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Posted by Rob Sherwood   •   Wednesday, 2007-October-17 • 08:06
Fog and mist. That is wonderful weather. If only it wasn't windy and cold! Do any of you have memories of perfectly wonderful days? Or wonderful moments? First of all...rules of the game. These perfect moments cannot include another human. If we don't make that elimination all this would be about would be a bunch of animal-lust moments. (I am not suggesting the lust involved animals but rather was animal-like) And there are the comments I've heard from new fathers (understandable). Since I am childless...a situation sometimes regretted, but in a more reasonable analysis accepted as incompatible with my deeply ingrown selfishness, I haven't experienced that particular wonderful moment.

I just have two that popped to mind. The first when I was about 8 years old. It was the day after school ended for summer vacation. I was up and out early, on my bike doing figure eights in the street. The feeling of complete and utter freedom washed over me and I've remembered that moment for over 50 years.

The second wonderful moment was more recent. I was walking along Market Street in San Francisco. I had just seen a showing of the restored My Fair Lady. Reveling in the sheer perfection of Audrey Hepburn (and Marni Nixon's voice)I was figuratively several inches in the air. (This is all soooo gay!) It was after midnight, the traffic was light, the air still as a grave and low clouds producing a soft rain, almost a mist. Into this silence I heard a train whistle in the south and it was a wonderful moment.

Those were certainly nicer to think about then the times in the lilac bushes with Spencer and Jennifer playing doctor. Even though I think I was chief surgeon. But come to think about it...those were pretty good times too.

I am working on the Story....nice to hear from you all. Sometimes I think I don't write just to get people to write and prod me.

  1. TAFFY333 wrote on 2007-October-17 12:48:07:
    OK. I'll play.

    It was the summer of 1990. July to be exact, and approximately seven months after my mother had suddenly passed away. I was 250 miles from home sitting on a grassy hill in Ames, Iowa. Not a place I had ever visited before. It was hot, easily in the 90s. Very, very hot. I was drinking wine out of a plastic cup and smoking a cigarette. Circumstances were such that I wouldn't be doing much of either before too long. However, I digress.......Approximately 200 yards away, I suddenly realized I could hear Paul McCartney warming up before his concert in Cyclone Stadium that night. I'd seen him in concert before, had even met him years before, but this was different and strangely unreal. And it slowly began to dawn on me that here I was sitting in the grass in Iowa, sipping wine, and one of my favorite musicians in the whole world was in the big building in front of me singing; his voice wafting through the cornfields behind me. It was almost ethereal and the gloom of the past seven months seemed to begin to peel away.

    Is this Heaven? No, it's Iowa.

    And I can remember it like it was yesterday.
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