June 4, 2007

There's a band in me playing all these songs that remind me of you

"When two souls meet ....
"Half of the world forgets...
"When two souls meet...
"All of the traffic lights...
"And when you stand right...
"That you don't care if...
"Oh when two souls meet...
"You better be there...."

One chorus, unable to *not* be sung, and a trip to New England is worth the price of admission. You who aren't me and reading this do not get to have the other half of the words or the melody yet. I wouldn't want to grab your mind until you hear it in its entirety. But when you do hear it for the first time, then I won't care if you can't stop singing it. It is what it is. Perhaps my opus? Perhaps I'm Mr. Holland?

What a lovely experience Providence was. The train ride rode through the rough-and-tumble industrial stretches of Connecticut, and I knew it would. Rusty, more like it. Every 15 minutes or so, we'd enter some mid-level metropolis, like Stamford, with office buildings set in front of the horizon, the way a city like Binghampton or something small tries to 'pretend' it has skyscrapers. "Real" big cities cover up the horizon.

We exit the cities, and started traversing along the coast of Long Island Sound /Atlantic Ocean. Small fishing villages appeared, which probably do not contain fisherman anymore. Instead, snooty New Yorkers drive 4 hours each way to "get away" from whatever it is we New Yorkers get away from, to spend two days in a newly refurbished rustic mansion. I say that out of total jealousy, because the scenes were breath-taking, the homes beautiful, and the smell of the salt in the air from the ocean, intoxicating. New England, with its tremendous hype from those I know, really is something to cherish. It was above and beyond my favorite train ride ever, not just because of the scenery, but also because it was only 3.5 hours. A movie, a book, some dinner, and I'm there.

My first minute in Providence was very much like my first minute in other cities I loved. There is something great that hits you *BAM* when you step out into cities I love, and puts everything else into a wonderful perspective. In Pittsburgh, it was the way the river and cascade hit you coming up from the tunnel in West Virginia; in New York, it was stepping out of Penn Station to see activity not unlike an ant colony, frenzy at its peak; in Ediburgh, Scotland, it was the sight of the ever-looming castle that immediately drew your eyes to the one watching you from above. In Providence, it was the Rhode Island Statehouse.

What a beautiful building, made entirely of marble, rivaling and I think surpassing our Capital in Washington. Surrounded by trees, which act almost like a natural security force, it's actually quite hard to get a good glimpse of the entire establishment from where I first saw it. I was lucky to get a wonderful glance on my ride back to the train station, and that will forever be engrained in my memory. Providence is steeped in history, ancient history by our American standards, and I felt amongst some old souls when I started walking around.

My time at the coffeehouse was wonderful and parts sad, in that it was so short. Tony, the owner of Brooklyn Coffee and Tea House www.brooklyncoffeeteahouse.com was so wonderful, so accomodating, and even offered to put me up for the night. There's so much I want to say about my experience there, but I think I will devote an entire post to my short time there.

Anyways, my set went great, I snuck a song in that no one really knew, and I was on my way home before I knew it. The trip was wonderful, beautiful, soothing, therapeudic, and ultimately a great success. If for nothing more than my finishing that damn chorus, something I am excited to stand up and proclaim to people, to the masses.

I went golfing in the driving rain yesterday with two other wet warriors. We fared well, and walked miles and miles doing something we love. I felt like a million bucks when I got home, it was so rewarding and fun. Sunday ritual for sure.

Found my Kairos cross. Been wearing it since. Kairos = in Greek, "God's time." I constantly touch it under my shirt now, I think to remind me that its actually there, and to make sure I didn't lose it. It's been through hell and back, and still lives on. I don't know if I can take it off again.

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