Last night was not restful; I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I’m running on about two hours of rest and 2 pots of coffee. I’d hoped to get a nap in this morning, but the contractors were up bright and early, sawing and pounding as they replaced our back porch. I retreated to my usual refuge, the Diesel, where I’m inhaling coffee. I don’t feel that bad, for all that.

My mother in law is coming for a visit next week, so Varia and I hired a Zipcar for a few hours and dashed off to Target to pick up bedding and other sundry goods. Amazingly, they were playing our song on the radio.

I should explain about our song. When we were first together, traveling from Indiana to Texas, we realized that we didn’t have an “our song” and felt this was bad form. So we picked something that wasn’t likely to get played on the radio all that often. We ought to have picked something like Stockhausen’s Stimmung (or the Bartok inexplicably playing in the cafe), but we instead chose something almost as plausible, what was on the air at the time as we drove through Arkansas or wherever, Peter Frampton’s “Do You Feel Like I Do.” The full 16 minute version, mind; the short version where they cut away before the solo doesn’t count.

I don’t think I’ve heard “Do You Feel Like I Do?” since then, so it was a bit of a surprise when Frampton came alive.