impossible dream

When I was four my mother took me to a college production of Man of La Mancha. Never imagining I would fully understand the upsetting bits she ended up carrying me from the auditorium bawling. So began (or solidified) my theatrical bent and empathetic support of the underdog. "The Impossible Dream" has been part of my psyche and unconscious mantra ever since. No wonder I cry every time I hear it or get misty when someone mentions Glenn Gould.

I was a little nervous when they announced on the Morning Show (MPR) they would be playing a different take on the song by Ken Boothe. First I heard the Reggae beat, my trepidation increased, I heard the first lines, predictably began tearing, still leery, then thank my stars I wasn't the one driving as I would have had to pull over. As moved as I normally am by the song it was nothing to my pregnant reaction, emotions rallied as never before, to hearing this new version. All who wish me ill now know my kryptonite.

Fourth

I have fond memories of the Fourth of July as a child: going out to the golf corse, my little brother falling asleep on the same picnic blanket every year and staying up with my mom to watch the fireworks. We weren't just watching fireworks: we were describing our world, trying to devise the perfect name for each one. There were easy ones like popcorn and the slightly more interesting blueberry cobbler and prom dress and my favorites screaming yellow zonkers and fizzing mimis.

It wasn't just fireworks; my mom helped me capture sunsets. When I was older I switched dance studios and my lessons took us from our small town to the next following the sunset. They were all so beautiful I wouldn't want to go inside for my lesson. So the ride there was filled with descriptive phrases my mom would copy down while she waited to drive me home again.

I see now how vital it was for her to keep her hand in writing/describing everything from fireworks to family vacations, but I reaped the benefits of closely observing my world and solidifying each precious moment by our descriptions. At the same time never losing the wonder and awe that I could never encompass or remember it all. Eventually, I saw the value in that lesson, too.