Wednesday, August 04, 2004
qzen42 feels 
The Night Was Moist
subtitle: Helter Skelter, In a Summer Swelter
When a friend asked me to describe my weekend, I replied: “Moist.” Ever since another friend used the term to describe her infant, I have been fond of the word, much in the same way that Billy Crystal was fond of “sultry” in “Throw Momma from the Train." We are now in the Dog Days of August and the obligatory 3H forecast: Hazy, hot, & humid with a chance of thunderstorms. Saturday, we traipsed about a multi-family yard sale in 90degF heat. Then we did some yard work. Throughout most of the day, I felt moist.
Sunday, we hosted the Hospitality table at our church. Since our community room does not yet enjoy the benefit of air conditioning, the experience was (you guessed it) moist. Then we headed off to Dorney Park/Wildwater Kingdom in order to become intentionally moist in the water park, followed by somewhat less intentional perspiration induced whilst wandering about the amusement park.
Today, Annette’s siblings and respective offspring converged on Allentown to join us for another day @ Dorney. Somewhat predictably, it was another moist day. I saw the mercury clock in at 95degF. It was a good day to be near water. By 7:00pm, additional moisture was delivered from the heavens.
Another moment of clarity…a favorite attraction of mine @ Dorney is the “Lazy River,” one of those where you just float, occasionally being doused by waterfalls, sprays, and all things moist. I made a conscious effort to become present, clearing my mind and focusing on my breath. All at once, the noise of the water became intense. I could smell the chlorine. I became aware of the gathering clouds on the horizon. I felt the coolness of the water. Words just don’t do the sensation justice. I sensed an idea of all the families enjoying their own individual respites from the daily business of living. A recreational totality, if you will. Incidentally, the “Lazy River” is not its actual name, but rather, the mood it invokes. But almost everyone has given that moniker to it. For the record, the real name is: Wildwater River.
One more thought from Dorney. On Sunday, I had occasion to spend one-on-one time with both Brianna and Calvin. With them, I also made the effort to be present. To try and fix the image of the moment in my memory (Paraphrasing "Blade Runner": "All those moments will be lost in time...like tears in the rain…"). I think, to some extent, I have succeeded.
Brianna is seated in front of a small jet of H2O bubbling forth from the tarmac. She is wearing a green swimsuit with sunflowers on the shoulder straps where they join the top of her suit. She is laughing and swatting at the H2O with those cute little hands.
Calvin is splashing about in another one of the children’s venues (have you noticed how venue came into the CultureSpeak ever since the 1996 Atlanta Olympics…all those Olympic venues. Of course, here in the Lehigh Valley, we have our own term: platz. Thanks to Muskiest everything is a platz. But I digress). Calvin has clambered onto a big green foam crocodile. He lays his head down on the croc’s head and looks at me. I wave. He waves back. (Sorry, can’t tell you the color of his swimsuit. Hey, I’m a guy. There are limits to my attentiveness).
Now, I have a sweet fatigue born of sun, moist sweat, lots of walking and general relaxation.
Time to sleep.
Breathe.
Evolve.
Laugh.
