Jacob Lawrence, "The Marble Players" (1949)
Jacob Lawrence, The Marble Players (1949)
Can a Game Be Literature?

Mark's Pages

December 18, 2008:

Two boys on bikes, Garnet Avenue, 1970-ish, summer.

We always stop at the frosty place, for enormous cones at just thirty-five cents. Brain freeze: eat 'em fast, before they melt, while cars fly by, and pretty girls ignore us.

Where are we going today?

Maybe The Plunge, maybe the cross on Mt. Soledad. Maybe Shelter Island, maybe around the Bay and down to Ocean Beach, for a ride on the pier and a sandwich with Cokes.

Maybe La Jolla, maybe Torrey Pines, maybe Del Mar, maybe Encinitas or Cardiff or Oceanside.

Depends.

On how nice the day is, whether we want to play basketball later, whether we like the sound of sea birds, whether we can think of anywhere we haven't been yet, whether we have money to spend.

Doesn't matter.

We're free for the day, really free, with a depth of freedom we'll never experience again.

We'll go everywhere, eventually.