Some Twins Purple Fireworks For A Dad and His Girl

- Definitely: start playback, then bust for 720 HD view, hover cursor near gear, lower right of vid - 
Just imagine: if Prince had mixed fireworks audio into every track, could have been such a star! 

It was a gift-wrapped, late spring night, hinting at rain, but never actually materializing. One that I could spend with my oldest daughter on a rare night off from her restaurant job. It wasn’t perfect - her sister was scheduled to work at the same venue, but you take what you can get.

Thus, I put away my stat charts, calculators and nerdball Twins stories to just enjoy time with the dear one, and buy up some frosty malts and hot dogs. The real payoff for her, however, more than the game itself (let’s not kid ourselves, here)  was the Prince umbrella giveaway and the promise of the Twins spectacular, post-game fireworks.

So, even a lousy, languid  8-2 beating at the hands of the surging Cleveland Indians (BRef Box Score) couldn't take away that goldenness. The girl made her feelings very clear about my idea to leave early and avoid possible postgame traffic, or protesters of the Philandro Castillo verdict invading local roadways. NOT favorable! So damn the consequences, we stayed to enjoy another spectacle together, because that's what you do in life. When there's joy to be had, sleep and comfort can wait. Gold-dang worth it.

And if it isn’t obvious already, the Twins devoted the evening to honoring the departed star Prince. I’ve always admired his talent, and recall vividly the mid-1980s, when “Purple Rain” took over the national charts. These days, I can pull up the Prince station on iHeart Radio and completely marvel at just how incredible his artistry was, even though I never bought an LP or CD of his while he was alive (the Twins let me in the gates, despite that). It’s been stated before, but Prince truly did light up our musical sky, and added color and passion and inventiveness to Minnesota and the world...and then poignantly disappeared one day. Isn’t that just like life?  Appearing one day with splendor and glory, and then...gone forever?

It’s a little bit like those carefree days I spent with my daughter, pushing her and her sister in a suspended rope tree swing -  where did they go?

Were we ever really that young? Was I really such a geeky goofball, trying to make them laugh with silly faces and boisterous games of tag, giving horseback rides, reading “Three Billy Goats Gruff” and “Tuck Everlasting,” or building card castles on the living room carpet??

The carefree days of their childhood are definitely past for my wife and me, have left the yard just as Herb Carneal  announced a Harmon Killebrew bomb (audio): "...It's going, going and... GONE."

And just like the wisps of pyrotechnics that reach into the night skies of Minneapolis, above the city streets where young Prince Rogers Nelson used to walk, we parents grasp at these fleeting memories, remembering old days fondly, and yet rejoicing in and savoring the present we have. When did they become so intelligent, thoughtful? So lovely and dear? Those grainy videos of kids playing in the pool and on the playground climber, who are mature, young women now? Who make me proud, and laugh, becoming who they will be?

When did that happen?

All set for the purple haze n' rain

I’ll take that payback for letting go of the past. It’s nice to think of the coming summer days and nights to hang some more with these grown kids and my wonderful wife. As long as I can go back and playback that old video once in awhile.

“So long, everybody!” - Herb Carneal