Oh, California. I haven’t written an ode to you yet, but I am smitten. I’m totally won over. I’m over hating on your stupid money and freeways, because I know there you are so much more than that. We’ve had a genuinely amazing time here, and I’ve loved the people and boat watching, and the sun, and watching D1 on in the surf, and D2 in the sand (she’s not into the water). I’ve also really enjoyed spending time with my nieces and nephew, because we hardly ever see them, even though we live in the same state (it’s like 10 hours between our cities, because mountains).
On this, our last day of our California vacation, I feel all gushy and sweet on this state with the enormous GDP and huge waves, so I’m going to try to write an ode. the definition of an ode is twofold. Archaically it is a poem meant to be sung, and within these last few centuries it has come to mean a poem with an exalted or enthusiastic tone.
So, California, here I poem. That’s funny to me, because my roommate and I used to watch the OC together in grad school so that we could feel like irresponsible rich teens in unfamiliar land.
Ode to Cali
California, Las Sergas De Esplandian, California, love your limes and avocados and fruits year-round, love you freeways lined with bougainvillea and hyacinth, which is not actually a flower I know, and maybe it grows here and maybe it doesn’t, but is sure sounds like it should. California of the waves, California, aqui llegamos, I welcome your fancy cars and money, here amongst the waves if my daughters are welcome now, to jump in them, I welcome your avocados. Welcome, sun of Cali, yes, siempre te querre, and this great diversidad i love you, I love you with great and whole heart when my daughters drop into your waves, I love you for the place that grew up their greatest fathers, I love you for sharks, and for riptides, and for trying against violence, and for voting and for twlight, and for sunset and for buoys. Right now, and for now and almost never, I love, love, I tots love you and it is pretty much epic, I love this sand, just love the dilemma, oh won’t you let everyone into the land of lemons and year-round fruit, just let them in, you, you state of enormous gdp, don’t be a fool, Cali, I’ll call you that, even if you insist otherwise. You got your fair share of terror, in the airports and riptides and stingrays, but so do we all, now, so do we all who just want to go fishin’ in the dark, remember when we swan naked in the bay? Remember when we thought about the name of this state and learned about people as we went? Don’t you think we’d walk the line into this land, here in the land of Cali?