Chapter 14, in Which Booty is Shaken
Lucine and her husband Max came over last night. Lucine and Max are the kind of friends that are so close we often don't even clean before they come over (giving them the privilege of stepping over strewn toys and getting cozy with the dust bunnies under the couch, as emblem of our abiding love). They've provided emergency babysitting, and made emergency pots of vegetarian chili, and schlepped over on the bus in the snow when it would have been so much easier for them to stay snuggled at home, and just generally embodied "through thick and thin" in countless ways. Pete and I tell each other that when they have a baby some day, we're going to have to go move in with them for the first six months and cook all their meals and do all their laundry if we're ever going to have a hope of any kind of favor parity.
Somehow the subject of Creedence Clearwater Revival came up, and Pete was apologizing for not putting any on--"Rosie hates CCR," he said (with regret but no rancor, it should be noted).
"Um, no I don't."
"You don't?"
"No. I'm fine with CCR. They just remind me of high school. I hate XTC."
"You hate XTC??"
"Well, yeah."
"You hate XTC??"
"Um, strongly dislike?"
Anyway, he put on the record, and there was this gloriously sweet moment when all of us--Max, Lucine, Pete, Cassie, and I--were dancing around the living room and dining room to "Suzie Q," (like those corny movie scenes that proliferated after The Big Chill came out, I realize now, in the cold light of day). One of those moments that don't come very often, but when they do, make it all seem easy--make it seem as if the world is so full of love and pleasure that this joy is just what life is made of. A moment that makes happiness seem so readily accessible, you wonder why you ever thought it was hard.
Those moments for me always seem to happen with friends. It makes me wonder about the ideal balance of to-do list-wrangling and social contact. So much of life seems to require charging around, getting things done. I guess you just have to keep deciding, keep choosing, day by day and hour by hour. And maybe in the end do a little more inviting people over to hang out with the dust bunnies.
Somehow the subject of Creedence Clearwater Revival came up, and Pete was apologizing for not putting any on--"Rosie hates CCR," he said (with regret but no rancor, it should be noted).
"Um, no I don't."
"You don't?"
"No. I'm fine with CCR. They just remind me of high school. I hate XTC."
"You hate XTC??"
"Well, yeah."
"You hate XTC??"
"Um, strongly dislike?"
Anyway, he put on the record, and there was this gloriously sweet moment when all of us--Max, Lucine, Pete, Cassie, and I--were dancing around the living room and dining room to "Suzie Q," (like those corny movie scenes that proliferated after The Big Chill came out, I realize now, in the cold light of day). One of those moments that don't come very often, but when they do, make it all seem easy--make it seem as if the world is so full of love and pleasure that this joy is just what life is made of. A moment that makes happiness seem so readily accessible, you wonder why you ever thought it was hard.
Those moments for me always seem to happen with friends. It makes me wonder about the ideal balance of to-do list-wrangling and social contact. So much of life seems to require charging around, getting things done. I guess you just have to keep deciding, keep choosing, day by day and hour by hour. And maybe in the end do a little more inviting people over to hang out with the dust bunnies.
posted by Rosie Bonner at 2:29 PM
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