Category: Life

  • Inevitable Being

    Walking the kid to school this morning, she told me that she didn’t want to get married when she grew up. What she wanted was two dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and that she would be a doctor. I told that sounded like a good idea; there are a lot of people out there who don’t get married, and are very happy.

    She asked me if I always wanted to get married.

    I said no, but when I met her mother, I changed my mind. That’s what happens when you meet important people, they make you think differently about things.

    Then the kid asked me if I had a girlfriend before mom.

    I did.

    Does mom know you had a girlfriend before her?

    She does.

    Did you kiss this girlfriend?

    I did.

    DOES MOM KNOW THAT!

    She does.

    Then the kid thought about this for a while, and then concluded, I’m glad you married mom because it’s weird to think I would have had a different mom.

    And I remember thinking the same thing when I was a kid talking to my parents about how they started dating. That if things didn’t work out between my parents, I would still have been born, but just to a different mother, or by chance a different father. But whatever the pairing, I would have come into existence.

    I kind’a assumed that this childish thought that I had about my birth was due to my catholic upbringing. Having been taught that my soul was eternal, and that I would always exist, it was just a matter of God grabbing me and throwing me down to Earth to be born. That God had a plan for me, and that my birth and parents were just a necessary step in the process of my existence.

    But for my daughter, we aren’t raising her with religion. (That is a blog for a different day.) We don’t shy away from conversations about God and religion, but she hasn’t been giving the stories of how God made her soul, and sent her down to mom’s womb. She’s been told the truth, that she is a creation of a little bit of mom, and a little bit of dad, and when it’s put together, it creates an original her, unlike anyone else in the world. Yet, she still believes that her existence is inevitable. That there was nothing that would stop her coming into being.

    This isn’t a surprising revelation, now that I think about it. Can anyone really think of a world where they weren’t in it?

    Just a sweet philosophical morning with the kid.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Rats, FA Cup, and Spring

    New York City has always had a rat problem. When the Dutch founded their colony almost 400 years ago, they brought many things we are still dealing with to this day, but none are more ingrained in the fabric of the City than the rats. Face it, when the nuclear holocaust comes, it will be the rats and the cockroaches fighting for supremacy. And I have my money on the rats. The problem has become so bad that Mayor Adams appointed a Rat Czar to deal with it. Many proposals have been made like placing rat-proof trash and compost cans around the City, to banning the restaurant sidewalk sheds. These ideas might work, but walking around town I see a more practical answer right there in the open: Cats. My local bodega has a cat, and that place has been rodent free since it opened. I’m not kidding about this. My grandfather grew up on a farm and they kept cats in the barn to keep rats and mice away, and according to him it worked well with very little effort on his part; The cat kind’a knew what to do. So, just think about it- cats.

    Who needs an FA Cup? Not Tottenham Hotspur, that’s for sure.

    I know we are only on the third day of March, but I’m ready for Spring. I’m ready to open up the windows, and start hiking again on the weekends. Maybe even a little disc golf as well. I’m ready for green and color to return. I’m ready to transition to the next thing.

  • Distracted Today

    I set a schedule for myself and I try to stick to it. Wednesday is the one day of the week that is all my own. I don’t have any chores to take care of, no obligations to the family other than dropping off and picking the kid up from school. Wednesday is the day that I read short stories, write a review of one, and then work on my other writing.

    But not today.

    Everything has felt a little off.

    It started like normal. Got the family up, kid off to school, and went to the gym. Got home, settled in on the couch with a coffee, and started making the rounds of reading short fiction online, and in magazines. And I read for two hours, about 8 different stories, but my mind kept pulling me out of what I was doing. I was having trouble focusing, you know, just an overall difficulty at completing the simple task of reading, and thinking about what I had just read.

    It was a malaise that was coming over and around me. I was doing something for myself, that I enjoy doing, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should be doing something else. Something practical. Reading this morning started to feel like I was hiding out, avoiding, procrastinating away from what I should really be doing with my time.

    My mind wanted me to think about money and finances.

    We have a plan, which we have stuck to, but we hit a rough patch yesterday. Surprise medical bills, which delays our ability to pay down the debt. There is a chance that things could improve, but for the improvement to happen, I need to get a job.

    And that’s what is gnawing at me today; should I really be sitting around on the couch reading? Should I write a blog, when I should be updating my resume, searching Indeed?

    Clearly, I opted for the blog. I mean, I’m going to look for a job after lunch, and then get back to reading.

  • It Snowed

    It snowed last night. That was cool. We haven’t received any snow this year in NYC, and it feels really weird. I am aware that this might become the new normal for the region. Warmer than average temperatures, then a bomb blizzard, then back to above normal temps. When do we get to the point that this is now normal? I think you get there when all of the people who remember what it was like before have died off.

    Yikes! There’s your dark take on a Tuesday.

    The nice thing about our three inches of snow was that it made walking the kid to school an exercise of fun and excitement. She got to put on her snow shoes, which, obviously, she hasn’t had a chance to wear. And the best part was her walking in all the spots of fresh snow no one had touched yet. She was giddy, and I am sure it has made sitting in class today very difficult.

    For me, I feel like I have been granted the first season of the year. It really isn’t Winter around here until there is snow. You know. You need flowers in the Spring, heat in the Summer, and leaves changing in the Fall. It’s part of the deal. And the older I get, the more I need it to happen. The cliché is for old people to move South or West, get out of the cold and live in the heat. But I find myself running in the opposite direction. I want to see the passage of time, the cycle continue and renew.

    Let’s face it, as some people get older, they want to be as comfortable as possible, which makes complete sense. You have worked hard, now you want to relax and enjoy the final years, and be as predictably comfortable as possible. Not knocking it, and I may want that someday.

    But what I want now is to see the changes come. To count my Winters and Summers, and experience the seasons. Has being comfortable ever spurned growth? Maybe I’m not ready to stop the wheel of time in life. Maybe I need to see the passage of time to know that I have a place in it. (I’m putting a lot on these three inches of snow, I know that.) Maybe seasons remind me that there is something bigger than me out there.

    (Psst! If you enjoyed, pleas take a moment and give this post a “like.” I, ahh…, I need the algorithm to kick me up a notch. Thanks.)

  • ODDS and ENDS: Dog Person, NYC, and The Sofa

    (Growing Equals Learning, and Vice Versa…)

    It dawned on me last night, as I was walking the dog around the neighborhood at 9pm, that I can’t go back to having a cat. I like cats, I have a soft spot for cats, and I love seeing bodega cats; they are my favorites. But I’m a dog person now. And it comes down to litter boxes. I prefer to have my animal friend relieve themselves on the street, or on occasion, in neighbor’s yard. I am totally fine with having green plastic bags on me to pick up poop. But the idea of having a box in my home that I have to clean excrement and clumping pee out of daily is a task that I never want to return to. This is not a knock against cats – it’s just that I don’t want to do that chore anymore. So, my lot is now thrown in with dogs.

    I still like living in New York. After everything that we have gone through these past three years, I still like this town. Wednesday and Thursday, I had to run errands all over Manhattan – from Harlem to the Battery, and I still find this place fascinating and thrilling, and dirty and gross, dangerous and wonderful. I fear that I might become one of those people who cannot function when away from the City. That I will be locked in a perpetual low-grade orbit of this place, never to break free.

    If my office is the couch, then I need a better couch.