Blog

  • Sick from School

    I got a phone call from the kid’s school today. It was the school nurse, telling me that my daughter had just thrown up. She wasn’t running a fever, but thought it best that I come and get her. I agreed, and headed over to the school. Yet another advantage of living two blocks from the school; I could get there pretty quickly. When I arrived at the school, the kid looked a little pale, and she was behaving a little meekly. I thanked the nurse for taking care of her, and we walked home holding hands. I told her she’d need to get into bed when we got home, and take it easy. She asked me if she could watch the iPad in bed, which I agreed to.

    This is yet another thing that was normal just a few years ago, and now feels very foreign. Back in 2019, the wife and I would get a call from the kid’s day school that she was running a fever, or not feeling well, and we’d go get her, and sit on the couch at home with her. It has been over two years since we had to go get our kid from school when she’s sick. Just a funny bit of life that is normal, but doesn’t exactly feel normal now.

    This all made me think about being sick when I was in school. The elementary I went to had a really scary nurses office. I was a windowless room in the back of the main office. I remember that it had a green vinyl chaise couch in it, that I can only imagine saw millions of sick kids lay down on it over the decades. It was the type of nurses office that made you feel worse if you got sent to it. I say that because on the occasions that I had to go to that office, and my parents were called to pick me up, I would have to lay there for close to a half hour before my parents were able to get me, due to the distances they had to travel from their work. I also remember feeling a little guilty when they came on got me, like I had better be really sick.

    Now I am the caregiver. Getting crackers and Gatorade, and letting her watch whatever she wants to watch. And I also have to remind myself, she might be contagious.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Summer, Dragon Warrior, and Louie Gohmert is a Coward

    (Get in loser…)

    The kid still has about a month left to school, but Summer is here. I have broken out the air conditioners due to a couple of eighty-degree days, and one awful ninety-degree day. The shorts are out as well, and so is the talk of going swimming. Nothing says Summer more than a kid wanting to get in the water and swim. For me, I’m not a huge fan of Summer heat – I did grow up in Texas so I have suffered under enough hot weather to last three or four lifetimes – but I like the feeling of freedom that summer creates in one’s mind. Summer means plans, and vacations, and projects, and also being a little lazy and watching tv all day. Also, Summer means that I will get to spend a great amount of time with the kid. I would like to take her to museums, and maybe a road trip out to the Pollock/Krasner house in Springs, Long Island. There are only eleven weeks to cram a lot of fun in.

    I have got it in my head that I want to play Dragon Warrior. If you don’t know, it was one of the first RPG for the NES back in 1986. (Yes, I am aware that the original name was Dragon Quest but was changed for the North American market, but we’re talking about a 45-year old’s nostalgia here, so I would like to keep calling it Dragon Warrior.) I have looked up the game, and I can buy a version to play on my iPad or iPhone, but both versions look updated, and clean. What I am looking for is the 8-bit original to play. It would be great if I could get that on my devices, but I feel what I’d have to do to make this happen is buy an old NES and blow on the cartridge hoping that it will load, and then hope beyond hope that it still can save my game. (Hey other 40-year-old! You know what I’m talking about.)

    And let’s not forget that @LouieGohmertTX1 is a coward that wants to make it easier for mass murders to get their hands-on semiautomatic guns as fast as possible. Thanks @LouieGohmertTX1 maybe you can club some puppies and baby seals before you walk out the door?

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)

  • Short Story Review: “The Boy Upstairs” by Joshua Ferris

    (The short story “The Boy Upstairs” by Joshua Ferris appeared in the June 6th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Just a slight hint of SPOILERS this time around.)

    I think it was Robert Altman who said that all stories have a philosophical viewpoint, which can be as simple as supporting or challenging the status quo. I was almost a philosophy major, I read the important books by important thinkers, and would say that I was more in the classical mode of thinking, and not so much with the Modern thought. I was always saddened when people viewed philosophy as a waste of time, something that had no relevance in the world. So, anytime I come across a writer who infuses a philosophical question into the plot of a story, it makes me excited that there are people still asking those questions.

    Joshua Ferris did that with the short story “The Boy Upstairs.” It’s a little philosophy and a little Book of Job all rolled into one. The protagonist is only referred to as “she” and what we learn about she is that she is an adjunct philosophy professor who is married but has no children. It is hinted that she is a person who is not all good. A friend, who is researching in Antarctica, first texts her that they need to speak. Her first thought is that her secrets are about to be revealed. When her friend does call, it is to tell her that he thinks their mutual friend’s son has committed suicide at twelve years old. Her first reaction is relief that the call was not about her secrets, but then she begins to feel guilty for feeling that way. Then she has a thought that she would be willing to be humiliated if that meant her friend could have her son back. Thus, starts a chain of events that leads to a climax that consists of a question.

    As stated before, I’m a sucker for any story that touches on a question that is even slightly in the realm of philosophy, and I would chalk this story up to that. A question is asked, events happen, and then ending is left for the reader to interpret based on how they answered the first question and viewed the events. I find this stuff fun, and I do like the way Ferris structured the story. Yet, I still couldn’t shake this feeling of being dissatisfied. I have been thinking about it for two days, and I’m still not sure what it is that is causing this feeling in me. I guess I could say the structure of the story was a bit academic and predictable, but at the same time, to ask these questions, the story gets locked into this structure. I could also say it’s the open-ended climax, but as I stated earlier, I feel the ending needed to allow each reader to bring their perspective to the story. Or, it could be that the story was written to ask a question that was to leave me feeling dissatisfied no matter what answer I came up with. All of that can be true and wrong at the same time.

    See, I’m a sucker for philosophy.  

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)

  • Oh, That’s How I Got Here

    A good thing happened this morning, which was that the 2022/2023 school year calendar was released. It is an event that I need to happen so we could plan our summer and fall.

    And that was also the moment that I confirmed to myself that I am a different person from the one who moved to NYC in 2006. It’s been sixteen years; I would hope that I would change some. I would hate to think that almost two decades would go by and I would be a stagnate individual.

    But as I got out of the subway at 96th to walk over to the Trader Joe’s, I did spend a second thinking about that guy who got off a plan in Newark, and what he hoped to accomplish, and why he didn’t accomplish it.

    When I moved, I had been out of college for five years, and had a very modest bit of succus in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area theatre scene through acting and directing. I was moving to New York to continue that pursuit, which I did. I acted in a few very little things, and directed a play here and there. And as all of that was happening, I feel in with a crowd of puppeteers, and really started getting inspired by that work. I had some pretty respectable successes in that line of work, earned some real money as a performer, did some really great work on some amazing productions, and made some really great friends. And while that was going on, I feel in love and got married, and started a family. I started working and running rehearsal studios, and then wanted to try my hand at arts admin. I can admit now that arts admin wasn’t right for me. Maybe it was the companies I worked for, maybe it was me, but the bottom line is that it wasn’t the right fit. And now, I take care of my daughter and support my wife’s career. I doodle pictures, and work at writing. It’s not where I thought I would be, but I’m also not unhappy either.

    Things change. Attitudes change. Ambitions and desires change. The only constant in life is change.

    I always thought I was one of those people whose life was a straight as an arrow path, such as I knew what I wanted to do. But looking back at the last twenty years, it’s been anything but.

    I am a guy who looks forward to school year calendars.

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)

  • It’s Time to Cut Stuff Out

    So, ah, I have been going to the gyp for four months now. Not a whole lot has changed. I have dropped 8 pounds, and my legs look toned and muscular. Outside of that, nothing has changed.

    In fact, I went out shopping this weekend to buy some new shorts, and I had to move up to the 32″ waist. Yup, in four months, my stomach got bigger.

    So, something is outta wack.

    My belly, is a beer belly. Or, if you are trying to be cute, one might call it a Dad Bod, but that sounds gross and icky and trying too hard to be trendy. I have a beer and ice cream belly. To be specific, it is a bourbon and ginger ale, and late night ice cream beer belly. I have to admit that I have two habits that are working against me.

    It’s June, which is a month that I normally take off from drinking, so that will be an easy adjustment. But, I need to start to look at my relationship with drinking. Ask the hard questions as to why I do it, what am I getting out of it, and is it masking something that I don’t want to deal with. Those are tough, and serious questions.

    The ice cream, on the other hand is an easy one. I am a late night snacker. I like to raid the fridge before I go to bed, and being that we are about to start summer, I have been buying a lot of ice cream. Most of it is ending up in my stomach, which then attaches to my stomach. I mean, I do have some other bad eating habits if I am being honest, but the ice cream really is the crown jewel of my gluttony. Sure, the roots of my drinking might be deep and dark, and deserve real introspection, but the reason for ice cream is easy; it tastes good and makes me feel really good. Sure, my family sees me drinking, but the ice cream is a secret that only happens when I am alone late at night watching old movies or MST3k.

    The point here people, if I want to see more results, and actually get to feeling better, which is still alluding me, then I need to make some additional changes to my health, and admit that I need to cut some things out.

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)