Been sick and busy too, and last night after teaching dance I went with S to a birthday party. We drank red wine and ate decent pizza, and a full ensemble --complete with guitars and drums and saxophone and bongos and tambourine and flute too-- rock and roll band played cover songs, and I danced with my best girl. She was happy because they played the Doors, and any cover band whose one-good-eye steel-grey-hair lead singer doesn’t screw around when he’s singing Jim Morrison is a good band.
They played honky tonk, they played rockabilly and blues, they played upbeat and raucous and wake the neighbors. They even played a song dedicated to their neighbor, who always calls the cops when they practice in the garage. But it was a weeknight so we headed home after cake, and were in bed by eleven.
Today is the day of expectations, often exaggerated, rarely met. S & I don’t really celebrate Valentine’s Day. Our first Valentine’s Day together was spent washing skunk spray off the dog, and then a trip to the emergency room because I had a kidney infection. I also tend to be thankful for his love every day.
Just on Sunday the radio played My Luv is Like a Red Red Rose and we stood hugging by the kitchen sink, arms curled around each other holding tight, and I know we both felt the best feeling in the world. It’s the tickle of joyous laughter from the center of the soul.