The slo-mo effect

It was one of those bright blue Sunday afternoons that Kansans know only come with a bite of chill in the air. The usually warm-day haze of humidity and gunk in the air, that can be seen as a rather brown haze on the horizon was gone. Replaced with a bright, glowing yellow sun, and a blue sky that could be used to perfectly describe the color sky-blue. There was a bit of chill in the air, but not quite enough to see your breath, or even for a jacket.

The keys tumbled in the air. The bright sun shooting little twinkles on the metal as they turned end-over-end. Things seemed to be moving in slow motion (slo-mo as they say in the 'biz'). I have experienced the slo-mo effects only a couple of times in my life, and I can pretty much remember them.

The first time I was cognizant of it was in grade school, during a pick-up neighborhood baseball game. The batter hit the ball and I was playing shortstop I think. The ball sailed up and up and was coming right for me. I jumped with all my strength. It felt like I was ten feet in the air, making a dramatic catch that even Cookie Rojas would envy. Time slowed to a crawl, my mind was working at regular speed, but my actions, and everyone's actions were in slo-mo. The ball hit my glove and everything sped up to normal speed again. I caught the ball, the batter (Kenny, maybe?) was out. I'm certain the play was not nearly as dramatic as I had imagined it being. Just as sure of that, as I am that I probably only jumped about 6 inches off the ground (maybe 10, but I was a really fat kid, and I'm not sure I could have jumped 10 inches).

As the slo-mo effect came into being, the keys were tumbling and turning through the air, No. 1 Son was half visible behind the van. He was walking around behind to get to the driver's side as I was heading to the passenger door. His head was cocked slightly to the side in that way that he does, a sly smile on his face was made crooked by the one eye that was squinting in the bright sun. Calmly, and with purpose and confidence, he raised his hand and allowed the keys to hit his palm as he closed his fingers around them. The slo-mo effect subsided just as he gave me a knowing wink, his face full of pride and expectation.

I remember what it was like. To be a teenager, to still be new enough at driving that getting to do so is a treat. A treat that you feel should be cherished because who knows when it will come again. It is all at the discretion of the parents as to whether a teen with a learner's permit will get to drive. I think I know exactly how he felt at that moment.