On Sunday, hanging with my brother, he shared a memory I had no recollection of.
We do this, living nearby, while the other 5 don't.
He works on me, and now sometimes, we trade, now that I'm better.
So here is the story: At 21, I rented a big old house on, what else? The Connecticut River, right on it....down a steep wooded hill, and the name of the house was Asgard.
It was in N.H., right over the border from Vermont, where I and all my roommates worked at the Brattleboro Retreat- me in the bookkeeping, the rest of them aides.
The house was all on one floor, it had a kitchen, dining room (depository of extra dirty dishes) and a huge living room, complete with an array of windows overlooking the river, and a huge stone fireplace.
Down one side was a dark hallway, with an enclosed porch, and several bedrooms. There were two couples, one individual, and two good friends up the drive, in a tiny cabin, with their Landrover, that saved us over and over again, on that steep, impassable road, come winter. Here is the memory: He was visiting with my older brother and next younger brother.
They awoke to someone putting on the stereo, loud, The Mahavishnu Orchestra. John McLaughlin.
For this brother, it simply blew him away, hearing this for the very first time,
as he lay in the freezing cold, dark living room, early in the morning
(the 7-3 shift people getting going),
gazing out the window in the dawn across the rushing waters,
feeling the extraordinary nature of that album sink into his being.
He would go on to become a remarkable musician, as my older brother would also,
and he would have three albums relating Chinese Medicine to the music
, and it's impact upon us.
I can't say I remember, but I can picture it,
and slowly, over the days,
my mind fills it in with the things I DO remember. Precious.
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