hippies always welcome

 

paradise lost

 

 

my dad was a blue collar worker, an electrician
at one time he worked three jobs just to keep us afloat
going out to eat was a luxury and usually meant hitting up the little italian joint down the street
I liked playing the jukebox

one saturday he surprised us with a road trip to the shore
we swam in the ocean and stayed in a motel
I thought it was paradise

fragment

 

I see a train or the subway and I am transported back to the 1950s
my grandmother would take me on the train to Boston
(she always wore a dress and cuban heeled shoes)
for a day of shopping
and blueberry muffins from the bakery at Jordan Marsh
one time she took me to the movies
we saw Bambi and I cried all the way home

 

a fragment

 

“We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past, like ancient stars that have burned out, are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about every day, too many new things we have to learn. New styles, new information, new technology, new terminology … But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.”

~ Haruki Murakami