Tag: Daughters

  • ODDS and ENDS: MAGA Hat on the Subway, Baseball Season, Rich Kid Bully, and Easter for the Non-Christian

    (And they tore down the Polo Grounds…)

    I was coming home the other day on an uptown B. The car was maybe half full of people who, including myself, were all a little worn out and just wanted to be left alone. And then a group of people got on, clearly tourists, who looked like a family on vacation – mom, dad, teenage daughter, and a teenaged or young adult son. And this son had on a MAGA hat. I think I was the outlier, because I was the only person on the train that did a double take when I saw that hat. The rest of the people on the train didn’t react at all. Then I reminded myself that people are allowed the have their views, and I shouldn’t judge. And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this guy might only have that hate on “ironically.” I can’t prove that, just a gut feeling. Either way, they weren’t on that train long; got off at the next stop. And as soon as the family was off the train, and the doors shut, the harsh looks and mumbling started – “What was up with that guy?” “He’s got some big balls to wear that here.” “Maybe he’s here for the trial?”

    Hey! Baseball season started! And the Cubs lost yesterday! Yee-Haw!

    Taking the kid to school, she pointed out to me a boy in her class that goes around and accuses other kids of being poor, and making fun of them. “He made fun of me,” she said, “He said we live in a dumpster.” I then I told her she should say, “Duh! It’s right next door to your parent’s dumpster. Everybody knows that!” That was probably the wrong thing to tell her.

    Easter is this weekend. We celebrate the holiday in the most non-Christian way possible by just eating candy, and deviled eggs and homemade mac n’ cheese. This year we are adding a ground lamb meatloaf. The wife and I were raided Catholic, and we have no intention of raising our daughter Catholic. Now, if she decides that she wants to be Catholic, then I will fully support her in that, but I won’t drop that religion on her. So, when it comes to Easter, we have avoided talking about all the Jesus stuff that’s involved with the holiday, but I know that will change soon. The kid is making more friends who wear their Christianity as a badge. She’s come home with questions, and I have answered them the best I could while trying to stay as neutral as possible. I don’t want my religion hang ups to become her hang ups.  

  • SNOW DAY!

    For real! No Fooling! An honest to God snow day has befallen the City!

    Sadly, most kids have to “remote in” to school today, so they aren’t off.

    But not my kid!

    Nope, her school closed, and she gets the joy of having a bonus day! She got to sleep in, and when she did wake up, she got a super sugary cereal for breakfast. There was an art project of making her own trading cards. Then we went out in the snow and walked the dog. That took it out of us, so we had hot chocolate and she curled up in her bed to read the first book in A Series of Unfortunate Events. Then she finished her homework, and is watching TV next to me on the couch as I work.

    Looking out the window, huge fat and chunky wet snowflakes are blowing sideways. For me, a kid who grew up in Texas, snow has never stopped being amazing and magical. I also remember that on those completely rare occasions when it would snow in North Texas, as we’re talking a total of 2 inches was like a blizzard there, there was this running clock in my head that I had to get out there and play in it before it went away, because it would go away. My parents grew up in Illinois, so snow was nothing new to them, and I know there were highly amused at my excitement for that least amount of snow.

    My kid has a much more chill attitude toward snow, clearly due to being born in a blizzard and having grown up in NYC. Though we haven’t had a major snow event in almost two years, we do get one good storm a season. The kid owns her own sled after all.

    But the day feels lazy and relaxing. The running clock in my head doesn’t tick anymore, and we’ll hit up the local sledding hill after lunch.

  • This is What Dad Does

    I got to do something last night with my daughter that I have been looking forward to for years. We went to a presentation of four works-in-progress puppet shows. The venue was Dixon Place down in the Lower East Side, and the showing was part of their Puppet Blok series. And, it was a school night, so this was a very special occasion. My daughter got to experience the world of puppets that I had been in, and meet some of the people I have been working with for over 15 years.

    The kid has known since forever that puppetry was the “thing” that I did in New York, but for most of the time when she thought of Dad and puppets, she was thinking “Muppets.” Slowly, as she’s grown, and I have shown her videos, and pictures of the type of work I was involved in. Some of it was traditional puppets, and some of it was mime, and other shows were more about movement and physical theatre. I never did marionettes because that is a hard skill to hone, and those guys are crazy.

    Last night, the kid got to have her first experience in seeing what it was that her father did. And I was especially happy that we chose last night because two good friends were showing their work, and both of them are very talented women who I have worked for. I wanted my daughter to see women being themselves, out front, creating art, and leading their projects.

    I was also a little nervous that the kid would get bored with the show. I learned a while ago that just because something is important to me, doesn’t mean it will be important to her. I’m not looking for her to want to become an artist or a performer. I just would like for her to have an appreciation of the arts, and the creative process. And works at this stage can be rough, very much “in progress,” and still a ways from a final form.

    But I needn’t have been concerned. She got it. She was into it. She was a great audience member as well. All four of the pieces engaged her, and lead her not to ask a bunch of questions, but to tell me how each piece made her feel. At the talk back after the show, she was a little shy to give her comments, but she whispered them to me, and I spoke up for her. Yeah, she got it.

    And it was a late night. We were riding the D train home, and she snuggled up next to be with her show program in her hand. I’m pretty sure she had a good time. I got what I wanted, which was to share a part of me with the kid.

  • Short Story Review: “Self-Portrait in Assignments” by Max Kruger-Dull

    (The short story “Self-Portrait in Assignments” by Max Kruger-Dull appeared on November 30th, 2023 in Milk Candy Review.)

    I am a strong proponent for flash fiction to not behave like a short story. That’s not to say that a writer cannot craft a well written short story in under a thousand words which exhibits all the qualities of a traditional short story; opening, rising action, climax, conclusion, character development…etc. I hold to that flash fiction should reject the use of plot, climax, and even resolution. Flash should be its own beast that is about the expression of an idea or an emotion, wherein the narrative ends with the conclusion of the idea or emotion, but does not necessitate a resolution of the idea or emotion.

    (Academic enough for you?)

    “Self-Portrait in Assignments” by Max Kruger-Dull came across my desk last week, and I have been kicking it around in my head ever since. It’s the type of flash story that was a bit of a gut punch and made me question my approach toward this style of fiction. The piece is made up of ten short vignettes, just about all dealing with words that, in one way or another, have been assigned to the narrator. Each short piece is titled with the abbreviated name of the person who did the assigning.

    So, that’s the form of the piece.

    The way these ten vignettes play with each other creates a picture of the narrator, though not in a linear timeline, more of a sequence that exemplifies the narrators emotional standing, and ultimately, emotional growth. Though the narrator comes across as a smart person, there is also a hint of a lack of self-confidence, though a determination to keep trying also exists in the character. That determination is exemplified in the love and care that the narrator has for his daughter. Kruger-Dull smartly gives three examples of interactions with the daughter; one being before the daughter was born thus showing how her influence was already present in the narrators life. By using the rule of three, the importance of this relationship is made paramount, thus signaling the emotional conclusion of this “self-portrait.”

    All the notes are played right in this piece, which left me feeling satisfied with the journey that this piece took me on. I want to say that the narrator started in one place and finished in another, but did they? Did the narrator only acknowledge their shortcomings, and choose not to pass them on to their daughter? I first thought there wasn’t a conflict in the piece, but was there? Was the narrator fighting to accept himself in the eyes of his daughter? To be better for her, even if that means he has to fake who he is?

    See; I can’t put my finger on what it is. But what I do know is that “Self-Portrait in Assignments” is using flash fiction in a specific way to express an emotional idea that couldn’t exist an any other format.

  • Short Story Review: “Our Time is Up” by Clare Sestanovich

    (The short story “Our Time is Up” by Clare Sestanovich appeared in the November 13th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by James Lee Chiahan

    You know, and I’m not stepping out on a ledge here, but there should be more stories about mothers and daughters. For centuries, the literary cannon is filled with stories of fathers and sons – even a couple of religions revolve around that idea. So, when I see a story that is about mothers and daughters, like Clare Sestanovich’s “Our Time is Up,” I look forward to delving into these relationships, which sometimes can be very dramatic and enlightening.

    This story revolves around Angela, who is entering the first stages of middle age, and beginning to wonder about the decision in her life. Her yardstick of measurement is her mother, which leads to uncomfortable comparisons. Angela is relatively happily married, though her and her husband, Will, are in couple’s therapy. There are a host of issues they are addressing, such as if to have children, and Angela’s aging parents. There is a slight hint of depression in Angela, an unwillingness to move forward on some of her issues. The story takes Angela and Will to Angela’s parent’s home, which needs to be cleared out as it is becoming a hoarder’s house. They also explore, by taking a tour, of putting Angela’s parents in assisted living. Some more tangents are sprinkled in the piece, so you can see that there is a lot going on here.

    Which leads me to my chief criticism of this story; there is too much going on which doesn’t allow these details to be fleshed out. I can see that Sestanovich was trying to make the point that Angela’s life is complicated and busy, and she has trouble giving each person and issue, let alone herself, the time that they need. The way this is presented leaves some characters flat, while other situations feel rushed. Will, the husband, plays only one note in the story, with no depth or insight. The father is barely present, having only one job which is to fall thereby starting the conversation about assisted living, and then he serves no other purpose. There is the cleaning of the hording house, which seemed like it was primed for dramatic action, but is just breezed over.

    I say all of this because “Our Time is Up” doesn’t feel like a short story, but the first chapter of a novel. There are so many wonderful places that these characters could go to be fleshed out, giving them depth and authenticity. Especially Angela, who in this story, is more like a middle-aged person who just wonders why things happen to them, and never makes a decision or choice. Even the climax of the piece, a coffee mug made by her mother which breaks in Angela’s luggage, is a situation of something happen to Angela, and not Angela taking an action or making a decision.

    And I was rooting for this story. As I got closer to the end, I kept expecting a dramatic or revelatory action to take place. (I will credit Sestanovich with avoiding the cliché of someone dying, which I think is what most writers would have done.) But it doesn’t arrive. I was also expecting Angela to grow in some way, but she seems to end in the same place where she started, which left me feeling unsatisfied with the story. It’s too bad, as the writing is very good, and the quiet insights of Angela’s life are intriguing. And if there was a second chapter, then I would very much want to read that novel.