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letra de bears - peter mulvey

[airplane ambiance]

seventh of september 2008, over alaska

dear lucy
[guitar music]
off the left wing, i can see denali, the tallest mountain in north america, rearing up through the clouds. you rarely get a good look at it, from the air or from the ground, because it is so large that it makes its own weather and then hides behind it. in fact, when it’s very clear, people up here have an expression. they say, “the mountain is out today.” i’ll be landing in fairbanks in about an hour. last week, in your backyard, your father was manning his station at the grill, your aunts and uncles were all standing around, your brother was practicing his karate on the dog, and i was talking to your grandparents about a bear some scientists had found recently in the arctic that was half polar bear and half grizzly bear. from your perch on the wooden swingset, you joined the conversation. “how do they know?” you said. “how do they know what?” i said. “how do they know it was half polar bear and half grizzly bear?” “well,” i said, “i guess they checked its dna.” “what’s dna?” you asked, and i blinked. we have all at one time or another been caught in the spotlight of your six-year-old mind. “um… well… y-you know that cake you made this morning with your mom? you know the little pieces o-of flour and sugar that went into it? well, dna is kinda like that. i- it’s, uh, it’s like the little pieces that go into making living things, like people and bears and-” “and ducks?” you said. “yes! exactly! and ducks.” you sought to clarify. “but not wood.” “oh, no,” i said. “wood has dna, too, because wood is made from trees, and trees are living things, so they have dna, and- and when trees die, as all living things do, we make trees into wood.” “not us,” you said. i wasn’t sure what you meant, so i just looked at you. the swing had come to a stop. “we don’t die,” you said. *sigh* all of a sudden, everyone in the yard was listening a bit more closely to our little chat. “well… uh, lucy… w-we… we die. we’re living things, and- and living things die-” “not babies,” you -sserted, flatly. i elected to punt. “yes. yes, you’re right, babies usually don’t die. i mean- *inhale* we-we usually live a-a long, long time.” now, we all knew that you knew your question had not been answered directly. we know you. so, when you said, “yeah. lok at grandma and grandpa. they’re 62 and 64 and that’s old,” we all laughed, the way adults do when they’ve been let off the hook. and when you went in the house to get some juice, we all looked at each other and shook our heads and smiled. anyhow, kiddo, the landing gear are coming own and i gotta put up this tray table. you keep up the good work, and next time, maybe go easy on us, okay?
love
uncle peter

[guitar music stops, ambiance continues]

- peter mulvey

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