Many years ago (your sister would have been about five-years-old at the time) I had a night when I was having trouble sleeping. I got out of bed and went into our family room (it would have been in our home in Belleville, IL) and turned on the TV. I flipped channels for a while until I came upon the film from the legendary concert at Woodstock in 1969. It's a bit dated (you'll know what I mean if you ever see it), but the music is really good and I figured it was a good way to relax until I was tired enough to go back to bed.
A short while after I began watching, Peanut awoke and came out and joined me. I suppose many Dads would have taken her little hand and led her back to bed, but she cuddled up next to me and God knows I worked so many hours that I never got enough time with her (or your brother).
We watched mostly in silence for a few minutes--the movie has alternating scenes of the musicians playing and the antics of the people in attendance. We watched a scene with people talking about how "groovy" it was, and "far out, man."
Peanut turned to me and said, "Daddy, these people are weird."
We watched a while longer and came upon another scene with people bathing in a pond. Again Peanut turned to me and said, "Daddy, these people are really weird."
We watched a bit more--a few songs, some other scenes. Once more Peanut looked at me, but this time she said, "Daddy, these people are really weird but they sure look like they're having a lot of fun."
I relate this story about your sister because I think it captures her spirit perfectly, even to this day. She often does find life to be very strange--but realizes that that strangeness also makes it a whole hell of a lot of fun.
And being a journalist is like having a front row seat.
The End
