I wasn’t going to watch the Super Bloom this year. It’s just gotten too commercial. What is it now – seven hours? Still, it’s only that long becase people want to watch it, right? So many of the top ThoughtStreams are previewed there, so even if you’re not into all that green ‘n’ color, it’s quite an event. And I do think there’s something so almost – well – sacred about the way familes gather in the same V-room to experience it. All the jokes, all the fake arguments over people’s favorites, everyone home-cooking chicken and fries from the same algorecipe.
My friend Anne’s a Blooming fanatic – she follows it all year round, even goes to see some of it live. It’s all a bit too intense for me. I couldn’t tell a lily from a pansy, and germinating schedules make my head spin. But I’m glad she derives such pleasure from it. Lord knows, a lot of the things I spend my time on must seem horribly arcane and pointless to her. And probably are, when you get right down to it.
So I’ll probably port with her to a party somewhere. Or maybe it’ll just be the two of us, which to be honest I think I’d prefer anyway. Most weekends we port together anyway, Blooming season or no. I gave her full V-Room access, so when I get home from work her avatar’s right there, ready to give me a hug. I got creeped out at first by her being home before me, almost waiting for me (though of course she’s at her home, too, obviously.) But now it’s lovely. She’s a good friend.
Now that I’m writing about it and all, I’m almost kinda looking forward to the whole Super Bloom thing, in a nostalgic kind of way. There’ll be the purple crocuses, of course, everybody celebrates those. I like when they use the peonies to carry the bloom up to halftime. Oh, and I do hope we see those bursts of yellow – what are they called? (I have deFine turned off – I know, I’m weird. Whatever). Those yellows are amazing. It’s like the sun exploding or something.
People around here are all saying New England’s going to win. So I guess I’ll root for Jacksonville, because I tend to root for the underdog. Anne’s a Seattle fan, since she was born there, technically, so I expect she’ll want New England to lose, too. At least it’s not Shanghai-Dubai again this year.
But the game’s kinda immaterial. I just like the whole circus of the thing. And like I say, the nostalgia of it all. It’s amazing, in this day and age, that they have the event all in one place. I believe it’s at the three-mile stadium in Dallas this year. I can’t remember what name it goes by now, the sponsors change so fast. And of course the purists keep saying it should be moved back to Pasadena, where it used to always be – but that’s not very realistic since it all happened, is it? I heard there’s a ThoughtStream about California Dreaming, it’s supposed to be very sentimental and sweet. I’ll have the Kleenex ready.
Even though I was never a huge Super Bloom fan, and rarely pay attention to the Blooming most of the year: as a kid, all Super Bloom night, I used to sit transfixed as the stadium filled up with all that green ‘n’ color. Who didn’t? There was something about seeing it live, everybody wanted to be there. Of course, as a teen I fantasized about actually attending, but I never made that kind of green. And that’s just for the hobbyists, anyway – experiencing it in the V-Room is just as good.
Call me crazy, but thinking about it now I may actually join the hobbyists this year. Start a garden or something, who knows? Or at least see the local flowers. It’s not like it only happens at the Super Bloom. There’s a park in every city, not to mention the gardens in every Big Dollar. Maybe I’ll join one of the pure season parks so I actually have to wait for the flowers. I kinda like the sound of that, somehow. Must be a thrill when they come up. Though I hear, sometimes, they don’t. Even in the Super Bloom, mistakes are made now and again. That’s part of the fun of it, I guess.
I’m decided, my mind’s made up! I’m going to celebrate Spring this year. Not just the Super Bloom – the whole dang season. Find a plot somewhere and plant something. With my own hands. Maybe one of those yellow guys.
The park’s only a few blocks ride from me. I’m blessed. There’s a couple of bonsai in our foyer. Still, I wonder what it was like, back in the days when Spring happened everywhere, and trees bloomed on every street corner in some towns.