Tag: Family

  • Sports and Autumn

    Chelsea fired their manager, Thomas Tuchel, this morning. A little surprised, but Chelsea is having a pretty rough start to their season. Their loss yesterday, in the group stage of the Champions league, didn’t help, but still, it’s just the group stage. I would have thought if they didn’t make it out of the group, that that’s when I would have fired Tuchel. This is the one aspect of the Premier League that I don’t understand: you can be a manager with a winning record and still get fired. In the US, you have to lose first, then get fired.

    Enough of Chelsea!

    Today starts Tottenham’s Champions League campaign! Spurs will be taking on Marseille, and… I know nothing about Marseille, other than that it’s a city in France. The match is on at 3pm today on Paramount+, and there is a slight chance that I will be able to watch it. (If it rains today, I will be watching. If the skies are clear, I will be at the playground with the kid.) I’ll see how it goes.

    As for sports, the fantasy football league that I play in is about the start up. I haven’t paid any attention to what is going on in the NFL. And I really haven’t paid any attention to what the Dallas Cowboys are up to. The only thing I head this summer is that the Eagles should take the division, and that the JETS and GIANTS are BACK! Mind you, the local NYC sports news always says this about the JETS and GIANTS every year. Don’t worry, the press gives up on the JETS after the third game, and then they dump the GIANTS about half way through the season.

    The older I get, the more I enjoy the rhythm of sports leagues being rolled out in the Fall. The ramping up of both of the footballs, and the winding down of baseball. Basketball will start soon enough, and I again will flirt with following the Knicks. (My New York friends will talk me out of it.) In one sense, it gives me something to do on the weekends when it starts getting too cold and rainy to go out. I never really thought of myself as a sports fan, but since I moved from Texas to NYC, sports has given me a way to stay connected with friends and family. It’s an easy conversation I can have with people, and it’s also an easy excuse to send an old friend a text message, or when I talk to my dad, we can complain about the Cowboy’s O-line.

    I wonder if any of this sports watching will pass on to the kid? Right now, she finds it boring, but every now and then, she curls up with me and watch what I’m watching. Sometimes she asks questions, most of the time she doesn’t. Maybe what she’ll take away from sports is that it’s a chance to hang out together.

    (Speaking of which! If you are enjoying this, please take a moment to like, share of comment on this blog! I hear it helps needy people like me!)

  • It’s Labor Day

    I feel like I have achieved some sort of accomplishment for making it to Labor Day. Then I’m reminded of the Chris Rock joke, that you can’t be proud of something that you’re supposed to do. Like make it to Labor Day, or not go to jail.

    So, in my achievement/not achievement morning that I am having with my wife on the couch as we watch “The Price is Right,” I am thinking about how we got to the end of June, and I thought that this Summer would never get started or end for that matter. Yet here we are. The wife goes back to work tomorrow, and the kid is in school by Thursday.

    For me, I have to start looking for a job. Or at least, I have to start exploring ways to bring money in to help out the family. Won’t lie, I’m not looking forward to it. Part of it is that I have been out of work for so long, I have a little anxiety about returning. Also, I have this nagging feeling that I have started entering the realm of being just a little too old for certain jobs. And then there is what set of skills do I have? What I can do really only applies to theatre and non-profit arts groups.

    I talked about this with the wife last night, and we are in agreement that though another income stream would help the family, there is no rush for me to go out and take the first job that comes my way. I can take my time and find the right fit. That does help me relax a little.

    But, alas, for today is the end of Summer in our house. We most likely will do nothing but watch TV, and let the kid do what ever she wants. We will give ourselves one final day to relax.

  • Life with My Dog

    We have a little dog that is one tough coward. This dog is great with people and kids, and I have often made the joke that if I got mugged while walking her, the dog would roll over for the mugger. BUT, what makes the dog maddening is that she want to fight and kill any dog we encounter on the street. So, she tried to be a tough little dog.

    And then the rain comes, and she turns into the biggest little chicken. I know many dog are scared of thunder and fireworks, and our furry one is the same. Right now, thunderstorms are rolling through, and she is curled up with me, shivering, waiting for the weather to pass.

    I am taking full advantage of my scared dog. Normally, she is following my wife around the apartment because I guess the dog thinks she’s the alpha around here; Not that the dog is wrong. This means I don’t get a whole lot of snuggle time with the dog.

    Not that I am demanding that the dog spends her time with me. I am a cat person, so I feel like an animal and me should be more like roommates than family members. You know, I respect your space, your respect mine. But now and then, I would like the dog to curl up on my lap while I read. Not a big ask, but I feel it is manageable.

    The one thing I will say (as a person, a person in a relationship, and a person in a family) I don’t think I like the idea of living without an animal. There is something reassuring having a pet in the home, and taking her on vacations, and just another life at the end of the bed.

  • Short Story Review: “Trash” by Souvankham Thammavongsas

    (The short story “Trash” by Souvankham Thammavongsa appeared in the June 13th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Things might get SPOILED)

    Self-perception, self-worth, first impressions, the desire for acceptance; these were all the themes that swirled around and in the very compact and effective short story “Trash” by Souvankham Thammavongsa. The story is about a young female cashier at a local grocery store who falls in love and marries a man in five days after meeting him at the store, and then the man’s mother comes to visit. Mother-in-laws can be tough, and let’s be honest, the mean mother-in-law is a cliché. Hell, even the illustration for the story leads you to that conclusion as well, and as I read the story, I didn’t have high hopes for what I was going to unfold.

    Yet, what followed was a very well-crafted comparison for two self-made women, their attitudes toward the world they occupied, and how they desired the same thing, but attacked it in two very different ways.

    The young woman, the cashier, is from a world of rude honesty. “If they didn’t like you, you’d know about it and they would say it to your face,” the cashier informs us early in the story, “There is no pretending.” The cashier’s parents died when she was in her last year of high school, and she had to drop out to support herself, as there was no one to help her. She took the job at the grocery store, and she came to enjoy the job, and apricate the employment as it gave her an opportunity to provide for herself – an apartment and furnishing that were all hers.

    The mother-in-law, Miss Emily, had gone to college, graduated law school, became a partner, owned her own practice, bought property, worked hard to make something out of herself, as the young woman tells us. Miss Emily’s husband had died several years ago, a sudden heat attack, and she had married him right out of college, as we are told, because having a family was what she really wanted.

    When the women meet for the first time, they go to dinner and Miss Emily tells stories of her son, and when they all are on their way back to the son’s apartment, Emily askes about the young woman’s family, where in the story of her parents death is told, as well as how proud she is for having supported herself. Miss Emily’s reaction is to ask if she would quit the supermarket job now that she was married to her son. Miss Emily wants her to quit the job and go back to school, to make something better of herself. The next day, Miss Emily takes her shopping, so she can have clothes that look like a wife of a man who works in an office. But when they return to the son’s apartment, Miss Emily changes and starts to complain to her about the cleanliness of her son’s place, and that she, as his wife, needs to do something about it. The young woman takes a break, and goes outside of the apartment, and wonders about a mother’s love, and how she wants that as well.

    And it was this ending of the story that broke my heart a little. I could feel through the words how much the young woman wanted to belong, to be a part of this family, and believing that her mother-in-law was doing all of this out of love, and that she wanted to be recognized as a productive member. But I also felt that for the young woman to get all of that, on some level, she would be forced to admit that where she came from, and what she had made herself into, just wasn’t good enough. Heartbreaking for me, because clearly the young woman was just as much as a “bootstrap” self-made woman as Miss Emily, but her achievements were viewed as less worthy.

    It’s the type of story where I want to tell the young woman that she is good enough, and she does have value. But, I also have the feeling that her desire to be loved and validated will lead her to reject all that she has earned on her own. It’s a harsh reality, but also very honest.

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

  • Small Country Cemetery

    This weekend, the family and I, including the dog, started up hiking again. This is our third year, and I have mentioned it before, I am really looking forward to it. As New Yorkers, getting to the location of our hikes is half the battle. On average, we have to dive about 45 minutes out of the City, before we can hit some more rugged nature trails, and if we want to try our hand at more moderately difficult paths that are less trafficked, then we have to go an hour to an hour and a half away.

    Such was the case this weekend. We had decided to hit up Mountain Lakes Park in Westchester County, right on the New York/Connecticut border. This was our first time out there, and Google Maps ended up failing us. The app said we had arrived, but we were in the middle of a country road, surrounded by horse farms and BMW’s. So, I pulled the car over to the first public parking space I could find, which ended up being a cemetery off of June Road and 116.

    After I had figured out that we were like five minutes away from our destination, the wife suggested that we stroll through the cemetery; see what we can see. As far as I could tell, people were buried there from the 1780 to the present day. Quite a few Revolutionary War Veterans were there, from the 4th New York Militia. My seven-year-old daughter, who is very curious and inquisitive, had lots of questions for us. Why were so many people with the same name buried together? Do you have to be buried together if you are married? And sadly, she observed that many of the graves were for children, and wanted to know why so many kids died long ago? All good and honest questions that I would expect her to ask.

    Because families used to always live near each other, and married people normally want to be with each other forever, and sadly, medicine wasn’t that advanced long ago, and kids who got sick would sometimes die.

    But the kid kept asking us if we, me and the wife, wanted to be buried together. “I guess,” was my answer, not because I’m unsure we should spend eternity together, but because we never talked about it.

    The wife wants to be eco-buried so she can be plant food for a tree. I can live with that.

    I want to be buried someplace quiet and just have a boulder for a headstone. Like Jackson Pollock did. Only my name on it.

    We decided that whomever dies first, that their wishes should be honored, and the other one has to do the same.

    Seems fair. Either a tree or a boulder.

    Very Taoist in a sense.