Oh, I want to go home for this:
I mean, did YOU know that there's an excellent blues recording studio in middle-of-nowhere Kansas? That the owners have made it their mission to record as much as they can with aging blues artists so that their music isn't lost? Or that the venue is a church with phenomenal acoustics? I love that this exists in my home town. And I want to go Friday night, see The Howlin' Wolf Band and the Muddy Waters Band.
If my dad was reachable, if we were still talking, I'd be emailing or calling him to see if he'd like to go. It's the type of thing we could go to and enjoy together and talk about years later. For now, though he's fallen off the family map, as he's done a couple of times before. I just have to hope he's ok and taking care of himself.
And in the meanwhile, I might have to plan a trip home. Lucky me, there's guaranteed babysitter availability in that town -- if not my mom, then one of the many kids I babysat when I was growing up, all of whom are almost old enough to have kids of their own. (I don't think I'm going to take that any further. My odometer rolls over here soon, and the less said about it, the better.)
My mom gets in at 12:30. Jon's flight leaves around 7. I'm going to finish changing linens and straightening things up, get cleaned up, run to Target to pick up the 100+ photos I had printed for Jon to take with him, stop at TJ's for milk...