Today I had to take Henry to the doctor (diagnosis: strep throat. Yay.). He loves looking at the fish tank in the office. He turned to me after awhile and said, "Daddy, when I get older I want to take pictures of the fish I see when I go sailing." I told him I thought it was a good idea. Then I started thinking. Why not now? So I quit reading whatever it was that I was reading on my phone and handed it to him. "You should take some now." He did a pretty good job.
After the doctor, I had some work to do at home. Henry started drawing in his notebook. He would bring it over every so often to have me write someone's name (The King of Dak, Bulka9 the Ship Eater) over a drawing. The one above, is Lord Torture and what I feel could be the opening scroll to the movie Henry says he is going to write, Star Wars XX. From the picture: "The dark side is invading the rebel's home planet. Torture has been running with some good guy blood and making droids to invade the rebel's hiding place. The bad guys have been striking them down because that's what Torture wanted them to do." Maybe we should get started on this sooner rather than later.
I watched The Empire Strikes Back with Henry last night. It was his first viewing. He had me read the crawl to him, which I did with delight. He asked a few questions as the movie went on. “Is the emperor a ghost like Obi-wan?” No, Darth Vader is using FaceTime to talk to him. “Is the force real?” Sort of. “What does he mean by there is another?” You’ll find out.
We got to the reveal. “No, I am your father.” Oh my god, his face. I wish I would’ve taken a picture of it. His jaw dropped, literally, and he looked at me and then hid his face in a pillow. To be that young again and not know that Vader is Luke’s father. I have been trying for years to keep that revelation from him and it paid off.
This morning when he was getting dressed he said to me, “I love you Daddy” and I replied with, “I know” which got a big smile and laugh of recognition. So awesome.
During "Secret Friend" time last night, Henry wrote a song about an astronaut visiting the moon and various planets. Here's that song. Also, we took an album cover shot. He insisted on the turtle statue.
We are currently in New York for my brother-in-law's wedding. We were able to take a day off from the preparation and make a trip into the City with Henry. It was a whirlwind tour and we ended up walking nearly 10 miles through the Natural History Museum and Central Park, but it was one of the best days I've ever spent in the City.
It breaks your heart. It was designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then, just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops. Today, October 2, a Sunday of rain and broken branches and leaf-clogged drains and slick streets, it stopped, and summer was gone.
-- A. Bartlett Giamatti
I read this every year. I didn't really watch much baseball this year. A few games here and there, Jeter's last game at Yankee Stadium. This was the first year since high school that I haven't participated in fantasy baseball. I'm not sure why. I just wasn't into it this year. But I still love the game, mostly in the ways that Giamatti's essay states.
This morning, for some reason, I was thinking about when my dad had his motorcycle accident when I was 10. I thought of him being pretty old at that time, but he was only 31. Then there was the time that he put the Nolan Ryan beating on Robin Ventura picture from the paper on my door. He wrote, “Don’t mess with old men!” on the front of it. He was 37. He was my age. I don’t feel old most days. At least, I don’t feel as old as he seemed to me at the time. Time is weird.
This morning, on our way to the car, Henry saw a frog hopping down across the yard and into the driveway. He followed it as I said, “Ok, it’s time to go. Enough with the frog! Come on!” After I said that, I felt awful. He’s curious. He wants to learn and I’m rushing him because I don’t want to be late for work. It’s a terrible feeling. I don’t really want to be that dad. At the same time, I have to be at work by a certain time. I’ve got to come up with new ways to express that though instead of being exasperated.
When I dropped him off at school, I started to have a mini panic attack. My eyes teared up. My breath was short. I just wanted to take him back and jump in the car for an adventure. I feel like I don’t do enough.
Then I remembered yesterday. On the way to school, he asked me about the Capitol. He said we had fun naming all the “governments.” Then he said that the comic book store was our secret place. He sings along to Decemberists and The Smiths. He has a wonderful imagination. So maybe I am doing something right.
A Malaysian airliner was shot down yesterday over Ukraine. The current suspicions are on pro-Russian separatists or Russia itself. There are reports of a phone call stating “shit it was a civilian plane" and one of the bigwigs says "it can't be. Why were they in Ukrainian airspace. They must be transporting spies.” This is how WWIII is going to start.
Not to mention the Israel - Gaza situation. Rocket attacks from Hamas on Israel. Israel is sending in troops to Gaza to retaliate. This is a powder keg waiting on a spark.
All of this going on and yet life continues on. Customers still open tickets. Jokes are still made. The Earth still spins. Days come and days go.
I am frozen by the fear of failure. So frozen that I never even try. The DFW quote captures what goes on in my head. I have ideas. I have plans. I never follow through because I know they will never be what I want. This in turn causes frustration with myself and self loathing. I don't know why I can't just try and fail. Who is watching, waiting on me to fail? No one but me.
I missed my fives last week. Oh well, what are you going to do right? Get back up on the horse and all that. Here goes:
I ordered myself some new glasses this week. I went with Warby Parker and the "Nash" style in Black/Grey. I've got to say, it is really hard to pick out a new face.
I found this website, Tiii.me. It calculates the time you've spent watching TV as you enter seasons you have watched. For example, watching nine seasons of Seinfeld takes 3 Days, 18 hours. Kind of depressing right? I've probably seen all those episodes at least three times each. That's 11 days, 6 hours for just that series. Wow. I probably shouldn't watch as much TV.
A baseball player for the Mets, Daniel Murphy, has caught some flack for missing the first two games of the season for attending the birth of his first child. Who are these neanderthals? This isn't the 1950s. It's totally ridiculous. I personally think that there should be mandatory paid leave for both mothers AND fathers when a baby is born.
Want to know one of my biggest pet peeves? When someone sends you an email then comes into your office and says, "Hey I just sent you an email." and then proceeds to tell you EXACTLY WHAT IS IN THE EMAIL that was sent one minute ago. Let me have time to read the thing!
The How I Met Your Mother finale. I have not watched the last two or three seasons and only watched a couple from this season. Kristin and I decided to watch the final two to see how it wrapped up. I, for one, did not like it. I didn't like that the whole last season was a build up to the Robin and Barney wedding and then in the space of ten minutes they had them divorced (so Old Ted would have a chance). I didn't like that they killed off the mother as well. I saw a fan cut on YouTube were they ended the show with Ted talking to the mother on the train platform. That would've been perfect. You didn't have to have the stupid, awkward kid reactions. Anyway, Alan Sepinwall says it much better than I can here and here.
David Letterman is retiring. When I was a kid, I was really into late night TV, especially Johnny Carson and Letterman. Dave was the perfect amount of snark and smarminess. Late night won't be the same without him. Also, I kind of love that R.E.M.'s Mike Mills broke the story.
I started reading Harriet the Spy for the first time since I was like eleven years old. Harriet's friend Sport has a kind of messed up life for 1964. He lives alone with his writer dad after his mother left and took all their money. He has to make dinner for his dad at 7pm (so late because his dad has cocktails first) and usually sees his dad going to bed as Sport is waking up. Kind of interesting. I also realized that the only Dostoievsky I've ever read is a quote used in Harriet the Spy. I'm well read.
Did you know there is a lime shortage going on? Limes have tripled in price. The cost of margaritas will probably rise as well.
I really like this new song by Bob Mould called "Hey Mr. Grey". His new album comes out sometime in June. We have also been listening to the Frozen soundtrack quite a bit. Henry really loves Do You Want to Build a Snowman. He knows more of the lyrics than I do.
Grand Budapest Hotel is great. Go see it.