I had a day off from music yesterday (Sunday) on my little mini-tour in the Chicago area, so I walked to the "downtown" of Arlington Heights. I'm staying with friends in this NE suburb, and while it's certainly not the small town alluded to in the title of this screed, its revitalized downtown area has the feel of rural midwest America. Bunting, either a remnant from Memorial Day or an anticipation of July 4th, is hanging from balconies and displayed in shop windows. There's an ice cream shop, of course, near the central grassy square, that was doing a brisk walk-in business on this hot afternoon. Young couples pushing strollers or wearing children on their shoulders, oldsters hunkered in the shade of massive trees lining the greensward, petulant youths staring at their phones all added to the tableau.
I've lived in the desert now for 40 years, but I was raised in an environment quite similar to this - same trees, familiar birds and flowers, same feel of, well, photosynthesis, all that respiration going on - quite different from what we experience in our drier climes. And I kind of felt at home, even though I knew no one.
This is all just a wordy way of saying that our pasts are never quite gone, that we maintain, on some cellular level, I suspect, vestiges of our upbringing. Vestiges that can be summoned - and savored - by the taste of vanilla ice cream on a hot summer Sunday afternoon.
Apropos to nothing at all, please enjoy this version of Steve Earle's tune GALWAY GIRL
Have a fine week!
And here's my tune It's All Right for your downloading pleasure....