My Favorite Place- doesn’t that sound like a “theme” Raphie would have to write in A Christmas Story? Well it’s not. It’s actually the name of an improvisational game I was introduced to many summers ago.

A former classmate briefly studied at one of the major improv studios in Chicago. He came home for a bit and did a master class for the local high school theatre troupes, but of course I slid in as well.

Class began with some basic spatial awareness activities that were kind of boring, but probably very useful. We wandered around aimlessly (on purpose?) and then tried to notice things. I was kind of lost and thinking improv wasn’t for me, but then we switched gears.

My Favorite Place is a game designed to get you to think and describe your environment using your five senses. This spoke to me. I was so ready to be called on. I could practically feel the adulation of the class at the conclusion of my spiel. I was going to make everybody want to go there. 

So of course I didn’t get picked. Instead, I was treated to this insipience: 

Kid 1: “I can feel the sand in my toes. I hear the seagulls.” 

Teacher: “Okay, you are describing the beach. Let’s try someone else-let’s use even more descriptive details. How about you?”

Kid 2: I can hear the waves. I can feel how hot it is.”

Teacher: “Also the beach… Ok-let’s move on to our next game.”

To this day, I can’t let it go. Then it dawned on me- I have a blog! I can be as self indulgent as I want!

Ahem.

The sun is scalding, rebounding mercilessly from the blacktop of the parking lot. I feel the deep ridges of the quarter I am gingerly rubbing between my thumb and forefinger, trying to remember what miniscule scene has been meticulously minted on its now dull surface. This coin is the my golden ticket “to a world of pure imagination.”

As I approach the sturdy brick edifice, I am greeted by an arctic blast blowing my unruly hair from my glistening forehead, causing hundreds of goosebumps to come out to play on my sun tanned arms. 

I enter the vestibule and inhale deeply- I have arrived, grateful to be entering my favorite place. Let the games begin.

I let my fingers do the exploring as I serenely saunter, carving a thoughtful, serpentine path. I touch the raised veins of damp foliage. It feels like gossamer spun from silk. It is coming with me. I caress the slick paper of my map in my other hand, spurning me to complete my mission.

As I approach the epicenter of this magical place, my eyes are opened to a thousand delights, encompassing all shapes, sizes, and hue. But this sight is nothing compared to the intoxicating aromas wafting through my flaring nostrils.

I greedily inhale the delicate scent of vanilla, gardenia, and dozens of other flora whose presence is only detectable through their defused fragrance. This is heaven. 

I relish how short my journey has been. Despite being my favorite place, part of its allure is the rapidity in which you can enjoy its entirety. As I prepare to leave with my newfound trinkets, treasures, and sundries, I am soothed by the sound of rhythmic beeping. I feel my heart synchronize to its pulse. 

My time has come to a close, but that’s okay- I know I’ll be back again soon, able to enjoy the perfect blend of surprise and familiarity, the privilege of slowing down, and the sweet, cooling relief on a blistering summer’s day. 

Screw the beach! I’m going to…

Aldi. 

Boy it feels good to get that off my chest. Do you have a burning desire to share something that has been pent up and festering for years? Now’s your chance! Comment below.