summer 1973 - fly, me, carter, anna and carl, from england to new york. daddy picks us up there and drives us to houston. meet brother aaron freshly born. then, in an opal station wagon and big orange fifties ford pick-up pulling a u-haul, we move daddy to new york state. arranging such a summer of fun is typical of daddy's genius.
"what you gonna do for your summer, john?"
"oh, i'm gonna drive six kids, one of 'em newborn, around the country in junky, breaking down cars staying the eight of us in one motel room."
course i've been living in momma's crazy-ass commune so none of this seems unusual to me.
played marcus garvey park yesterday with the beautiful starlight for a throng of maybe twelve. i can remember a time not so distant when quin playing out in the open in that part of harlem would've seemed sort an unlikely proposition. find lost cat on way home - rosita her collar says but i can't read the phone number... if you have lost a little balck and white kitty named rosita then call me.
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