Back home again, Folks!
I’m sitting here next to my dad while I’m writing this. He’s got golf on TV. I don’t think he cares that much about golf or who’s playing or what the score is or even how to score. It’s pretty basic. He likes to see them hit the ball. I guess thats more than half of the charm of the game.
“It fascinates me how they can control the curve of the ball.”
He’s just a few key words away from being a commentator.
I throw questions at him. Randomly. It’s a test I guess to sense how far gone his mind is. Just fishing around in his memories. Seeing what comes up if anything.
Me: What did Grandpa Ben (his father) do?
Dad: Office.
That’s something. Office is what a lot of people do. No reason to be too specific.
When I was growing up we lived a good portion of that time in the north valley of Albuquerque off of Rio Grande Blvd. As you head north down that street from Central Ave, a few miles down, there was fairly dramatic S curve. There were always accidents down there. Our street fed into Rio Grande almost like an on-ramp at the top of the curve heading south. There was a large house on a big piece of land on our street. The fence of the property was on the side of the street going around the curve. On the property was a herd of Buffalo owned by the doctor who owned the house. There must’ve been 6-10 big buffalo, maybe bison, but I always referred to them as buffalo. If people weren’t sure where I lived I would say, “You know where the buffalo are? Down that street.”
I was driving down around there with my dad yesterday. We were heading toward the S curve.
Me: You remember the house we lived in down here?
Dad: I never lived down here.
Me; Yeah, we did for years. I grew up down here.
Dad: I don’t remember.
We drove around the S curve past the property where the buffalo were.
Me: You remember the buffalo?
Dad: Yes.
My entire childhood home, gone. Buffalo? Etched on the walls of his dimming mind. They might be the last thing to go. Like on the great plains. Just space on the horizon. Or maybe they will aways be there like in the cave of Lascaux. Buffalo. Bison. Living animal spirits forever with us. Our relationship with them is part of what makes us human.
We had several dogs growing up. Old English sheep dogs. Many over the years. MacDuff, Raglan, Sam and Disco. Mac was the first. We had him in the late 60’s into the early seventies.
Me: I was up by your old office today. I used that address to go to Highland High. You remember that?
Dad: Uh, I don't remember a lot of that stuff. No.
Me: You remember Raglan?
Dad: Yes.
Me: Macduff?
Dad: Yes, Macduff.
Animals. Keep us grounded.
He might not know me the next time I see him but we’ll aways have the animals it seems.
Today I talk to Neal Brennan, again. It’s an evolving relationship. We go pretty deep. On Thursday I talk to Tiffany Haddish. I caught her at the end of a long day of promoting her new book. She was a bit over it all. I got through eventually though.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Marc
