intermediate

“Mama said there’ll be days like this, There’ll be days like this my mama said (Mama said, mama said). Mama said there’ll be days like this, There’ll be days like this my mama said.”

I woke up this morning with the feeling there’s days like this. The above song, by The Shirelles, came to mind. Soundtrack for this Tuesday. A song released back there in 1961, when I was a sprite 12-year-old running through the backyards of the houses on my street, finishing up a two-year stint at the brick Intermediate School, to which I could walk via Morse Ave in about eight minutes. Where the special needs students passed like spectors in the basement, shadows of things we didn’t get, sometimes joked about. I’d like to think I wasn’t much of a joker in that regard.

I have a job interview today, two and a half hours from now, if I can find a building somewhere up off the 15. The 15 was the expressway I took to go hang with the San Marcos kids, a Down syndrome married duo, a year and a half ago. They’d of been down there in the Intermediate basement. My interview today is for vocational support at job sites for more of those mostly out-of-sight ghosts. Tra-la-la.

Things change, and some stuff doesn’t. I’ve got a 30-year-old, in Idaho, who woulda been down there too.

Maybe just remembering these things is what a day like this is for. Empty-mind, remembering-mind.