"A six-year-old Summit, New Jersey lad who has just learned to count into the hundreds asked his mother what the very last number is -- " the very, very last number." She told him that there isn't any last number, that as far as you go there are always more numbers ahead of you, and was complimenting herself on having neatly slipped the conception of infinity into his consciousness when she noticed that he was quietly crying."
The New Yorker 9-30-50
Last night I went on the Senior Cruise dance that we have every fall. This is a dance that I started back in 1982, so there is tradition involved. Now I go as a supernumerary chaperon. Last night's cruise was perfect, except for the paucity of lemon bars. (I mean, if you aren't getting paid, you ought to get lemon bars, right?) This year the boat went out of Lake Union and over toward the Ballard locks, then back to the lake. It was an unusual route that moved us past large numbers of boats, large and small, all sitting silently under the stars and nearly full moon. I made an observation.
Many of the boats are boathouses, and they tend to be lit up, naturally, and one occasionally sees people moving around or sitting before their televisions. Many of the sailboats and motorboats, though, are also lit up, but -- get this -- you almost NEVER see anyone in a lit boat. I didn't see a single person inside one of those boats, though I saw many lights, tv's lit, comfy chairs, etc.
It got to be eerie, the lack of human presence.
Oh, well, the kids danced like maniacs. I have three boys picked for the Dancing Fools award. To top it off we won a close and very exciting game just before the cruise, so the spirits were high all around.
The rumor that will undoubtedly run around the school that I danced the jitterbug with Miss D****y is a base canard. We slipped on a wet spot on the floor of the boat and grabbed onto each other to avoid falling down. Really. The fact that Dancing Queen was the song playing is not pertinent.
We met our daughter and family at the zoo for the pumpkin walk. K****n (age two) was dressed as a pumpkin, naturally. E***y was a butterfly. N**k was Zorro. (Today is N**k's birthday!) I was disguised as an old man, pretty effective, too, as nobody saw the youth within.
It really was a fun event, the zoo having gone to great lengths to Weeny up the place. And K***n was entranced. It was interesting to me, as my life is spent almost entirely with young adults ages 14 to 18. I seldom see small children, even though I have one of my own in my grandson. It almost seems that human procreation has come to a stop.
Until you go to the pumpkin crawl. I have never seen so many humans ages one up to six or so, especially ages two and three. All dressed cutely, all having a heckofa time. Clearly people are still reduplicating the species, just not anywhere around me.
I was unnerved by the thought of running into youknowwho with her two little girls, but was saved the embarrassment of being an actual live person with her. Anyway, a good time was had by all.