It's Never Sunny In Minnedelphia
I paused the game at halftime yesterday, feeling full of satisfaction about the Suns and about my life. The game had actually been over for several hours already, but I was watching it on TIVO thanks to an effective media blackout on my part. It was 5:30 PM. I went outside, stood on my front steps, and felt the sun forming melanomas on my face. Besides the dilapidated ice-cream truck playing a slow, off-key rendition of "Music Box Dancer" and the stray pit-bull tearing down the street, this was a perfect day.
I wanted to share the moment with my son.
Elijah was inside, on my bed, in my tiny, dark, musty bedroom, happily watching the entire first season of Challenge Of The Superfriends on DVD. I've rarely seen him look happier.
"Solomon Grundy is big and strong, but he's also very dumb," he said to me.
"Yes, I know that," I said. "I want you to come outside with me."
"Are we going to look for snails?"
"Sure."
We went outside.
"Where are the snails, daddy?" he asked.
"There aren't any," I said. "They usually only come out when it rains."
"Oh."
"But that's OK, because it's the most beautiful day ever," I said.
"It's nice and warm," said Elijah.
"Yes."
"Where is it cold right now?"
"Um."
"New York is cold."
"Sometimes."
"And Chicago. And Minneapolis. And Philadelphia."
"Those places are often cold, it's true."
"And..." he said. "What about Minnedelphia?"
"Yes," I said. "It's always cold in Minnedelphia."
"And Phillyapolis?"
"Yes."
"What about Chinewyorkgo?"
"Certainly."
"You know where it's always warm?"
"Where?"
"Costa Monica!"
"True."
"And Las Texas."
Elijah's world is so much better. I wish I could live there forever. Maybe I'll move after the Suns win the title.
