My readers with Flagstaff roots know what (actually, where) I'm talking about. That's the flashback I had yesterday.
We'd been planning to visit the SunWatch Indian Village for some time, and, with the Native Flute Gathering happening this weekend, we thought it would be the perfect opportunity. (David's love of live music has been previously documented.) The SunWatch Indian Village is an archaeological site and recreated Native American village of the Fort Ancient people, who lived from about 1000-1650 along the Ohio River.
The big hit of our visit was the canoe. David jumped right in, grabbed a paddle, and began singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat." When I put Mary in with him, he was concerned that she didn't have her own paddle, so he found another, for which she was very grateful.
After a ride in the canoe, we circled the village, looking in the reconstructed buildings and trying to read the informational signs (as much as David would let us). It was quite interesting, but I'll spare you the details. By the time we finished our jaunt through the village, the next performer at the Flute Gathering was beginning to play. David, as expected, was interested in listening:
I, however, was not. Sorry. I'm not quite sure what I expected (maybe some lighthearted tunes on Andean flutes?), but it wasn't a very earnest Douglas Bluefeather playing New Age music with song titles like "Setting of the Sun and Rising of the Moon" and "Flight of the Owl, Call of the Wolf." This was when I had the Crystal Magic flashback. Any number of other things could have popped into my head: the smell of incense, Pilates class (when the substitute teaches--the regular teacher prefers Blondie (!)), the used book store across from Amoeba Music in Berkeley, or the spa I've never been to. But, in my mind, there I was standing around in Crystal Magic, looking at the lotions, dream catchers, and, of course, magic crystals, because, well, what else do you do in downtown Flagstaff with your friends while you're all trying to pretend that there actually is something to do in downtown Flagstaff when you should all just give up and go back to the 5-7-9 at the mall. After recovering from the shock of realizing that I have memories of Crystal Magic (of all places), I tried to listen to dear Douglas Bluefeather, and I soon concluded that his tunes are best listened to as background music to Pilates class (though they're certainly not as motivating as Blondie!), browsing in a New Age bookstore, or playing in the dirt (which is what David was doing by this point). Not as the center of your attention in the August heat. But Mary, bless her heart, was the first person in the history of the world to clap along to New Age music.
Despite the fact that the kids seemed to like good old Douglas Bluefeather just fine, it was dang hot, and Mary was desperately trying to join her brother in the dirt, clearly with the agenda to eat it. So David took one more spin the the canoe, and we left.
For the record, although I try my best to avoid a direct response, under pressure I will concede an answer to the very complicated question, "Where are you from?" The answer is Flagstaff, Arizona. Why? The short of it is because I went to high school there, and the long of it is a post for another day. So I enjoyed our little visit to the SunWatch Indian Village because I got two trips for the price of one: a trip back in time a thousand years and a trip back in time fifteen years. Thank you, Douglas Bluefeather, for reminding me of . . . my roots?
