coming home

“Sitting in a park in Paris, France,

Reading the news, it sure looks bad.

They won’t give peace a chance,

That was just a dream some of us had.

Still a lot of lands to see,

But I wouldn’t want to stay here.

It’s too old and cold and settled in its ways here.

California, I’m coming home.

I’m going to see the folks I dig…..

California I’m coming home.”

Joni Mitchell

When I was fifteen, way back in 1970, I came to Europe for the summer. I was forced to come, actually. Shipped off with my twelve year old sister, a list of phone numbers of people my parents knew who were living here (mostly who were working for IBM) , a jar of valium (for jet lag, my mother said), all my life savings, and Joni’s new album (for comfort) in hand. The last thing I wanted to do in the summer of 1970 was be in Europe.

Janis was still alive and my best friend’s older brother was always willing to drive us to the city to go to the Fillmore West or Winterland. It was my own money I had to use, money I had been saving for years for my longed-for escape from my family. Plus, I knew that the last thing my parent’s “friends” would appreciate would be a teenager and young adolescent descending on them. Nevertheless, we were taken in, and we traversed ourselves from England to Belgium to Germany to Switzerland to France and back home again. Every stop, I would set up my suitcase in altar like fashion with Joni’s Blue album tucked into the opened top.

This story has made even seasoned therapists blanch, although it’s one that is best told in detail with my sister telling her own version. She felt she was on a marvelous adventure. My memories are all colored with Joni’s longing to be back in California.

I’m now waiting in the airport in Paris. Tomorrow, we will be home. It’s been a wonderful trip, a truly marvelous adventure. I added my lipsticked kiss to the thousands covering Oscar Wilde’s tomb. I walked out of a romantic and delicious meal in a jewel box of a restaurant and looked up to the Eiffel Tower just coming alive with light. And yet, once again, the soundtrack in my head is all from the Blue album. Unfortunately, the part about the bad news still rings true, peace still is just a dream. But, I’m still ready to come home. I want to see the folks I dig….

California, I’m coming home.