update for grandmas

Hello Grandmas, here is exclusive, first time footage of Kaiser in his new big boy chair. First he played in it, then he had a meal of rice cereal; the chair was messy. But he sat in it without any trouble. Just thought you might like to know.

Dj Dad

my resume: a fictional account of a true story part 1

As with all great events, my life and death passed by while I hardly noticed. It just wasn’t very noisy.

There is a certain silence that comes with deafness that sounds like music. I turn to hear more but it is always behind me. When I ignore it, it becomes faintly louder, tantalizing me as a spiritual hunger. “Lazarus…” it calls to me, but my name isn’t Lazarus. I am too embarrassed to turn and look. I continue hoeing the bean field. “Sing with me…” it says, tormenting me with its joy. “I have taken a vow of silence...” I grumble.

Silence is one of the few means of salvation for me now. The Presence has informed me of the number of times I have said “damn this…” and “god damn that…” during my life. To speak words of the human heart now would turn spirit to flesh. Flesh is weighty; it always sinks to the bottom, below the middle of the bottom.

It has become my lot in this life to hoe this bean field. I chose this instead of an expedited trial by fire. “Who do you say I am?” He asked me during my trial, adding, “I know your face, but you are wearing the enemy’s uniform!” Indeed, I was wearing the wrong uniform, but it was comfortable and it has lots of nifty pockets. His chosen ones began eternity in the nude as they had given so much to the poor. Generosity helps one pack lightly. It didn’t help that I tried to smuggle a wheelbarrow of essentials past security: laundry supplies, hangers, soda, beef jerky, etc… “I thought it was a long drive, like I might need a few things.” His frustrated “Humph” as he rolled his magnificent eyes and rubbed his forehead, reverberated through eternity. I had felt this echo before, yes, during my prayer time: “…and may I have a new Jeep?! Oh, a new desk too, and a fast computer…” This was the response I had felt while turning in my wish list all those years. I still wanted to ask if I could have a private room, as roommates can be a nuisance, or if I had to have a roomy, if I could have the top bunk, but this wasn’t a good time to quote John 14:14. “Go…” He said and waved me to the left. Celestial escorts guided me down a hall that smelled of goats, but then we turned and entered an office.

“Sit.” He said. “So, you’re a literature major, class of ’04?”

I nodded.

“Have I heard of you, did you write anything famous?” I struggled to be honest as I wanted to hold up a Pulitzer or Nobel laurels, alas, I summarized my writing career with a shrug.

“Nothing?”, again he prodded.

“Um…” I tried, knowing that a good writer would never begin with “um”

“Humph”, he replied exasperated, slamming the cover closed on my file. He looked at me rather forcefully, then partly opened my file again and scribbled some notes.

“There” he said. “You’ve been assigned...”

To be continued...

communion

We went to the edge
Where prayers wait for answers.

We went together whispering along the way
Of gratitude for your voice we see in the mountains.

You hide spring blossoms under winter rage
Where only faith can see them bloom.

What is blindness to joy?

Two souls hold a child
Where there once was none.

seymour butz

Have you ever had one of those days when everything feels awkward; something just isn’t right? And then, in the middle of the check out line you realize that you’re not wearing any underpants, or they’re someone else’s underpants. Sometimes I wake up on a park bench under yesterday’s paper. I dunno…

This morning when my son and I were having our morning coffee, it occurred to me that I must somehow transform this boy into a man. I must convey a lifetime of wisdom in relationships, finances, spirituality, ergonomics, fort building, rock skipping and puddle jumping.

I just learned how to match socks, and everything I know about relationships and marriage I learned from the Three Stooges. It took Tamara years to train me to not poke her in the eyes, to not throw pies after dinner and to never slap any three people who are standing so conveniently in a row. The nice people at church hate when I do this. And never, under any circumstances, hit a police officer with a large sandwich, a boxing glove, or a paint brush. Apparently the laws have changed a lot since Moe, Larry and Curley made their movies. So I've been told.

But I have a plan. Well, usually my plan is to let Tamara do it. She’s smart. She actually has a day planner for this year. Mine is from 1974. It has Elvis on it. I like Elvis.

We’ll have a bar-mitzvah. A good old fashioned rock-n-roll, Protestant, patriotic fourth-of-July bar-mitzvah. With a piñata. And puppets who sing of the heroism of the Maccabaeus, Masada and Moses….

For some reason I didn’t have one as a boy. I guess our church didn’t have a rabbi on call.

But my son will have a coming of age celebration. After which we will discuss the responsibilities of manhood. Since I can’t afford a celebrity football spokesman, I will have to do it.

Upon this day my son have access to the adult world and will begin making choices. He will inherit my PSP, he will encounter the Three Stooges for himself and he will be given my entire collection of Christian punk music: Altar Boys, Undercover, One Bad Pig…

We will discuss love, which I will explain with LEGO’s. “Boys have blue LEGO’s; girls have pink LEGO’s…” And he will be allowed to have pictures of girls on his wall in his bedroom and in his locker at school—with one condition: they must be at least sixty. I will give him a stack of AARP’s and he can ponder the beauty of such sexy seniors as, Betty White, Nancy Reagan and Eleanor Roosevelt.

And as mischievous boys do, he will be allowed to make prank phone calls; pre-arranged of course. I will dial a “random” number, yours, and you will act “surprised” when he asks about Ivana Tinkle and Amanda Hugnkiss. Everyone is happy.

Um, I guess a few years after this we will tie him up and drop him off at the nearest Army recruiter.

Well, so far that’s my plan. By now you have already called to warn Tamara and she’s helped me make a few adjustments, so for now I will just enjoy this quiet morning alone with my son.

Mmm, great coffee son.

Dj Kosmo

pennies planted

My philosophy prof said it best, "Sometimes I just want to sit on the floor and play with my son." I agree. I set this weekend aside just to play. That's it. I worked enough, met goals, did the right things; now it is time to squander time--just give it away.

DAY 1 We started Friday night. Grandma Lil had Kaiser for the evening while Tamara and I drove to meet Terran and Naomi at a pub called, "The Ale House". This is our first date without our son, I think we did ok; ale helps. We only called Grandma when we were leaving to come home, we didn't check on him once. Grandma Lil is a professional mother. We have little to worry about. And Kaiser slept the whole time.

(Kaden, far right.)

DAY 2 I was given two tickets to see a magic show. Tamara suggested taking Kaden. At two o' clock Wade and Jen dropped him off and we drove over to the theater. There were at least a hundred kids in there, all anticipating magic. One of the magicians is a friend of mine who does stage magic, the other does street magic.

The show began with Greg, my friend, arising from fog, awing the audience, then asking for two volunteers. One pretty little girl dressed as a princess and Kaden were chosen. Greg sprinkled magic dust over his magic hat and produced eggs. He let the kids check it first, so they were totally amazed; how, how did he do that? Kaden replied seriously, "Magic hat. Magic eggs."

After the show I took Kaden home and picked up Keagen. We had a special project: GIANT lego helicopter. I bought a brand new one for a mere five-dollars. Keagan is really good at logic, assembly and matching. He didn't ask for help, or any have questions. He moved along rather quickly, like a Lego pro. It wasn't much of a challenge. However, we didn't quite finish because we had to be at the church for the anti-Halloween harvest party--free games and candy! We had a lot of fun there too!

DAY 3 We have church in the morning, so I will sit with Kaiser in the breast-feeding room/mother's room, while Tamara plays piano. Since women don't want to share the room with an unshaven, rambunctious manly man, I always have it to myself. I spread out all of my baby gear, my books, Thermos and snacks, and just relax. Me and Kaiser spend the morning together until Mommy is finished and then we walk home together.

In the evening will be Man Movie Night. We will watch some action flick, drink beer and eat nachos.

I have to mention my deep appreciation for the many volunteers who made these events possible. Two dozen people helped with the magic show. One kind women handed out tooth brushes. I imagine that it takes weeks to perfect the magic tricks, and all for the amusement of children. That's cool. I can't do any fancy magic tricks, but I can make cake disappear. And at the church too, dozens of people were there to play games, paint faces, give prizes, make treats. All for the smile of a child.

I am glad that I wasted this weekend. I had a glimmer of faith renewed for humanity. Some people still care. I can honestly say that when I grow up I still want to be a little boy.

Dj Play

bitch magazine

When my son was born our family received many, many gifts. One, however I am at odds with. It’s a magazine for parenting. There are no men in the pictures, no fathers. There are women, mostly white, Caucasian, and smiling mindlessly about floor cleaners and the miracles of modern diapers. All of the women are young and slender, as if they had a child without the nine months of pregnancy, and the children are mostly girls. The few pictures there are of boys, they are either hermaphrodites with long dark curls, or the boy is in trouble. As if boys are the only kind of child who needs correction. After several months of this hate-propaganda, I wonder if Joseph Goebbels is the editor spinning another Big Lie. The lie is that families don’t need husbands and fathers.

If this feminist rag hired a sober photographer you would see a man in the background fixing the plumbing, changing the oil, putting medicine in a kitten’s infected eye, washing piles of diapers, cooking dinner while an exhausted mom sleeps, and going to work everyday so mommy can be at home with junior.

A man's work never ends. On top of all my family to-do's, I must strive to be my wife's and my son's hero; present, strong, generous, able...

Along with the hateful absence of men, there are also no children (or parents) with disabilities. I know children with disabilities and they are no less cute, brilliant, or fun than other kids. Why not have models with disabilities? Why not have dads.

Since this magazine only promulgates an Aryan sylph fantasy, I will no longer set it on my coffee table. And I am too busy to read it anyway; laundry.

As the war against men rages, I am and will continue to be: IRON MAN.

Dj Dad2tru

jump for joy

Our little cosmonut is really enjoying jump training. Everyday he spends an hour or two in the AGRS--Anti Gravity Retraction Seat, first used by NASA for early-phase pilot re-entry training in the 1950's. Of course, this was back when NASA was family owned and operated. It is now popular among young parents and can be found in most heaps of baby stuff at yard sales.

In this video the young pilot is seen utilizing his sensory equipment--he's trying to grab the animals in the front. The Soviet version of the AGRS is gray and comes with bobble heads of Marx, Lenin and Stalin. I think parrots and monkeys will do for my child's training phase. Although we were disappointed that this model didn't come with a cup holder for his morning coffee, he still takes his Viennese cappuccino in a bottle (like his dad) and it doesn't have an ashtray, or any place to put small screws for carpentry projects.

I would like to buy one Soviet component for my son's AGRS, a banana paste dispenser. Most Soviet pilots were chimps, but I could use it for his liquid peas-n-carrots, and still shoot squirrels from the back porch.

It's hard to be a Dad these days, but science and technology make it so much easier.

Dj Dad

family morning

We loaded our little cosmonut in his sputnik capsule for pangaia exploration; we went to the park. We loaded all our urban survival gear and attempted a mere strolling maneuver. I even said hello to someone. Wow, what a morning. Kaiser fussed a bit because he was sleepy and wanted to stay up to watch the scenery. Eventually he fell asleep. Here are some pics of our flight captain and the actual capsule used in this mission.

-Djay dad

power of weakness

People have been wondering why I have been so cheerful lately. Apparently I have been smiling(?). Strange. I am typically surly; impatient. I am Apollonian and Promethean. When I am discouraged I read Russian literature, Ecclesiastes, and Emily Dickinson to cheer me up. I power scowl at old women who take too long paying for groceries. I hate barber shop quartets, poodles and Arkansas.

I have based my ethical and moral outlook on the comic book series: THOR.

So why the sudden change in weather? Tamara. She is Canadian. An optimist. A Sister of Mercy. She makes nanaimo bars for orphans, police officers and widows. And she actually enjoys sharing. Apparently she has been putting gripe water in my coffee. A lot. Even at church I have been singing out loud, on key. Not rapping the lyrics to my own personal back beats. Was that me with my shirt tucked in? Maybe. I dunno. It's all a blur. I guess gripe water isn't just for infants anymore, it's also for babies. Big babies.

Oh well. I guess cheerfulness isn't so bad. I just keep in mind what Nietzsche said: That which does not kill me only makes me stronger.

Dj burps

marriage 101

I found an interesting article on CNN about men and marriage: Women's Pet Peeves About Their Guy. Although the article is slanted there are still lessons to be learned. Here are some quotations:

He throws his clothes next to the laundry basket. This is one of the most annoying things that he does. After 11 years, you would think he would finally see where the laundry basket is, but no. I've tried moving the laundry basket to where the clothes land, but he still misses the basket. At this point I think he might be doing it on purpose. Linda S., Pennsylvania

He loves to leave empty and unrinsed soda cans in the sink, even when the sink is empty and has just been cleaned. I rinse and recycle the cans and move on. Anonymous

My husband is quite the prankster; he used to fall on the floor at random times and lay there, lifeless. I finally conveyed to him that if he ever really passed out, I would probably just walk away and assume that he was up to his usual tricks. I guess the thought of that really scared him, because he stopped doing it! Jamie M. Alabama

My husband pretends to listen while he is working but he doesn't actually hear the words I am saying. So those important conversations I thought we were having tend to be forgotten a day later. I chalk it up to being a workaholic who takes after his dad. The good thing is that the next day I can have the same conversation and it will be brand new to him. It's kind of like Groundhog Day! Bobbi L. Texas

Since I pretty much went to bible school I can think of a scriptural application, remember the eleventh commandment: Thou shalt not commit nincompoopery. Your wife does not want that last drop of soda; rinse out the can. Don't play dead unless you are. Find the laundry basket, or shower with your clothes on. Listen to her, that's all she wants. Share with her about what you learned today. For example, I learned that my four-month old son prefers Starbucks white mocha cappuccino to vanilla latte. And who would have guessed that the barristas would be so kind as to make his cappuccinos with baby formula. Nutrition and caffeine, that's a happy baby! I am sure Tamara and I will have a lot to talk about real soon.

Dj Kosmoccino

anne

the boys are back

I took a vacation day from work so I could entertain friends who drove in from Michigan. They love the wild land of Colorado, so I took them in my 4X4 Toyota around the adobe hills, and as seen in the video, up the mesa. It was a perfect day for driving, we could see across the valley. The mesa is covered with sage and scrub oak, and some juniper trees. There are white bones scattered around too. I come up here for moss rocks for the garden, and for fossils. There are sea shells in the shale, so we collect pieces when we visit.

I haven't found any arrowheads, but I am sure that there are artifacts up here too.

Later in the evening, after driving around, we had Man Movie Night, and watched "Mega Shark verses Giant Octopus". This movie stars Debbie Gibson of 80's pop "fame". This movie is so bad we just laughed all the way through it. These carnivorous creatures keep attacking, and eating: bridges, jumbo jets, submarines, and surface vessels. They can't seem to make a sandwich of the whales they nibbled on. Over all, the movie doesn't really commit to its self, but the presumptuousness is very entertaining. And the best part is that Debbie doesn't sing. But I still wanted to shake my love. Whatever that means.

The Boys stayed for three days before returning to Michigan. We devoured nachos like locusts and quaffed beer. We talked trucks, travel and future reunions. They'll be back. Soon.

Dj Dryv