A Saturday in September
It was the perfect Saturday morning for driving. My sister and I flew beside Lake Michigan with the wind whipping through our hair and the radio blaring songs from 1992 (junior year of high school, when I was cool enough to wear doc martens and loser enough to date a freshman). We smoked cigarettes and sang along with the Lemonheads and the Cure and Meryn Cadell at the top of our lungs, gesturing for truckers to honk their air horns, laughing like maniacs when they did.
It was the perfect Saturday afternoon for football. 75 sunny degrees. 80,000 jubilant fans on their feet, showering adoration on the home team. Touchdown after touchdown, the frenzy gained speed. We never wanted to stop cheering. The wave rolled around the stadium again and again without stopping. A second wave started in the opposite direction, and they crossed and re-crossed beneath the approving gaze and upstretched arms of Jesus Himself. As time ticked down, the joy of the crowd swelled and spilled over the edge of the stadium like liquid, carrying us home.
It was the perfect Saturday night for music. The four of us, the four who've been together since the beginning, stood out in the clear night air listening to the soundtrack of my father's youth. In the barn, there were new puppies. Beside my brother, a bride. On the old 8 track, Crosby Stills and Nash sang about teaching children well, and my father smiled. Just look at them and sigh and know they love you.
It was the perfect Saturday.
Crosby Stills & Nash "Teach Your Children"
The Lemonheads "Mrs. Robinson"
Wendi answers the question, "WWJD?"
It was the perfect Saturday afternoon for football. 75 sunny degrees. 80,000 jubilant fans on their feet, showering adoration on the home team. Touchdown after touchdown, the frenzy gained speed. We never wanted to stop cheering. The wave rolled around the stadium again and again without stopping. A second wave started in the opposite direction, and they crossed and re-crossed beneath the approving gaze and upstretched arms of Jesus Himself. As time ticked down, the joy of the crowd swelled and spilled over the edge of the stadium like liquid, carrying us home.
It was the perfect Saturday night for music. The four of us, the four who've been together since the beginning, stood out in the clear night air listening to the soundtrack of my father's youth. In the barn, there were new puppies. Beside my brother, a bride. On the old 8 track, Crosby Stills and Nash sang about teaching children well, and my father smiled. Just look at them and sigh and know they love you.
It was the perfect Saturday.
Crosby Stills & Nash "Teach Your Children"
The Lemonheads "Mrs. Robinson"
Wendi answers the question, "WWJD?"
Tequila Red called it a day @ 3:44 PM
Email This
