Somehow R-kids and I found ourselves without a single baseball or softball game or practice this evening. We stared at each other. Who are you people? Why aren’t you wearing uniforms? And, more importantly, what do we do now??
After much volleying of ideas and some mild negotiating, we came up with a plan: pack a picnic and head to the bandshell for some free live music by Lake Harriet. It was as nice as that sounds. My favorite part was watching the over-80 and under-2 crowd dance, sway, and tap along to the big-band jazz classics. They could hardly resist and, really, why should they? Me on the other hand. R-boy asked me to stop the shoulder movements that spontaneously occurred at one point. Apparently that’s just too much for a growing son to deal with in public. I obliged. He’s probably right.
Anyway, we topped the evening off with something I’ve wanted to do for years: Take the trolley.
We caught the last ride of the night with a view of the setting sun. I imagined being a 1915 office girl, riding this same trolley downtown to work. Or a mom, taking her kids to the state fair in St. Paul. Or a socialite, heading out to my summer home on Lake Calhoun.
The open windows blew our hair gently. History swirled around.
It was short but very, very sweet. I highly recommend it.
by julie rybarczyk
