I don’t believe I had heard of Diunna Greenleaf until I walked into San Jose’s Greaseland Studios last Monday, one week ago and kissed her cheek. I might have been my first kiss, exceptin’ my wife and my hound since before the bad times. It was her birthday, I also bought her flowers from a nearby CVS and a book on the history of Santa Clara County, that had a band on the cover, circa 1900.

Terry asked me to drive her to the clinic to get the Phizer booster. I didn’t realize we were going to San Jose, to the Stanford clinic near Good Sam until we were turning the car around in the driveway.

We got there about 40 minutes early and rather than idling in the lot I decided I’d look for a coffee shop. But then it hit me that we were near Greaseland, Kid Andersen’s secret locale where more than 100 blues sessions have been cut, to quite an effect.

I went by Wells, withdrew a handfull of bills, like a Michigan bandroll by way of South Side of Chicago by way of Downtown North Palo Alto — land of unicorns – and said “let’s do Palo Alto on Thursday”.

The rest is her story.