Visiting Pat Magee
oo Doo DOO. doo Doo DOO. doo Doo DOO. Pat, Fancy, and I listen to the inevitable chiming as we hop into the little green volkswagon. Along the way to the painting lesson, she tells me how she is going to hold her pencil tightly in anticipation that a seagull might swoop to snatch it like a a french fry from her hand. I explore the riverside, unnable to guess what new niches of Rhode Island we will see in the precious weeks of my visit. After she teaches the lesson, i enjoy a perfectly crafted PB&J. Fancy sits pretty, waiting for snausage links. On the way to wickford we stop to buy clamworms. Always cut them into nibble size pieces, and bEwArE the jAwS. We keep track of the daily catch on a business card. At the Warwick Mall we tell the tales of catch and release, during lunch with Susan and Bryan. Pat, Bryan, Fancy, and I share stories and general opinions of the state of music and culture as we drive to visit Mark, Lisa, and Torrie. That night we eat ice cream with unthinkable utensils, watch MacGyver, and love our time together. I love you Grandma. I can't wait to see you this summer with Bryan.