esperanza
[I read somewhere that Neruda wrote in green ink because it was the color of esperanza – hope. If it was good enough for Pablo, why not Juan?]
So I’m walking through Safeway at 9pm with a tube of cinnamon rolls and a half gallon of milk and I suddenly halt beside the artisan bread display because the muzak selection is Frampton, no lie, Peter Frampton’s I’m In You, and not some orchestral version by ‘sensual strings’ or something but the real deal, the Framp, P.F. himself. So I’m standing there, Pete’s crooning his pubescent lore, both my hands are full of increasingly tepid items, and I get that feeling, the one that thumps just behind my breastbone for a three-count then slingshots up in my throat then scatters itself from hell to breakfast landing in the corners of my eyes and all of a sudden I’m standing in Safeway at 9:05pm on no Tuesday in particular and I’m weeping at the transcendent joie de vivre, the simple devotion to being alive, this marrowed conviction that no child or animal or star or body of water or half gallon of milk is common, that what is called for in this life is not subjugation but genuflection.
I realize this makes me sound like some ineffective dissenter, a late-night Saint Francis in a grocery store…but I don’t care. Its now 11:11pm and I’m going to eat the last two chocolate chip cookies without a smidgen of guilt and then ease into bed and thank Jesus for my middle daughter who will turn 13 tomorrow, the same daughter who requested cinnamon rolls for breakfast, a plea that sent me to Safeway hours ago to be yet again struck blind with the jubilance of esperanza – hope.
When I cry/you don’t laugh ’cause you know me…
Wow, brought to life by the ’70’s… we’re brothers separated before birth, you and I.
Isn’t it something that Bread and Air Supply, both awash with emotion, don’t really have the pull anymore, but somehow Frampton finds the key? Did you know that Frampton played for Humble Pie???!!! Now I’m stressing iTunes to the max to find “Sour Grain” and “Shine On”… I KNOW they’re in there somewhere, but I can’t believe it’s been since 1971.
Some folks count birthdays, which has clear advantages in the tracking of one’s life, but long ago I started using the echoes of the music I love as the cairns in time that remind me I’ve earned the pain in my knees and back.
Thanks for the words and the Tube, Vern…yeah, some primal mother back there that birthed the two of us I’d say…and music as cairns? Amen, bro…
It must be the ponytail.
Happy joy & gratitude to both of us celebrating amazing grace in the form of our b’day twins, S & D.
Thanks, Gretchen…hope you all have a rockin’ day!
We’re just 2 big ol’ messes, ain’t we?
True words, Rich…true words.
Its not easy being a mess, huh?
May you have many more green, esperanza moments!
Megan, I raise a glass of milk your direction and say ‘thank you!’
This writing is evocative and I feel the throb of that this-is-beautiful-and-life-is-deep-and-good moment. Passionate response to the commonplace in fellow travellers is …. Both comforting and inspiring.
Thanks…it was deep-and-good.