6/8

So what daddy? I’m proud of my nerdiness.

This from my 1o year old son, after I had called him a nerd.

“Why’d you call him a nerd?

Well, because he likes things like Dr. Who, Star Wars, Godzilla AND legos. And i mean he really LIKES these things. Half of our supper can easily be stolen away from us listening to him describe how the original Cybermen would be no match for the newer versions of the same. He even entered his lego creation into a TARDIS competition – it was really quite impressive.

“So? Why’d you call him a nerd?”

Well, because i was playing with him, and well, because a good portion of the things on his list, he picked up from me in the first place.

“And…?”

And, well, i thought it was just going to be funny… i mean, it was.

“But only after…”

After what?

“After he made it funny, with his comment.”

I suppose… but we were just playing. Just good fun.

“But how many times while you were growing up was your dad ‘just playing’ – only you didn’t think it was very fun at all?”

Well…

“Exactly. So maybe you should think a little bit next time, because your ‘just playing’ might not be perceived as such by a boy of 10 years. A boy who is on his way, but still not totally sure of himself. A boy, who might in fact, even see it as hurtful. You think?”

i think.

“Good, then prove it next time. OK?  Now, go out – play n’ have some fun!”

6/7

In my family, we have a habit of rubbing our hands together briskly whenever we’re excited about something or really enjoying ourselves. And when i listen to Stan Getz, my hands damned-near catch fire.

i don’t actually know that much about Getz, besides the fact that i believe he was somewhat of a junkie, he screwed around with his friends wife, and oh, he used to dabble in music a bit.

The junk is almost the stuff of legend in certain circles. And time after time i hear it being credited with the key to his genius. Now don’t get me wrong, that cat could Blow!, but i have to wonder, did the drugs add to – or actually hinder – his genius?  i mean, what would he have produced had he stayed “straight” instead?

Now again, i’m not clear as to what was his drug of choice was (nor do i care, really). But i can tell you, during my little foray into “substance experimentation”, never did i try one that compelled me onto greatness of any sort, let alone moments of “genius”. In fact, the only real compulsion ever experienced during those times was simply towards consuming as many beef and cheese burritos as possible.

The microwavable kind.

That being said, as a wiser and older man (well, older at any rate), i no longer feel that drugs are necessary “for growth”, “fun at parties” or are even “cool”.  Much like many before me, i grew out of it, i moved on. In part because of stories such as the one concerning the death of Jimmy Hendrix (i won’t repeat it here, but you should look it up – definitely not the way i want to go…) and also because of people like Stan Getz. i read that he ended up moving to Copenhagen to “escape” his drug habits, and quite frankly, i just don’t have that kind of cash.

The first time i heard “Jazz Samba”, i almost fell asleep. The second time i heard it, i almost fell out of my chair. Despite the fact that Getz had a drug problem, despite even the fact that he turned down Juilliard for a career in jazz, he was a genius. And that cat really could blow!

6/6

They’ve come.

Always in pairs, and always to the right-hand side of the front door, they’ve come. Adriondack-style  chairs. Sometimes wood, but most often plastic – and almost always the oversized variety – this phenomenon  seems to have become the next “big thing”, in my neighborhood at least.

i’ve noticed in part because we take a walk almost every single night that i don’t have school (weather permitting and sometimes, not). And on almost every single one of those walks, i find at least a couple of more pair that seem to have simply dropped out of the sky. Landing always to the right-hand side of the front door.

Another reason i’ve noticed them is because every single set i’ve noticed, every single time i’ve noticed them, are empty. Most decidedly empty. Never once have i ever seen these chairs being used in any fashion, let alone being sat upon. Not ever. (well, once i did actually see a nice couple reclining in theirs – even said “hello” to us – but that kind of info would work against the otherwise bleak tone of my note, so we’ll just ignore it and move on, shall we?)

What does all this mean? Other than the fact that the folks who make these Adriondack-style  chairs are doing pretty well for themselves, i’m not sure really.

But it does get me to thinking – what is it about our National DNA that causes us to have so many “things” we never use? I mean, it’s not just the chairs that are empty and unused, but the entire front lawn as well – and based on how quiet our walks are, i would assume the backyards as well (and no, i never have gathered up the nerve to actually look over fences in an effort to validate my theory).

If we don’t use it, i could assume it means we don’t need it. And if we don’t need it, why are we still hanging on to it? Isn’t there someone else who may be in need? Aren’t there better things to invest our money into than token items that will serve no real purpose other to simply “adorn” our lives and add to our social “property value”?

i know, that’s reading a lot into a bunch of unused, mostly plastic, Adriondack-style  chairs. And as before, i’m not sure what the answer is. i’m not even sure if it needs to be asked (but feel pretty strongly that it does). i am sure, however, that if i notice the unused chairs – the animals that live in our neighborhood do as well. i hope at least they’ll make use of them.

6/2, pt 2

“I stepped in, to a burnin’ ring of fire…”

One of many a song that i heard the remake of before i experienced the original. And when that happens, both the remake and the original suffer.

The remake obviously is injured because a bit of its perceived “genius” is lost forever the moment the original is heard.

Similarly, the original suffers because it usually sounds a little “less than” when compared to it’s faster, louder and slicker imitator.

Quite often however, it’s the listener that suffers most. A little slap in the face – when you realize that this song isn’t actually “yours” at all, but rather must be shared with a different place and time altogether – that can sting quite a bit. Never mind the fact that when you don’t hear the original first, you kinda miss – well – hearing the original first.

“I stepped in, to a burnin’ ring of fire…”

Sorry Johnny, but i still hear the Social D. version everytime i play this one on my mental radio.

6/2

Fast food is important to the life of a family.

 

If you’re anything like us, it’s usually served up as a result of a special occasion and/or extra money being available. It’s important to the parents because it usually means there is extra money is available (a sight rarely seen), and it’s important to the kids because; well, because it’s fast food.

 

And it sometimes comes with a toy.

 

Wendy’s in particular is a current hit with my family, and yes, (among other things) it’s because the burgers are square. C is a vegetarian, so her willingness to go on these family outings is extra proof of her devotion. To be clear, while a vegetarian in nature, she does partake in an annual Italian sausage, provided by one of the various summer festivals we attend. But really, how could she not?

 

When we have the opportunity to have fast food, we also take the opportunity to break all (most) of the rules.

We eat on the floor instead of the table.

We watch TV.

We eat with our fingers instead of silverware (well, that last one doesn’t count so much as far as breaking a rule goes – i mean, whoever heard of eating a burger and fries with utensils? Please don’t tell me if you’re one of the ones who does…).

In short, we make an event out of celebrating an event – we make the extra money go an extra long way.

 

Fast food is important to the life of a family – to the life of my family.

It’s pretty yummy as well.