Nothing exciting happens in Grover's Corners
Emily: Does anybody realize what life is while they're living it?
Stage Manager: No. Saints and poets, maybe. They do some.
-- Our Town
Well, James Lileks is a poet:
It’s quite remarkable, the scene outside Gnat’s summer school; the throngs of kids, the happy teen teachers, the endless train of SUVs moving through the clotted streets to pick up kids, the flow of moms in and moms out. You never see a crying kid; everyone’s in a merry mood, hot and beat but happy to see Mom. (Or the rare Dad.) It was overwhelming the first time I went; now I show up early to get a good parking space, have a small cigar and listen to the radio. And today, out of nowhere, I thought: Beslan.
It was a quote from a grieving mother that stayed with me: We never knew how happy we really were. You get caught up in the logistics and time tables – got to get her home by noon so she can have lunch (the sandwich, apple slices, gummi vitamin, milk – please, finish your milk, why is this so hard) and get off to the next class, and it just FIGURES that it’s not long enough to get your oil changed, it just FIGURES.
You can live in that fugue state of annoyance and obligation, or you can relax and enjoy. (And be late for the rest of the day.) I am relaxing and enjoying; I am making this summer last as long as I can, because it’s the last of its kind. Some year there will be a summer where she’s big and busy and the dog is gone and some unforeseen sadness will drape over the month like a wet tarp, and the utter ordinariness of these days will seem like some lost perfect paradise.
Stage Manager: No. Saints and poets, maybe. They do some.
-- Our Town
Well, James Lileks is a poet:
It’s quite remarkable, the scene outside Gnat’s summer school; the throngs of kids, the happy teen teachers, the endless train of SUVs moving through the clotted streets to pick up kids, the flow of moms in and moms out. You never see a crying kid; everyone’s in a merry mood, hot and beat but happy to see Mom. (Or the rare Dad.) It was overwhelming the first time I went; now I show up early to get a good parking space, have a small cigar and listen to the radio. And today, out of nowhere, I thought: Beslan.
It was a quote from a grieving mother that stayed with me: We never knew how happy we really were. You get caught up in the logistics and time tables – got to get her home by noon so she can have lunch (the sandwich, apple slices, gummi vitamin, milk – please, finish your milk, why is this so hard) and get off to the next class, and it just FIGURES that it’s not long enough to get your oil changed, it just FIGURES.
You can live in that fugue state of annoyance and obligation, or you can relax and enjoy. (And be late for the rest of the day.) I am relaxing and enjoying; I am making this summer last as long as I can, because it’s the last of its kind. Some year there will be a summer where she’s big and busy and the dog is gone and some unforeseen sadness will drape over the month like a wet tarp, and the utter ordinariness of these days will seem like some lost perfect paradise.
posted by Kate Marie | 3:53 AM | Permalink
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