One morning ten years or more ago

Meadow, May 7
Calamus and golden ragwort (beginning to bloom) are strong presences. Wild geranium is blooming also. Turtleheads and Joe Pye are up.

One morning ten years or more ago, I could have gotten a call at 8:30 AM:

"Went to the Melody Bar for Monday Pabst Blue Ribbon 50¢ night. I'm not feeling so great...I've been up all night."

or, another call:

"Hey, my car's been impounded by Lew Blum...Yeah, parked it near Tritone. Didn't see the sign, didn't see the driveway...OK, yeah, I think it's prolly in South Philly...dunno, maybe you're right, could be North...thanks, yeah, I'll wait for ya. Appreciate it."


I was a single fine arts major - photography, which by many standards is not a fine art, and that's wholly fine by me, possibly preferable. I was an early bird. And I was an older student returning to complete a Bachelor's degree. Because my transcript looked something like a partially finished crossword puzzle, I was looking forward to earning that piece of paper.

My roommate would roll into our dorm room at 8AM, and collapse onto her bed just as I was leaving for class or the studio. We greeted each other and her eyes closed. In a way, our schedules lined up well.


At closing time, I walked home from the Melody Bar's eighties dance night, passing the tall walls of the hospital buildings, underneath the enclosed walkways that connect one building to another. I shivered, cold and sweaty, nervous. I wondered each time if I should have spent some of my wages, $12.50 an hour temp work at Dow Jones, for a cab. I never met anyone on the way.

Now the Melody Bar is long gone.


Last weekend, we received a call at 8:30AM, "Hey, want to go for a bird walk?"


This weekend, 8:30AM, the phone rang, "Hi, got your message. The powerline company cut some ironwood that I can pick up?"