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susanstinsonYou, dear lj, I know, are a wayward bunch -- outlaws, queers, artists, cheesy old punks, proud fat girls, people still in your twenties, organizers, renegades of all sorts. Me, I'm pretty much a rule-abider, except the ones I break, and I usually do that so discretely that it's as if it didn't happen or so blatantly and habitually that it becomes clear that those weren't really rules at all, but more antiquated or misplaced guidelines truly best ignored.
Mostly, I don't do things like walk on the grass if there is a sign saying not to. But tonight, I rode my trike to Look Park to sit on the grass with dear ones and listen to The Mammals without buying a ticket. We ate burritos, even though individual picnics are not allowed. I had a lemonade. When we got to told to move, I worried, it's true, but we found a spot to sit near the track with the little red train that kids ride, and I sat just past the sign that said "Concert Zone," and they sat a bit closer, in the forbidden area, and the music was so good, banjos and fiddles and "may I never become indifferent to violence, to war," in Spanish from Tao Rodriguez, Pete Seeger's grandson. I was happy.
E. will be here soon, but she drove home to get stuff for tomorrow, and I rode my trike down the nearly empty bike path in the nearly cool near dark. I had a blue bottle of water with me, and, for the first time, alone there on the leafy path, I didn't stop when I reached back and got it out of the basket, but let my front wheel wobble like it does without my hands on the handle bars and opened it and drank, still rolling, rich with wind and late birds.
Mostly, I don't do things like walk on the grass if there is a sign saying not to. But tonight, I rode my trike to Look Park to sit on the grass with dear ones and listen to The Mammals without buying a ticket. We ate burritos, even though individual picnics are not allowed. I had a lemonade. When we got to told to move, I worried, it's true, but we found a spot to sit near the track with the little red train that kids ride, and I sat just past the sign that said "Concert Zone," and they sat a bit closer, in the forbidden area, and the music was so good, banjos and fiddles and "may I never become indifferent to violence, to war," in Spanish from Tao Rodriguez, Pete Seeger's grandson. I was happy.
E. will be here soon, but she drove home to get stuff for tomorrow, and I rode my trike down the nearly empty bike path in the nearly cool near dark. I had a blue bottle of water with me, and, for the first time, alone there on the leafy path, I didn't stop when I reached back and got it out of the basket, but let my front wheel wobble like it does without my hands on the handle bars and opened it and drank, still rolling, rich with wind and late birds.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-04 02:08 am (UTC)que la guerra no me sea indiferente
es un monstruo grande y pisa fuerte
toda la pobre inocencia de la gente...
For all my lack of faith in a higher entity, I love this song.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-04 05:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-04 06:01 pm (UTC)i wish we could bring our trikes...
xoxo
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-04 06:08 pm (UTC)It's true, I'm fretting about missing my trike.