Spring is finally here and euporia is in the air. On suburban lawns still littered with downed trees from the last storm, people rejoiced. How do places like San Fransisco deal with their perpetual blue skies and warm air? Is it no big deal or are they always happy?
On Saturday morning, we went to the Museum of Modern Art. We were talked out of going on Friday night, because Friday is free day, and the lines to get into the museum stretch around the block. We got to the museum a few minutes before it opened up, and there were still lines going around the block. Luckily, Steve has a corporate membership because his company belongs to the museum. We got in for free and went to the front of the line.
We haven't been to MOMA with the kids before. It's not that kid-friendly, and we've had some issues with straight-art type of museums with grouchy guards and dusty paintings. We decided that kids were old enough for a short visit to soak in the ambiance and acclimate them for the future. The free admission also made things easier. The Tim Burton exhibit was too crowded. Ian got bulldozed by eager art goers, so we had to do a drive-by of the exhibit. I don't think we missed out on that much. I wasn't that impressed.
One hour was long enough for a bit of fun and inspiration though.
Then we went to Central Park. Everyone was out. How fabulous is Central Park? A huge public space that it utilized by millions of people. Rich and poor sit on the same rocks and soak in the sun. It has some of the smartest playgrounds around. This one has circles of spongy turf just for toddlers to practice walking. In the summer, water sprays the kids as the race around the maze and over the granite.
On Sunday, people were on bikes, skates, horses. Everyone was dressed up and parading about in the best clothes. They lounged on blankets, ate sandwiches, and read books.
This morning, Jonah, my dad, and myself ran in a 5K race in town. It was my first race in twenty years, so I'm proud of my 33 minute time, thank you very much. Well, my ego was a bit bruised by the fact that both my 10-year old son and my 73-year old dad beat me.
The whole town was out for the race. The local dignitaries were prominent, strutting about and shaking hands. The girl scouts handed out water at the halfway mark. And dad got a medal. It's was fantastic.
Now, I'm off to bed, because my muscles have seized up in protest.