Once upon a time, before they moved the monument, before the rally in Arizona, was the Eclipse. Can you remember that far back? You recall, it was the event I wasn't all that jazzed up about because of all the hype. No one at my house was, really.
Well, the morning of the long-awaited event dawned relatively clear. Things looked promising and I began to see posts from folks in town and those who had ventured far afield to get a better view. I began to feel a little tingle. A twinge, even. Was it FOMO?
What if this eclipse really was a big deal and I was going to miss out because I was pulling a Cool Kid/Not Easiy Impressed attude?
Hmm.
I saw a friend put out a desperate Mom-call for a pair of eclipse glasses. I saw another, generous mom respond in the affirmative. And then I made my move. I messaged that generous mom privately and asked if she might possibly have one extra pair of eclipse glasses. Of course, if she didn't, that was No Big Deal.
She did. She'd be glad to pass it along but she was going to be running errands so could we meet up someplace?
And so, on the morning of the eclipse, I found myself in an unfamiliar place, waiting for the Drop Off. (Story aside, it was the EZ Café off Route 40 and I give it high marks.) I bought an iced coffee and a croissant because I didn't want to look suspicious. I worked nonchalantly on my iPad while keep an eye on the entrance.
At long last my contact appeared and we made the switch. I asked if I could pay her. She graciously declined. I asked if I could make a donation somewhere in her honor. She smiled. She gave me some suggestions. We departed.
And that, friends, if how I came to make a donation and become a member of the Howard County NAACP on the morning of the Eclipse. It was something I had been meaning to do for quite some time. It had just slipped my mind. You can learn more about what's happening with our local NAACP here.
I confess to you, my dear readers, that I did not remain firm in my rejection of all things eclipse. I waffled. I thought about the beauty and precision of the natural world and the opportunity to witness something pretty amazing and a wave of excitement came over me. I wanted to share that experience with my family.
And so I did. It was pretty darn cool, too. My husband was probably the most excited. Our teen went along with the whole thing, but, to be honest, she was nonplussed. She was playing Sims and we interrupted her several times and really, from her tone, I think it was No Big Deal.
The innate ability of teens to be unimpressed is most likely a feature of the natural world, too. It's stunningly reliable. Just like an eclipse.
I'm glad I changed my mind.
Well, the morning of the long-awaited event dawned relatively clear. Things looked promising and I began to see posts from folks in town and those who had ventured far afield to get a better view. I began to feel a little tingle. A twinge, even. Was it FOMO?
What if this eclipse really was a big deal and I was going to miss out because I was pulling a Cool Kid/Not Easiy Impressed attude?
Hmm.
I saw a friend put out a desperate Mom-call for a pair of eclipse glasses. I saw another, generous mom respond in the affirmative. And then I made my move. I messaged that generous mom privately and asked if she might possibly have one extra pair of eclipse glasses. Of course, if she didn't, that was No Big Deal.
She did. She'd be glad to pass it along but she was going to be running errands so could we meet up someplace?
And so, on the morning of the eclipse, I found myself in an unfamiliar place, waiting for the Drop Off. (Story aside, it was the EZ Café off Route 40 and I give it high marks.) I bought an iced coffee and a croissant because I didn't want to look suspicious. I worked nonchalantly on my iPad while keep an eye on the entrance.
At long last my contact appeared and we made the switch. I asked if I could pay her. She graciously declined. I asked if I could make a donation somewhere in her honor. She smiled. She gave me some suggestions. We departed.
And that, friends, if how I came to make a donation and become a member of the Howard County NAACP on the morning of the Eclipse. It was something I had been meaning to do for quite some time. It had just slipped my mind. You can learn more about what's happening with our local NAACP here.
I confess to you, my dear readers, that I did not remain firm in my rejection of all things eclipse. I waffled. I thought about the beauty and precision of the natural world and the opportunity to witness something pretty amazing and a wave of excitement came over me. I wanted to share that experience with my family.
And so I did. It was pretty darn cool, too. My husband was probably the most excited. Our teen went along with the whole thing, but, to be honest, she was nonplussed. She was playing Sims and we interrupted her several times and really, from her tone, I think it was No Big Deal.
The innate ability of teens to be unimpressed is most likely a feature of the natural world, too. It's stunningly reliable. Just like an eclipse.
I'm glad I changed my mind.
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