10/14

i am watching my son dance, clap and try to climb on the couch. a man is made by risk and his reaction to them. why without risking he never would have discovered the joy of turning the television on, the dishwasher on or the vast amount of other things he can do.
he loves to dance, and read books.
i am watching this while taking in morning television, which is filled with a collection of preening schmoes and bone thin tarts. even during the worst of news they can maintain a dour face for so long before the smile returns. is there the director in their ear screaming for more effervescence? public option down the toilet as a personal story of health care causing bankruptcy runs they are back smiling, preening and moving on.
from health care to some old geezer's horrible looking face staring dumbly as the show celebrates the person's 100th birthday. i am not getting to 100 i will tell you that. i am certain, at some point life will just get too tiresome.
who wants to lump around in a motor chair wearing a diaper and talking of the 'good old days' or nosing about the new generations life? not i. if i find myself in one of those chairs it will be driven off the first cliff.
i have always been fond of the viking funeral. how glorious to be lit on fire and sent down the columbia as archers shoot arrows. though, more than likely, i will be stuffed in some hole in the ground and as everyone walks away somebody will stub their toe and curse under their breath. that at somebody's house they will all get drunk and slowly the tide turns and the great book of complaints will open up.
'that s o b only thought of himself, maybe i wanted to be on top one time.'
or
'you couldn't just follow directions, could you? i wrote down super speed bmx and you get a huffy? what kind of monster get's you almost what you want? so you have to smile and dance about though in your heart your screaming at the bastard. you know as a kid you can't return those gifts. how are you going to return the bike? you have to ride it there! though they were the same price and you subtly ask, 'this bike is wonderful, but were they sold out of the super bmx?' to which he would reply, 'no'. never an explanation.'
to which they chime in
'if you asked for whole milk with the yellow front, he would get the whole milk with the green front and say 'that was what was in the fridge', never mind that i have told him a thousand times, if once that i switch the milk every week so that we don't have to spend so much. by god asking him to think about a budget you might as well ask him to land on the moon.'
with the other one saying
'maybe, just once i would have liked to sit on the porch, but no everytime we had a free day we were always moving always going to some place, a museum or garage sale or water front. some days you just need to laze and recharge your batteries. and don't get me started on the idea of school and grades...'
so you can't win.
there is a great joy in family but it comes with the price of living with your judge and jury. every word studied every move watched, charted. nothing goes unnoticed.
we live in a time with cameras. cameras everywhere. every thing is recorded every body is photographed like a movie star and they are their own paparazzi. we have fifteen sites to record how we are feeling or what we are doing and spend so much time recording we have no time to create. but isn't that what this is?
my son dances and laughs and the morning son breaks through fall clouds. there is rain coming, i have a whole in my pocket that is leaking time, talent and energy until all that will be left is grandpa the reflection machine, grandpa the baby bouncer, and it sounds wonderful. as i watch my son laugh and dance and grow i am excited for him. as i watch my daughter coo, cry and woggle i am excited for her. no matter the advances everybody has childhood memories that seem old fashioned when reflected upon.
as our family grows, i hope to find time so that we maybe a tree that feeds instead of a parasite that just eats. i hope when we preen and schmuck about our facebook pages some of it will be dedicated to recording a few charitable acts.
secretly i hope that at my wake, when they complain it will for having been pushed to acts of charity so that when they complain everybody will whisper under their breaths, 'wow what a collection of ungrateful monsters.'
my wife folds, my son watches, my daughter sleeps and i record as time leaks out under the doorway or through the cracks in the floor.