Best of my Love

Chapter Fifteen

The next few weeks were not very eventful, but something in me said that something big was about to happen. 

October seemed to come in like a train and I didn't know what to do. I began getting homesick in a terrible way and I didn't want Don to know how I truly felt. 

We had just moved into a little house way up at the top of Laurel Canyon. We had to go all the way up Kirkwood Drive, make a hard left on Grand View Drive, then a hard right on Cole Crest Drive. It was one of those houses that hung suspended off hillside and was held up by stilts. 

When the Santa Ana winds would whip through the canyon, the house would sway in a very unsettling way. Don and I were told that it was meant to do that. 

Roger McGuinn, the leader of the Byrds, had formerly lived there. So it had alright vibes and hideous orange shag carpet. What could I have wanted more in my first house?

Jackson found an old upright piano that we somehow got in the house. It sat against the wall not far from the kitchen. Once we got it tuned up, Don would play Stephen Foster songs on it. He would tell stories about his grandmother. She would sit in her rocking chair and sing songs like Oh! Susanna or Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair.

Then he would stare off into space for a while and start to play a chord progression he said he had been carrying around since the late sixties. He never knew what to do with it. 

"Why don't you ask Glenn?" I asked one day. "He knows a lot about music, maybe he could help you."

Glenn was a child of Motown, but knew everything about any kind of music you could think of: rockabilly, classic R&B, Muscle Shoals, jazz, folk, the Bakersfield sound. He knew what you were talking about as long as you were talking about music. 

He came up to the house at 2 A.M. one night because the record company had called saying that they needed to start another record. 

"We're not some top forty hit machine, they do know that right?" Don asked, the aggravation of being woken up so early in the morning lacing his tone. 

"I don't know, but I think that this is a way we can solidify ourselves as a serious band." He insisted. 

"How?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

October 9th was Jackson's birthday. Because he didn't want anyone over on a Monday night, we were getting together the day after.

I was over at J.D. and Linda's house waiting for Don and Glenn to leave a writing session with the band. 

J.D. had left early for some reason and was playing his guitar on the couch while Linda and I talked in the kitchen. 

"I'm thinking about getting a job." I said. 

"Really? Where at?"

"I was thinking Tana's or the bar at the Troubadour- 'cause, ya know, it's where we all are always at."

"Nice." She smiled. 

"Yeah." I nodded. "I worked in a restaurant when I lived with James. I thought since I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, I should at least have something to do when you guys are gone."

"Are the guys going on tour again?" She asked, taking a sip of water out of her glass. 

"Oh no,"

"No?"

"No, I was just thinking ahead after you told me about the Neil Young tour."

"Oh, that nightmare." She laughed, looking to the living room.