07 July 2011

You know she's never gonna stop moving

For the last six weeks or so, I've been held in thrall. Irrational exuberance. Boundless optimism. Mysterious excitement. Unholy anticipation.

I have a pretty good sense of its source. Sometimes I just know. And it's such a good thing. I haven't been this happy since the world fell apart in the latter part of 2008.

The son and I are currently plotting his trip to visit universities, 600 miles worth of august institutions spanning the coast from Washington, D.C., to New Hampshire, a trek he and I will undertake later in the summer. In the fall, it's likely we will fly to Chicago, and at some point, there will be a run up to northern California. He still seems a bit passive about the whole college bit, which alarms me, but he is pretty adamant about getting out of So Cal, which also alarms me, but mostly because I'm not at a place where I can imagine letting him go. I'm all for the leaving So Cal part.

And I worry about the whole college thing these days. I've been fairly cavalier about encouraging him to aim high, but I don't want to be the one who sets him up for disaster.

(You know, just best that I not continue this particular train of thought. It encompasses people behaving badly, the horrific state of the world, does a university education even have value any more...all otherwise known as the Downward Spiral. And while that's all very valid, it's also highly unproductive.)

So back to that curious sense of joy...I'll be happy to be traveling. But there is so much more percolating along in my busy little brain.

So much possibility.

Go listen to some good music: "Baker Street" from the album City to City by Gerry Rafferty. This song came out when I was a teen, a few years younger than the son is now. One of those loved-it-when-I heard-it pieces. It's a song that continues to make curious and frighteningly appropriate appearances in my life, and I hear it in the strangest places, usually when my life is at a crossroads as I hurtle between frustration and exhiliration. I'm quite partial to the Foo Fighters' cover, but I have the original on vinyl.

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