“Purple Haze all in my brain,

Lately things they don’t seem the same.

Actin’ funny but I don’t know why.

‘Scuse me, while I kiss the sky”

Jimi Hendrix

 

Where is Joe?

Why did he leave me here all alone?

Well, I am not alone really, I know these people.

But I don’t really know these people.

I am scared.

I sit in the sanctuary of this corner that seems like it is miles away from the door.

But it is only feet.

And I would never make it even if I tried.

Those in the room speak to me but I can’t talk back.

I open my mouth but no sounds come out.

They start to talk about me but I can’t defend myself or offer an explanation, not that I understood what was going on myself.

Like someone in a coma maybe,  I hear but I am unable to speak.

Then I give up.

I will just wait for my friend to return.

After what seems like an eternity the door opens, it is my friend.

The fear disappears from my face and my body is alive again.

A smile returns.

“Joe,” I said loudly.

 

Fast forward almost fifty years.

Today the Purple Carrot was left on my doorstep.

The Purple Carrot.

Conjuring up days of future passed; thoughts of Orange Barrels, Purple Haze, and Yellow Sunshine weaved their way through and mixed with the colored carrot.  Maybe I should  play “White Rabbit” by the Airplane or put on Electric Ladyland.

No, this is different.

There is no need to be paranoid (I think?).

I am safely in my later middle age; safe in my backyard and in my garden doing adult things like spreading mulch.

“Honey, dinner in five minutes,” my wife yells from the deck.

Tonight will be my first experience being turned on to the Purple Carrot, my wife’s new plant-based meal service delivered right to my doorstep.

Oh boy!

Roasted Sweet Potato Tacos with Caramelized Pineapple and Chipotle Ranch.

If someone told me back in 1971:

“Hey man, I see a Roasted Sweet Potato Taco with Caramelized Pineapple and Chipotle Ranch in your future many years from now…”

I would have said “Far out man… and I suppose I ordered that taco on my handheld wireless telephone and had it delivered to my doorstep.  You must be hallucinating…sweet potato tacos…chipotle…what is chipotle anyway?”

I don’t think my good friend Joe was a vegan but he did have a passion for growing vegetables.  In fact, at his memorial, I met three nice ladies who were his neighbors who referred to him as “Veggie Joe” because he would always leave care packages of vegetables from his garden on their doorsteps.  After the memorial, we divvied up some of Joe’s collection of seeds amongst our group of close friends.  I am hoping to mix some Veggie Joe ’s tomatoes and cucumbers with my Purple Carrots sometime this summer.

 

Like so many years ago in that place somewhere in my brain, I don’t know why he left me and the rest of us, but this time I am not scared and I don’t feel alone and I know where he is.  And when I see him the next time I expect I will again smile and say loudly “Joe.”

For now, I will eat my Purple Carrot and hope that the Caps don’t have a third period like they did in that second game that might hasten my demise.

Next up…Scallion Zucchini Noodle Cake with Tamarind Butter and Asparagus.

Oh boy!

‘Scuse me while I kiss the sky!