 It's not like we don't have these things where we live; it's the
sheer abundance of them in the city that is so amazing to them.I
didn't know that they could be amazed and bored at the same time,
however. It seems to happen only when there isn't a computer screen
or a TV nearby to distract them from their amazement.
Boredom causes strange things to happen. Some might say that
strange can be good, but my children would deny that to their dying
day.
At one point on our trip to the city, one of them had a leftover
Christmas song stuck in their head. This song is all about what
someone's true love gave them for Christmas.
Modern-day economists like to suck all the joy out of this song
by tallying up what such gifts as six geese a-laying and five golden
rings might cost in today's market. As if anyone would want to give
up their bathtub to seven -- count 'em, seven -- swans a-swimming,
even if it was the thought that counts.
As far as I know, some of these gifts given by the anonymous true
love are more like events that could happen randomly if you were in
the right place at the right time. For example, there is no way to
give a person a live partridge in a live pear tree unless you
happened upon one on your daily stroll through the pear orchard.
Or perhaps you attended the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and
videotaped all the drummers drumming and pipers piping (which surely
totaled more than 11 or 12) and gave the tape to your true love.
However, the only time you might witness 10 lords a-leaping is if
someone set Parliament on fire. So it goes without saying that the
traditional gifts one gives to one's love on Christmas have changed.
This doesn't keep people, including my children, from updating
(some might say butchering) the song by changing the gifts to things
that make sense in this century.
If going to the city was a spectacular event for them, you can
understand why they might be moved to capture the experience in a
song commemorating all the "gifts" they were given during this
event.
Of course, we must remember that without "boredom," this song
never would have happened.
10. Green lights --
I was whining about the red lights we kept hitting, so every green
light was a blessing.
9. Taxicabs --
Taxis are rare where we live. My children always thought they were a
myth.
[to top of second column] |
 8. Garbage cans --
Apparently we have a scarcity of garbage cans in our town, because
my kids thought the fact that there was a receptacle for trash on
every corner was outstanding. If only city dwellers would use them.
7. Surly bums --
This one wasn't a positive aspect of the city, merely an observation
that when one was spotted, they almost always looked angry unless
they were asking you for money. We did not judge, but there was a
lively discussion about the adjective that should be used here.
"Surly" won because it sounded… awesome!
6. Chinese
restaurants -- Obviously my children like Chinese buffets. Including
them in the song was simply an effort to remind me, often, where
they wanted to eat dinner that night.
5. Tall buildings
-- This was the easy one they chose for the part of the song that
crescendoes to enthusiastic, off-key chaos.
4. Stop signs --
Where there wasn't a red light, there was a stop sign.
3. Matchbox cars --
My youngest boy was getting fidgety and was thrilled to realize that
I had brought these in the event that he should become so.
2. Fuzzy puppies --
These were being walked by a harassed young lady who was trying to
keep them from tripping anybody. The puppies were decidedly not
fuzzy, being possible descendants of naked mole rats, but my
children needed an adjective with two syllables.
1. A baby in a car
seat -- Said baby smiled at my daughter from a car in the next lane.
She said the baby deserved to be No. 1. Can't argue with that!
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist,
author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more info. |
