Some old excerpts (again)...

I put M 'n' m in a bath together. Things didn't go well. (6-year-old) Michael said, "Megan kicked my penis and that is really terrible for my penis." True. It's also true that a pronoun can be used to avoid repeating a noun.

M ‘n’ m and I were eating at a diner and some college-age women walked in. Excited by her new membership, (6-year-old) Megan said, “I wonder if those girls are in Girl Scouts, Dad!”

Whenever (3-year-old) Megan sees baseball or football or any sport whatsoever on TV, she says, “Look, Daddy, the Cubs!”

(4-year-old) Megan still puts her shoes on the wrong feet. It should be 50/50, right? As in, half the time she gets it right, half the time wrong? No. We’re not even close to that.

(7-year-old) Michael asked me, “Do Jedi take baths or showers?”

I told (5-year-old) Megan that Grandma and Papa picked out a new puppy. A little girl. Megan liked that! She did NOT, however, like it when I mentioned the puppy has to stay with her mommy at the breeder for another month. Megan said, “A month?! How many minutes is that, Daddy?”

(5-year-old Megan) decided to teach me about ‘the birds and the bees.’ She said, “Daddy, did you know girls have a special pipe?” I was confused and said, “Pipe?” She said, “Yes, girls have a pipe in their tummy, it’s a special pipe for babies. Mommy has one, and I have a little one.” Not ready for this discussion yet...

(5-year-old Megan) learned the Hail Mary prayer. She recited it correctly except for, “Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for the scissors.” Scissors, sinners, nearly the same...

When Michael gives (5-year-old) Megan a command like, “Pick up your mess, Megan,” or “You need a jacket, Megan,” she says, “You know Michael, you’re not the daddy!” That’s right, Honey-Bunny! Good girl! I’m the daddy!!

(From 2010) I'm off to China again for work. The kids will visit Houston while I’m gone. “Megan asked me, “Do we go past China to get to Houston?” No Lovebug, but I wish.

We play T-ball in the front yard. Of course only the kids hit. Finally, Michael said, “We should let Daddy hit too.” Megan said, “Oh no, Daddy will hit it all the way to Africa.”

I took Megan to school and must’ve deviated from the usual route. She said, “Daddy, you’re going the wrong way.” I said, “Okay My Love, can you show me how to get to your school?” She said, “Yes, I will show you when I see it.”

(6-year-old Megan) read to me last night. "Go, Dog. Go!" was the book. Megan said, "It's pretty long, Dad, but I can read it to you fast if you want."

We were watching the Cubs and Meggie said, "Dad, the baseball players spit on their court. It's crazy, right? You can't spit on your court!"

Megan said, "Dad, did you know a long, long time ago in Egypt, they didn't wear underpants? I said, "Really, that's interesting, how do you know that?" Megan said, "I saw it at the museum, there was a picture of an Egypt man, and he was naked." 

From the top of the Sears Tower looking down at massive, busy Chicago, (7-year-old) Michael said, “I can’t believe God has this all under control.”

I started the shower for (8-year-old) Michael. He said, “I don’t wanna take a shower.” I said, “Five minutes ago I asked you, and you said you’d shower instead of bathe today.” Michael said, “Well, do you ever answer a question without thinking?” “Yes,” I admitted. “Well I do too,” he said.

(7-year-old) Michael said, “For some reason, I have an effect on girls. I don’t know what it is.”

(6-year-old) Michael asked me, “Daddy, does looking at cake make you want to eat cake?” Deep, Michael. Very deep.

(From 2011) The other day I heard, “Daddy is always happy.” It was Megan’s sweet voice in the backseat and she said it again, just pointing out a thing to her brother like she often does, “Daddy is always happy, Michael.” One of my proudest moments as a father….

#354

The most professionally successful person I know is also the most impulsive. He's a dynamo, a titan, whatever the trendy word is, but his impulsivity is titanic also. A prominent person in the lives of M 'n' m, I thought of him when I read this quote from Baltasar Gracian: "Let the first impulse pass. Wait for the second." ... And yet, how can I suggest impulsivity is something – for M 'n' m, I mean – that needs restraining or softening in every sense? The guy I'm referring to always compulsively worked his butt off, starting off every day knocking out tasks, checking things off his many professional and personal to-do lists, etcetera etcetera. He can be a force. Grandma is a workhorse too – uh-oh, have I given it away? – and she's not impulsive at all, so that muddies up the clear answer I was searching for in my little philosophical dissection here. And there's a pretty massive difference between teenagers and adults to consider. One group can act like a racecar without a driver, but the other, arguably, always acts like that. I guess this is the point where I say: if life was cut and dry and neat, it wouldn't be life at all. Just teach your kids to be impulsive about the right things. Easy, right? Whatever the case, I don't wish to entirely dispossess M 'n' m of any particular impulsivities. Yet.

From the American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry: "Many parents do not understand why their teenagers occasionally behave in an impulsive, irrational, or dangerous way. At times, it seems like teens don't think things through or fully consider the consequences of their actions. Adolescents differ from adults in the way they behave, solve problems, and make decisions. There is a biological explanation for this difference. Studies have shown that brains continue to mature and develop throughout childhood and adolescence and well into early adulthood. Scientists have identified a specific region of the brain called the amygdala that is responsible for immediate reactions including fear and aggressive behavior. This region develops early. However, the frontal cortex, the area of the brain that controls reasoning and helps us think before we act, develops later. This part of the brain is still changing and maturing well into adulthood.... Pictures of the brain in action show that adolescents' brains work differently than adults when they make decisions or solve problems. Their actions are guided more by the emotional and reactive amygdala and less by the thoughtful, logical frontal cortex. Research has also shown that exposure to drugs and alcohol during the teen years can change or delay these developments."

Great, they had to go and mention drugs and alcohol, on top of the rest. Life isn't cut and dry and it's full of wildcards.

Let's talk about good things....When I reflect and mine for great childhood memories with my parents – excepting those at school or only with friends – there are many, but it's interesting to see what commonly surfaces. And this, in turn, possibly reminds me what things M 'n' m may fondly recall. The 'childhood' ship has almost sailed for Michael; it will be unmoored very soon, but hopefully not rudderless, or frontal-cortex-less, or fond-memory-less. Here are some experiences and memories from my youth that I'm grateful for (grateful to my parents): Washington DC, Boston, the Badlands, Hawaii, San Antonio, lots of California, lots of Florida, Disney, every sports hall of fame, Niagara Falls, Summit County (Colorado), Mount Rushmore, the No. 10 Saloon, the Old North Bridge, Gettysburg, Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, Salem (Mass. – that freaked me out a little but what a lesson), Ford's Theatre, Kennedy Space Center, every major attraction in the cities I mentioned, and on and on. Holidays were fantastic, and the support in school and sports. M 'n' m have that for sure. I wouldn't give myself a bad grade overall. I'll be able to paint a wall with my coaching plaques someday. But that is selfish; I enjoy coaching so much I see it as a gift from M 'n' m, not the other way around. But they owe me, so it all works out in the end...

And more good things, books.... there are three books that I've read, in my 40 plus years, that are so good I reread them backwards; well, not quite, but I pick them up, sniff and sigh happily, and crack them open anywhere, thumbing upstream or down, re-enjoying the bits I've underlined, starred, bracketed, and accidentally darkened with delicious food residue like chip-cheese and grease. They're just awesome stories, and the writing is like the richest thing you've ever eaten; they are: A Soldier of the Great War by Mark Helprin, City of Thieves by David Benioff, and Gentleman of the Road by Michael Chabon. I wonder what M 'n' m's 'three' will be in about twenty years?

#353

One the heels of mentioning love, let's talk about vulnerability. To be alive is to be vulnerable; might as well embrace it. Pretty sure M 'n' m will have their hearts kicked around; happens to the best of us. Pretty sure M 'n' m will be vulnerable to mockery, needling, discomfort, insecurity, and minor embarrassment in social situations once in a while, especially involving anyone they're crushing on – is the term 'crush' even used in this century? – and I hope they handle it well, and still act and do and express (in all the ways that are fun, healthy, and legal I mean) as reward for not avoiding vulnerability. I like what Brendon Burchard says (I'm paraphrasing): "I realize fear and doubt aren't going to serve me in social situations.... and I choose to say, okay, I don't know how this will go, but I'm confident if I engage and talk, things will go fine, I might stick my foot in my mouth, say stupid things, but if they give me another three minutes, I'll turn it around.... Emotional health comes from vulnerability and vulnerability has gotten this weird rap in the world because a lot of people, I think, have been teaching it in a poor way.... Real vulnerability is voice.... Does the world know what you think? Do your friends and family know who you really are, and what you really feel, and what you're really after?"

Some people – Megan? – have zero hesitancy, and no filter or inhibitions, about expressing discontents, and God knows the world, myself included, is really good at oversharing these days, but I believe the vulnerability piece is about genuineness, authenticity, and the well-being that comes with finding and being true to yourself, and not being afraid to express the truths that you subscribe to, that inspire you, that inform the way you show up everyday to live. And love. It is okay to love things, and love other people. It's not just okay, it's good. Or, as the musician Ryan Adams says, “There is nothing wrong with loving the crap out of everything. Negative people find their walls. So never apologize for your enthusiasm. Never. Ever. Never.” Amen, brother.

Sharing – whether it's your writing, music, art, or any other hobby, love, or work – has a little to do with vulnerability. But it's also a lot about catharsis, and health, and sanity, and joy.

This from Sheryl Strayed, author of the book Wild and also famous for the terrific phrase, given in her advice column, "Write like a mother#^@%*&." Specifically, when asked by a woman named Elissa Bassist,“How does a woman get up and become the writer she wishes she’d be?” Strayed replied: “Writing is hard for every last one of us – straight white men included. Coal mining is harder. Do you think miners stand around all day talking about how hard it is to mine for coal? They do not. They simply dig. You need to do the same.... So write, Elissa Bassist. Not like a girl. Not like a boy. Write like a motherfucker.”

"I would say the most cathartic thing in my life, right alongside motherhood, has been writing." — Cheryl Strayed

#352

Couple comments on young love. Megan, in particular, has unwittingly revealed special interests in special someones before; lately, she insists on riding the school bus – even if a drop-off or pick-up by parent is available – and we think it's about a boy. Oh brother. I had my first crushes on girls named Desiree and Ashley – I'm sure, thankfully, they don't read this – and I remember the feelings as not silly or insignificant (at the time, when I was a little younger than Meg). I wanted badly to impress. Oh brother. Yeah, again. Oh, Megan's little heart. I'm no expert on love – never was, never will be – but mercifully I see in plenty of other decent folks what I see in myself, a sort of effortful but scuffling amateurism, when it comes to reading and loving your person expertly, for their optimal happiness and yours.

expert
noun 
1. one with the special skill or knowledge representing mastery of a particular subject

mastery
noun
1. command or grasp, as of a subject
2. the upper hand in a contest or competition, superiority

That settles that. So M 'n' m are lucky to be at the starting line. It's fun; it's painful; it's novel, eventful, and more human than almost anything else, the rush and energy of emotional love. Hopefully their young experiences serve to wisen, strengthen, and point them in the best direction.

From Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet: To love is also good: for love is difficult. Fondness between human beings: that is perhaps the most difficult task that is set us, the ultimate thing, the final trial and test, the work for which all other work is only preparation. Therefore young people, who are beginners in everything, cannot know love yet: they have to learn it. With their whole being, with all their strength gathered about their lonely, fearful, upward beating heart, they must learn to love. But apprenticeship is always a long, secluded time, and therefore loving is for a long while, far into life.... Loving in the first instance is nothing that can be called losing... it is a sublime occasion for the individual to mature.

And another applicable quote? When stricken with 'bad luck' and heartbroken?

“You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from.” — Cormac McCarthy

I blew past 350 posts...

... and something John McPhee wrote comes to mind, about – paraphrasing now – how the subjects you write about must be of powerful interest to you; they must see you through the process of learning how to write well, or not so poorly you're afraid to share; and I'm afraid of many things; although I feel that energy soften sometimes as I age, before it roars back; after all, we have more things, more people to worry about as we age. Don't we? I believe so, if we live well. And yet we only have a single windshield to look through, truly, as humans, as we go, so our speed and direction, obstacles, traffic, ice, breakdowns, flat tires, thoughts of why my 'car' isn't as expensive as that one, and bugs – summer bug explosions on windshields are worthy of mention, aren't they? No, not if I follow McPhee's advice and write well – and run-on sentences are bad, and staying on message is essential – so every age and moment we look through our one-and-only view, our windshield, can't be that unimportant, consciously or not (we are complex creatures with some pretty persistent Darwinian horsepower, if nothing else); we should keep moving if we're blessed with the means; our future is a kind of structure made of bricks, one for every day before it, mortared and stacked – I've gone from cars to buildings now – so put some design and intentionality in it, right? Oh, what happens when cars drive themselves soon; we won't have to keep eyes forward anymore. So... M 'n' m are my subjects, obviously. I am very, very grateful for them. I express that often. Most importantly, to them. And in the context of this M 'n' m canvas, which kind of has a life of its own now, here and there I drop a note, a jot, a wordy and confusing scribble about sports, music, history, Iowa State, or writing itself. It took me years to learn – though I wander off the path and only every time, albeit happily – that good writing is really about omission. John McPhee: "Writing is selection. Just to start a piece of writing you have to choose one word and only one from more than a million in the language. Now keep going. What is your next word? Your next sentence, paragraph, section, chapter? Your next ball of fact. You select what goes in and you decide what stays out. At base you have only one criterion: If something interests you, it goes in – if not, it stays out. That’s a crude way to assess things, but it’s all you’ve got.... Write on subjects in which you have enough interest on your own to see you through all the stops, starts, hesitations, and other impediments along the way. Ideally, a piece of writing should grow to whatever length is sustained by its selected material – that much and no more." 

Indeed, the "that much and no more" part is unsurprisingly what I struggle with. 350. I never feel comfortable going back to any of them. Thank God a picture speaks a thousand words. Thank God for digital cameras (in our smartphones now and ubiquitous, my life's work to this point it occurs to me). But thank God for creative catharsis, I'll call it; for me it's this. And the music I'm listening to on YouTube right now. Thanks for reading. It's fun to have an audience; incidentally my readership is larger than it's ever been. Did I mention being human?

"Remember, you are a thought machine, everything you see, hear, experience is usable... whatever makes you unique... do it, and know that there's room for you."
     — Steve Martin 

"You could damn yourself with silence but never so effectively as by running your mouth."
     — Michael Chabon, Telegraph Avenue

But I say – fishtailing through life haphazardly, or intentionally haphazardly; sorry, but I've never seen another way, despite some impressive and enviable facades; slapping down those bricks, every day a new one, and it looks good, really, it looks good because everything is art and heart and expression, every step, every slip, every crash; enjoy the ride – do it anyway.

#351

The weather's turning and this morning I hear a beautiful sound outside my bedroom window. April showers? Warm winds? Airliners with spring-breakers leaving O'Hare? No. Songbirds? Yes, actually, if any get drafted. You know, Cardinals, Bluejays? (The Cubs open tomorrow in St. Louis, coincidentally.) Yeah, I'm thinking baseball; our home abuts an area high school and they're at it again; I hear bats crushing baseballs, hard throws popping leather, shouts over the diamond. To me, a symphony. Released from the gym, the weight room, the indoor cages, free on the dirt and grass. Pounding baseballs into nets is a poor substitute for driving them over fences or into gaps. The feel of spikes on a good field, fingertips on seams, batting gloves and grips. Megan has her first softball practice this afternoon. I'm excited to coach her 5th and 6th grade team this year. Michael's been practicing all winter and has another session tomorrow. As Bruce Buffer says... "It's time!"

"People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring."
     — Rogers Hornsby

"Any ballplayer that don't sign autographs for little kids ain't an American. He's a communist."
     — Rogers Hornsby

"I don't like to sound egotistical, but every time I stepped up to the plate with a bat in my hands, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the pitcher."
     — Rogers Hornsby