Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Why does NPR remind me of my childhood? Seriously.
Whenever I hear the crisp clear slightly boring voices come through my car speakers I think back to when I was a little girl...growing up in a tiny apartment in DC. That wasn't my home, home...but my home away from home. Where my God mother would tell me stories about riding camels in the deserts of Egypt. Or tell me stories about her adventures in Paris or teaching in China. She would share painting techniques and try her best to teach us how to sign and read braille. She would give us books from her collection and write long notes to us on the inside of the front cover, making sure to write our names in beautiful calligraphic script. We'd listen to tribal sounding records from her huge record collection and some nights, we would even go to the kennedy and catch a show. In the mornings Grandma would cook breakfast and cut orange wedges and after we'd walk the mall beneath the blooming cherry blossoms.
These things are weird. So weird. But I want it back. Maybe someone can explain in to me. Until then...I'm going to keep listening just so I can re-live it.