Bubbleon

A rare day off, as I had jury duty. At least, I was scheduled for it, but I got myself excused right away and then gave my car an overdue 60,000 mile servicing. That's a lot of money to drop, but what can you do? It ate up my morning, but at least I was smart enough to bring Roger Ebert's THE GREAT MOVIES, which I bought recently and have been reading since late last week. I guess I'm about 2/3rds done, and more than his regular books of thousands of reviews, this one really highlights just how good a writer, and how perceptive a critic, Ebert really is, as he's focusing here on some of the best films of all time. He's got to be at the top of his game. And since these are a little more than just reviews, we often get to learn more about Ebert from his writing on how he experienced the films the first time, and how he looks at them later, as a mature man.

I wanted to mention something from last weekend that is still resonating with me. There's a smallish fountain on a corner not far from my apartment, the corner leading into a large shopping center containing Target, Mattress Gallery, Starbucks, Barnes & Noble, etc. The fountain is unnecessary, but I suppose it's more visually pleasing than leaving the corner covered in grass, which would be trod, biked and skated upon.

Now and then, the constant churning of the fountain produces a kind of dirty foam on top, several inches high, and I suppose some sort of maintenance service cleans it out. Well, as I was waiting at the red light last Sunday, I looked to my right to see the fountain full of pure white foam several feet high, maybe six, seven feet. Some prankster had evidently poured some soap or detergent in there, probably the night before. I watched the wall of foam undulate and quiver in the light breeze, and then a huge piece of it, enough to cover a man, broke free and floating slowly into the street, hovering up to five feet from the ground and then descending, leaving a wet trail as it skidded along the street. I looked over at a woman on the corner--probably homeless--and we both smiled at the strange wonder of it. Then, cars got the green light (not my side) and one drove right through it, destroying it in thousands of foam particles, a kind of fake snow. It was my turn now, and I drove through it as well, grinning all the while. It was wonderful, a prank of childish disregard turned into something better, a moment of childish wonder, that several could share.