Currently my street is full of cars and my yard and barn and five acres is crawling with talented kids…well they’re kids to me…There are painters painting. Hoopers hooping with their lighted hula hoops, musicians, including drummers with kettles and bongos. There are dancers, singers, yoga masters…it’s an amazing array of hippie kids. We’ve come full circle.
My son has manifested this event with a tremendous amount of organization from his friend Cat. We’ve warned the neighbors. Some were tolerant. Some offered their drives for turning around and parking in front of their houses. Some were buttheads.
We’ve talked to the deputies who came out to check and make sure we had responsible adults here and no underage drinking. I hesitated to mention the babies and children. I haven’t been watching them too closely so I don’t know what their cups are spiked with. I’m afraid a few parents have gone full fat on the baby milk. Scary, right?
The music is great. The only regret I have at the moment is that I’m a bit too tired to give it the full attention it deserves. The lighted hoops are so colorful. Dance all ye who are here and keep the peace and enthusiasm and love you have.
I’m hoping we do this again…in spite of the one grumpy old guy down the road. He needs to lighten up. We did invite him to enjoy the hoops. Somehow I get the impression that his god might not like that. I feel really sorry for him. He’s missing something vital and alive in the here and now.