As we drove into Canary Beach Resort for my 19th summer, I began to realize that I could never go back to being a child. Apparently up to this point I had hoped that I could regress to a time that lacked the stress and responsibility of my current life.
I used to depend on this resort as a reminder of the simple life. It had ten cabins that could only be described as "janky." My family rented all five on the lakefront, leaving a giant open space for us to play wiffle ball and to push picnic table together for dinner every night. It was family time at its purest. No TVs or phones or jobs or homework to distract us from the lake for a solid week.
But since my year absence from beautiful Villard, MN, I could barely fathom that this was the place where I had spent the greatest weeks of my summers. There were almost 80 trailers parked behind the cabin area, leaving no more open space to play. A humungous 2 story cabin sat juxtaposed against the tiny older cabins, standing where the fish house once provided us with pictures of piles of sunfish for years. The water was up almost three feet, drowning the beach and any possibility of sand castle making. Then came the worst part. At least 30 people crowded the beach area, leaving barely enough room for our group of towels and blankets.
Where was I?
It was at this time that I realized the one place that had always been fixed in my head was now completely altered. It was like losing a favorite childhood toy.
But here is where I get cheesy and maybe a bit cliche. One thing would remain the same. This would always be one of the few times of the year that my whole family got together to play, swim, tube and fish. Even if our location wasn't great, it was always perfect when we could all be there.
It's true that my childhood is over. I'm heading back to school. I'm almost 20. But at least in Villard I could attempt to see my four-year-old feet running across the sand. I can play and be happy and silly. My cousins, my grandparents and my aunts and uncles are the same as always when we are together. That fact remains stable and reassuring.
I know very few people who like big changes, but for now I'm thankful that I could be amongst the people I love, even if our simple heaven had turned into a trailer-ridden "resort."
I'll admit it; I've been pining for childhood. So for now, I'll tuck memories from all those summers away. I hope one day I can pull them out and be a kid whenever I please.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
My quest for musicality
My good friend Caitlin and I were on a long run one day last spring. We were bored, so we decided to play a game of the always mature “Would you rather..?”
Right off the bat, Caitlin hit me with a classic tough one.
“Would you rather live the rest of your life without great music or without great food?”
She received my answer with an audible gasp. Yep, I chose living without music.
For Caitlin, I see music as a central part of her life. Everytime I went to her dorm room, she was jamming to something different. Music drowns out the voices that distract her from studying. A huge Springsteen poster adorned her closet. She grew up listening to his music with her family.
I sincerely wish I had grown up with a keen musical taste like Caitlin. It's such an excellent and irreplaceable quality. It's not that my parents don't listen to music, but I wish I had those memories that were defined by a song that sent my parents dancing around the house. It's not like I am some locked-in-the-closet, never heard music before freak. But in college I finally learned to appreciate the life-changing qualities of music.
Thus, my current goal. I'm trying to teach myself the importance of a musical life. Lately I've been desperately trying to listen to everything. I want to be beyond book smart. I long to be musically intelligent. As the result of this sudden mania to be more musical, I have started adding every song I can get my hands on to my iTunes. My cousin recently gave me a huge stack of CDs, which I am so excited to dive into.
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| Some of my recent additions. |
The other day I was stuck in traffic and another sudden impulse hit me. I drove to a music store and bought a new A string. Then I invited my (Asian) violin major friend over and he restrung my violin that has been gathering dust for the past three years. Laura the violinist is back. I played violin for seven years. I still regret ever stopping. It seems ridiculous that I am just starting to realize how cool it was to play on stage. I miss my calloused fingertips, the tricky notes and possibly even scales. So along with my new string, I picked up a book of Disney classics. I probably could have played these better in seventh grade. It takes a while for them to sound familiar, but for some reason it's something I need to do. I'm making violin into a lifelong activity for myself. Plus, now I can play "Under the Sea."
So please show me your music taste and I'll show you mine. I want to hear everything and I want to hear it now.
I'm learning that I'd rather be without great food if it meant I could still listen to Ray LaMontagne.
What I'm listening to
Monday, July 18, 2011
Mandatory awkward first post
I've never been the type to rip the band-aid off quickly. I normally tear it slowly, seeing my skin rise and my hair pull. It hurts either way. But I've been meaning to start a blog all summer. I began to see my journalist friends start their own and for the millionth time I felt as if I should finally get started on the whole "getting experience" thing that everyone says is so important. So here goes, my jump into a world of technology and blogging and information that sometimes I can't even begin to comprehend. I sure hope it doesn't hurt. It hasn't been too hard getting to this point. In fact, it only took about an hour.
Anyways, let's get this party started. To put it simply:
Anyways, let's get this party started. To put it simply:
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