When the Search Itself Becomes the Gift
Find Waldo Passport
Did you ever take golf or tennis lessons? And theoretically learned about hitting the sweet spot of a club, racket, or bat? As a later-in-life-golfer, I think hitting the sweet spot of my seven iron or five wood is positively orgasmic. Since I am about to describe how a day spent with grandchildren hit a life sweet spot for me, referencing “orgasm” in the same paragraph is probably cringe-worthy. Metaphors can be complicated.
I am relishing spending time this summer in Evanston, Illinois, with my granddaughter, Maya, who is on the verge of becoming a middle schooler, and her brother, Ru, who is entering the fourth grade. As a recovering parent, I know how quickly time transforms little people into big people who have their own notions about how and with whom they choose to spend their time. As of this writing, I am still on their list of preferred people. Of course, I burn a lot of calories maintaining this privileged position. “I’m bored” is a whine I’ve banned from Camp Kitchens.
“Waldo is hiding in downtown Evanston’s local businesses! Can you find him?” read the announcement posted on storefront windows and the city’s website. A scavenger hunt?! Scavenger hunts and charades are two of my favorite games, and fortunately, I had two willing partners who share the same values. We clocked six hours and 3.11 miles as we visited twenty participating businesses collecting coveted passport stamps in our own version of the odyssey.
As a newly transplanted Evanstonian, I discovered several local businesses I will frequent in the future, such as Penzeys Spices, where the sweet smell of cinnamon and the rich earthiness of coriander and cumin welcomed our threesome. The kids’ fav was the Alley Gallery where their mascot, Jessica, a forty-year-old parrot, hosted the store’s search.
Visiting with Jessica, the 40 year old mascot at Alley Gallery
The proprietors cleverly concealed this red and white striped, black-spectacled character behind gift boxes, bicycle bells, and art supplies. A Waldo cutout even peeked out from an arrangement of pink peonies at the Saville Flower shop. Our pilgrimage included pauses for lunch and a cornhole tournament, and to pet the fifteen or so puppies we encountered along the way. My heart performed summersaults each time Ru sweetly asked, “Can I pet your dog?” Our last stamp was issued by the Evanston Public Library. “Roll up the windows!” Ru pleaded as we headed home. “I don’t want all our work to fly out the window.” “Can we play the soundtrack from Rocky?” he asked as we high-fived our successful venture.
I think the prize for the diligent Waldo seekers is the possibility of winning a gift card in a grand prize drawing from Bookends and Beginnings, the initiator of the “Where’s Waldo” challenge. My prize was a day spent strategizing, high fiving, eating, laughing, and connecting with two people I love most in the world. Writing about this adventure helps me re-live it, minus the sore feet, thank the lord.