Boom Boom

The good folks of Miami generally only listen to one song, and it goes like this:  "Boom, Boom, Boom." Sometimes there are slight variations in the all purpose song, such as BOOM BOOM BOOM! and every now and then there are a few colorful words sprinkled in the BOOM BOOM BOOM. Very seldom do you hear any song in public that contains anything but boom, and a few sprinkles of colorful words. Which is why I find it so funny that one of the songs that marks my trip to my hometown is Through the years,  By Kenny Rogers, because I have not really heard this song in years and I suddenly heard it many times in Miami of all places.
It was a dark and beautiful Miami evening when I first heard it.  My father, my old man, came to pick our little family up at the Ft. Lauderdale airport at the ungodly hour of 1:00 in the morning, East Coast time. We hoped into the familiar old Ford Explorer that has faithfully toted me around town for many years, and took our hour drive to our final destination, my childhood house. As we drove deeper and deeper into the heart of South Florida, I began to see massive concrete of all sorts rising into the night sky, and strange ugly monstrous buildings laden with glowing advertising.  A beautiful palm tree sprung up here and there, and I took a deep breath and sighed.  "I am finally home."

Just then the song came on:  Through the years...Through all the good and bad, I know how much we had...

Sometimes, Miami, you have a funny way of bringing me back to something special.  All the many years I spent with you, the good the bad, the loud, the concrete, the immense awful heat....you have a way of bringing me back to something special.  And I thank cheesy Kenny Rogers song for enhancing the experience.

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I was very excited to show my childhood home to our two children.  We arrived late in the night and they were wide awake from all the excitement.  We spent a lot of money and traveled thousands of miles with our littlest screaming all the way and an old woman scolding me for my  kid kicking her seat.  Our children ran into the house and did not say hello to Grandma or Grandpa.  They did not look around with awe and wonder at the tropical foliage in the dark, or  look at our house and say "this is where mama was a little girl." They ran straight to a pile of toys in the corner and with a shrill of excitement in their voice said "WOAH, TOYS!!!" as if they had never seen them  before.