When I was 16, I spent hundreds of my hard-earned pennies on a CD. Not a ‘Greatest Hits’ or ‘Top Ten Songs of 1967′ compilation, as was my custom, but something completely unfamiliar.
Of all Barnes and Noble’s CDs, I chose Song Cycle by Van Dyke Parks— partly because song cycles trip my trigger, and partly because Van Dyke Parks looked so much like “Aardvark”… who had recently dumped me.
Additionally, I was impressed by the naming of tracks 6 and 7:
6. “Van Dyke Parks” – Public Domain
7. “Public Domain” – Van Dyke Parks
At 16, this struck me as the height of wit.
Song Cycle begins with the Randy Newman song Vine Street:
I can’t TELL you how I loathed the first 50 seconds of Vine Street. I’d paid full price for questionable bluegrass? What if all 12 tracks were about about blackjack?!
Before I could die of remorse, the bluegrass faded and Van Dyke Parks sang:
“That’s a tape that we made
but I’m sad to say it never made the grade.
That was me; third guitar
I wonder where the others are.”
My worries ended.
Like the singer remembering Vine Street , “I sold the guitar today. I never did play much, anyway.”
My Celebrity and its hard case only fetched $70. It felt like selling a friend, but we can’t always afford to be sentimental.
All week long, I’ve been selling my furniture. Packing. Scrubbing, then scrubbing again.
Mr. Jaunty and I moved out of our apartment today, our first home together. Next Saturday, we begin driving from New Mexico to Pennsylvania. Our combined estates won’t possibly fit in Mr. Jaunty’s pickup truck, so we’re having a yard sale tomorrow morning.
Yes, I’m excited about the future and yes, I’m grateful that Mr. Jaunty’s father is taking us in. But I’ve spent six years in New Mexico and it’s hard leaving so much behind.
Again, I am taking a risk by choosing something completely unfamiliar. This time, I’m gambling more than pennies.
My only guitar is gone, my body aches, and I’m sad all the way to my bones.
I wish you the best of luck!! New Mexico will miss you… It will be weird to come back and not get to see you
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I feel for ya. Saying goodbye to places, whether it was my apartment in college or my grandma’s house once it was sold, was always difficult for me. It helped me in the latter case to stand in the doorway of every room and remember everything I possibly could about the room – the placement of the furniture, the contents of the dresser drawers, every memory of an interaction I’d had…it took a long time. But reliving every memory, letting it play out in my mind, enabled me to have peace when the house was no longer mine to visit. It’s much different than moving across the country, I know. I hope you feel peace when you go, though, and that many good adventures await you in your new location.
I know it’s not exactly voluntary to release so many things that are fixtures in your reality, but I think it will strengthen you. There will be another guitar to sing in your hands someday. New memories to relish. You are brave.
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Ending a chapter is always a wistful time for me. Funny, there’s something a little sad about saying goodby even to the things I don’t like about a place. I always think I’m going to miss the familiar old annoyances…..
The reality is generally that life takes hold and moves me forward at a swift enough pace that there’s not much time to miss the previous chapter of life. I get busy with the current chapter. Many of those chapters have involved relocating with you. Good adventures!
Plenty of open arms await the four of you here in the Midwest. We know you’ll miss your old life, but we’re excited to see you here.
As you sell off your bits and pieces remind each other you’re making more room for lots of happiness.
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Doing new things is the best! Moving to new places, eating new foods, trying new dances, singing new songs… in doing so you may just find your new favorite thing. You may just fall in love with the strange newness. I say: “Jump up, jump in, seize the day.” Years from now you will have many great stories to share with your loved ones.
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