Two competing imageries vie for an overall conceptualization of the trip thus far - on the first day of the third week; grab bag and the accordion. Go to a garage sale on a Saturday in a small town and find the grab bag section. $1 maybe, a grab. Pay up - reach in and who knows what you will get of the good, bad, useful, useless. May come away with a tool forgotten or a key that’ll open a chest somewhere with untold riches within that have been passed over by the rushing horde you and they are. May cut a finger on a rusty blade, or may draw a blank - just pick up more weight to pull up the next hill while asking yourself, “Why did I do that? Didn’t need anything.” Or buy an accordion at that garage sale, though you would probably have to be in south Louisiana - Mamou or Eunice, maybe - to have that choice. Take it out of the case - where it’s all squashed up - stretch it, sucking in some air, then compress it, then back and forth while hitting on keys randomly. High notes, low notes, sweet, sour, short and long. You’ll get all the sounds, many unanticipated, many pleasant and not so. A cacophony, if this done fast - an uncoordinated one, full of musical pain and surprises. Imagine the compressed instrument as the ride conceptualized and the notes as the elements released.
Combining grab bag and accordion may get the picture done.
Pat Sewell
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