When we were children, my sister had private music lessons at her violin teacher’s house. I only visited there once, but I still remember that afternoon. The teacher had an artificial pond in her yard, a large beautiful thing with lily pads and plant life. And in the pond, there were goldfish. I had never seen such enormous goldfish.
I spent several minutes just staring at them (and trying to convince them to bite my fingers.) When my sister’s violin lesson ended, her teacher came out to the yard and explained that these goldfish were the same small creatures that were often unfortunately sold in plastic bags at state fairs. They were only about two inches long apiece, when she bought them and put them in the new, empty pond. In essence, they were like every goldfish I had seen before, but they had been given a much larger, much richer environment in which to flourish. As a result, they had grown into some of the most remarkable, vibrant creatures my twelve-year-old self had ever met with. All because of a pond.
Funny what lessons children remember. My sister doesn’t play the violin anymore, but that was the first time I caught a glimpse of the overwhelming extent to which it matters, the way the world treats us.
i was trying to remember the “live long and prosper” motto from star trek and for a solid 10 minutes the only thing i could think of was “live big and die”
i’m not against vaping, but man, vaping two inches from my face on the subway is a ridiculous asshole kind of move. this dude was billowing like he was auditioning for the role of haunted house fog machine. the humidity in the whole car changed, he was ruining haircuts. just jump starting the water cycle. condensation was dripping down my glasses. people were slipping off poles, it was chaos. it was like watching one man try to terraform the moon. a planet with one dense, root beer scented atmosphere blocking out the sun and choking all life.
