They’re just children…

And though they were sad they rescued everyone…

Maybe we all need to be rescued. Swept up by our astronaut fathers and taken to the new pastures above. I keep trying to connect with the excitement and joy I felt as I entered the new world. It’s hard to connect with these days. As the flag wavers collected their gas heaters and barbecue from the Main Street intersection after their weekly outing of intimidation and public outcry.

On lazy afternoons and evenings I would sit and absorb this album. It’s lazy rhythms and obscure lyrics wafting over me. We lived in south east Portland and the whole strange world would pass my window as I gazed out in the afternoons/evenings, gangsters, moms pushing strollers, strippers, dealers, old folks, young folks, hippies, punks, hookers, students and busy workers. They all passed by because the Dairy Queen was at the end of our road.

Some days I miss the vibrancy of that neighborhood. They called it “felony flats” for good reason. I never however felt afraid there.

Maybe I just miss the Dairy Queen.

2 thoughts on “They’re just children…

  1. Well sure, DQ! Gettysburg has a dozen ice cream shops, many very good, but DQ is my favorite. Sometimes I feel guilty gravitating towards a chain, but it’s a franchise and I I know the owner. Have you read “Our Noise” by Jeff Gomez or “Juliet, Naked” by Nick Hornsby? Those are two books written for those of us who belong in that tribe where rock music plays an outsized role in our lives.

  2. I have read the Hornsby but not the Gomez. I’m going to search that out. Hornsby wrote a great book of lists that was entertaining. I think rock music abs gardening is the eventual sanctuary of our age group as exercise gets more difficult. Dairy Queen is a unique American experience the Blizzard is a gastronomic wonder. Likewise Portland and it’s surrounds ha many a gourmet ice cream parlor that I kind of avoid.

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