The Spaces Between Your Fingers

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I interviewed Albert Rappa, my uncle, at my house. He has grey fluffy hair with a matching beard and was a wearing a shirt that read, “Leave the gun, take the cannoli’s.”  He told me a lot of things I didn’t know before about his life as we sat at my wooden dining room table as I probably ingested some of his patchouli scented cologne. This specific memory was just a random tangent in response to, “If you could go back in time what part of your life would you go back to? Why?” He answered after a long pause saying “the first year of my marriage was the best year of my life.” He loved doing things as husband and wife that first year and this was one of the things he mentioned they did on their car ride to Maryland. <br />

Albert is met with a warm breeze as he cranks the window down in his ’65 Chevy Malibu.  Cruising down the highway, he takes his eyes off the road to see Jackie in the passenger seat beside him. A side smile sneaks onto Albert’s face as he watches Jackie’s black, curly hair tussling with the wind as she sits comfortably staring at the passing trees outside.

Their road trip paradise comes to a pause as Albert turns into the parking lot of Maura’s Piano and Organ shop. Albert pushes open the door triggering the bell that announces their arrival. They stroll in walking past the banjos, pianos, ukuleles, and harmonicas and head straight to the back of the shop. They arrive at a wall covered in a multitude of sleek wooden guitars. The reflection of all of the warm-toned woods reveals Albert’s amazed facial expression. Albert reaches for the two-toned black and brown twelve-string guitar he’s been yearning for ever since they stopped in here seven weeks back.

“Back again, Albert? If you show up here one more time we’re gonna start chargin’ you rent.” the clerk says half-jokingly.

Laughing off the comment, Albert’s fingers dance over all twelve strings. He begins strumming the chords when Jackie puts her hand on his shoulder and interrupts.

“Al, you worked your ass off all week. How much money you got in your pocket right now? Let’s buy the damn thing!”

Albert stands up and kisses Jackie gently on her cheek with the beloved twelve-string guitar still in his hand.

She always knows what to say and when to say it, Albert internalizes.

            They exit the building leaving the snarky clerk and the chime of the door’s bell in the dust behind them. With the rev of the engine, Albert glances to his right to find his content wife relaxing in the passenger seat, with her chin resting on her fist. He turns his head further to find the new component to their duo: their very own twelve string guitar. 

Maura’s Piano and Organ shop

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1970s
On the road to Maryland

I interviewed Albert Rappa, my uncle, at my house. He has grey fluffy hair with a matching beard and was a wearing a shirt that read, “Leave the gun, take the cannoli’s.” He told me a lot of things I didn’t know before about his life as we sat at my wooden dining room table as I probably ingested some of his patchouli scented cologne. This specific memory was just a random tangent in response to, “If you could go back in time what part of your life would you go back to? Why?” He answered after a long pause saying “the first year of my marriage was the best year of my life.” He loved doing things as husband and wife that first year and this was one of the things he mentioned they did on their car ride to Maryland.

Tags: love, music, roadtrip
Decade: 1970s
Rating:
Recorded by Katie Innamorato on December 7, 2017
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