I got today off of work, which is lovely. It’s also faintly frustrating, because I don’t really have enough leave to take this off with vacation time. I’m taking LWOP, which is a non-guaranteed leave, and isn’t granted ahead of time. So I couldn’t pre-plan this and, say, stay in Chicago overnight with my old friends and fly back today.
But I do have today off, so we have plans to go to the Y and also to clean the office, as well as walking the dogs. At the moment J is taking K to her choir practice, and M and I are watching a MegaMachines episode about the Ekarti Diamond Mine. M loves this series.
Oh, I just got a call from J that she got a flat tire on the way to Unity Church. So perhaps no choir today.
My flights to and from Chicago were good, albeit crowded. I may ask to sit in the window emergency exit row every time I fly alone. Car rental went smoothly, once I figured out where to go to do it. I was inordinately pleased to spend the drive to and from Aurora listening to the all-Spanish-language pop stations, which we don’t have here in the Twin Cities.
Scott’s memorial was . . . It was the recreation of what Club Pseudo looks like in our memories. It was people bringing their best in honor of the dead, and in deep respect for the living. There was absolutely no doubt that everyone wanted Scott’s family to know that he changed lives, and is missed.
It was fascinating to see the depth of talent now-matured. People twenty years older, at the mid-point of careers. Fascinating to see adolescent passion pursued until it is now part of the performers’ everyday lives — just a job, thanks. Performing at Pseudo took the daily mundane use of talent and transformed it into gifts. Gifts of talent and service and humor. I remember, we used to be told — all the time, it seemed, at every convocation or ceremony — that we were the Leaders of Tomorrow. And while the intention was that we would lead in science, math, and engineering, it seems that the school’s vision was overly-narrow. The arts and letters are well-represented among graduates of IMSA.
It was good to see everyone again. Even the people I had trouble placing or remembering — that’s my fault, not any of yours. It was truly good.
Filed under: Autobiography | Tagged: imsa, scott swanson | 4 Comments »
