Punk Punks

Because I am a thoughtful and compassionate husband, I wanted to bring Megan to a water park this summer. We would have been the oldest people there who were not chaperoning a youth group. Perhaps, also, the whitest and flabbiest, except that we would have gone to a water park in New Braunfels Texas - we might have looked pretty good. Everyone thinks that they would go to Europe for the weekend if they had free airfare. But they wouldn’t. They would decide that the flying time would be a weekend, and would end up going to New Braunfels instead. It is the home of the Schlitterbahn, which is, as far as we can tell the best water park ever. It is also where Leigh Nash from Sixpence None the Richer worked on the “Coke float” when she was in high school. That truth singularly proves that anyone can be a rock star.

We didn’t go there though, because being, (or getting) pregnant at a water park is not advised. It could also be embarrassing and weird. Rather, we attended an event at which we were the youngest who were not being chaperoned. And so it was that we found ourselves last night in St Paul in the fall. Indeed our vacationing standards are different than they were. Vacation is not a destination anymore - it is an absence. We felt comfortable about being in the twin cities, but were really just happy eating meals without cutting anything into squares. When we sat in the plane, delayed for four hours, we were probably the happiest people on the plane. There were people bringing us snacks. It was really very relaxing.

Outside it was colder than Santa Barbara ever is, but inside we felt quite at home. Warmed by sweaters and stories, folk music and an old guy in a suit and red sneakers who talked 2000 adults into singing “you are my sunshine.” Megan and I saw Garrison Keillor on our second date and have listened to his live radio show many times. I will admit an impressed chill ran down our spines when he quietly stated, “We’ll go live in 10 seconds there is nothing to stop it” and seamlessly the music built as he welcomed America to the Prairie Home Companion live from the Fitzgerald Theater in downtown St. Paul. I have heard the phrase so many times. It means something different when you are in the Fitzgerald Theater.

And so I know that it is fall, Minnesota sends a message to let us know. Maybe the time will change soon, maybe we will find a leaf or two in our drought resistant landscaping to rake into our compost piles, maybe we’ll decide to wear a sweater only because it seems like we should. We won’t be hauling the docks in off the lake, or installing snow tires but we will look for our shadows to grow in stature, the lighting to change on the mountains and soon the sun will begin to set over the ocean again. I know it is fall because, in spite of my efforts to cut back on sugar, we already polished off a bag of Baby Ruths. Megan says our baby needs them. Mostly I know it is fall because the twins broadcast it for us. Not a decorative gourd escapes the all-seeing eyes of Ian or Jeremy. Not a real, plastic, painted or cutout pumpkin eludes them. It is their job. Everywhere we turn, “punk punk, punk punk.” I love the fall. Here are the pictures.


Ian 


Jeremy. Right after this we discovered he had a 102 fever. He hides it well! 


Ian throwing hay. 



Nice pose Jer.