For most of my years at Fieldston Lower School, Tania held things together in the school office. She retired a couple years before me, and moved somewhere "far far away”, which really means I didn’t pay attention. Wouldn’t you know it was Morehead, KY. I found out too late when I was already in Louisville because she posted on the blog to stop by if I was in the area. My dates are too set with the next stops to backtrack. Maybe on the rebound!
Next stop in Louisville was my friend Jeremy Beck. We were in the BMI Musical Theater Workshop 30+ years ago. Jeremy is my role model when it comes to composing. He is always working on something new and doesn’t shy away from big projects, like a Requiem or Cello Concerto. It’s beautiful music, and you can check him out at www.beckmusic.org.
Also 30+ years ago, I was a co-founder of the Composer’s Circle along with Phil Benson and Chandler Carter. We produced concerts in NYC of our own music and guest composers. Even though the concerts always cost us, those were some of the happiest creative years. We would pick an instrumentation, and if we wanted a piece performed, we had to write for those instruments. I wrote a string quartet, woodwind quintet, “Imaginary Places” for harp, flute and cello, and more. You can find recordings of these pieces on a legacy website of mine at reverbnation.com/blakerowe.
Jeremy and I had a nice visit, and next up was Debby and Tom in Indianapolis. Sharon and Debby were next door neighbors from age 12 and from the stories I hear, thick as thieves. I spent a few days with them. Tom watches their grandson Graham during the day, so I got some baby time! He’s 11 months and of course entirely adorable. Debby and I did a jaunt to downtown Indy and I saw Monument Circle and the Kurt Vonnegut Museum, but mostly we just hung out. Debby made challah bread, eggplant parm, and I was a happy camper.
On to Stephanie in Bloomington. Sharon and Stephanie became friends in Ossining, NY when she stopped Sharon on the street and told her she had just moved to Ossining and wondered if the streets were safe. In Sharon’s inimitable way, she assured her Ossining was safe and invited her to dinner. And now here I was, having dinner with her and her partner Shahyar who was just released from the hospital after having open heart surgery! We had a delightful visit, and I may have stayed another day, but Stephanie really needed to focus on caring for Shahyar.
Continuing northward, I drove to a campground near Indiana Dunes National Park. I was squeezed in between big RVs and confused by the many Christmas decorations until I figured out it was “Christmas in July”. I wouldn’t have minded the strange scene or being crowded, but the water was disgusting. Check out the comparison between campground water and Indiana Dunes water.
I left first thing in the morning. Looking for breakfast, all I was seeing were national brands. Starbucks, Subway, Dunkin’ Donuts. I wanted an independent cafe. And suddenly there was Jenny Rae’s. I walked in and saw a few farmers checking me out. In my most gruff but cool voice I said, “Mornin’..” and took a seat at the bar, indicating I’m available for conversation. None ensued. They were talking about combines and fertilizer, and I focused on the wall decorations.
I got to Indiana Dunes by 8:30am, and immediately tackled the “Three Dunes Challenge” which was pretty easy. But then I decided to walk the whole loop around the park, which took me through buggy forest and baking beach. It was just under ten miles when I got back to the van. I kept telling myself I’m building grit.
Back on the road, I drove past Chicago, where the cars were whizzing past at 80mph, into rolling, bucolic Wisconsin.
The constant presence I’ve noticed most about the country, from Ohio to Kentucky to Indiana to Wisconsin, is corn and soybeans. I mean, that’s it. There’s the occasional cover crop, a couple native fields, a singular squash field, but at every turn, massive acres of corn and soybeans. These farmers can’t afford to switch to organic, aren’t growing for local consumption, their livelihood depends on the tonnage they harvest. Maybe it’s animal feed, maybe corn or soybean oil, industrial use, international export, who knows, but these massive expanses of mono-crop give me a feeling of dread, while simultaneously being beautiful.
Amidst this capitalist beauty, I arrived at Nancy’s house. She refers to the owner of the farm next to her as “Mr Monsanto”. Nancy grew up next to me in Richmond, VA. I was always over at her house, eating her homemade cookies and philosophizing. After we graduated college, we met in Seattle and rode our bikes to San Francisco. She got engaged to her boyfriend over the phone, (I think he was worried) and I gave her a Band-Aid as a stand-in for a ring. When we reached San Francisco, we ceremoniously brushed our teeth on the Golden Gate Bridge and spit over the side.
It is so nice to connect with friends after so much time. The overall feeling is of the swift March of Time. We are all doing our best, improving where we can, adapting to challenges with health, dealing with loss, finding gratitude and appreciating beauty where we find it. May we all continue until we meet again.