Kids ask the most probing things: The dangers of nature shows

Tonight, as a family we were watching an episode of Crocodile Hunter (yes, from the '90s) where Steve and Terri were on a beach where green turtles were mating in the shallow waters. The hosts talked about how during the hours-long mating the females are responsible for bringing both turtles to the surface to breathe because the males are too focused on what they're doing.

Without missing a beat, our son asked (with complete sincerity) "Is that what Daddy was like after you guys got married?"

After several minutes of uncontrollable laughter, we could only say: "Not exactly." 

The simple joys of being a middle-aged dad: Flash Gordon theme edition

Somewhere in my past the chorus to the theme (by Queen) from the 1980 Flash Gordon movie got quasi-embedded in my brain--particularly that couplet: 

Flash! A-ah!  

Savior of the universe! 

 

Over time my brain changed the second line to "Defender of the universe" (which I think works better in the meter, but that's another topic) but the melody remained, and the key (of course) was the "A-ah!" vocalization after the hero's name. It's not as though I was a huge fan of the movie (I was not) nor a huge fan of the song (it's fine); but that part was just an earworm that was in me permanently.

For no good reason other than my own amusement, occasionally I'd adapt it and substitute another single-syllable word where the "Flash!" was, to elevate the term in a ridiculous way; e.g., "Cheese! A-ah! Defender of the universe!"--although I have no recollection of using that one in particular. It's always spontaneous, tossed out in the moment when an appropriate word comes up in our conversations, as a jocular interjection, so they never stick with me.

Say It: Black Lives Matter

[Although I haven't been posting lately here on the blahg, over on the Book of Faces I do still occasionally post privately to only friends, mostly so relatives who live at a distance can see pictures of our son. This is what I posted there, shared here because it's important.]

You’ve probably noticed my hiatus from posting, and it is due to the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor and Tony McDade and countless others that have spurred the current protests. It has been a very difficult time, not merely as a human capable of empathy, but because of my life. I’m not only one who has benefited from the centuries of white supremacy that led to the troubling society we have, but I’m also the father of an amazing Black boy and husband of a phenomenal Black woman, the two people I love most. I have an extended African-American family who through the grace of God is still with us. It’s not abstract anger about the news; for me it’s very personal.

And we’ve had to keep parenting during a pandemic.

I know many of you enjoy these photos of my son and wife. (Yes, mostly our son.) They are a source of joy in this world. But they’re also a Black boy and Black woman in this world, which you need to understand means it’s a more dangerous world for them than for many of the rest of us.

I know you care about them. I know you believe their lives are just as important as your own. But I need you to declare that not only about their lives but the lives of all Black people matter. Now.

I ask you to leave a comment on this post stating Black Lives Matter.

I need to know you are with me on this.

This is not jumping on some bandwagon. This is simply what should be an obvious view in our society, but clearly it’s not. However, I must believe that it’s possible we can get there, and I beseech you to type three little (but critically important) words below to tell me you believe it too.

Saying Black Lives Matter does not suggest that other lives don’t. It means you believe they matter just as much.

Black Lives Matter. Now and forever. Please join me so I can see who my friends really are.

Taking your medicine

A single moment can change your day, and it doesn’t even need to be that big a moment.

Take yesterday morning.  It was the first time that our kindergartner could wear something other than his school uniform or his PE clothes, and unlike most mornings he eagerly got dressed. The theme was dots (or circles) and he had his red Flash shirt (with the lightning bolt through a circle, but in the design the circle diffused into dots).  He even picked out shorts and socks that had some such pattern.  He was really into it.

As we were wrapping things up before it was time to leave, Mommy asked if he’d had some medicine and he had not; this week he had been coughing some with occasionally runny nose. As she finished getting ready in the living room, I went and poured some into the little cup. She sent him over to the kitchen where I was, and he looked at the cup and said, “That’s more than zero.” I didn’t think much about that and simply replied, “Yes, now here.” As we were running short on time and he was hesitating, I put the cups to his lips and tilted it so the medicine would run down into his mouth.

He then closed his mouth and it spilt down on his shirt and shorts in large globs that did not look like dots.

Play it LOUD, Daddy

Last night on the drive home our preschooler had a full-on crying fit... because I wouldn't play "Here and Now" by Letters To Cleo at full volume in the car.

"I like it super loud" was his argument for why I should increase the volume. Which I countered with, "No"--but while still playing it louder than I would listen to, say, NPR.

Then for tonight's drive the iPod played a mix of songs that I kept at a very modest volume... until he decided he wanted Grant Lee Buffalo's "Truly, Truly" turned up--not that he'd ever heard that before; it may simply have been what came on at the moment he wanted the music louder in general. And the volume stayed up for... the Carpenters' version of "Reason To Believe". When he wanted "super loud" I said, "How about semi-super loud?" That distracted him as he then had to ask what that meant.

Then to close our commute he requested that we listen to the Bauhaus cover of "Ziggy Stardust" twice in a row. That he accepted at just normal volume--which, again, was louder than I'd do for NPR. Because Ziggy played.. gui-tar.