August 11, 2006
Morning
Back in Panera Bread again. Listening to Mozart now. I have a satellite radio, and I desperately need people to stop talking to me right now. The stations I usually listen to (baseball and politics) are full of words, and I just have too many words in my head right now.
We’re going to have to teach you words someday, won’t we? Hundreds of them, thousands of them. Millions of them? Do humans know a million words? Maybe. It amazes me that anyone can learn English as well as we do. There’s so many rules, and exceptions to rules, and exceptions to exceptions. Yet we manage to make ourselves understood, somehow.
I just finished a wonderful book called “Night of Power”, by Spider Robinson. It was wonderful, but heartbreaking as well. It’s about race. Someday you will notice that your Mom and your Dad, and me and your Aunt Debbie, have slightly different skin colors. It’s really a very silly thing, but we adults make a very big deal about this, even though most people, to be polite, pretend not to. You’re going to have to learn about this too, but I don’t know how to teach it to you, because I don’t understand it either.
For me, falling in love with your Aunt Debbie was as natural as taking a drink of water when you’re thirsty, or eating a sandwich when you’re hungry. I couldn’t NOT do it. I bet your Dad felt the same way about your Mom. Letting skin color enter into it would have been as unthinkable, to me, as letting the day of the week, or the amount of dirt on the sidewalk, to enter into it. To paraphrase Lisa Simpson-I know what the word racism means, but it still doesn’t make any sense.
An awful thing happened yesterday. Well, I guess, to be perfectly accurate an awful thing DIDN’T happen yesterday. British police announced that they caught 21 people who had been planning to blow up airplanes as they flew towards America. The fact that it didn’t happen is good. The fact that it almost happened is bad.
I don’t know what kind of a world this is to grow up in. Heck, I’m almost 35 years old, and I’m still not grown up yet. But there probably isn’t a GOOD time to grow up. I guess maybe you just make a baby and hope for the best. Is that what people have always done?
Sigh. This is turning into a downer. I don’t mean it to be. But its hard not to talk about life like this and at least be a little bit sad about it. There’s so much misery and awfulness and unpleasantness and cold and bitterness and rage. I don’t want to expose you to it. I didn’t want to expose Rick to it. But I did, and your parents will too, and there’s nothing else to do. There’s no way to protect you. And as I said, there is nothing that scares a parent more than that right there.
I made it onto page 7. Somebody told me that once I got to page 100 or so, that will be enough for a good book. I’m trying to put out one page per day, that way I will have time to get it printed and ready to give to your parents before you are born, which is about 200 days or so from now. So I have time, but I have to make myself keep at it, or I’ll put it off. I have a bad habit of doing that.
Despite this world with so much meanness, I guess I keep believing in the goodness of people. I don’t know why sometimes.
Yes, I do. I know that to believe the opposite makes someone ugly, and hard, and cold. I don’t want to be someone like that. You have to believe in people, have faith in their good nature. Sometimes the only reason I do that is because I don’t like where the road of NOT believing takes me.
So far that’s been enough.
Maybe your arrival will help me keep believing. Hard to imagine, you helping me? Well, if I can keep telling myself that YOU are depending on me, maybe that will make me keep going. I know Rick depends on me, too, but he’s going to be a teenager soon, and they are hard to like. So I guess I will keep striving, keep believing, for you, and for Savannah (Rick’s other cousin, who is my brother’s daughter).
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
August 8, 2006
Morning
I had to sleep part of the night on Rick’s bed, and so I woke up this morning with a stiff neck. I’m sure you will cause your Mom and Dad many nights like that. I’m pretty sure they don’t understand that yet. I was a little younger than they are now when Rick was born, and I sure didn’t understand it. Being a parent means a lot of sleepless nights, and, frankly, sleepless days. But they’ll get through it. We’ll help, if they want us to. That’s one of the hardest things-not being able to sleep. I will come over as much as I can to help your Mom and Dad get some sleep. And so will Aunt Debbie.
Its hard to know what to tell you. There’s so much to say, but then again, you won’t listen to a lot of it. I didn’t. Some things you just have to discover by yourself.
I sure hope you don’t have to discover a lot of painful things. I think you probably will, though. We all do. One of the things your Mom and Dad will discover, and you may discover, too, on some distant day 25 or 30 years from today-is that there is nothing more painful to a person than their child hurting in some way. There’s a writer named Dave Barry who writes for the Miami Herald who usually writes all funny stuff, but one time he wrote a very serious column about his son being sick. He said that he remembered
carrying his son into the hospital, praying that God could take the fever out of his son’s body and put it into his own.
That’s exactly what its like. It makes a parent crazy when their child is sick or injured, and you don’t want anything else in the world except to make it stop. But you can’t.
Evening
Funny how some days just fly by. You probably won’t notice this until you get into school, but some days as a human just shoot right by. Others can take forever to get through.
I bought some new shoes today, and got a haircut. I took Rick to karate. He did well-his teacher said his forms were very much improved, even though he didn’t want to go. But I didn’t do anything fun, really. I’m listening to the Red Sox game on a satellite radio. Those may be common by the time you read this, but at this point they are still pretty new. I grew up in Boston, so I stayed a Red Sox fan when I moved down here.
I met Aunt Debbie when I answered an ad in the Letter Exchange, a magazine for people who liked to write letters. Aunt Debbie and I were simply mad about letter writing, so we started corresponding. The funny part about that is that your Aunt Debbie’s best friend, Jill Cyrus, who I am sure you will meet someday, shared a post office box with Aunt Debbie back then. They would take turns answering the letters that came to the box-Aunt Debbie would take one, and then Jill would take the next one. It turns out that, when my letter came, it was Jill’s turn to answer. Jill didn’t want to take the letter, so Aunt Debbie did instead. I still like to tease Jill that she could have married me instead of Debbie. But I’m glad she didn’t, because I might not have met Debbie, and I wouldn’t have had Rick.
That’s another thing that’s funny. Your Mom might tell you someday that she had other boyfriends before she met your Dad, and your Dad I’m sure had girlfriends before he met your Mom. But your Mom and Dad had to meet in order to make you-no other combination of people would work. Same with Rick-if I never met your Aunt Debbie, Rick would have never been born. Its a funny thing, life.
The Red Sox are losing, so far. You won’t be born until this whole baseball season has ended and the next one has begun. Football season hasn’t even begun yet, and you won’t be born until it is completely over, too. Maybe the Eagles will win the Super Bowl this year. I think that would make your Mom and Dad happy. They have gone to Eagles games before, but I don’t know if they still do that.
I don’t know a lot of things about your Mom and Dad. I love them, because they are in my family, and because they are good people. But I have never been very good at making friends or keeping friends-I tend to keep to myself a lot. That’s part of the reason why I don’t know them too well-sometimes when they come over I’m too busy to talk with them, or I’m at work while they are here. Stuff like that. I wish I knew how to get to know them better. I am hoping that when you are born, that will give us a reason to get together more so I can help take care of you.
I will write more tomorrow. I hope I will, anyway.
“I once believed in causes, too-
Had my pointless point of view-
But life went on no matter who was wrong or right.”
Billy Joel, “Angry Young Man”
August 9, 2006
Morning
Another day at Panera. I really can’t afford to keep eating here every morning, but the internet is free, and the food is good. And the quiet lets me write to you in peace.
I’m not sure why it is, but I suddenly see pregnant women everywhere. They say you just notice it more when someone you know is pregnant, but I don’t know about that. It sure seems like there are more lately. Of course, your Mom is one of them now. Although she’s not at the point where it is obvious to onlookers yet.
I’ve written five pages so far. My goal is to make this large enough so that I can have it printed in book form and give it to you when you’re born.
The Red Sox lost to the Royals last night, 6-4. I don’t know if you’re even going to like sports, but you might. It’s hard to really, really care about a sports team, because there is nothing you can do to change it. You just have to watch, and hope. That’s kind of like being a parent, in a small way. Watch, and hope.
I definitely plan to buy you some Red Sox stuff-baby clothes, and bottles, and all that stuff. You don’t have to like them, though, if you don’t want. I’ll even love you if you like the Yankees.
I just won’t understand you.
Your family is odd, make no mistake. I only really know about the Schuster side, and then again not even them very much-but we are an odd bunch. All families are, really. Your grandfather Adolph worked for a very long time at a very, very hard job, but he loves Rick very, very much. And I know he’ll love you just as much.
It’s so funny to be writing to you, when I don’t know if you’ll ever read it. Hopefully someday you will, and maybe it will make you feel good that, while you were busy growing fingers and toes and a liver and spleen, we adults were thinking about you and getting ready for your arrival.
I don’t want to forget about your Mom and Dad, though. One thing that people do when a baby is coming or has been born is they tend to focus so much on the baby they forget about the parents. Being a parent is really, really hard work, and I hope I can help your Mom and Dad remember that we care about them, too. Moms are more than just containers for babies. I think your Mom understands that.
It’s been a beautiful week, weather wise. A couple of weeks ago, (you were around, but I didn’t know about you yet. In fact, your Mom might not have known yet either.) it was really, really hot. It was 100 degrees for several days, and very, very humid. Not fun. But its much nicer now.
Weather is something you’re going to have to learn about, too. Weather, and avocados, and kangaroos, and taco shells, and curveballs, and bottled water, and sidewalks, and music and art and literature.
Your Aunt and your Grandmother make a big deal about the weather when it snows. It doesn’t bother me that much, possibly because I grew up in Massachusetts. It snows a lot more up there, and they do a better job plowing the roads. Down here, if we get 2 inches of snow, its a major crisis.
Someday, we’re going to teach you about snow, too.
This is going to be fun, I think.
Morning
I had to sleep part of the night on Rick’s bed, and so I woke up this morning with a stiff neck. I’m sure you will cause your Mom and Dad many nights like that. I’m pretty sure they don’t understand that yet. I was a little younger than they are now when Rick was born, and I sure didn’t understand it. Being a parent means a lot of sleepless nights, and, frankly, sleepless days. But they’ll get through it. We’ll help, if they want us to. That’s one of the hardest things-not being able to sleep. I will come over as much as I can to help your Mom and Dad get some sleep. And so will Aunt Debbie.
Its hard to know what to tell you. There’s so much to say, but then again, you won’t listen to a lot of it. I didn’t. Some things you just have to discover by yourself.
I sure hope you don’t have to discover a lot of painful things. I think you probably will, though. We all do. One of the things your Mom and Dad will discover, and you may discover, too, on some distant day 25 or 30 years from today-is that there is nothing more painful to a person than their child hurting in some way. There’s a writer named Dave Barry who writes for the Miami Herald who usually writes all funny stuff, but one time he wrote a very serious column about his son being sick. He said that he remembered
carrying his son into the hospital, praying that God could take the fever out of his son’s body and put it into his own.
That’s exactly what its like. It makes a parent crazy when their child is sick or injured, and you don’t want anything else in the world except to make it stop. But you can’t.
Evening
Funny how some days just fly by. You probably won’t notice this until you get into school, but some days as a human just shoot right by. Others can take forever to get through.
I bought some new shoes today, and got a haircut. I took Rick to karate. He did well-his teacher said his forms were very much improved, even though he didn’t want to go. But I didn’t do anything fun, really. I’m listening to the Red Sox game on a satellite radio. Those may be common by the time you read this, but at this point they are still pretty new. I grew up in Boston, so I stayed a Red Sox fan when I moved down here.
I met Aunt Debbie when I answered an ad in the Letter Exchange, a magazine for people who liked to write letters. Aunt Debbie and I were simply mad about letter writing, so we started corresponding. The funny part about that is that your Aunt Debbie’s best friend, Jill Cyrus, who I am sure you will meet someday, shared a post office box with Aunt Debbie back then. They would take turns answering the letters that came to the box-Aunt Debbie would take one, and then Jill would take the next one. It turns out that, when my letter came, it was Jill’s turn to answer. Jill didn’t want to take the letter, so Aunt Debbie did instead. I still like to tease Jill that she could have married me instead of Debbie. But I’m glad she didn’t, because I might not have met Debbie, and I wouldn’t have had Rick.
That’s another thing that’s funny. Your Mom might tell you someday that she had other boyfriends before she met your Dad, and your Dad I’m sure had girlfriends before he met your Mom. But your Mom and Dad had to meet in order to make you-no other combination of people would work. Same with Rick-if I never met your Aunt Debbie, Rick would have never been born. Its a funny thing, life.
The Red Sox are losing, so far. You won’t be born until this whole baseball season has ended and the next one has begun. Football season hasn’t even begun yet, and you won’t be born until it is completely over, too. Maybe the Eagles will win the Super Bowl this year. I think that would make your Mom and Dad happy. They have gone to Eagles games before, but I don’t know if they still do that.
I don’t know a lot of things about your Mom and Dad. I love them, because they are in my family, and because they are good people. But I have never been very good at making friends or keeping friends-I tend to keep to myself a lot. That’s part of the reason why I don’t know them too well-sometimes when they come over I’m too busy to talk with them, or I’m at work while they are here. Stuff like that. I wish I knew how to get to know them better. I am hoping that when you are born, that will give us a reason to get together more so I can help take care of you.
I will write more tomorrow. I hope I will, anyway.
“I once believed in causes, too-
Had my pointless point of view-
But life went on no matter who was wrong or right.”
Billy Joel, “Angry Young Man”
August 9, 2006
Morning
Another day at Panera. I really can’t afford to keep eating here every morning, but the internet is free, and the food is good. And the quiet lets me write to you in peace.
I’m not sure why it is, but I suddenly see pregnant women everywhere. They say you just notice it more when someone you know is pregnant, but I don’t know about that. It sure seems like there are more lately. Of course, your Mom is one of them now. Although she’s not at the point where it is obvious to onlookers yet.
I’ve written five pages so far. My goal is to make this large enough so that I can have it printed in book form and give it to you when you’re born.
The Red Sox lost to the Royals last night, 6-4. I don’t know if you’re even going to like sports, but you might. It’s hard to really, really care about a sports team, because there is nothing you can do to change it. You just have to watch, and hope. That’s kind of like being a parent, in a small way. Watch, and hope.
I definitely plan to buy you some Red Sox stuff-baby clothes, and bottles, and all that stuff. You don’t have to like them, though, if you don’t want. I’ll even love you if you like the Yankees.
I just won’t understand you.
Your family is odd, make no mistake. I only really know about the Schuster side, and then again not even them very much-but we are an odd bunch. All families are, really. Your grandfather Adolph worked for a very long time at a very, very hard job, but he loves Rick very, very much. And I know he’ll love you just as much.
It’s so funny to be writing to you, when I don’t know if you’ll ever read it. Hopefully someday you will, and maybe it will make you feel good that, while you were busy growing fingers and toes and a liver and spleen, we adults were thinking about you and getting ready for your arrival.
I don’t want to forget about your Mom and Dad, though. One thing that people do when a baby is coming or has been born is they tend to focus so much on the baby they forget about the parents. Being a parent is really, really hard work, and I hope I can help your Mom and Dad remember that we care about them, too. Moms are more than just containers for babies. I think your Mom understands that.
It’s been a beautiful week, weather wise. A couple of weeks ago, (you were around, but I didn’t know about you yet. In fact, your Mom might not have known yet either.) it was really, really hot. It was 100 degrees for several days, and very, very humid. Not fun. But its much nicer now.
Weather is something you’re going to have to learn about, too. Weather, and avocados, and kangaroos, and taco shells, and curveballs, and bottled water, and sidewalks, and music and art and literature.
Your Aunt and your Grandmother make a big deal about the weather when it snows. It doesn’t bother me that much, possibly because I grew up in Massachusetts. It snows a lot more up there, and they do a better job plowing the roads. Down here, if we get 2 inches of snow, its a major crisis.
Someday, we’re going to teach you about snow, too.
This is going to be fun, I think.
Selections from a failed project, Letters to Young Mr. Simon William Cochoud, my new nephew, on this his second day on Earth.
August 7, 2006
Morning
Good morning.
I've been in a particularly foul mood lately, but there is a new Billy Joel live album I just bought, and I'm reading a Spider Robinson novel, so I may reach the ability to interact with other humans any minute now.
Album. Half the kids alive today never owned an album. You'll probably see albums, at your grandparents' house at least. But I'm pretty sure you'll never own one, or have occasion to play one. Is that how you spell it, occasion? The computer seems to think so.
I love Billy Joel's music, which will become apparent. The lyrics will pop up here from time to time, but the one that seems appropriate is,
"You can get what you want-
Or you can just get old."
-Billy Joel, "Vienna"
I'll write more. For the first time in a while, I have a lot to say.
I have to go to work soon. Again. You're going to work someday, too. Hopefully at something you don't hate. Don't make the mistake I did, of pursuing something that pays well just because it pays well. My advice would be to do something you love, then figure out who wants to pay you to do it.
Then again, my advice is not always the best. I wanted to draft Rick Mirer instead of Drew Bledsoe. I thought that Brian Rose couldn't miss. I thought that Chauncey Billups couldn't play. Stuff like that. I probably would have agreed that Pickett's Charge was a good idea.
Hard to imagine sometimes, that humans can just create life. We don't seem smart enough. Like we should have to take a test or something. Here's another good quote, from a series of books so good I get sad in the middle that they are going to end:
"Shared pain is lessened-
Shared joy is increased."
Spider Robinson, Callahan's Place series
That's a good place to stop as anywhere.
August 7, 2006
Evening
It’s time for bed. Right now I’m lying on the floor underneath your cousin Rick’s bed. Rick was the first baby your grandparents had, and he has always been the baby on this side of the family. Rick is probably going to be jealous of you for a while. Don’t worry about it. He’ll get over it. By the time you get to know Rick, he will be a teenager, so he’ll probably spend his time being mad at everyone anyway. But that will just make you all that much easier to love.
Rick is ten years old, but he still doesnt want to fall asleep by himself. I guess that’s because...well, I don’t know why it is. Really, it doesn’t matter why it is. He is what he is, and I am what I am. I am he as you are he as we are we and we are both together......
It’s also thundering outside, and I’m pretty sure Rick hates that, too. He whimpers every once in a while, but I can’t seem to convince him that the weather won’t hurt him. Someday, maybe I will have to teach you the same thing. Like I keep telling Rick, you, too, will be surrounded by adults that love you. That’s not a perfect system, but its as good as it is likely to get.
August 7, 2006
Morning
Good morning.
I've been in a particularly foul mood lately, but there is a new Billy Joel live album I just bought, and I'm reading a Spider Robinson novel, so I may reach the ability to interact with other humans any minute now.
Album. Half the kids alive today never owned an album. You'll probably see albums, at your grandparents' house at least. But I'm pretty sure you'll never own one, or have occasion to play one. Is that how you spell it, occasion? The computer seems to think so.
I love Billy Joel's music, which will become apparent. The lyrics will pop up here from time to time, but the one that seems appropriate is,
"You can get what you want-
Or you can just get old."
-Billy Joel, "Vienna"
I'll write more. For the first time in a while, I have a lot to say.
I have to go to work soon. Again. You're going to work someday, too. Hopefully at something you don't hate. Don't make the mistake I did, of pursuing something that pays well just because it pays well. My advice would be to do something you love, then figure out who wants to pay you to do it.
Then again, my advice is not always the best. I wanted to draft Rick Mirer instead of Drew Bledsoe. I thought that Brian Rose couldn't miss. I thought that Chauncey Billups couldn't play. Stuff like that. I probably would have agreed that Pickett's Charge was a good idea.
Hard to imagine sometimes, that humans can just create life. We don't seem smart enough. Like we should have to take a test or something. Here's another good quote, from a series of books so good I get sad in the middle that they are going to end:
"Shared pain is lessened-
Shared joy is increased."
Spider Robinson, Callahan's Place series
That's a good place to stop as anywhere.
August 7, 2006
Evening
It’s time for bed. Right now I’m lying on the floor underneath your cousin Rick’s bed. Rick was the first baby your grandparents had, and he has always been the baby on this side of the family. Rick is probably going to be jealous of you for a while. Don’t worry about it. He’ll get over it. By the time you get to know Rick, he will be a teenager, so he’ll probably spend his time being mad at everyone anyway. But that will just make you all that much easier to love.
Rick is ten years old, but he still doesnt want to fall asleep by himself. I guess that’s because...well, I don’t know why it is. Really, it doesn’t matter why it is. He is what he is, and I am what I am. I am he as you are he as we are we and we are both together......
It’s also thundering outside, and I’m pretty sure Rick hates that, too. He whimpers every once in a while, but I can’t seem to convince him that the weather won’t hurt him. Someday, maybe I will have to teach you the same thing. Like I keep telling Rick, you, too, will be surrounded by adults that love you. That’s not a perfect system, but its as good as it is likely to get.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
http://www.jibjab.com/what_we_call_the_news
Brilliant.
I guess it's a little elitist, but I'm completely sick of what passes for culture these days.
Brilliant.
I guess it's a little elitist, but I'm completely sick of what passes for culture these days.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
I wouldn't be a good baseball fan if I didn't make preseason picks:
AL EAST:Boston
AL CENTRAL:Cleveland
AL WEST:Oakland
AL WILD CARD:New York
NL EAST:New York
NL CENTRAL:Milwaukee
NL WEST:Arizona
NL WILD CARD: St. Louis
Playoffs:
Cleveland over New York
Boston over Oakland
Milwaukee over St. Louis
New York over Arizona
Boston over Cleveland
New York over Milwaukee
Boston over New York
AL EAST:Boston
AL CENTRAL:Cleveland
AL WEST:Oakland
AL WILD CARD:New York
NL EAST:New York
NL CENTRAL:Milwaukee
NL WEST:Arizona
NL WILD CARD: St. Louis
Playoffs:
Cleveland over New York
Boston over Oakland
Milwaukee over St. Louis
New York over Arizona
Boston over Cleveland
New York over Milwaukee
Boston over New York
Now reading "The Comedy Writer" by Peter Farrelly. It's OK. Probably wasn't worth buying. I like the New England flavor, but there's a distance to it-you don't completely fall for the character, the way you do in a really good story. Hugh Laurie's book was brilliant, and Confederacy of Dunces, which the blurb compares it to, was way better. My wife didn't like it either.
Now listening to the Marketplace podcast. Marketplace is a brilliant show, business news without being dull.
Now listening to the Marketplace podcast. Marketplace is a brilliant show, business news without being dull.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Friday, March 23, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)