Tag: family

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Halloween 2025

Missing every transfer

Me: Hola! We didn’t see you at the Halloween party tonight.
Neighbor: I know! We’re at [our daughter’s] friend’s house. Tradition is ending as kids are getting older.
Me: I get it, but it still bums me out!

For the first time in years, we didn’t go trick-or-treating with our neighbors this year…sorta.

See, we’re actually friends with multiple people and families in the building next door although the family we normally trick-or-treat with are our oldest ones.

In any case, we ended up going – me and the kid and the Firecracker and her kid – and had a grand time as usual.

It’s that whole, The more things change, the more things stay the same, kinda thing.

On that note, we’d not seen Alison’s parents in a while, and I’d also not seen my mom and sis in a while.

So, that Sunday, while the Firecracker ran some errands, the kid and I took the PATH to Hoboken and met up with my SIL where we hitched a ride with her to her parents.

There, we had a really quick lunch with them before my SIL drove us back to Hoboken so we could try and make a train to see my mom.

Him: We spent more time traveling than we did with grandma and grandpa!
Me: (thinking) Yup, that’s true. Four hours traveling but only 90 minutes with them.

We literally *just* missed the train. Crazy how one small change can have such drastic consequences.

Unfortunately, we missed the PATH train by just a couple of minutes but that set off a whole set of cascading consequences that ended up with the Firecracker waiting over two hours for us and my sister and mom, one.

See, because we missed the PATH train, we also missed the straight shot from Penn Station to my mom’s pad.

So, we rush to the subway and caught an N train to try and catch a quick transfer to a 7 train to transfer to another train to see my mom.

But the marathon, which was happening that day, messed alla that up as well.

We ended up missing pretty much every transfer and didn’t end up seeing my family until an hour later.

The Firecracker didn’t say a single word about our being two hours late for her.

Yet another reason why she rocks.

To make it up to her, I let my mom show her a TON of fat pics of me.

Me: You don’t know what a Chinese bowl cut is?
Her: Show me. (looks) It’s just a bowl cut, Logan. Just because you’re Chinese doesn’t make it a Chinese bowl cut. Is your toothbrush a Chinese toothbrush because you use it?
Me: I don’t think I like your tone right now.

Did I ever mention to you that she was a drummer for years?

Well, she also showed the kid and his cousins some of the basics of that.

It was a fun, if not completely exhausting, day.

In any case, because of daylight savings time, it felt like midnight when we got home but…

Me: I can’t believe it’s only 8:30PM.
Her: I know. I’m exhausted. I need a nap.
Me: Nap?! I was on eight trains and three cars today across two states. I’m going to bed.
Her: Aw, does my old man need to go to bed?
Me: OMG, yes.

Location: tonight, my local polling station, enjoying democracy…for now
Mood: exhausted
Music: you’re right where you’re supposed to be (Spotify)
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Hey, little guy

We love you so

We were all having dinner the other night when the kid asked me, “What happened the night I was born?”

I glitched.

I couldn’t really remember.

That’s not wholly unexpected because a lotta people experience difficulty recalling moments before a traumatic event causea stress hormones interfering with memory encoding.

And, just a few days after my kid was born, I got the worst possible news that I could ever imagine so if that’s not trauma, I dunno what is.

I walked up these stairs three days after Alison collapsed to stay with her. I’d gone home to shower, I think. Don’t really remember.

The thing is that this is part of why I take so many pictures.

Cause I know I’ll forget things if I don’t.

Unfortunately, there are three years of pictures that I almost never look at because they wreck me.

I took the least amount of pictures the year the kid was born because it was one tragedy after another – even before Alison got sick.

It’s why I stopped writing the blog during that time. It was all so sad.

And it only got worse.

Took a lot in 2017 for reasons I’ll tell you about someday, maybe.

For this entry, I looked back to see if there were any pictures I could use or memories it might jar but they were all horrible, so I bailed.

I literally have like four pictures that don’t make me wanna dry heave.

This is one of the few I have that don’t.

The kid is less than a week old in this. His mom had just been told she was sick. It was a shitshow. I don’t remember much of any of this, I’m just going by the timestamp.

Cancer is like the shitty gift that keeps on taking.

I’ve been thinking about my dad almost daily these days as well, for a buncha reasons that I’ll (also) probably tell you about onea these days.

I did remember one good thing, though.

Him: Well, do you remember what you first said to me?
Me: (nodding, smiling) Yeah, that I do. I said, “Hey, little guy. 爸爸媽媽好愛你. (Papa and mama love you so.)”

Location: another doctor’s office, being told my options
Mood: drenched
Music: thinking ’bout those days, these days (Spotify)
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Construction time again

We really don’t have them all that long

Me: I just realized something.
Her: What?
Me: The kid’s gonna be moving out in just seven more years. That seems so insanely quick.
Her: (nodding) Yeah. We really don’t have them all that long.
Me: OMG, I’m so bummed out suddenly…

Came across this article recently from the oldest practicing – 101 – doctor in America.

He said that he thinks the single most important thing that people can do to stay healthy throughout their lives is to keep moving, something I just said myself recently.

So, obviously, I agree with that.

But, between my friend who just got discharged from the hospital, to me with my crap back, I feel that, at some point, it’s just fighting against the tides.

Everything is about maintenance, I’m not really growing anymore. I’m just trying to deteriorate at a slower rate than most people my age.

Which I think I’m accomplishing.

I’m just shocked that more people aren’t doing everything they can to stave off the inevitable.

Me: It just seems crazy to me – do people not think it’s gonna happen to them?
Her: Getting older? I think they don’t really consider that working out or eating healthfully will really make all that much of a difference.
Me: That’s crazy.
Her: (shrugging) I honestly don’t think a lotta people realize it’s an option.

On that note, I look at the kid and realize that, unlike me, he’s improving every day.

He’s getting stronger and smarter and better each day, and I’m thrilled for him and for it. That’s how it should be.

I just wish he doesn’t have to deteriorate like all humans do.

Then again, that’s what it means to be human, I suppose.

Location: my kid’s bunkbed, looking for missing screws from all the construction around here that have vibrated them off
Mood: prickly
Music: Everything counts in large amounts (Spotify)
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More medical issues

A blessing nonetheless

A while back, my sister celebrated her birthday and gave the most lovely little nod to Alison, which I’ve always deeply appreciated.

She wrote something like, “People often complain about getting old. But after my sister-in-law passed at such a young age, I vowed I would never do that. It’s such a gift to get old and not everyone gets that chance.”

I think about that on the regular.

Getting old is a blessing.

A crappy blessing, but a blessing nonetheless.

Just found out that a dear and close friend of mine is in the hospital.

He’s an older fella but still very spry and active so it came as quite a shock.

Burst aneurysm.

It instantly brought me back to all those fucking nights in those goddamn hospitals – both for Alison and my dad.

But it looks like he’ll be ok, which I’m hoping is the case – we won’t know for sure for a few days.

That’s the thing about getting older: Even if you’re careful and lucky, you still spend far more time dealing with health issues than not.

On that note, I’ve been dealing with my own health issues. My herniated disc isn’t getting better – at all.

Doctor: The main issue is that your spinal canal is getting narrower.
Me: Is it because of my wrestling and fencing?
Him: (thinking) I don’t think so. If anything, your keeping active prevented this from being worse.
Me: What is it exactly?
Him: It’s the scoliosis I mentioned, and you have signs of deterioration and arthritis.
Me: Because I’m so active or…
Him: Oh no, just age. You’re 52 after all.
Me: So, I’ve been told.

To wit, after I went with the kid for over two hours to check out some middle schools today…

This pic is also not from today – they didn’t allow us to take pics.

…and after over a year of physical therapy and other things, I did the one thing left for me to do before surgery, which is a steroid injection into my spine.

Now, last week, I went to an office on the East Side twice to do alla the prep I needed to do and this afternoon, it was shot time.

I don’t have any pics from the procedure today – just forgot to take any.

But picture this: I’m lying face down on like a massage table with a cutout for my face in a FREEZING room with three young ladies.

I’m shirtless and my pants are pulled down most of the way with my rear end sticking up in the air.

Luckily for me, I have very little shame so, while it was odd and a bit disconcerting, it was ok for the most part.

Anywho, my chat with the doctor was pretty good too.

Him: So, when are you back from vacation?
Me: Oh, we’re not going for another month.
Him: Ah, good. So, I can see you in two weeks for a followup?
Me: Yup.
Him: OK. You know, I do all this small talk to distract you while we do the injection. And…done.
Me: Wait, you did it already?
Him: (laughing) Yup. Just keep lying there for a bit but you should be out the door in 10-15 minutes.

Considering how many medical procedures I’ve ever done or been part of, this was probably the best case scenario.

Afterwards, I was too beat to cook so I just took everyone out to eat at our fave neighborhood bistro.

Ende gut alles gut. / Alls well that ends well.

Whew.

What a day.

Location: a middle school, trying to figure out what to do
Mood: achy
Music: baby, don’t you think I’m looking older? (Spotify)
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Doing new things

What happens after

One of the things that I appreciate about having the kid is that he’s always trying something new, which means two things: (a) I get to see him do new things and (b) I often have to bring him places that I’ve not been before.

Case-in-point, the other day, there was a class that I thought he would like so I signed him up for it.

It was actually held near my old gym and a block from my kali class but in a building that I’d never been inside before. Turns out that it was a whole school of performing arts stuff.

Literally, within five minutes of us arriving, the kid was playing tag with a buncha kids he’d never met before (and they all knew each other).

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly he’s able to make friends.

Let’s hope that never stops.

Me: Walking to you now, five mins. Did you like it?
Him: No…
Me: Oh no! OK.
Him: Yea. Can we get Taco Bell, please?

Unfortunately, not alla my ideas are a hit, and this one was one of the duds.

I always give the kid props for trying new things; that’s the deal – he always has to try new things, but I won’t force them on him if he hates them.

And he hated this thing.

So, I bought back some goodwill with some fast-food Tex-Mex.

Speaking of duds, almost exactly nine years ago this week, a guy that I didn’t know at the time – he was a friend of Pac’s but he and I are friends now – drove me out to NJ to pick up a washer dryer for Alison to use as I assumed we’d constantly be cleaning clothing and bedsheets.

Ah, if only.

Well, that machine just gave up the ghost this past week.

My rule of thumb is that, if it costs more than 1/3 of the price to repair and it’s over seven years old, it’s probably worth it to buy a new one.

BUT, what I didn’t know when I got this one was that my basement can only fit a 24-inch machine and this one was 26 inches.

It was only with the help of Pac’s buddy, a couple of huge neighbors, a power drill, and just raw determination and anger that got this damn thing through the door.

So, I opted to call in a repairman who could fix it for roughly half the cost of a new one.

They’re ordering the part, which’ll take a bit to get so we won’t have a machine for a little longer.

Man an in-unit washer dryer in NYC is gold.

Me: Will it come with a warranty?
Him: (thick accent) One month.
Me: What happens after a month?
Him: (shrugging) No more warranty.
Me: (nodding slowly)

Location: home, not quite as sick. Still send soup.
Mood: foggy but not terrible
Music: Still runs good, built to last (Spotify)
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You really gotta stop posting pics of your kids

Telling our stories our way

One thing that we’ve been talking about over at Scenic Fights is the rise of AI and how you can take anyone’s likeness and make videos outta them, like this CBS reporter did:

It’s pretty impressive – and horrifying at the same time.

You can literally make anyone that you have pictures of, do anything.

Seriously, anything (I’ll let you fill in the blanks here).

On this note, you may have noticed that I don’t put up any pictures of my kid with his face showing.

I used to write his name in this blog, but I don’t even do that anymore – that’s the main reason I call him “the kid,” here.

As for why I did that, I’ve told you about before; which is that it’s not fair for me, as his parent, to take away his right to privacy/anonymity just because I can.

What if he doesn’t want to be known? What if he wants to write and tell his own story his way?

If I have years of posts about him complete with his face and everything, that will be all the more difficult.

But even in the back of my mind, I knew that technology would improve to the point where anyone could take a picture and animate it to make it appear that the picture person was doing something they never would.

In fact, that was the main subject of my lecture in Spain all those years ago.

The thing is, I never imagined that it would happen so quickly.

So, I’m doubly glad that I’ve not put up pictures of his face and will continue to do so – and I ask that you consider doing the same if you have kids.

If this whole #EpsteinFiles horror has taught us anything, it’s that there are some seriously messed up people out there.

Location: a bar, getting snockered
Mood: …snockered
Music: I’m diggin’ in, gettin’ ready for what comes (Spotify)
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Straight outta the blue

Rando drinks around the way

Me: Wait, did that place just say $8 cocktails?
Her: (looking) Yes?
Me: Let’s get ourselves an $8 cocktail!

The Firecracker and I were walking in the hood the other day, past a diner I’ve been to countless times across all these years.

Evidently, they just added a bar, and she and I were heading someplace to drink anywho.

So, we popped in.

Her: Holy cow, this is fresh squeezed orange juice. I’ve never had a Screwdriver with fresh squeezed orange juice.
Me: Really? Me neither – lemme try. (try a sip) Whoa, that’s amazing. Wild what you find in your hood.

But that was just a pit stop, because we really wanted to check out a bar that I’d been to a million times as well, except it had new owners, plus they completely revamped it.

Their fish and chips were pretty good, I gotta say.

Me: I think I’m still hungry.
Her: You’re always still hungry.
Me: Pizza?
Her: We just ate! Plus, I gotta get to [my kid].
Me: Invite him out for a slice of pizza!

Which is exactly what we did.

A few weekends after that, we all headed out to NJ to see my SIL and have the boys swim at her pool.

He’d spent the night at her pad to catch a soccer game – something he was pretty excited about, which explains the main pic of this entry.

In any case, the cab ride we rode there made us laugh.

Afterwards, my SIL drove us to the train station to head home, and we found ourselves in the middle of a street fair, so she dropped us off a touch earlier.

For better or worse, I realized after I stepped outta her whip that she dropped us off right in front of Alison’s old pad.

Wasn’t expecting that so it took my breath away for a moment.

In any case, we ended up walking through the street fair, and the kid walked straight into a concert.

On the one hand, it’s nice having alla these unexpected things that we randomly find at our familiar places, like we did with those drinks.

On the other hand, sometimes jarring to be reminded of a possible past, straight outta the blue.

Me: That was mommy’s old apartment.
Him: Which one?
Me: We walked past it already. It’s fine. I’ll show you someday.

Location: passed out from all the pain meds I’m on
Mood: groggy
Music: We’ll have drinks and talk about things (Spotify)
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Only when danger is far distant

Are you sure about that?

Took a knee to my eye and an elbow to my cheek the other day.

Fun times.

Her: You’re 52!
Me: I am not unaware.
Her: Are you sure about that, Logan!?

My SIL rang me up the other night because Alison’s mom was having a milestone birthday.

So, the next thing you know, the kid and I headed to her place to celebrate.

I spoke to her mom a while ago and she told me not to come for her birthday as it was too much trouble.

Me: You didn’t tell me it was [an important birthday]!
Her: I didn’t want to make a big deal.
Me: So, you wanna make me look like a jerk and not show up, lady?!
Her: (laughing) Thanks for coming.
Me: Of course!

My SIL brought some Italian cookies that I absolutely loved.

See, when I was a kid, my dad’s office was right next door to an Italian bakery.

Once in a blue moon, he’d bring home these exact cookies, and it was like the greatest day ever.

Man, I miss my dad.

Speaking of Italian things, we ended up just eating food from their local Italian joint.

I thought it was great but, evidently, I’m super easy because everyone else thought the food was only meh.

Me: I grew up super poor. This woulda been a feast for us.
Her: Well, we’re not eating the rest of it, so you can bring that home.
Me: Heck, yeah!

Speaking of when I was young, I read Machiavelli’s The Prince way back in 1996 when 2Pac released his like last album under that name (it was his only album I truly disliked).

I remembered the below quote from The Prince and was reminded of it recently what with everything going on in the news these days.

In general men are ungrateful, fickle, false, cowardly, covetous, dissimulating, hungry for profit and quick to evade danger. As long as you succeed and do them good, they are devoted to you entirely; they will offer you their blood, property, life and children… but only when danger is far distant; when danger approaches they turn against you.

Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince, Ch. XVII

It’s funny how universal some things about humanity are and how they transcend both time and place.

I’m truly interested – and somewhat apprehensive – about what life will be like here in the US in a decade’s time.

Location: a lobster shop, buying a lobster roll
Mood: vexed
Music: The feds surely hope that they could finally nail me (Spotify)
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Mr. Lo and the Rats from NIMH

Friends are the receipt we have for a good life

Him: Can I watch something?
Me: Can you read instead?
Him: Do I have to?

If there’s anything that’s a source of friction between the kid and me, it’s reading.

As someone that grew up with a total of five channels – ABC, NBC, CBS, PBS, Channel 55 (which is an in itself entry one of these days) – and zero friends, books were my primary source of entertainment.

So, I don’t understand how my child is so adverse to reading.

Fair use

One book that I think about quite a bit, even now, was a book called Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH.

It’s a kid’s book but, roughly, the story goes like this:

Mrs. Frisby was a mouse married to a mouse named Jonathan, who was killed. Alone with just her son, Mrs. Frisby discovered that her house was about to be destroyed and needed to be moved, but this was impossible because her son Timothy was sick.

So, she pled with an owl, who refused to help her. Until the owl discovered that she was Jonathan’s widow. Then he helped her. And told her to find the rats of NIHM because they too knew Jonathan would help. They would help because she was his widow, and Timothy was his son.

You see, it turns out that Jonathan was one of only two mice that were left from NIHM. Because of the experiments there, they both had exceptionally heightened intelligence. Because Jonathan used that intelligence to help the rats there escape, the rats always felt in his debt.

Now, when Jonathan met Mrs. Frisby, he hid all this from her. Because he didn’t want her to think any differently of him. He just wanted a normal and quiet life with her.

Man, do I get that.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Anywho, as the story went on, Mrs. Frisby discovered that her husband had this entire crazy life before her and that people loved and respected him.

He gave up everything to just have a quiet life with her but the kindness that he gave to others lived on, long after the relationships faded.

The funny thing is that I always thought that I’d die before Alison. But I often thought of this story while she was pregnant and thought, If anything ever happened to me, I’m going leave her and the kid a crapton of good friends that will make sure the two of them are ok.

Unfortunately, as fate would have it, she died before me.

But I’m still amazed at all the friends I’ve collected throughout these years did exactly what I expected them to do – be there for the kid.

Like, just this morning, I was in Brooklyn picking up three (more) huge bags of clothes that my old college buddy Cappy and his wife saved for the kid.

I think that friends are the receipt you have that you lived a good life.

Alison’s friends have also helped us through these times, good and bad – like the ABFF and my SIL.

So, I’m grateful that we’ve both lived lives where we both collected brilliant and good people along the way, because, man, did we need them.

Me: Dude, just read a book. If it’s a good book, it’ll be just as good, if not better, than anything you see on TV.
Him: (resigned) Fine, papa. I’ll read…
Me: (laughing) It’s not a punishment, kid.

A lotta people don’t realize that NIMH was a real place.

It was.

It was short for the National Institute of Mental Health and the kicker was that it focused on mental health.

For someone struggling with insomnia and depression, the irony is unexpectedly deep.

Location: Earlier today, near Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn
Mood: grateful
Music: Don’t take what’s not theirs, they don’t compare (Spotify)
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Our usual schedule

A good start

Me: What do you think?
Him: Logan, you’ve had some stupid ideas before, but this has got to be the worst one yet.
Me: (laughing) Wait, what about…
Him: (holding up hand) Nope. I’m stupider now having heard your plan than I was just before hearing it.

Been chatting with Rain on the regular again.

He’s living in the country right now and has, essentially, become a farmer.

Hell hath frozen over.

But that’s his story to tell, not mine, so I’ll stop here.

Now that the kid’s back, we’re easing back into our usual schedule.

We were supposed to meet up with my college friends for a picnic at Governors Island but ended up not going because it was gonna rain.

We were gonna just have a quiet day at home, but then the ABFF asked if we wanted to get dinner so we did that instead…

…and then ended up by her pad to play some cards.

The Firecracker introduced everyone to Big Two, which I found amusing.

On the topic of games of chance, we also tried our hand in winning Powerball.

I’m sad to say, we are not billionaires.

It’s probably for the best.

Another friend: Let’s say you did win, what would you do?
Me: First thing is upgrade alla my friends to people way too good for me.
Him: (laughing) All of us?
Me: If I won a billion dollars, you’re all dead to me.

The next day, the kid went to a bday party and then a playground afterward.

I think it’s interesting how I both (a) have a normal now and (b) it’s a new normal, so different than when it was just Alison and me.

It’s not – at all – what I thought my life would be but, I’m grateful I have it.

Me: How was your first day of school?
Him: Good!
Me: Do you like your teacher?
Him: Yes, she’s so nice!
Me: (smiling) Great! It’s a good start to the year, then.

Location: home, cutting a box to make it a shipping cost go from $76 to $24
Mood: committed
Music: No, I don’t want it to stop (Spotify)
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