Somewhere, the Gods Clapped Their Hands

[image credit here]

The title comes from a Dr. George Sheehan book.  For those of us who came of age in the running boom of the 1970s, Sheehan was a running philosopher who could write about our passion, and make us think about it.  He was a must-read, and runners today could learn a lot from him.

Anyway, I recall the title quote above or something like it from one of his books, and thought it applied here.

See, one of the grandbabies, the 9-year-old, whose nickname for purposes of this blog is Doody Bug, was off school today due to the freezing rain that landed through our early morning hours.  So I, being retired, am the go-to guy for emergency/unexpected child care requirements.  Since mom and dad had to work, I got to watch Doody Bug (which is always great, and NEVER a hassle).

Doody Bug came through the door with a DVD video that I have here right in front of me as I type this post.  It's The Nutcracker ballet, featuring Mikail Barishnikov and Gelsey Kirkland, circa 1977.

It is amazingly beautiful, and is a story that kids can follow.  Barishnikov does phenomenal leaps in which he hangs in the air, seemingly forever.  And Kirkland is ethereal as Clara, the girl who gets the magical nutcracker doll.

Doody Bug asked that we play it and watch it together.  So we settled into the sofa, snuggled together, she with her juice and me with my coffee, and loved it.  Just plain LOVED IT.

Somewhere, the Gods clapped their hands.