stickers from political parties I would have nothing to do with!  But I would love the scene for the moment and for that time “restless” would not enter my world!

 My mother could get restless, and when she did the whole house would shift.  Moving furniture was an art form for her…something one did when all else seemed so the same.  Over her lifetime, she shifted the bathroom at the house on the corner of 6th & G Streets three times….the sink, toilet and tub went from Avocado to Harvest Gold. In the end, they were all Mauve…her final and most cherished color!  Of course, this shifting, which grew from “restless,” required a plumber and a carpenter and took weeks to manifest…but it cured her “restless” for the time being.