Tag: Friends

  • Short Story Review: “Take Half, Leave Half” by Thomas McGuane

    (The short story “Take Half, Leave Half” by Thomas McGuane appeared in the October 10th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Kurt Markus

    (I might SPOIL IT. Just be aware.)

    I like a western. Maybe it’s because I grew up in Texas, or maybe it’s because a good western is like good sci-fi; it is a vehicle of metaphor. In the right hands, these genres can give sharp insights into human nature. We could go down an English lit route, bust out our I.A. Richards and discuss metaphor and symbolism, but I honestly think that would miss the point of “Take Half, Leave Half” by Thomas McGuane; The story is short, compact, and visceral.

    The story is about two childhood friends from Montana who, after graduating high school, work odd jobs every summer all over the west. This summer they landed in Oklahoma on an old ranch run by an even older man. That’s the plot anyway, but the story goes into these two friends’ lives and what has brought them to where they are in life. And it paints the world they live in with the smells of leather, and of horses, and the dust from the arid, hot summer. You can feel this story when you read it, which is an admirable feat by the writer. I was lulled into the world that these two characters lived in.

    And when the climax occurred, I was honestly disappointed that it had happened. Not that the climax was disappointing, but because I don’t get to be in the world of these two characters anymore, which sounds very cliché to say. What I enjoyed reading was about the friendship between these two very different guys, and also what was and wasn’t said between them. (The short is sparse on dialogue and heavy on narration.) Then, when the final paragraph rolls out, I saw it as identifying that this story contain two worlds; one was the world that these two friends occupied, and the other was everybody else looking in. But we, the reader, got to be on the inside, to see who they really were. That was a well-placed button for the story, that I admire McGuane for doing, because he let us be in on the secret.

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  • Parenting: Dealing with Disappointment

    I had mentioned back on Friday that my daughter didn’t get into the free After-School program at her school. We broke the news to her over the weekend to allow her time to process the development, and talk it out. On the whole, she said that she was okay with it. What she wanted was to spend more time with her friends at the playground and with me.

    That sounded sweet, but I had my suspicions.

    Sadly, I was correct on Monday. Drop off in morning at school was fine. I reminded her that I would be back when school let out, and that we could go to the playground if she wanted. Again, she said that was what she wanted to do. When I came back to pick her up, I could see in her eyes that it was beginning to dawn on her that virtually all of her friends, save two, got into the After-School program. We did go to the playground, and she played with her two good friends, but I knew, I mean I could feel it, that she was having the feelings of being left out and rejected. After about forty-five minutes of half-assed, her heart wasn’t into it, playing, she asked me if we could go home.

    At home, we all talked about what she was feeling, and how it hurts. We also talked about things we could do tomorrow to make after school more fun than today. When it was bedtime, she had bounced back, and was that silly goofy kid.

    When it was pick up time yesterday, she had that same gloomy face, and looking longingly at all her friends that are taking part in the After-School. When went to the playground again, but this time, her two friends weren’t there. Though there were a few kids from her class running around, she refused to play with them, because she only wanted to play with “her” friends.

    It was just breaking my heart to see her hurt in this way. I know that she originally didn’t want to do the After-School, and she really didn’t like it last year. I know it took a long time for me and the wife to convince her that we should apply for the program. I know all of this.

    And I don’t know how to fix this, and I also don’t know if I should. Disappointment is a part of life, and something that everyone has to learn to deal with. But I can’t shake the feeling that my job as her dad is to not let her suffer needlessly. Even if this is a small hiccup on the path of her life, right now to her, this is the biggest set back she’s faced. Asking her to put this in perspective is a futile act because she is too young to have a perspective. (And also, I hated when parents and teachers would tell me that what I was feeling wasn’t that big of a deal. It was a big deal to me, and that’s all that mattered.) In her life, and I know she has been very lucky so far, this is the most complicated emotional issue she has had; She wanted something, didn’t get it, and has to be reminded daily that she’s not included. She’s feeling disappointment, a little embarrassment, shame, loss, sadness, and the dreaded fear of missing out.

    I feel powerless to help her. I know we need to keep talking about her feelings, but my gut instinct is to take action – do something to better the situation. Other after school activities cost money, which we are in short supply of, so I think I’m going to have to be a little creative. Maybe we come up with a library day once a week, or visit museums? Maybe we go and volunteer at local arts organizations? Maybe we do art projects at home? Maybe I put her to work painting the apartment?

    I think the lesson I need to teach her, and reinforce in myself, is that getting disappointed is something that is inevitable and sometimes out of our control. How we deal with that disappointment is what we can control. Taking those feelings of disappointment and channeling them into something positive might be the best way to handle this situation.

    I hate seeing the kid upset, though. That one stings.

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  • 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.

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  • Odd Start to Summer for the Kid

    New York City is just weird compared to the rest of the country, so let’s just start right there. I say this because around here, kids are off from school for July and August. The month of July is when all the camps happen, both sleep-away and day camps. August is the vacation month, or at least that’s when most people take their vacations, because August is honestly the worst month to be in NYC; it’s hot, humid, and there is this tar/urine/wet-garbage smell that is everywhere. Last Summer, in the month of July, the kid was in a day camp for the first two weeks in July, then we spent a couple of days with friends in Vermont. Following that, the kid took the last week in July to visit a friend in Virginia. It was only when we got to August that we started running around the parks and playgrounds again, and the kid made some friends that she ended up seeing most days, so she had someone to play with. We left on vacation right after school ended, and now that we are back in the City, the kid is running into the problem that there aren’t any kids her age to play with at the playground. There are little kids under six years old, but very few kids over that age. And today, it finally clicked in why that is; all the older kids are at camps. And it is really hot out, too. It’s an odd start to Summer in the City for the kid. Added on top of that is the inevitable let down of coming home from after a vacation. Home just seems very dull after a week of staying up late, eating ice cream, and going to amusement parks. She’s a little bored, and I am okay with her learning how to deal with boredom. Yet, I also had hoped that there would be a few kids she could run around with.

  • A Night of Theatre and Being Out

    Last night, I went to see my friends in a puppet show. It was titled SORRY ABOUT THE WEATHER and was performed at HERE, as part of their PUPPETOPIA puppet fest. I loved the show, but my view might be a little biased. Sure, it was a puppet show, I love puppet shows, and it was created and performed by my friends. The subject of the piece is about a woman with dementia, and is an “interpretation of what is in her weather mind.” It’s also about losing a loved one to a disease, which struck a deep chord with me. I found myself reliving the feelings I had during that week in hospice, slowly watching my mother slip away in a haze of painkillers, only to become a husk of a vital person that she was. It made me admit again that there are issues of her passing that I still need to uncover and unpack.

    After the show, I got to see my friends and talk to them briefly. The last time I saw them was back in September 2018 when we did a puppet show together, and I missed being in their presence. It was a nice chance to have a hug, and say it was nice to see you, and to have contact again with people. For such a bittersweet melancholy show, it was a nice that I got to visit with them, and have an honest fulfilling smile as I made my way out of the theatre.

    And this was an evening for me. The wife and the kid were having a mother/daughter night, so dad could go out, and have a break. So, I walked up Hudson Street with this crazy idea that I would go to The White Horse Tavern, as it was a writer’s hang out, and good ol’ Jack Kerouac got kicked out of the joint so often that it was a joke to tell him to go home. But what I thought would be a low-key Wednesday night turned out to be a very happening night in the West Village. All the restaurants were full, as were the bars, and there was no room at the tavern for me.

    But, it didn’t bother me, as I was happy to be out in the City again. Sure, I was in a rich, swanky part of the City, and not exactly my crowd, yet there were people out and walking and talking and it was good to see, or I guess, remind myself of what I liked about the City. It was a pleasant not too warm Spring evening, with conversations floating around and bumping into each other, not unlike the people standing and waiting to get a table or seat at the joint they were in front of.

    What I did was make my way back to the subway, and headed for Harlem. I knew that the chance of me getting seat at one of my local bars was better. And I was right. I was able to camp at a corner seat, so I could watch the Mav’s get crushed by Golden State, and I could also hear a guy complain about his job to the bartender. I had my beer and a bourbon neat, and the windows were open in the place, so the sounds of the City could come in. A nice reminder why I like living in this place.

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