My Fortune Cookie

I spend an awful lot of time aboard an aircraft. My week will start here in Los Angeles, but when the calendar turns its page three days from now you’ll find me packing the duffle bag I purchased in Sitka, Alaska nearly thirty years ago with my belongings for a weekend in San Francisco to be spent with my bride which aligns well with a recent fortune cookie which read “You will have a happy adventure soon.” ¶ Bonnie and I have been geographically separated now for nine months and after another wonderful and productive weekend in Northern California I find myself looking at the clock more than I should waiting for the afternoon whistle to blow so I can head to the apartment, unpack that duffle bag and throw my head down for a late afternoon-er. ¶ These nine months apart from each other have not been the easiest in the world for either of us, and I am without words to express my thanks for her unwavering independence. An attribute she picked up over the years while I was out to sea. In our twenty-five years with each other we’ve endured nearly a thousand inches of snow, numerous relocations, a devastating house fire, a hotel robbery, the tragic loss of her mother, battled and beat breast cancer and each morning she awakes with the same question she’s asked me since I’ve known her … “what time is it?” ¶ This past Sunday morning my response to that question was “10:00 AM” … her response? “Oh shit!” She had things to do that day, I had things to do as well and as she took her morning shower I could hear her humming which remains music to my ears. We all know the saying “a happy wife is a happy life”, and I’m here to tell you … that’s just what’s going on, geographically separated or not. ¶ Not only did she awake this morning at 3:30 AM to drive me into San Francisco for my early commuter flight back to Los Angeles, and then to return home, take care of a few things, and is now driving even further south of San Francisco into Silicon Valley to take care of her eleven-year old cousin for a week. If there’s one person anyone in this family can count on it’s the one person this blog is focused on; my wife Bonnie. ¶ After my nap this afternoon I’ll ramble down the street and say hello to all the cronies at Hacienda Playa, grab a bite to eat, see if I can talk the bartender into turning on a hockey game, have a few cold beers and heard back up the hill to the apartment for the evening. I’ll rinse and repeat this operation through Thursday night and what will my wife be doing? She’ll be taking care of her niece. Why? Because her cousin needed her to. ¶ People come into our lives in one way or another and as I look at the framed photograph of my wife here in front of my monitor I thank the day she came into mine. She’s truly one special young lady. One I’m fortunate enough to call my bride.

Keeping her close …

Love,

♥

Paul

Stairway to Geography

Geography will be the subject of today’s post. I am almost positive the majority of us can remember our “geography” teacher from junior high school. Geography is all that separates that special girl and myself from sharing good morning coffees and extra special goodnight kisses. Geography is that medium which distances myself from our two growing daughters who have certainly come into their own over the past couple of years; one a graduate from the USC and the other who readies herself for her freshman year at Humboldt State University. Proud parents for sure. ¶ So while Dad takes regular walks along the Pacific Ocean and Bonnie does her thing keeping the house effectively running there’s this thing called geography standing in the way of hand holding, some pecking, and perhaps even some PG-50 rated making out in the front seat … and then there’s possibly the best day at work ever which does nothing to minimize the distance between us – believe me. ¶ I realize it’s been a month of Sundays since I’ve posted and there’s been plenty of reason for that. 1. NHL playoffs – yes the Bruins are playing the hockey of their lives and I’ve been there for every minute of these frozen ice fanatics … 2. Work – the new job has completely wrapped me up, a good thing, but one of those things that has just consumed me physically and physiologically. The new command has just taken me in with wide open arms, laughter and even cab fare (more on that later). So suffice it to say that I’ve been busy busy busy after my brutal 1 mile commute after work to even entertain the idea of populating this page with my thoughts , my mind has been writing page after page almost daily but fingers to the keyboard have been another subject, until this evening. ¶ After a phenomenal day with the fair amount of members of the staff for a going away luncheon in nearby El Segundo to be followed up with a late afternoon Chiefs Mess call (mind you I’ve been a member of the civilian community since 1998) later this afternoon, beverages provided, has certainly been the highlight of my tour thus far and it’s not been the beverages, but the invitation to attend that’s made things especially inviting. ¶ From this world you get what you put into it … wouldn’t you agree? Wasn’t our attendance on The Ellen Show evidence enough of that? ¶ These guys I work with could care less about the gifts received, or the upcoming trip to Hawaii … what they care about is what they HAVE in place with regards to the WHO I am, WHAT I am, and really nothing more than that – and that’s all I care about. ¶ Tonight, after leaving perhaps the best bar I’ve been to within local driving distance; The Tavern in El Segundo I cranked the radio, peeled back the moonroof, opened all the windows and let KLOS 95.5 FM pump all the bass possible into the speakers while I did my best to lipsynch the words to Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven. This anthem is possibly repeatedly the #1 song on request lists across the nation and as I did my best (while wearing my BOSOX hat) to manage the lyrics (which I should know by heart) I realized almost immediately I still have a long way to go in learning each of the words precisely which got me thinking about my bride. ¶ We had spoken to each other about 2 hours beforehand, both in good spirits, and regardless, I am ALWAYS thinking about Bonnie … good, bad or ugly, and when Jimmy Page and crew light off with the lyrics to STH I can’t help think about that special girl some 400+ miles north along the Pacific Coast Highway … you think you know the lyrics, and good on ya if you do, but I’m guessing the majority of you do not, and perhaps because you’ve got those Jensen triaxil speakers so juiced you can’t hear yourself missing those critical points of this phenomenal song … so let me help you out, at least with one of the choruses. Bonnie, before I get started, know this … we probably danced to more of Pinball Wizard and Dream On while we dated in high school, but I strongly believe Jimmy Page and Robert Plant had you in mind when they wrote this song: ¶ … and as we wind on down the road / our shadows taller than our soul / there walks a lady we all know / who shines white light and wants to show / how everything still turns to gold / and if you listen very hard / the tune will come to you at last / when we all are one and one is all / to be a rock and not to roll / and she’s buying the stairway to heaven … When we all are one and one is all … I CANNOT WAIT!!
Okay … finally a post worth publishing.
I love you sweetie.
Klink / Klink

Keep her close guys …

Love,

Paul

That Just Happened!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaeWXbytIlg – THAT JUST HAPPENED!! ?? !!

So the link above is not only the title to our youngest daughter’s high school yearbook, but also helps give you an idea as to what just happened in our lives.  I think the five minute video clip will do far more justice than the words I can express to you right now.

Men and women come into each other’s lives for a reason, how little did I know how blessed I would be from a chance meeting on the high school dance floor in our hometown of Beverly, MA thirty-six years ago.

Thank you all for your texts, your emails, your support these past two years during Bonnie’s fight with breast cancer, and most importantly for keeping her close!

That just friggin’ happened … one Memorial Day weekend that will remain in our memories forever.

Thank you Ellen, her production staff and the American Cancer Society – you all rock!

Love,

♥

Paul

No Teases Left – It’s Showtime!

I left you last with a tease … this post will help guide to where the mocker leads today.  ¶ I’ve pulled a few gags on my bride in the past twenty-four years.  One of the gems was on her fortieth birthday when we figuratively took over a local nightclub with friends celebrating her birthday.  Birthdays are big with Bonnie, really big.  Her specialty on birthdays for our two girls begins at breakfast, goes through midday and does not end until the sun has long since left its mark on the day.  The quip that year included a mid-afternoon phone call indicating I was going to be late and please start without me.  “An emergency had come up at work requiring my presence, not to worry I will be there as soon as this problem is fixed.”  I had actually taken a half-day at work and my afternoon was spent at the Charleston International Airport where I awaited the arrival of Bonnie’s childhood friend Mary, inbound from Boston. 🙂 ¶ Upon arrival at the party I made my way in and found everyone already in a highly celebratory mood and when I found Bonnie amidst all the revelry I hugged her, said hello and slipped to the side and there was Mary standing there!  She knew immediately the wool had been pulled over her eyes and with Mary there for her party and to celebrate a weekends worth of toasts I was forgiven for the ruse. ¶ Phone calls and extremely heated texts yesterday have me completely on the edge right now as we are currently in Phase II of this new deception. ¶ Let’s first set the stage … it’s currently Thursday, the 23^rd of May, nearly 10:AM and here I sit in the bedroom of this rented apartment with my luggage on the bed.  I called Bonnie at 4:15 this morning to ensure she was awake and she was completely prepared for a morning drive to San Francisco International with Taylor and Logan alongside for a flight to Los Angeles.  She arrived at LAX approximately 8:45 this morning and I was not there to meet her and the girls. Why? The story I started yesterday morning included a network outage requiring my attention, etc., etc.  When she learned I would not be able to meet her at LAX – suffice it say the fireworks were of the type the male readers of this blog can certainly understand to be those we want to keep at an absolute minimum! ¶ I spent yesterday morning in Burbank, CA – in particular, at the Warner Brothers studio location where I met with Brian, Alyssa, Erin and Phillip, all employees of … “The Ellen” show!! ¶ We have all been invited to “The Ellen” show as guests and over the course of the past six or seven months have been engaged in regular communications with the production team putting together the story of Bonnie and Paul, highlighting our special girl’s breast cancer diagnosis, the toils, and her ultimate achievements.  ¶ The staff provided me directions to the Warner Brothers lot, the parking garage across the street, how to gain access to Studio #3, etc., etc., but I was not to inform Bonnie of this. ¶ Brian provided me a tour of this phenomenal studio, sound stage, production rooms, VIP rooms, Ellen’s office, et al yesterday where Ellen does her thing, and upon completion of this walk-around I was escorted outside on a golf cart where we were driven to a location to shoot a video of me explaining to Bonnie (as though she was there in the lens of Erin’s camera) how sorry I am not to be there today, how much I love her, how proud I am of her becoming a breast cancer survivor. ¶ This simple video shoot was extremely difficult to put together – for me anyways.  The Ellen production staff explained that during the taping Ellen herself may walk out into the audience, and ask Bonnie to the stage.  They were quite clear that this may NOT take place as well, as there are no guarantees, but under no circumstances did they want me to let the cat out of the bag. ¶ So now the girls are being chauffeured to Burbank in a Mercedes Benz limo with a full day of dealing with those same individuals I had met the day before. ¶ This entire process is quite surreal – believe me! ¶ The Ellen show has arranged for a driver who will arrive at my residence this afternoon at 3:30 to take me to Burbank where I will be met by Brian who will surreptitiously shuttle me to the green room where I can watch the show being taped.  I suspect at some point this afternoon I will appear on the stage where Bonnie, Taylor, Logan and Ellen sit and I can only simply imagine how fast my heart will be racing when this event takes place.  Again, there is no guarantee this will happen, and I I’m convinced my videotaping session from yesterday to be the reason.  I felt tight, strained and unnatural while discussing how I feel about the woman I have not seen for five weeks, yes, the same woman I have lied to about not being front and center in baggage claim when she and the girls arrived earlier this morning. ¶ Man, I hope this works …¶ Regardless, I will be with all my girls later this afternoon and staying at the Sheraton Universal City, courtesy of The Ellen Show, in Universal City, CA this evening.  Saturday morning a limo will then return us all to LAX for a flight back to SFO and a Memorial Day weekend back, one in which we will NEVER forget, in our home along the river in Petaluma.  I really got beat up yesterday, and deservedly so … fingers crossed that it was all worth it! ¶ No teases left … least not for now.

Keeping her closer than ever!

Love,

♥

Paul

The American Diner

Still in operation today!

It’s quite possible I have the internal hobo to thank for my love of the American Diner.   Flying solo down here in Los Angeles with no one to share breakfast and a surplus inventory of American Diners to experience is an absolute must.  The funny thing about finding them is [the diner] it does not pop up on your GPS as readily as say a Home Depot or a CVS.  Finding it is half the thrill, the other comes from sitting at the bar, taking in the atmosphere, listening to the regulars, reading the menus that almost always provide the same fare. ¶ Tracing back my love of the diner dates back to the early 1960’s.  As a young boy I used to help my dad deliver the morning Boston Globe and Record American.  His route would take us through the quiet little towns of Hamilton, Wenham, and Ipswich.  This little side job for my dad was seven days a week, so my alarm clock in the summer months was always set for 4:30 or so, and on the weekends.  I’d sit in the back of his convertible VW bug folding the morning paper as fast as possible before the first house on the route. ¶  I’m pretty sure my dad could feel the same level of excitement on Saturday mornings as we tossed that last Globe towards the door because we both knew our next stop was a favorite little diner of his in Hamilton.  The name of which escapes me, though this was truly the reward for the past two hours of playing paper boy.  In those days the diner was always full of men talking about whatever Boston sports team was in season, and debates on off track betting.   Sitting there opened my eyes to the world of male deliberations and I’ve never forgotten how special it made me feel.  Sundays were reserved for Dunkin’ Donuts where a dozen donuts cost .99 cents. I’d slip the change of 1 cent into the box full of crullers, honey dips, jellies and Boston creams for my brother and sister.  The two would later search of the penny, the winner of the penny would get the first choice of delectable delights awaiting them. ¶  If you search hard enough in the previous two-hundred and forty two posts related to this blog I can almost bet there’s mention to my lifelong dream of owning and operating a breakfast diner to serve a wide variety of dishes to the area working men and women.  ¶ According to Wikipedia, the diner itself originated on the east coast, though I will tell you as a resident here in Playa del Rey, CA there is no shortage of unique egg-dish eateries, not at all.  This morning’s list of to-do’s required a trip to the local CVS for some Velcro and with that out of the way it was time to use my internal Portuguese navigation to find just such an establishment.  ¶ Rolling along Sepulveda Blvd this morning I saw the sign which read “Dinah’s Family Restaurant” … the first good sign was the incredible difficulty in finding a parking spot.  This is where the happy hobo comes into play and if there’s a counter with stools present then I’m “all in!” ¶ Those regulars I listened to as a young boy were only a few stools down from me discussing muscle cars while giving the waitress a fair amount of good- natured ribbing on how they wanted their meals prepared.  ¶ The environment of the morning diner is alive and well out here and the two at the end of the counter are more than likely still sitting there.  Clearly neither of them is interested in the morning NHL playoff game between Chicago and Detroit. ¶  Bonnie and I chatted with each other this morning as her day was getting started.  We’ll be seeing each other soon for the Memorial Day weekend, and oddly enough the original plans for me heading north changed yesterday.  We learned a pretty special development taking shape next week which means all the girls will be heading my way … much more to discuss on this subject as it takes place. Oddly enough this blog for our special girl actually had something to do with it.  Is that enough of a tease?

Happy Birthday Grammy!

Keep her close.

Love,

♥

Paul

The Corner of Lost and Found

A little preface for this post since it’s been a while since my fingers have been on the keyboard for just such a purpose.  I’ve been living in Los Angeles since the middle of March … Bonnie and I are both fine, thanks for asking … this move was a professional one which involves a job with far reaching possibilities.  When the job was offered we both jumped up and down with such emotion never realizing just how far four-hundred and fifty miles really is when you just want to be next to the person you dream about, the person you regularly think about, the person that makes you want to be the person you’re aspiring to be … so one morning sitting on the corner after a wonderful walk (have lost 19 pounds since arriving … thanks again for asking 🙂 ) … I sat on the couch outside the smallest bar in Los Angeles known as The Harbor Room and watched the world go by and penned this little number in my head.  Fortunately I’ve still got enough RAM left in this size 7.5 squash above my shoulders to remember the words long enough to get them to those that I wish to read them the most …

I do apologize for my absence and hope you understand … for a couple months there I was just “lost” … and thanks to the support of my wonderful wife and two loving daughters … I have been “found” … hence, the following.

Enjoy.

Lost and Found

 

Standing at the corner of Lost and Found

Watching the world, sights and sound

It was here a realization dawned

To games of yore where bishops took pawn

Long nights, bar fights and tabs to pay

A clock ticked on the future, little to say

Once I was lost and on top of my game

A wife, a home, children to name

Great times, travels, decisions, smiles

Newsprint shows five plus decades

Nearly three of them with my wife

It’s now I understand the games

Will have to wait, months of few

Where the corner of Lost and Found

Witnesses many without a clue

That’s not me any longer

My bride, my partner and of course …

The corner of Lost and Found …

Has made me stronger.

 

May 4, 2013

 

Keep her close,

Love,

♥

Paul

Great to be Back

NO, I didn’t lose my fingers in a wood chipping accident, and YES it has been some time; 38 days to be exact since posting.  Perhaps the longest duration without providing any thought to paper on this page.  Let’s just say the past five weeks or so have been a challenge to the two of us. ¶ So what did it take to get me back in front of the typewriter today? Glad you asked. I facilitated a men’s cancer support group last night – the gathering was smaller than expected which provided me a wonderful opportunity to go one-on-one with the newest participant.  Cindi and I were able to share a few minutes with each other before our meeting started and I felt extremely comfortable exchanging thoughts and ideas with the gentleman who scheduled his time to share his thoughts, ideas and questions on the new journey he and his wife are on. ¶ I distinctly remember using the word “achievements” last night as I discussed the blog with him, and it turns out his wife enjoys writing so the first email of the day was sent to him with instructions for learning WordPress^® and the link to this blog. ¶ It feels great to be back in the game.  In my time away it was nice to see readership continued and we can welcome Japan as the thirty-seventh country who has visited the site to who I say “乗り物に乗って歓迎” ¶ While the gentlemen of Aerosmith fill the office this morning with their lyrics to “Mama Kin” I settle in for one extremely long day here in the office before our weekend begins. ¶ Happy Holidays to all of you and here’s hoping for a year that brings us health, peace, smiles and blessed fortune wherever your travels take you.  Great to be back.

Love,

♥

Paul

Serotonin Syndrome

We need to be our own doctor.  We’ve heard and perhaps said this from time to time, and allow me to further amplify this notion with today’s post.  We need to be our own doctor because doctors themselves are extremely busy individuals – period. ¶ For the past few weeks here along the river, we’ve been battling with a number of physiological changes in Bonnie that have made no sense at all.  I was really hoping the trip south this past Thanksgiving weekend with family was going to do the trick – it did not. ¶ In life we oscillate between sin and medicine.  The idea behind this quip is that negligence leads to illness.  The time to be concerned about sickness is when we are HEALTHY.  It is then that we can avoid damaging our system. ¶ Bonnie was a victim of a disease that struck without her complicity and I’ve said it more than once either in the form of a post or poetry – “Cancer F’n sucks!”  Through my research on a great number of cancer related medical terms on the disease which knocked at our door in January, 2011, I learned (or read) that cancer, et al, may very well have been averted if our society were to spend as much on the war against illness as it has on military wars.  We are also told there is a delicate connection between certain maladies and our nervous systems.  Undue worry may bring on illness as well.  To combat this threat we must have equilibrium, equanimity, a sense of humor and the capacity to play.  Here we are our own doctors. ¶ The initial intention of this blog was to keep our friends and family on the East coast aware of the day-to-day struggles and ultimately the achievements of kicking breast cancer’s ass and today we find ourselves wrestling with a whole new bag of tricks; the recognition and treatment of serotonin syndrome.  In a nutshell: This syndrome is an increasingly common adverse drug reaction, which can be life-threatening.  Despite the common use of medications with direct or indirect serotonergic effects, many physicians are not aware of the presentation and management of serotonin excess.  This is particularly true of less severe presentations of serotonin syndrome, which still contribute to patient morbidity.  Family physicians need to be more aware of serotonin syndrome. ¶ Bonnie visited with her primary breast care physician yesterday; Dr. Amy Shaw who researched serotonin syndrome and found Bonnie showed multiple symptoms.  I am extremely proud of the way Bonnie handled this entire event; from feeling poorly, having the shakes, not being able to go to the bathroom regularly, and mood swings and yet she finds the power to march into Dr. Shaw’s office at 3:30 yesterday afternoon and walk out with an entirely new game plan, a sense of relief and finally some much-needed sunshine. ¶ We sat down together last night when she arrived home with research materials on serotonin syndrome and now that we have a name for what’s been ailing her we can now start connecting the dots to fix it.  The intent of this post is to keep Bonnie’s Beautiful Boosters updated and for those of you battling breast cancer or any other form of cancer – trust yourself, trust your partner and trust your caregivers, but most of all – you need to listen to yourself – be your own doctor.

Special thanks to Rabbi Samuel Silver for his special to the Sun-Sentinel on “Being Your Own Doctor”.

Love,

♥

Paul

Thanksgiving; a Hugging Holiday

There will always be laughs and comic relief is always lurking around the corner when family gets together and this past Thanksgiving down in Menlo Park was no exception.  The fun and games actually started when the garage door opened slightly and we heard Arnie’s voice tell us to use the front door.  It took less than thirty seconds for the profanity to be shared (in a good way) and we all knew this particular visit had all the signs of a tremendous visit. ¶ Cindy’s new place is as tremendous as her previous home down there and with fifteen or so expected guests to prepare for she was in good company with her dad there in the kitchen, me at the bar and the girls doing their thing. ¶ The Thanksgiving Day parade was on the television and the bloody mary mix I had prepared the afternoon before was already making the rounds.  I learned something from a buddy of mine earlier in the week on a twist regarding your particular bloody mary recipe and it worked out just fine.  Sprinkling cayenne pepper on the ice in the glass before you build your bloody creates a wonderful add-on and as you chew the ice (if you do) you’ll be treated to a little “something” extra during the course of your drink.  Nice touch and I’m glad I listened to my buddy back east because it worked out wonderfully. ¶ Cindy had enough booze in the house to float a large fishing vessel but we did have to make a b-double e-double r-un to the local grocer before the guests started to arrive and once the cooler was full it was “game on” and there it began – the Thanksgiving bash of the year; friends, family, her colleagues from work and all the football the NFL could offer including the PATRIOTS/Jets game later in the evening.  PERFECT. ¶ Cindy’s colleagues are all wonderful people from all corners of the globe to include the Ukraine, Serbia, and Germany.  I was not sure what they understood from the game of the football, but one thing was clear – the bloke with the Patriots hat on certainly understood the game – and perhaps a bit more serious than the others.  Fortunately the PATRIOTS went into the Meadowlands and ended the Jets season and that was certainly the “thanks” I was looking for with regards to the game. ¶ Cousin Arnie made a 22 lb turkey, coupled with a prime rib roast and enough chopped liver to satisfy everyone’s daily fiber intake. ¶ The food, the environment, the noise level and the sleeping arrangements made for one hell of a get together and we’re so thankful for the invitation to join them each year.  Working the kitchen with Arnie is a godsend – there’s nothing he can’t do in the kitchen and just being with him and his wonderful wife Micki, daughter Cindy and their granddaughter Giovanna gives us that holiday hug we all need from time to time.  There were certainly tons of hugs throughout the weekend which did Bonnie a world of good as well. ¶ For an added dimension to the weekend, Arnie and Micki digitized hundreds of projector slides onto a DVD which provided some outlandish laughter of days gone by from the 60’s ,70’s and 80’s which gave Logan an opportunity to see her grandmother from her mother’s side for the first time.  Great stuff all the way around – we had so much fun we decided to extend our stay down there by a day to enjoy their company while we can. ¶ The drive home yesterday got us into the house thirty or so minutes before the final game of the season between the University of Notre Dame and the University of Southern California … this has been one hell of a season for Notre Dame and we’ve watched every game with piqued interest and to be home on the couch watching them finish the season undefeated was a perfect way to end the weekend.  The Patriots won, Notre Dame won, the University of South Carolina defeated Clemson University and to top things off … the high school Bonnie and I both attended finished their season 12-0 by beating our arch rivals in Salem (Witches) on Thanksgiving day … a plethora of pigskin accomplishments! But when it’s all said and done, the hugs of the weekend is what made this particular Thanksgiving Holiday a very special one indeed.  Thank you Cindy, thank you Arnie, thank you Micki and thank you Giovanna for opening your home and allowing that little bit of comic relief through your front door.  We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves!

Love,

♥

Paul

There Was a Time …

 There was a time when an entry on this blog was a daily routine; there was a time when our heads were inundated with new medical terms requiring research understanding and hope; there was a time when getting up at the crack of dawn for a trip down into Marin was also a regular part of our routine; there was a time when all I did to keep myself engaged was getting ready for that 4:PM whistle to blow and paint the town (again); there was a time when my musical tastes were centered on three of four rock  bands; there was a time when I knew the ocean was to be my friend, my home and the one place in the world I felt comfortable. ¶ This look back in time would appear as though many of these things were left in the rear view mirror and as I made my quiet little ride into work this morning, hearing a song from my past allowed me to realize the rear view mirror was offering a reminder that all is well, and the roads we’ve traveled, the big ticket items we’ve knocked off our bucket list and the direction we’re heading in is exactly where we need to be. ¶ I’ve provided plenty of my own poetry on these pages these past twenty-two months, but the song I listened to this morning was written by one of the best song writers the world of rock and roll has ever known and hearing it this morning provided all the clarity I needed to start the day … without further adieu, here’s the lyrics to “Gettin’ In Tune” by Peter Townshend of “The Who” who filled my head in the 70’s and makes me truly thankful for not budging nor forgetting where my musical tastes were born:

“Gettin’ In Tune”

I’m singing this note ’cause it fits in well
With the chords I’m playing
I can’t pretend there’s any meaning here
Or in the things I’m saying

But I’m in tune
Right in tune
I’m in tune
And I’m gonna tune
Right in on you
Right in on you
Right in on you

I get a little tired of having to say
“Do you come here often?”
But when I look in your eyes and see the harmonies
And the heartaches soften

(Chorus)

I’ve got it all here in my head
There’s nothing more needs to be said
I’m just bangin’ on my old piano
I’m getting in tune with the straight and narrow
(Getting in tune with the straight and narrow)
Getting in tune with the straight and narrow
(Getting in tune with the straight and narrow)
Yeah, I’m getting in tune with the straight and narrow
(Getting in tune with the straight and narrow)

I’m singing this note ’cause it fits in well
With the way I’m feeling
There’s a symphony that I hear in your heart
Sets my head a-reeling

(Chorus)

Baby, with you
Baby, with you
Baby, with you
Baby, with you
Baby, with you

I’ve got it all here in my head
There’s nothing more needs to be said
I’m just bangin’ on my old piano
I’m getting in tune with the straight and narrow

Getting in tune with the straight and narrow [repeat]

Bonnie meets with her doctor this morning for her two-week checkup while she remains on disability after her recent surgery.  While my bride works on getting in tune with herself, her medications and balancing her physiological makeup, she knows her other half and her children are three things that have been in tune with it all while we are all confident things will work out nicely as she really is the symphony I hear in my heart.

Love,

♥

Paul