I was talking to a neighbor who’d been talking to her neighbor whose backyard has a partial view of ours. She (the second neighbor) was complaining about “that gay couple with the drunken hot tub parties.” Now that could only be us, that is my husband and me. As it happens we are quite unaware that we’re gay and have not attended any, not even one, drunken hot tub party in our own back yard.

We fly the Italian peace flag (“pace” being Italian for “peace”). And we  have a hot tub. She must  think we have modified the rainbow flag with a reminder to pace out our debaucheries. The distressing thing is that while we try to be sociable and really do have a fair number of gatherings here, nobody has invited us to these drunken bashes. Most of our festivities (the ones we’ve attended) are fairly tranquil. Now we’ve drained the hot tub for the summer and where will our fictive friends go? What will they do? What will our neighbor’s neighbor do when all there is to watch in our backyard is zucchini and tomatoes growing and peaches ripening, waiting for squirrels to eat them?

A good and patient, caretaking dog helps in novel writing I believe. Jesse the dog normally sleeps in a small bed by the foot of our bed. But on nights when I’m up late writing, he won’t officially retire with Maurizio, but stations himself in the hall just outside my study. He seems to be sleeping but is ever attentive to certain sounds. The “shut down” Word command, the pushing in of the keyboard tray, my standing and stretching and the apparently particular sound of the chair wheels when this happens.

He’s on his feet by the time I turn out the light and leads me, or so it seems, to the kitchen. He looks in, looks up, ever hopeful. The message, I believe, is that even in our largely vegetarian household I just might feel moved to cook up a large midnight steak and give it to him. Could happen. It never does, but he always stops at the kitchen. He takes me to the front door so he can take  his toilette among the perennials. Then, constantly looking back to make sure I’m following, he leads the way upstairs and to our respective beds. Whether the day’s output was a hundred or a thousand words, or only the polishing of extant phrases, Jesse brings a comforting closure.

I often walk Jesse the Dog on Hiawatha Street, a winding, tree-lined suburban street, not much traveled. On a 15 minute walk a couple cars may pass or none, if it’s early. This is good because Jesse prefers to walk without a leash. Leashes offend his dignity, so I carry one to appease the fair city of Knoxville, but rarely apply it. To the point. Saturday morning, a quiet cool day, about 9 a.m,, only Jesse and I were up and about, Jesse sniffing, me musing on Chapter 8 that I’m writing. I’m normally oblivious to cars makes, but there was a gleaming 1950’s Thunderbird, coral, coming out of Hiawatha. That’s strange. And then an old Cadillac soon after, turquoise. Another 50’s color, sadly gone from modern automotive design. A De Soto sedan. A 1940’s (?) Jaguar, a few convertibles, buffed to a mirror shine. A black and white Oldsmobile, rounded 50’s vintage. A Plymouth. These were not self-propelled, of course, there were people in them, usually a couple. They seemed pretty sure of themselves and there was that whiplash moment of thinking: “Who’s in the wrong time zone here, me or them?”

I happened to come out of work on Gay Street in Knoxville at precisely 4 pm. Crystal blue sky, cool, slight breeze, the blazing emerald green of early spring and the downtown clarion bells were playing an elaborately melodic version of Petula Clark’s 1965 hit, “Downtown,” which I include for its poetic perfection. It really was wonderful to be downtown, even if I had to leave early to walk the dog and do some of that writing stuff.

Downtown

When you’re alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go – downtown
When you’ve got worries, all the noise and the hurry
Seems to help, I know – downtown
Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city
Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty
How can you lose?

The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go downtown, things’ll be great when you’re
Downtown – no finer place, for sure
Downtown – everything’s waiting for you

Don’t hang around and let your problems surround you
There are movie shows – downtown
Maybe you know some little places to go to
Where they never close – downtown
Just listen to the rhythm of a gentle bossa nova
You’ll be dancing with him too before the night is over
Happy again

The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go downtown, where all the lights are bright
Downtown – waiting for you tonight
Downtown – you’re gonna be all right now

[Instrumental break]

And you may find somebody kind to help and understand you
Someone who is just like you and needs a gentle hand to
Guide them along

So maybe I’ll see you there
We can forget all our troubles, forget all our cares
So go downtown, things’ll be great when you’re
Downtown – don’t wait a minute for
Downtown – everything’s waiting for you

Downtown, downtown, downtown, downtown …