Yesterday, we were invited to a Superbowl Party. I have no feelings about football. It’s a foreign world to me that I don’t care deeply enough about to want to learn more--kind of like Sanskrit. My eldest daughter used to be on the Dance Team at her high school, meaning she danced football halftimes. I always timed it so I’d get there just for her performance. Except once--the homecoming game--my daughter said I’d better get there early or I wouldn’t get a seat. I went, taking a sweater along to knit as I whiled away the l-o-n-g minutes. I sat next to this elderly gentleman (in his 80’s) who had graduated from the school and never missed a game if he could help it. Although I didn’t ask, he began explaining the various penalties and plays. At one point, he took my elbow. “You must stand for the kick-off,” he insisted. I was impressed. He really wanted me to understand this world.
Although, thanks to that kind man, I’m a little more knowledgeable I’m still no big fan of the game. So fortunately last night, true to form, I showed up at halftime in time to hear The Boss.
Last week I was “tagged” by two dear bloggers: Becky Levine
and Nina Amir to answer questions about what I love. They’re both great writers. Becky’s an amazing editor, and writes Young Adult fiction as well as non-fiction books for writers. Nina does non-fiction articles on faith, her dancing son, cooking, and how to become an expert. They asked for between 7-20 things I love. I’ve chosen the number 8, a favorite number of mine as in Chinese the character represents “ever-increasing harmony.”
I take my family & friends as a given in this. I love :
1) Watching my kids participate. In swimming. Basketball. Dance. Music. Theater. If they were in football, I’d love that too.
2) Mornings when the words just dance from my heart so fast my fingers can‘t keep up with all the thoughts.
3) The beach.
4) Traveling someplace new
5) Playing games--Scrabble, Worm, Charades, Cards
6) Hiking & Swimming
8) Hearing a good story or reading a good book…which brings me to my latest, a book I had no intention of reading. Last month I read the book Beautiful Boy by David Sheff, a non-fiction story written by a father whose wonderful son became addicted to methamphetamines. Tweak by Nic Sheff is the book his son wrote about the experience. I felt as if the father’s book was as much as I wanted to hear, but my teenager (who had also experienced the father‘s viewpoint) wanted to read Tweak.
I thought I’d best preview it. What if it said something like drugs were the most wonderful thing in the world? And it did….for the first 30 pages. But then young 20-something Sheff keeps talking (and it always felt like he was chatting, revealing secrets only a really close friend would)
Like the gentleman at the football game, he took me by the elbow and showed me his world, leading me through the darker side of the streets of San Francisco, defining the drug world that had become second nature to him.
He wrote bluntly about his struggle. How he would go days without eating, had no place to stay, spent hours trying to break into an apartment complex just to take a shower, crawled to the LA airport in his socks, as he’d lost his shoes. All because he’d spent every last penny on getting high. Many times he’d gone sober…and then relapsed. The ending brought me to tears….and I passed the book onto my son.