…but I didn’t. No, I followed her. I was pulled to her like a magnet, away from the band at the Edgewater Lounge Block Party. Her swagger mesmerized me. I didn’t want to disrupt the flow. She was on a mission. Maybe she was going to do laundry. Maybe she was going to drop off her recycling. Maybe there was a ginormous sale on gummy worms.
I so wanted her bags to be filled with gummy worms, but I think it was laundry. Alas, I never talked to her, which would’ve been cool so I could find out where she was from. Anyway, I was happy for Chicago at that moment, the diversity that exists here once you take the time to get out and look around. (But if you’re balancing something on your head, I’d imagine you’d have to look around verrryyy slowlyyyy.)
Speaking of balancing things on heads, I took a two-year-old to a “rock n roll” music class the other day — where the Stevie-Nicks-ish instructor had the hair and bod of an early thirtysomething, but was in her mid-fifties I’d guess — and one part of the class involved shaking an egg-shaped music maker, and then balancing it on your head. She also went around the circle to get each of the little ones to say their name and she’d strum and sing, “Hello — I love you — won’t you tell me your name…” So that was rad.
But perhaps the crowning point of the session? A short little doozy of a dance that the teacher made up to Katy Perry’s “Hot N Cold” song:
“You’re hot and you’re cold” (clapping)/ You’re in and you’re out (jumping in and then out of a hula hoop on the ground)/ You’re up and you’re down (squatting down and then standing back up).”
Try it today! (Jim Morrison rolling over in his rock n roll grave.)
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