If you wrote me off, I'd understand it
'Cause I've been on some other planet
So come pick me up, I've landed.
Because the little guy has school off for the rest of this week, and the in-laws have been clamoring to see the kid for a while now, I had to leave on Mardi Gras day for San Jose. So here I am, ambassador and escort to the main attraction. I know my duties and must carry them out. Ho-hum.
Yesterday morn, I was on another planet. I walked my dog early in the morning on planet NOLA, then went to the parade route out of curiosity just in time to see Pete Fountain's Half-Fast Walking Club go by - I even managed to catch some beads and doubloons from them for Dan, the clarinet man, before Gilda got a little freaked by all the hubbub and we had to head home. I cooked up a mess of pancakes for our friends who came to see Zulu, hung out on my porch with the little guy in the sunny weather, and tossed beads down to passersby while my stereo blasted some Sharon Jones out on the street.
Then, at 11:30, we hopped in the car and schlepped all the way to Jackson, Mississippi, to take a plane out to San Jose from there (my husband is heavily into travel bargains, and this one was a bargain...). They loved my t-shirt at security (I almost wore this one, but then my in-laws would not have been amused...), but I really wasn't in the mood to explain how I got into soul music in the first place. Our flight left at four for Dallas, we took the little train they have at their humongous airport to change gates and planes, and I endured a four-hour flight to NoCal with a tired little guy who just could not get comfortable enough in his seat to save his life and get some rest.
Anyway, we're here. My son is coughing and chattering away in his bed, and soon a new day in another part of America will begin. Ho-hum...
Oh, and I turned on some Mr Rogers this morning for the little guy, and who is one of the neighbors? Wynton Marsalis. Sigh...