For one thing, I went to the symphony at Walt Disney Music Hall yesterday, and when we sang the National Anthem, I was caught a bit off guard - we sing the National Anthem at the symphony now? - and started in WAY too high a key... but I must say, I only missed one note. Yay for nasal voice!
Also notable, I was a bit surprised, I must say, at my instantaneous reaction to look for a flag when we started singing... before I even realized we were singing. It was a bit weird. I guess I really do belong in the DAR... call me une Patriote!
Today, dinner and company were great, and I ate a bunch of vegetables, so that was good. And also, this was observed:
And, I guess I should consider myself lucky, really, because, 1) that HAMDOG ("she loooook like a hhhhhhham") is wearing a bikini top and a hula skirt, I mean, GOOD GOD, and B) because I did get to see probably about what Francis Scott Key saw (no, I’m not linking him, if you don’t know who he is, stop reading NOW, derwood). There was a lot of rocket’s red glare (thanks to the marine layer), but not so many bombs bursting in air, unfortunately.
LAST year was awesome, though, so let’s relive that:
So, there was a kitchen DISASTER while painting (in preparation for a
friend’s visit -ed) (no one was injured - although I did hit my thumb
kinda hard- and all my nails are broken) ... and I was all hot and
sweaty... and the cat wouldn't shut up... and I hadn't eaten all day...
and I was about to say, fuck it ... I’m blowing off the beach.
I’m so glad I didn't!
I got on Cricket and rode down Sunset, which is a great ride. As I got on Temescal, the street that ends on the beach at Will Rogers State Beach, you could totally still smell all the eucalyptus trees... and the sun was setting over Malibu.
As I can park Cricket wherever the hell I want, I proceeded right down to the water's edge to park, practically.
I walked on the beach path a little bit... it was almost dark... I was totally the only Anglo there... all these Mexican picnickers around, which reminds me of when I was little, going to Chapultepec Park on Sundays. Which is a really great memory. There were lots of people shooting off pretty impressive fireworks, actually. I walked to the end of the path, and turned toward the water. After a while, I sat down.... the tide was coming in, so I got splooshed, but it was actually really pretty warm.
You can see a lot more stars down there, and all the planes stacked up for LAX to the north looked like planets in a row.
Then the big show started down in Marina Del Rey to the south … and another one south of that... and another south again. It took sooooooooo long for the sound to reach me… at least a minute, probably more.
Malibu, to my right, didn't start yet, because it was still light over there. About 1/4 of a mile north me, a private show started, and it was surprisingly good. I watched the Marina show, with my really long shadow going down the beach from the fireworks going on behind me... all to the sound of the surf. When the Malibu show started, the sound of it was totally modified by the waves, so Marina sounded like, "boom... boom... boom" and Malibu sounded like, "whapahBoom....whapAH...'OOM!"
It was so cool.
Then, they had the big finale in the Marina, and then about 2 minutes later: "booombooomboombooomboom!" And you could still see other shows down the coast ... and then the big finale in Malibu, the sound of which was pushed and stretched by the surf.
So, then I hopped back on Cricket and totally tore though all the
traffic by just driving in the parked car lane... and I kept thinking,
remember the smell of the eucalyptus trees.
Great ride back, even though I was all wet from a wave... and then I
stopped at 7-11, that most American of all institutions, for a tall boy
and a rocket pop.
Anyway... it was really, really, really great.
Unfortunately, the magic of the evening did not extend to the painting of the kitchen... (which eventually got done, though the "friend" never visited -ed)