I’m driving east on I-94 and listening to Regina Spektor. I don’t hate this music, but this is probably the last time I’m going to listen to it.
I put on something more appropriate. I changed it to the album ‘Harmacy’ by Sebadoh. I’ve had these songs stuck in my head for almost ten years, and I barely ever listen to this cd. It’s not very uplifting for me to hear this, but I love this cd and every once in awhile I find that it’s finally the right time to blow the dust off of the mp3s and hit play. I’m headed to Fargo.
I have an aunt who lives next to Fargo, who I have not seen in many years. She was married to my mother’s brother, and family ties became brittle after they got divorced. When I was a tiny little guy, I thought she was the best. In the interest of not being completely anti-social, and reconnecting with nearly lost family, I called her. I got her current phone number from my mom. It’s been such a long time since we’ve spoken that I was actually nervous to make the call. It took nearly an hour to hit send after keying her number into my phone. I’m not the quickest at working up nerves, but I usually do manage to work them up in the end. I left a message on her machine. When she called back and left me a voice mail, I could see the picture more clearly. Gee whiz! Of course, she was so happy and surprised to hear from me! We met for dinner and talked about most of the stuff that has happened since we last spoke. My sister got married. My pop got retired. I… went to some school… lived in a van. I couldn’t very easily articulate my purpose in life. I usually know a lot of words, but somehow I forgot most of them.
I was happy to reconnect with my aunt. I always thought she was the greatest person, and it made my day much brighter to learn that she is very much the same and that she is happy in life. Fargo was directly in line with my route to the sugar beet harvest. After our late dinner, and a promise to return after the harvest, I continued.
Fifty miles north in a small town surrounded by fields of intense vast openness, I parked and had a horrible time trying to get any sleep. The temperature was in the 60’s with a breeze. There was a light rain, and my rear sliding windows were open to let in the cool air and the sound of the rain falling softly outside. Traffic did not exist. In perfect conditions, I was unable to sleep and I felt a nervous anxiety that had no business haunting me where I was with what I was doing.