St. Patrick's Day Twenty-Ten

It was a gorgeous day starting out like several other recent spring mornings. Nothing but sunshine, the greenage sprouting up all around, blue sky and it was St. Patrick's Day TwentyTen. My first task of the day was to get over to Washington Writer's Academy in Kalamazoo, where Mary works, to read to a group of 4 year olds in the PEEP pre-school room. It had been a while since I had done something like this in my retired state so I was looking forward to it. When I arrived the kids were all over the room having playtime and it was pajama day so that added more to the informality. Many were of course very interested in Mrs. Symon's' husband, Mr. Symons. As they settled down on the rug and I told them I used to be a principal they quieted down pretty well. I read them one story about the sun, moon, the wind, tides called What is the Sun? and then I read them a brief ditty about Leprechauns and their shenanigans. I happened to have one in me pocket to show them too. I read with the Irish accent for the occasion. We all survived unscathed and I left to the sounds of " thank you Mr. Symons" coming from the wee little ones in their portable classroom. Thanks Erin and Mary for the opportunity.

Leaving there I was in pretty good spirits not knowing for sure what the afternoon held but excited about sitting in with Melvis out at the Barking Frog in Augusta where he had taken a last minute gig for the night. After I was home making some lunch I got a call from friend Kelly letting me know that Uncle Jim had passed that morning. He has been referred to in my blog as Jimmy C. at various times since I started writing the blog reporting on outings and misadventures with him. James Claflin was indeed special, kind like his brother, sweet like many of the Claflin clan but his curled up mustache gave away that there may be some mischief hiding behind that smile. He was a man with many lives and he filled all of them. He was determined to get everything he could out of his time and I believe he did. It wasn't easy for him and those who helped to care for him to watch at times but he made it fun and interesting at the same time. I got to know him much better since he moved here from Chicago two years ago after his wife had passed. The only sympathy card I received in the mail after the recent passing of my step-father was from Jimmy C., barely having the strength to sign his name. That was how and who he was. Old school with a flair for the cool and conversation. I would spend my afternoon making calls and listening to Irish laments in the backyard sun. A glass of Scotch was my first toast to my soul brother Jimmy C.

Mary got home and I had to tell her the news, she loved Jimmy because he was thoughtful to women. He knew how to make them feel special and good about themselves. We reminisced that after Jim first moved here to Lake Doster, Mary and I had dinner with him there at the club and the two of them danced at a St. Patrick's party they were having.
This St. Patrick's Day dinner was to be out at the Frog in Augusta. So for the rest of the night as friends Martay,Rebecca, Nealem, Jazzy Jeff, and Lucinda joined us we celebrated life with the musical stylings of Melvis Lane and guests.

We toasted to Jim, we roasted each other and hepped ole Melvis out with percussive sounds, harmonica, saxophone and voices in the night, a night of the new moon.

Play on Brothers, Sing on Sisters, the way all the Jimmy's, Robin's, Billy's, Harry's, Paul's, Busters, Bobby's, Martha's and Lincoln's would want us to, play-long into the sweet days and nights of spring.