Wednesday, June 13, 2012
I have been thinking about the death of Rad Bradbury for a week now. He was such an amazing writer, thinker, and brought us all to a place we may not have gone.
Didn't we all read Fahrenheit 451 in college or even in high school?
I was not introduced to his book "Dandelion Wine" until I was a beginning storyteller. I attended the Hoosier Storytelling Festival, maybe 25 years ago?, and wanted to hear Carol Birch tells stories and speak on this wonderful new adventure that I thought might be mine someday. There were no seats left, but I bought a ticket anyway from Ellen Munds and sat on the floor at the feet of Carol.
She told pieces out of Bradybury's "Dandelion Wine" and I sat there weeping on the floor. The story was so rich, so unexpected.
Over the years I have owned many copies of the book, but ultimately gave them away to folks who do not own them. I wanted to take a photo of the book, but nonetheless, my bookshelves are void of this book, once again.
Word went out in my small town last week that I needed a bottle of homemade dandelion wine. A friend of mine rode up on his motorcycle on Saturday evening with his offering of homemade wine. Whereas it is not dandelion wine (it is actually a combination of pear, mango and apple), I was thrilled as you can imagine.
So, Ray, here's to you, a bottle of almost dandelion wine sitting in the summer sun on my front porch.
Enjoy the ride, wherever you are. We shall do the same.