Glade frequenters: Bees, Beatles, buddies

Saturday 8/8/26

Are bees the best liked insects? Would they be--not a pun--if their name didn't start with a "b" and they couldn't be described as busy bees? Or without the honey factor? They can sting, yes, but that's not held against them all that much, the feeling being that they only do so if they absolutely have to, unlike wasps, who are bad sorts and will seize the sting opportunity. Bees buzz. They get a lot of good PR out of alliteration. Buzz in glades. Anyone or anything that frequents a glade is usually thought well of. Villains aren't glade frequenters. Rapists aren't glade guys. Scoundrels aren't glade guys. Would you see Lorin Stein in a glade?

B is also for Beatle. I'm writing a piece on the recordings the Beatles made at the Cavern. The Quarrymen first played the Cavern in August 1957, minus McCartney, who'd met Lennon the month before and was away at scout camp. Summer days, right? More than five years later, the Beatles were using the club as a rehearsal room. That's an especially long time in Beatles time. This spot was a fixed, comfortable point for them. Like a place you and your buddies hung out at through high school. A sub shop, a ball field parking lot.

And B is for buddy. My buddy, my six-year-old niece Amelia, went with her family to the Lake Forest carnival the other night. I guess it runs for two days in the middle of the town. My sister's family has the policy of going on one of the days each year, but not both. There are rides. You get a ticket that lets you go on any of them. This carnival is held on the same spot where in winter they flood the grass and people can skate and there's also a makeshift rink for hockey. Both the carnival and the winter scene could be something straight out of the mid-century Americana of The Great Gildersleeve.

Anyway, having gone to the carnival on its first night, Amelia decided she wanted to go again the next day and was fervent in this desire. Her mother said no, they'd already gone, so Amelia resolved to get herself there by hook or by crook.

First, she determined that she would walk to the carnival. Then, she hit upon the more practical idea of taking her bike, and her brother, Charlie, had to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't abscond. She tried to raise the necessary ticket money by scouring her room for funds, but could only produce five dollars. She also had an invite from the mom of one of her little friends, but was rebuffed in her attempt to accept it by her own mother. She is headstrong, this one.

With all her plans being thwarted, judgments--some would say cruel, albeit quickly passing, judgments--were passed against those she deemed the offending parties. (Including my mother, who also didn't help the situation, in Amelia's eyes, by not rising to the occasion and taking her. I believe Amelia referenced the "bystander effect," but I am not totally sure about that.)

Then a couple days ago the older kids went out to breakfast with their grandfather and Amelia wasn't invited. Sometimes she does get left out of things because she's younger and I feel a little bad for her about that. It's understandable at times, but she is proud--which may be the nice way of putting it--and thinks of herself (unless it's convenient not to) as being very big. But luckily she had some fun one-on-one time with her mother, who she dotes on maybe more than she should, but whatever. I was sent a picture of a scowling Amelia during said one-on-one time, but with her it's important to remember that one person's saturnine expression is another's toothy grin.