Month: August 2024

  • ODDS and ENDS: She Called Me Old, Clothes Matter, and a Draw

    (Way down around Vicksburg…)

    I live in Harlem, and I love my neighborhood. I especially love my block. I have been here nearly twenty years, and we are all friendly and pleasant to each other. So, this morning, as I was crossing a busy intersection near my apartment, a person drove their car right through the crosswalk while me and a bunch of other people were crossing. Like I said, we are a friendly pleasant group of people around here, that is until someone does something stupid, like try to run us over. So, as this idiot was driving away, we all yelled at him, maybe gave some hand gestures, I don’t know, there were a lot of people. One of the people, an elderly woman who was moving slow, but was quick to disgust with that driver, turned to me and said, “Can you believe that person. Driving like that. No respect for us old people, like you and me.” And I said, “I know, what an asshole, and did you say I was old, because I’m just in my mid-forties.”

    I am going to say this about Kamala Harris, and her address to the DNC last night; She had the right clothes on. This is not some sexist statement about clothing and women, and being an object. No, this has everything to do with dressing for the job. She wants to be President, and she looked like The President. Out of everything that happened last night, and I do think she gave a great speech which set the correct tone for the final push of her campaign, I am aware that clothing is the last thought on anyone’s mind. But as she finished her address, she looked like the boss out there. She exuded that she could lead, and was ready. Whomever picked out that suit; good call.

    Tottenham drew its first match on Monday. So, they’re still undefeated going into week two.

  • That’s One Sick Kid, Part 2

    The kid never got to feeling better yesterday, and this morning, her fever got worse.

    Went to our pediatrician, and she tested positive for strep.

    I am now taking care of a very sick child, and also praying to the Great Immune System God in the Sky, that me and the wife stay healthy.

    In the meantime, me and my daughter have been listening to the “Mama Mia!” soundtrack, as that seems to keep her spirits up, and makes her smile.

    So, here’s “Rock the Casbah” by The Clash…

  • That’s One Sick Kid

    If you are not aware, besides being a theatre artist and a writer and a sketchbook enthusiasts, I am also a stay at home parent. I like to see how many hats I can put on over the course of a day, as every day is a balancing act. I make time for my family and try to take time for myself.

    But all of it will come to a crashing halt when the kid gets sick, which happened this morning. She woke up groggy and not hungry, which were yellow flags that something was up. And then there was a cough, followed by her repeating to us that she felt warm. Ahh… the final red flag.

    I took her temperature and immediately thought of how when everyone is a kid, they think they can force their body to have a fever to get out of school. Too my sad surprise, the kid actually had a fever. Holy Crap! It’s just the second week of school; is that even possible?

    The answer is yes. And as the day has gone on, the fever has slowly crept up. Nothing scary, but it went from 99 to now resting at 100. Tylenol and Gatorade be damned! Nothing will kill this bug!

    What was I planning on doing today?

    Doesn’t matter. This is a day of toast making and YouTube watching. Reading stories, and playing games.

    The writing I wanted to do today? Ha! Dream on, sir! There is a little girl that needs her dad.

    And deep down, I know I’d rather take care of the kid than do anything else.

    Even though I might pitch a story idea to a comedy blog, and write a couple of short story reviews.

    Who am I kidding? I’m going to let the kid paint my nails.

  • The Windows are Open

    (Yes, I am an old man, and yes, I will be talking about the weather.)

    Oh, thank God! The weather finally broke here in New York. It’s not in the 80’s nor is the humidity/dew point thing in the 70+ range. No, it’s 68 degrees and the A/C’s are off and the windows are open.

    It feels like hope, if you ask me.

    Summer in the City, with window units, is difficult. Sure, it’s cool in the apartment, but the cool air feels unnatural, and never really cools you down. It’s artificial to an extreme. One that I long for to go away around the start of August. I mean, I want the heat and swampy air to go as well, don’t get me wrong.

    For the next three days, we will get a preview of mid-September, here in late-August. It’s just a taste of Autumn, enough to create a longing for the seasons to change.  

    This isn’t an advocation for pumpkins, or pumpkin spice, sweaters, leaves changing, or cold weather. No, what I am asking for is 72 degrees in the day, and 60 degrees at night. I’m looking to be comfortable. May and September used to be those months up here. It was nice, and pleasant, and I will keep going back to the word nice. Nice, nice, nice.

    I know as I get older. I will want to be comfortable more often, and any form of unpleasantness – be it weather, a meal, a conversation, loud music, pants not fitting… – will actively be avoided to the point of being a crank about it. I also know that isn’t always a good thing.

    Not sure if I am ready to give up getting out of my comfort zone to try new things, and explore the world. I have been told that there is nothing I can do about it, that’s just how it is to get older. And I can’t avoid getting older. And the older I get the more I want to be comfortable.

    See… Well… I kind’a talked myself into a corner here.

    I was talking about opening up the windows and I started to draw some comparison of being comfortable was the death of my ability to try new things, right?

    They also say you start to lose focus the older you get.

    I need Scottie Pippen and his Gensana.

  • The Kid’s Soccer Tryout

    I mentioned last week that the kid was invited to try out for her school’s traveling soccer team. In case you missed it, my daughter was very excited about this invitation, and wanted to start running soccer drills as to be prepared. I was equally excited to help out, and we ran soccer drills four days in a row, about an hour a day, to get her ready for the Saturday tryout.

    The kid was all psyched up, and ready to go. I was her kit man on this Saturday, as I had her cleats, towel, change of clothes, and water. The soccer field was attached to a school on the East side of Harlem, and on the walk over, the kid was telling me all the strategies she would deploy to make a good impression on the coaches. No matter what happened, she told me, she was going to do her best.

    When we made it to the school, there were about 28 to 30 girls that were there for the tryout. The coaches called out the names, the girls went in the gate to the field, and we the parents were left on the outside of the fence to watch.

    The coaches broke the girls up into teams of four, and had them play short ten-minute games. What I found odd was that, none of the coaches were paying very close attention to the girls. And when I say “paying attention” I mean they didn’t seem to be evaluating anyone’s skills. None of the coaches had clipboards, or anything to take notes. They just, kind’a, watched the kids, encouraged them to play and have fun, and every ten minutes, told the kids to take a water break. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting out of the coaches, but being that I am not a soccer coach, I reminded myself I should trust the people who are the coaches; I’m sure they know what they’re doing.

    Anyway, from my observation, the kids all just ran after the ball, sort’a clumped around it, and kicked wildly. There wasn’t a whole lot of “team” playing, so much as it was just kicking the ball at the goal, no matter who or what was in the way. Passing was rather non-existent.

    That’s not to say that there were two very talented girls out there. Like, heads and shoulders above the skill of the other kids. These two girls could dribble, and spin, and fake out, and kick – like really smash the ball. Like, we all knew they were making the team.

    As for the other girls, including my kid, they all had a blast out there. Just running, and kicking, and laughing, and screaming. They were having fun, and as the tryout wore on, maybe that was what the coaches were looking for – who is excited to be out there and playing.

    But I did keep some stats on my kid. She took five shots on goal, scored one goal, and -are you ready for this – passed the ball to an open player and got an assist. I was impressed. As far as I could tell, it was the only assist of the afternoon.