Transcript
A (0:00)
Tis the season of gifting and holes to deck and the who's in Whoville were in love with new tech. Where can we find Sonos and Samsung and Nintendo? They shouted. Would they find it in one place? This they questioned and doubted when suddenly a who yelled, walmart's the place to start. And each who added headphones, TVs and games to their carts with Walmart, their shopping was done in a flurry. They cried out, who knew? And ordered their gifts in a hurry. Shop the latest tech gifts in the.
B (0:29)
Walmart app with stays under $250 a night. VRBO makes it easy to celebrate sweater weather. Book a cabin with leaf views or a home with a fire pit for nights with friends with stays under $250 a night. Find a home for your exact needs. Book now@vrbo.com.
C (0:51)
I'm Maggie Smith and this is the Slow down the experience of aging, of having a birthday, is so exciting for children. I remember when my kids reached double digits. That was a big deal. This year is the first year I have not one, but two teenagers. My son will be 12 one day, 13 the next. I'm sure he'll look the same, sound the same, be the same. But he's also excited about turning 13, turning into someone who was more his own and less mine. Aging feels different as an adult, but every birthday is an opportunity to take stock and to be grateful for the years we've lived. Who knows what we might be turning toward or into when we turn a year older? Today's poem introduced me to a new word for longing or yearning, and it showed me a way to use that expansive desire as a frame for the magic of everyday life. Zeynezucht by Michael Damanis My daughter says six is her favorite year ever, though she suspects that seven will be better. Her dress spins down the corridor. It's made of butterflies and billowing like the memory of a chocolate souffle. Was I ever more like her than like me? Shoulders not flagging, breath hot with awe as I sidestepped each stone, the promise of age. Like a helium balloon dragging me behind it on a flouncy string, my daughter tries to show me everything. She's left a mark on painted clay, a smiley faced cotton ball perched on a stick, her name in all caps on an envelope. Does she already, somewhere in her spleen or pancreas, in the soft tissues and marrow, sense that the impossible goal is for all of us just to keep going? No, she is not grieving over Golden Grove. Whatever. Six is her favorite year ever, I feel not so much nostalgia as Zeynzukt, the desire for something missing. Vertigo. Under the infinite sky, we crane our twin heads as a falcon or drone pierces the cloud cover into the future. How to get closer to the mystery? Older she will do whatever, name a new nation, isolate a microbe, hear the whales mutter the muscadine water. Every time the regimes change, she will dance Swan Lake, bending her knees at the requisite intervals. Atta girl, daughter. The economy continues to show resilience in the face of despair and mass depredation. My daughter is swan, is crabgrass run riot. Meanwhile, I am becoming unrecognizable to everyone except myself, and it does not matter before it is time to resemble no one. I have had the mixed fortune to resemble most things. My shadow lingers in the corner of the photo of the painting. I may not know more than a bedraggled llama craning its neck past the impregnable fence. Still, I participated in the world. I wore the ceremonial knee breeches required by protocol, led her through ferryboats and Ferris wheels, this ardent daughter clinging to my hand as though it was God's hand on a church ceiling. We took turns licking the strawberry ice cream. In this knowledge I feel content. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter. And find us on Instagram at Slowdown show and blueskylowdownshow.org Foreign hey, it's Maggie. Every weekday, the Slowdown delivers the creativity and care of poetry to all free of charge, and your support makes it possible. Donating to the Slowdown is easy. Just go to slowdownshow.org donate to make your gift in less time than it takes to listen to an episode.
