June 22nd, 2025. Mark it down, etch it in digital stone on tothegodswithlove.com and send a little whisper of it to the tireless keepers at archive.org to be recorded as a BIG save in my simulation. Tonight, the Thunder thundered. And I was right there, nestled in the familiar embrace of my parents’ living room in Oklahoma City, watching it all unfold.
You know the feeling, right? That nervous flutter before a big game? It was there, thick as the Oklahoma humidity that had been clinging to everything all day. Mom was comfortable in her night clothes (as she is any time after 7:30pm) and Dad was in his regular seat listening through his hearing-aide. It’s a ritual, this watching games with them. A comfortable, predictable kind of magic.
And tonight? Tonight was pure electricity. Every basket from Shai felt like a jolt through the worn armchair I was perched on. Every defensive stop had us all shouting at the screen like we could somehow influence the outcome with sheer volume. When the final buzzer sounded, and the confetti rained down on the Oklahoma City court, the eruption in our little living room felt just as real. Hugs were exchanged, we clapped just like we were in the stadium.
Leaving their house, the air hung heavy and sweet, thick with the promise of a summer storm that never quite broke. But the real fireworks were just beginning. As I pulled out in the trusty BMW i3, I cranked down both windshields, letting the muggy air wash over me. It felt…alive.
And then, “Filthy Dirty South” by Rising Appalachia started weaving its magic through the speakers. That raw, earthy sound, the banjo twang mingling with Leah and Chloe’s voices – it was the perfect soundtrack. Because as I drove, a new layer of sound joined the mix: the celebratory booms and crackles of fireworks echoing across the Oklahoma City sky. Each burst of light painted fleeting pictures against the dark canvas of the night.
And underneath it all, the constant, unwavering chorus of crickets. That tireless symphony of the earth. With the wind whipping through the open windows, the music washing over me, the distant fireworks painting the sky, and the crickets serenading the humid night, I had this utterly ridiculous, completely wonderful feeling of being connected to it all. Like I was somehow orchestrating this moment, a tiny conductor in my electric chariot, Mother Earth’s breath on my skin (or was I actually Mother Earth incarnated, that question always recirculates) the universe humming along to the rhythm of the win.
It’s those little moments, isn’t it? The shared joy with family, the feeling of freedom on an open road, the unexpected symphony of sounds and sensations. These are the things we hold onto. These are the threads that weave the tapestry of our lives. And tonight, the thread was gold and blue, crackling with the energy of a Thunder victory and the quiet hum of a universe unfolding exactly as it should.