The Best Is Yet To Come

The other day I came upon what I had then considered to be a very sad phrase: “The best is yet to come”. 

At first the quote seems to be absolutely radiating with positivity and untarnished optimism.  I mean, if the quote were a flower, it’d definitely be a sunflower, and if it were a person, it’d be J.K. Rowling, because that lady has probably brought joy to more children in the world than jolly old Santa himself.  It’s a phrase seemingly brimming with hope and cheer.  The best is yet to come.  It’s what you tell your girl friend, all the while helplessly watching her mascara stream mercilessly down her face after a messy break-up.  “Don’t worry, it only gets better; the best is yet to come”, you tell your wide-eyed younger sister as she’s flipping through the final pages of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.  “The best is yet to come”, you say to your friend after you miss your bus by just a few seconds.  In this case, “best” and “bus” can actually be used interchangeably.  The bus is yet to come.  You see, it’s a happy thing.  It’s why it goes, Halloween, then Thanksgiving, and then Christmas.  And when it seems like nothing can trump the best-ness that is Christmas, you get fireworks on New Year’s.  You see, right when you start to wonder how things could possibly get any better than mistletoe, stockings, candy canes, and tinsel, New Year’s surprises you with fireworks, because I mean, who doesn’t get excited by fireworks?  It, along with the list of New Year resolutions, serves as a reminder: great things, including a five-pound lighter you and money in the form of Chinese New Year, are yet to come.

And then I thought about it.  But what if, while waiting for the best to come, you miss out on the best things in the present?  What if the best is doing cartwheels right in front of you and you’re turned the other way?  Instead of waiting for better times, shouldn’t we be making the best out of the current moments?  Shouldn’t we be jumping out of our seats to join in on those cartwheels?  I mean, after thinking about it a bit more, if the saying were a person, it’d actually be Severus Snape—well intentioned, but very, very misleading.

I was sitting in my last pair of clean underwear last night contemplating, waiting for a load of fresh laundry to finish up.  Desperation takes on a whole new meaning once you reach college.  So there I was, desperate and in complete agreement with the phrase, because nothing screams “better times” like a huge, heaping load of clean panties guaranteed to last me two weeks.  Putting off any form of productivity by scrolling through iPhoto, taking a nice, leisurely stroll down memory lane, I realized something.  Sure, clean undies may lay ahead, but the chandelier tree lay behind me.  Actually, it didn’t just lay…it sparkled.

Located on 2811 W Silverlake Dr, Los Angeles, CA 90039, the chandelier tree began as a way to display several vintage chandeliers too large and grand for Adam Tenenbaum's home. 

Over time, the collection grew, as did the number of admirers and the support from the city of Silverlake.  You could actually show your support by donating some spare change in the parking meter to help cover the electricity costs and keep the tree lit!

On the day we went, we were actually bummed to find the tree unlit, but at the arrival of a larger group, we actually went up to and knocked on Mr. Tenenbaum's door and he was more than happy to turn on the lights for us!

It was simply magical!  If you're in the area, you really do need to put it on your list to visit.  I definitely plan on making another visit around the holidays...I guess the best is yet to come!

Yours,

Kimmy