Bits of a conversation between strangers becoming acquaintances. by risa
Imagine Nanny stuck in a plastic igloo, half smashed by a tree. And when you
do, think of Atlanta and its falling trees.
Along with your descriptions below of Montreal, I read something you wrote
on your blog about it and the drumming. Beautiful.
Then I got something in the mail from you. Thank you for the bus pass. I
would like to use it. And the language lesson is gorgeous and perfect and I
would like to publish it in our Fall Field Guide. Will you accept? I would
really like to come to Montreal to smell the trees and stumble over French.
It was my duty to learn French when my wife and I went on our honeymoon 10
years ago this fall. We went to south of France and Italy. The first night
there, in France, the waiter walked up and said something in French. I
looked at my wife, clueless. She spoke to him in Italian.
I know un poquito espanol, being from Tampa. And a few phrases in Croatian.
But that’s it. When hearing other people speak another language, I generally
look like a person watching a good movie: blank and entertained.
So – do my kids love where we are? Yes, but they don’t realize it. For a
strange spell, we lived out in the burbs to avoid high housing costs, and
our children loved the cleanliness of it, the accessible pools, the
thousands of kids. We hated it and moved intown, and our kids are actually
getting an education and finding out what it means to live. But the change
has thrown them, even though they’ve settled in beyond fine, and they have
convinced themselves that suburbia is Mecca. We laugh at their thoughts.
They’re children.
We have a long and almost spectacular fall here in ATL. It’s funny (or not)
– we used to plan our trips to the mountains, big tree-covered
3,000-foot-high hills essentially, that are 2 hours north, every October to
see the leaves change. But that was like 5 years ago. Now, the leaves don’t
change until end of October, early November.
When you ask people their favorite season here in ATL, it depends on the
season you ask it. In the spring, people love the spring beyond compare (and
it is quite magnificent and inspiring). In the fall, it’s the fall and
apples and football games and baseball and keg parties and burning leaves.
Just a side note: In order to get some “work” done, I left my house and went
up to the street to a wireless pub (beer, email) where a karaoke show
started after I arrived. Right now, there’s a guy singing “I’ve Got Friends
In Low Places” and everyone in the bar is singing along with him. Except me.
Now, a guy is singing Elvis. It’s a prelude to our Elvis Death Day
celebrations.
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