Compost and Dave Mason

My parents were at a dinner party in Washington D. C. a long time ago and we kids got bored so went down to the basement where they had a few 100 year-old wooden wheelchairs from a local hospital charity sale. We had races. Basement races in an old brownstone. Cool!

Then the older boy put on a record of incredible music as I was 12 and used to top 40. My musical ears listened. He showed me the cover. It was Dave Mason, and way out of my wheelhouse for the moment.

A few years later we were in a frigid climate with a pool, Dave Mason, Joan Baez, James Taylor, Bob Dylan (All Along the Watchtower, Ruben Carter) and many others to come when I took up guitar, PPM, Johnny Cash, CSNY and Juni Fisher. I keep my fine guitar hydrated, not played.

We had an open campus high school and I lived three blocks away. In late spring I’d run home, hop into our pool chair listening to Dave Mason with a double album under my chin with aluminum foil helping me tan. Yes, the old days. For the record, I never had the record in the cover. Plus, I never got a tan, just UV rays!

If Mom was gone and had locked the front door I jumped over the fence into the compost pile, went by the pool to the back garage and kitchen entry doors and changed, then hopped into the pool. Twice a day during study hall.

In winter months when our pool was covered, iced and snowed I just took extra gymnastics classes. Dave Mason, Bad Company, Elton John, the Beatles and compost helped me out those two years. Cheers from a geek teen. Dee

ps The girls and boys never trained or competed together. Before lawsuits became the order of the day, every night of summer when school was out they opened a gymnastics gym for all of us gymnasts so we could learn new tricks. I was never a good gymnast. I was a great Captain for two years, for leadership skills. Even kept my little sister in line, as she questioned everything from warm-up on. In summer we got the super-steamy and stinky wrestlers’ gym with a 4′ mat so we could practice flips.

pps I had a diva, a “ringer” from the gym I taught at, and she aced it at the state championships. She retired to the locker room and said we were all going to take her down. I told her that our team all stood and cheered for her and that if she dons street clothes and leaves now she is no longer on the team to gain her reward. She decided to root for the team. Tough love, seldom, but when there’s a diva….. d

 

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One response to “Compost and Dave Mason

  1. Thanks coach, you let me try to fire her as a peer, and we became friends again. That’s my style.

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