![]() “I wish beautiful things lived longer lives.If you grew up in rural America, a big part of summertime was fireflies. “They’re so beautiful,” said the Californian. ![]() We watched the insects fill the night with millions of tiny lights. Then, immediately after our mothers called us inside for supper, we wandered down to the creek and let them all go. “They have to make babies,” said Sandra, “or else we’ll never have lightning bugs again.” “Lightning bugs have to go free so they can make babies.” “I’m going to keep my fireflies,” said the Californian. Their little butts glowing greenish-yellow. We were mesmerized by the bright dots in our mason jars, lit up like miracles, meandering to and fro. “But why go to the trouble of catching so many if you’re just going to set them free?” “Then you let them go,” added Cousin Ed Lee. Margaret replied, “You just look at ‘em.” Once we had jars full of lightning bugs, the Californian asked, “Now what do we do with’em?” We were all chasing the nanoscopic glowing dots. It was OK to lie about catching lightning bugs because nobody paid any attention to you inasmuch as they were all busy trying to catch their own. You must (1) take the jar in your right hand then you must (2) hold the lid in your left hand then (3) you fling the jar through the air haphazardly like one who hath consumed too much moonshine whereupon you (4) slam the lid over the jar and shout, “I got one!” even if this is a lie. To catch a lightning bug, you had to have good technique: Which as it happens are neither bugs nor flies. The next thing we knew, we were all outside, using mason jars the way the Good Lord intended - to catch lightning bugs (fireflies). “What’s moonshine?” said the Californian. “These are moonshine jars,” said Margaret. We emerged from the house with Ball mason jars - something else the Californian had never seen before. So, we raided my mother’s kitchen cabinets. Replied the Californian, “You mean you can CATCH fireflies?” “Wanna catch lightning bugs?” suggested my cousin. The girls in the class went crazy for him and indicated that they would be interested in bearing his offspring someday.īut he’d never seen lightning bugs. And one time, for Show and Tell, the kid declared that he had gone surfing. Namely because he had wavy blond hair, a skateboard and he knew what tofu was. Because you see, ever since this Californian had come to our school, he immediately became the hippest kid in our hillbilly class. The Californian shook his head stating that, no, he’d never seen anything like these bugs with the iridescent hind parts. “You’ve never seen lightning bugs?” we said in disbelief. ![]() No lightning bugs? That was like not knowing Jesus. He said they didn’t have them in the Golden State. Then the Californian went on to tell us he’d never seen lightning bugs before. “What the is a firefly?” said my cousin, Ed Lee. “They’re not fireflies,” said Margaret Ann. He got excited when the front yards were alight with summer lightning bugs.Īll us kids looked at the new boy as though his cheese had slid off his cracker. A kid from California had recently moved into our neighborhood. I remember the first time I ever heard a lightning bug called a “firefly.” I was 11 years old. There are a few neighborhood kids, playing in front yards, trying to catch them with Tupperware.Īnd the memories are getting so thick you have to swat them away like gnats. ![]()
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