I came downstairs a little late this morning.  We were up late last night after attending a concert at the Tupelo Music Hall  followed by a midnight rerun from Game of Thrones. Craig  had left the house for hospital rounds and tennis. As I entered the kitchen, I found Hank sitting at the counter drinking coffee and reading the paper.  No, I’m lying. Hank was not drinking coffee.  He wasn’t reading the paper. He was sitting on a chair at the counter. He looked up at me as I walked towards him. Where have you been he seemed to say. You’re late.

Last night’s concert featured two artists. Brooks Hubbard who is 22 years old with a contagious optimism about life and Lucy Kaplansky, age 54 who forgot her song list and presented a bit more of a jaded and I’ve -seen- a -lot -of-stuff attitude. They are both wonderful songwriters with great voices. Inspired me to think about writing songs. Two ideas emerged. One about dogs. Noooooo you say. Yes. There’s a great song in my relationship with Hank. The other idea is to write about what it’s like to be aging when you used to be so cool and experienced remarkable events when you were 22 and optimistic. Working title We were there.