we have no lightening bugs in the west. it was nice to revisit them through your words. a wonderful way to find some of the joy of the day in the first article i can reflect on. berry, van zandt, and of course solomon add to the joy vibe.
Thanks for that Mr. Labash, great post that I needed, I just didn't know that I did. I'm finishing a good, long vacation in the next couple days and the first 2 paragraphs especially resonate. I'm sure you're aware, but Guy Clark has an awesome cover of this song, I highly recommend to you and your readers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r6O6n7yYaHc
Good writers will delight their readers (think Lewis Carroll), or amuse them (think Twain, or P.G. Wodehouse), or enlighten them (think any book by Alan Guelzo or Gordon Wood, historians extraordinaire). Better writers will touch a couple of those bases – as do the above cited examples. And the best writers manage to hit all three – a feat I think you accomplish more often than most. I won’t elaborate on the sparsity of good writers, much less the better and the exceptional ones... there are few who can manage to either delight, amuse or enlighten and that, I suspect, is what differentiates the upper crust of the breed.
Anyway – thank you. It ain’t easy, I know - but it is much appreciated and well recognized.
These are pretty cool if you ever get the chance to see them. But nowadays you have to fight a swarm of tourists to see them, which kinda takes away some of the wonder.
Growing up in North Texas we kids would chase fireflies on warm summer nights, putting them in a jar until you had your own personal lantern, then letting them go so you could catch them again. Living on the Texas coast, I haven't seen one in years, gone the way of the horny toad every little boy seemed to have in his possession. Maybe that's why you can't find them any more. Haven't seen one in years.
For some compensation we have a beach house on the West end of Galveston Island. It's 42 years old and not fancy, but it's big enough for my wife and me and our three kids, fours grandchildren and four great grandchildren and the occasional friend without feeling too crowded, provided some are ok with the bunkbed room.
With property taxes and flood insurance, it's almost getting too expensive to keep, but watching my 57 year old son building a sandcastle two weeks ago just so his five year old great nephew could have the fun of tearing it down, makes it worth it. That and walking the beach every day with my blue heeler mix Jake. Especially in the winter when the tourists are gone and you can see for miles in each direction and you are as alone as Robinson Crusoe with the sound of the surf in your ears and the beach unmarked by any footprints but your own.
Jun 24, 2022·edited Jun 24, 2022Liked by Matt Labash
In the summer of 1975 my Dad and I used to mow the half acre of grass together in our yard about once a week. We started right after dinner and we finished at dusk. That was right about the time we would start seeing lightning bugs flashing by the hundreds. To this day I still love the smell of freshly cut grass mixed with the smell of combusted gasoline. Both of us would plop down on the screened in patio. He would light up a cigar and I would go get a cold bottle of pop. We never turned on the patio light...we just sat in the dark with the radio on. It would have been about the 6th inning of a ballgame between the Cincinnati Reds and the their arch enemies, the Los Angeles Dodgers. The 1975 Reds were called the Big Red Machine. We were rabid Reds fans. Even if they were down 2 runs in the 7th, we knew Joe Morgan, David Concepcion, or Pete Rose would get on base and Johnny Bench would hit a home run to win the game in the ninth. In 1975 the Big Red Machine always ended up winning...or so it seemed. Dad would say, "They did it again." I said "They always do." (The Reds went 64–17 at home in 1975, which remains the best home record ever by a National League team.)
Having grown up in New Mexico where fireflies are not a thing, I had never seen a firefly until the summer of 2018, when my wife and I took a road trip to a wedding in Roanoke. We were getting ready to leave when she walked me into the woods near the venue, away from the light … I was speechless. One of the best things I’ve ever seen.
Why I love ML: "....or whether cruciferous vegetables make Penelope Cruz gassy." I mean, who else would think to write such a thing? The other day close to dusk there was a lovely double rainbow that seemed to cross the entire town where I live. Later that same evening, as I was wheeling my garbage bins to the curb, I saw the first firefly of the season. I saw two Lights of God that evening.
Just back from the beach myself, from my first sight of the hoe end of a backhoe digging into a perfectly good beach cottage. It left me very glad that the folks who bought my parents' place (years ago) had the good fortune to sell it to someone who hauled up the beach to a new lot rather than tear it down - and the decency use the new, bigger place for their own family fun rather than to increase rental income.
RE fireflies: On an annual journey north on I-95 one summer, obscenely absurd traffic drove us to look for an alternate route to I-81. A substandard map and poorly marked roads lead us to the most beautiful sight I have ever seen: evening mist rising over a huge field that stretched west into the sunset, lit by millions of fireflies. Eventually it became clear we weren't headed toward the desired destination and had to turn around, but to this day it was worth the detour.
we have no lightening bugs in the west. it was nice to revisit them through your words. a wonderful way to find some of the joy of the day in the first article i can reflect on. berry, van zandt, and of course solomon add to the joy vibe.
A question for your father. Does Biden spend more time at the beach than Trump did on the golf course?
Trump never fell off a bike because he is too fat to get on one.
Loved this piece Matt
I always loved lightning bugs too, seemed like a real wonder to me as a child.
But, yea for the simple things
When people ask me why I collect toys ( and a few other things) I always say:
Because they make me smile....
Thank you, Matt, for reminding me…
I thank you for Townes.
Thanks for that Mr. Labash, great post that I needed, I just didn't know that I did. I'm finishing a good, long vacation in the next couple days and the first 2 paragraphs especially resonate. I'm sure you're aware, but Guy Clark has an awesome cover of this song, I highly recommend to you and your readers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r6O6n7yYaHc
I enjoyed this. It was great.
Good writers will delight their readers (think Lewis Carroll), or amuse them (think Twain, or P.G. Wodehouse), or enlighten them (think any book by Alan Guelzo or Gordon Wood, historians extraordinaire). Better writers will touch a couple of those bases – as do the above cited examples. And the best writers manage to hit all three – a feat I think you accomplish more often than most. I won’t elaborate on the sparsity of good writers, much less the better and the exceptional ones... there are few who can manage to either delight, amuse or enlighten and that, I suspect, is what differentiates the upper crust of the breed.
Anyway – thank you. It ain’t easy, I know - but it is much appreciated and well recognized.
These are pretty cool if you ever get the chance to see them. But nowadays you have to fight a swarm of tourists to see them, which kinda takes away some of the wonder.
https://smokymountains.com/park/things-to-do/synchronous-fireflies-smoky-mountains/
“Fezziwig once said to me, "Ebenezer, when happiness shows up, always give it a comfortable seat.”
Growing up in North Texas we kids would chase fireflies on warm summer nights, putting them in a jar until you had your own personal lantern, then letting them go so you could catch them again. Living on the Texas coast, I haven't seen one in years, gone the way of the horny toad every little boy seemed to have in his possession. Maybe that's why you can't find them any more. Haven't seen one in years.
For some compensation we have a beach house on the West end of Galveston Island. It's 42 years old and not fancy, but it's big enough for my wife and me and our three kids, fours grandchildren and four great grandchildren and the occasional friend without feeling too crowded, provided some are ok with the bunkbed room.
With property taxes and flood insurance, it's almost getting too expensive to keep, but watching my 57 year old son building a sandcastle two weeks ago just so his five year old great nephew could have the fun of tearing it down, makes it worth it. That and walking the beach every day with my blue heeler mix Jake. Especially in the winter when the tourists are gone and you can see for miles in each direction and you are as alone as Robinson Crusoe with the sound of the surf in your ears and the beach unmarked by any footprints but your own.
I need that.
Just what I needed today. The dog video was a major bonus.
In the summer of 1975 my Dad and I used to mow the half acre of grass together in our yard about once a week. We started right after dinner and we finished at dusk. That was right about the time we would start seeing lightning bugs flashing by the hundreds. To this day I still love the smell of freshly cut grass mixed with the smell of combusted gasoline. Both of us would plop down on the screened in patio. He would light up a cigar and I would go get a cold bottle of pop. We never turned on the patio light...we just sat in the dark with the radio on. It would have been about the 6th inning of a ballgame between the Cincinnati Reds and the their arch enemies, the Los Angeles Dodgers. The 1975 Reds were called the Big Red Machine. We were rabid Reds fans. Even if they were down 2 runs in the 7th, we knew Joe Morgan, David Concepcion, or Pete Rose would get on base and Johnny Bench would hit a home run to win the game in the ninth. In 1975 the Big Red Machine always ended up winning...or so it seemed. Dad would say, "They did it again." I said "They always do." (The Reds went 64–17 at home in 1975, which remains the best home record ever by a National League team.)
Having grown up in New Mexico where fireflies are not a thing, I had never seen a firefly until the summer of 2018, when my wife and I took a road trip to a wedding in Roanoke. We were getting ready to leave when she walked me into the woods near the venue, away from the light … I was speechless. One of the best things I’ve ever seen.
Why I love ML: "....or whether cruciferous vegetables make Penelope Cruz gassy." I mean, who else would think to write such a thing? The other day close to dusk there was a lovely double rainbow that seemed to cross the entire town where I live. Later that same evening, as I was wheeling my garbage bins to the curb, I saw the first firefly of the season. I saw two Lights of God that evening.
Just back from the beach myself, from my first sight of the hoe end of a backhoe digging into a perfectly good beach cottage. It left me very glad that the folks who bought my parents' place (years ago) had the good fortune to sell it to someone who hauled up the beach to a new lot rather than tear it down - and the decency use the new, bigger place for their own family fun rather than to increase rental income.
RE fireflies: On an annual journey north on I-95 one summer, obscenely absurd traffic drove us to look for an alternate route to I-81. A substandard map and poorly marked roads lead us to the most beautiful sight I have ever seen: evening mist rising over a huge field that stretched west into the sunset, lit by millions of fireflies. Eventually it became clear we weren't headed toward the desired destination and had to turn around, but to this day it was worth the detour.
And Old Bay is good on shrimp, too.