A couple weeks ago my gaggle of geese and I got to go up to the Air Force Academy with my parents and youngest siblings and go see all the retired airplanes that have so much in common with my Dad. It was mighty fun! But then we drove down to see the chapel and learned what fun REALLY is!
My dear sweet sister, Bren: "What's that big round building next to it?"
Mom: "That's the observatory!"
Bren: "OH! So that's where they like... watch and MAKE SURE you got married!"
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Fireworks
Remember way back when we were all little and could lay around memorial park and watch the fireworks falling and get little embers falling on your face and there was no band?! You could smell the gunpowder and hear the fireworks crackling and all the little sighs of people saying their "oohs" and "ahhs." I used to lay there and think how super romantic to cuddle up with my darling someday and watch the fireworks go off. It was so other-worldly and beautiful.
And then all of the sudden one year, the Soussa marches started and instead of waiting in breathless anticipation for the next firework and being suprised and charmed, they started going off exactly when the cymbals did and in strict accordance to 4/4 time.
Sometimes the prettiest music is just around you. Not something contrived and superimposed upon your ears as loudly and brashly and oompa-loompa-y as possible. If you want music during fireworks, really, wouldn't it be someone softly singing your favorite song in your ear after the last one goes off and you've had a few moments of silently just enjoying being exactly where you are.
I know a LOT of people really like the band. I'm not asking to go back. It just kind of ruined for me. So I'll let you all snuggle under the colorful burning falling stars and make your wishes and dream your dreams. ...if you can think through all the noise.
And while things change and I don't want to go watch them near the band, I'm not bitter. My house, in all its beautiful perfect-for-me-ness overlooks the entire mountain range and I'll get to see all the displays from it. And instead of silently dreaming of the future, I'll stand there with it holding my hand and resting it's head on my shoulder and squealing about how pretty it all is and then come in and hum their favorite songs into their perfect little ears and lay their dozy-headed little selves into bed and sit outside their doors listening to my favorite post fire-work silences ever. Them SLEEPING.
And then all of the sudden one year, the Soussa marches started and instead of waiting in breathless anticipation for the next firework and being suprised and charmed, they started going off exactly when the cymbals did and in strict accordance to 4/4 time.
Sometimes the prettiest music is just around you. Not something contrived and superimposed upon your ears as loudly and brashly and oompa-loompa-y as possible. If you want music during fireworks, really, wouldn't it be someone softly singing your favorite song in your ear after the last one goes off and you've had a few moments of silently just enjoying being exactly where you are.
I know a LOT of people really like the band. I'm not asking to go back. It just kind of ruined for me. So I'll let you all snuggle under the colorful burning falling stars and make your wishes and dream your dreams. ...if you can think through all the noise.
And while things change and I don't want to go watch them near the band, I'm not bitter. My house, in all its beautiful perfect-for-me-ness overlooks the entire mountain range and I'll get to see all the displays from it. And instead of silently dreaming of the future, I'll stand there with it holding my hand and resting it's head on my shoulder and squealing about how pretty it all is and then come in and hum their favorite songs into their perfect little ears and lay their dozy-headed little selves into bed and sit outside their doors listening to my favorite post fire-work silences ever. Them SLEEPING.
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