There is a history of people sitting on rooftops. It goes beyond the superhero history of Batman and his ilk sitting atop a roof peering across a darkened city. The history of rooftop sits clearly predates that and my own knowledge of said history, but I get why it is cool.
I grew up in an apartment building. Half the time I was on the 16th floor leaning off a terrace and staring down into concrete mass of New York City. There is a calmness at the higher altitudes. There is a sense that everything below you is separate from your own existence and you, quiet watcher, are Uatu–carefully observing but never interfering. I feel the same on rooftops now as I did up high in the apartments. I feel separate, safe, even intimately connected with the webwork of lives spiraling outward from the points of my vision.
This is a powerful feeling.
Some Thoughts:
- My kids are slowly (and resistantly) learning to respect my boundaries when I am writing. I already forced two off this rooftop, but it wasn’t three! This must be progress.
- Tonight marks the last gasp of Lebron as a Cav. Even if I am wrong about that, I know for certain they cannot win a game on the road to bring the series back to Cleveland. I also recognize that Cleveland traded for a number of players which they can ‘money ball’ a franchise around until their cheapskate, racist, unapologetic, and above all else entitled owner can draft a player with the number one pick a la Philly. I don’t trust that process and no self respecting fan should. Cleveland had their moment. Akron’s favorite son did his duty and now he’s off to… hell, I don’t know where he is going. He loves him some Cp3, so maybe he goes to Houston and helps get another title. If the Rockets had Lebron in a passing role (Harden is best with the ball in his hands) they would rip down the Warriors–no question. Lebron already said he has nothing left to prove and I believe him. I believe the world believes him. I believe he believes it too. At this point, he’s playing for fun.