I used to think that I was the only one in the world who suffered from progeny rejection, but as I've recounted this syndrome to others I've been surprised to meet others who have difficult relationships with their off-spring. Not that this knowledge consoles me in any way. I still have a hole in my heart over this, especially on his birthday. The hardest thing is just not knowing why this has happened. I think I could live with the situation better if I at least knew what I'd done to alienate him. I don't know what it is that I should be regretting.
Speaking of regrets - here's an odd one that's been bothering me since last Saturday. I played my monthly gig at South Stage Cellars (the winery that owns the vineyards that surround our house here.) As I was setting up, a fellow approached me and offered to sit in on viola. I took him to be a local drunk - I'd heard him play at the same venue a few days before when I'd stopped in to put my flyer in the window. He was a decent player - and who plays viola other than Ben Schubert? - but he seemed to have imbibed a bit on that night when I first heard him.
But I figured - what the heck - I'll give him a shot. Well, he ended up playing the whole night with me and he followed me pretty well. On some stuff he played some memorable breaks and as we chatted breifly between songs, he gave me some hints about himself. He told me his name (Ed) and that he was stuck in town until Monday because his truck had broken down and he was waiting for parts. I asked where he was from and where he was headed and his response was, "I'm a drifter." He has no home and no particular destination.
I wanted to find out more about him, because I've never had a chance to speak much with a proclaimed homeless person, especially one who played the viola as well as he. But at the end of the night I was cornered some patrons who wanted to "pet" me (I always called those after-gig parties with The Kingston Trio "Petting Zoos") and before I knew it, Ed was out the door without a chance to say goodbye. As soon as I could excuse myself from the customers I grabbed some money out of my tip jar and went outside to find him, but alas - he'd vanished into the night.
I really wanted to buy him another beer, give him a little cash and chat with him, but the opportunity was gone. So if anybody happens to run into Ed somewhere down the road, please tell him I have ten bucks and a beer for him next time he comes through Jacksonville.
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