Lamburgers

[I'm still around. Sometimes I write some words. Sometimes people like them. This email, for example, I'm told, got stuffed into a "folder" called "best emails ever." Better'n being published, if you ask me.]

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Hi ian-Bray,

Not to brag, but I own a 1996 Dodge Intrepid. If its body style doesn't date it, its color does: it is the most grating shade of ... teal. Condition-wise, though, the locals might call my old car "cherry," and Detroit would surely call it "mint." If I were stoned I might be able to figure out why fruits or herbs convey "newness" but I'm not stoned so I can't. Figure. Anything out. Much.

I bought this old car because I was pissed off (long story) at one of my kids. Also, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity: 34,000 miles for $2,300.00. Holy shit! Who could pass it up?

It has a cassette deck, which was useless to me, until Elder Eena, one day, found a Simon & Garfunkel "best of" at Goodwill for $0.79, plus tax. (Elder Eena gives the best gifts except on holidays when she stiffs us all -- she is so much like her mother in that regard). Elder Eena followed up the S&G with a boxed set of Bruce Springsteen, which, as much as I love Bruce, I find him more useful in the house -- "spring cleaning to Springsteen" is one of my favorite activities. No cassette deck in the house, though, so I haven't cleaned since last January.

Then, recently, my mother moved.

After she sold her spread in Vxrmxnt she was living with my brother, on Xxxxxxx Lake, in Xxxxxxxx, Michigan, for what seemed like forever. I wanted her to be closer to Trxvxrsx Cxty (she's 71) so she finally moved to a condominium on Crxxkxd Lxke, just south of Xdxn, Michigan. Perhaps sensing that this wasn't exactly the convenience I'll be looking for when she, you know, needs "help" or whatever, she offered me an old 3-CD changer she hadn't meant to bring with her from Vxrmxnt. It had belonged to her late husband (Rolling Stones fan, plus some Beatles and one really fun stxxl band). This efficient little machine has a cassette deck, so I might be cleaning house before the holidays. There's a recorded cassette tape in the cassette deck but I'm afraid to play it because w h a t i f h i s v o i c e i s o n t h e r e o h my g o d t h a t c o u l d b e c r e e p y ...

Instead of playing the potentially scary cassette, MrZ & I have been listening, with much pleasure and with many laughs, to your mix CD from Christmas of 2005.

It's the only CD we own.

In music-years, this CD is older than my car.

!!!

(Kidding: I actually listened to some Van Morrison earlier, then a whole boat-load of Jackson Browne, a bit of Cowboy Junkies, Sir Elton ... whatever I could find that wasn't, after all these stereo-less years, too coated with dog/cat hair to be operable.)

So I just got to thinking, you know, we're such assholes that we probably never properly thanked you for this beautiful gift of music.

Thank you.

Thank you very much for the gift of music, which we love.


Every happiness,

Z


[I'd made lamb burgers for dinner earlier, so the whole house was pretty lambentably funky-smelling. This email was written to not even a friend -- ian-Bray is one of MrZ's employees, and I truly like him, and I like his wife and kids, but he's not a person I would call at 3am screaming that my soul's against the ropes and I need to count on him.

It's not that I no longer write.

It's that I've had trouble for multiple multiple multiple months finding the words for general missives, and I've only been able to do the personal stuff when the spirit has been excruciatingly centered and absolutely clear.

I've been depressed since April, and depression is one of those things I don't share so well broadly -- spreading shit seems selfish to me.

I've had trouble climbing out this time, but I've got a toe-hold and a hand-grab now, most probably because my intimates (thank you so much) have worked just the right balance of prodding and letting it be.]

Deepest love to you all.

Lighter fare soon?

We can hope.

Hope, we will.