So I was thinking about how my desire to meet Pete Seeger was wrapped up in wanting to give him copies of my two newest CD’s; and that, in my head, I entertained these fantasies about just having a chance to hang out and talk music with him, or maybe even break out the guitars (or his signature banjo) and play a few tunes together.  And I considered the possibility (and the likelihood) that part of this was all wrapped up in Pete serving as something of a surrogate father (and grandfather) figure in my head and heart. 

At the same time, I was feeling less and less comfortable with the audaciousness of my initial impulses.  Who the hell did I think I was, after all?!? The man didn’t know me from Adam! And so it was, come Tuesday morning, that while talking with Mr. Seeger on the phone, I was more than happy when he gave me an address whereby I might send him my CD’s.

“I have to tell you that I have a pile of about 50 CD’s from folk who want me to listen to them, and I aim to listen to all of them,” he told me.

“I understand and appreciate that,  Mr.  Seeger.  I would just be very pleased if I could add mine to that pile.”

He asked me my name again.  Then he spelled out my last name, to make sure he had it right.  I told him he had it just right, and for some reason he chuckled a bit at that. 

As adventures go, this is a somewhat small and benign one.  I will be mailing off those CD’s this week, along with a cover letter, providing a bit more of an introduction to both me and my music.  I hope to make said cover letter reasonably short, and hopefully entertaining enough that I will elicit another chuckle, rather than be regarded as a nuisance.  And I still hold on to the hope that someday, I might be able to shake the hand of this man, smile, and tell him how genuinely pleased I am to make his acquaintance.

And with that, Pony and I grabbed a bit of breakfast at the I-84 Diner (near Fishkill), packed up the RV, and had a pleasant and relatively short trip back to Jefferson Township and the Mahlon Dickerson Reservation, in New Jersey.  Rufus was extremely excited to get back to a familiar place, acting as if we had come home.  And Pony and I felt a bit like that, as well.


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