Today Gabe is wearing a grey sweatshirt, khaki pants, and brown flip flops.
By now it shouldn’t surprise me that I’m finding myself, once again, getting riled up about something trendy, two or so years after it was trendy. I can still remember calling my dad up, sometime in oh-let’s-say 2010 and saying, “Hey have you heard of this website called Pandora? You can tell it what kind of music you want to listen to and it just plays!”
And he said, “Uh, yeah. I know.”
I missed Call Me Maybe by like, 6 months. (I never listen to the radio in my car!)
I feel like I am consistently just-a-little-too-far behind a lot of things. A cultural thing will happen, and I’ll miss the first wave of it, and then suddenly it’s everywhere and I keep thinking I’ll google it or someone will just tell me what’s going on, and then sure enough it just kind of goes away and it turns out my life wasn’t really changed for not finding out about it. And so I forget about it.
But then, I read an article two years later about how the 2012 summer beach read Gone Girl is being made into a movie, and I’ll remember, “Oh yeah, everyone loved that book” and then I’ll think, “Well, I do have an extra Audible credit just lying around” and then next thing I know I have listened to almost all of a 19-hour audiobook in under 4 days.
And then I want to talk about it with people, but no one else is reading it!
Hey! 2012! I want to talk you about this book we’re all enjoying.
Did you know an audiobook could be a page-turner? I was kind of skeptical that I’d get hooked into an audiobook version of a book that was favored by people lazily-yet-hungrily following a twisty murder mystery story, but the effect was almost instant.
I text Gabe plot twists, and he indulges me (“Oh! You don’t say! Well I had a bad feeling about that character…”) but it’s just not the same.
Speaking of Gabe, recently we traveled to a local fish hatchery, which I accidentally stumbled upon while going on a drive exploring the inland areas of Humboldt County. I was following a winding road until suddenly the road turned into a driveway, and there was a parking lot at a fish hatchery, with lots of signs about how you could walk right in and look at all the fish.
Most of the “fish lanes” (which is the only way I know how to describe the long, double-length-bowling-alley-lane-sized swimming pools that ran the length of the hatchery grounds) were actually empty on the day that I brought Gabe back with me, but we hovered over a lane of…salmon?…that we watched jump and swim over each other for a few minutes.
They had little gum ball machines filled with fish food pellets, and naturally, neither one of us had any quarters. I opened the little door at the bottom and scraped out a small pile of pellets that had been left behind by a previous user (no doubt a 5 year old — they have no attention to detail) and divided them up between myself and Gabe.
Then we delighted in sprinkling pellets on top of fish who *leapt* to eat them.
All in all, a pretty good day.