We needed a new perspective on things....

We needed a new perspective on things. To see the world with the kind of stripped-down wonder that had deserted us when we turned a sour adolescent. We told our wife of our plans.

“We’re going to spend the night in the car,” we said, “pretending to be a visitor from another planet hurtling through space for a rendezvous with Earth. In the morning, when we land, everything will seem fresh and new.”

“Take something to eat,” she said.

We rolled the back of our car seat down, so our position would in some way resemble how the astronauts used to look on television as NASA technicians busily (and somewhat tenderly, we thought) prepped them for flight before shutting the capsule door.

Then we climbed inside and flashed the thumbs-up sign.

Our wife turned off the house lights. We settled in to watch the show. A full moon, brilliantly lit, bathed our “capsule” and us in a warm glow. As it made its way across the sky and set, the stars became more visible. We could make out the Big Dipper, and Orion, and saw a much brighter star that hung just above the outline of the trees in our yard. A planet, perhaps?

We had brought along some Grateful Dead, Mozart, a Brahms cello sonata and, for landing, Miles Davis’ “Birth of the Cool.”

Watching the approach of morning brought to mind something that Thomas Mann wrote: “. . . that first sweet reddening of the farthest strip of sea and sky that manifests creation to man’s senses.”

We left our capsule behind, walking somewhat awkwardly down the street to see what we could find:

A woman, watering her grass, looked up at the sky and smiled. “I’m just crazy over those clouds,” she said. “They’re right outta Iowa.”

A man, walking his dog, talked out loud as we passed. “I was with a woman for 40 years,” he said. “One day, she’s flip city. Marriage? Ain’t worth it.”

A young girl, still in her pajamas, was playing out on the sidewalk. “I’m a pearl in the making,” she said.

We thought of asking them, “Take us to your leader,” but that line had been beaten into the ground.

Anyway, how much better to be brought to the exhibition of architectural drawings and projects being sponsored by the Los Angeles chapter of the National Organization of Minority Architects. It’s at the Baldwin Hills Crenshaw Plaza beginning at 5 p.m. today. Admission is free. Call (213) 291-1302.

Also worthy of any interplanetary visitor’s wish list is St. Monica High School’s 31st annual Oktoberfest, featuring entertainment, a 5K-10K race, arts and crafts, carnival rides and games. It’ll be held from 6 to 11 p.m. Friday and 8 a.m. to 11 p.m. Saturday. The school is located at 725 California St., Santa Monica. Admission is $1. For race registration and information, call (213) 458-6168.

And we couldn’t leave without stopping by for the opening celebration of the Bobbie Greenfield Fine Art Gallery, which will feature “Christo: The Umbrellas, Japan, USA, 1984-1991.” Reception from 6 to 9 p.m. Friday and 2 to 5 p.m. Saturday. The gallery is located at 74 Market St., Venice. Admission is free. Call (213) 392-1771.

Everything did seem wild and new, as if each beat of our heart brought a small shock to our senses. We had the sensation of floating and a giddy freedom.

We hurried home, feeling crazy. We threw open the windows and doors and let the day inside. There was suddenly time to do everything, time to see and hear and listen.

And time to love our wife with all the madness in our heart.