Him: But it fits! Me: Kinda. You’re definitely Brittney Spearsing it here.
Clothes that I just bought for the kid last year are already not fitting him.
I remember that, as a kid, I loved this yellow shirt with a red V on it. Wore it until my bellybutton was constantly out, all Britney Spears like.
Think my parents were just happy that I didn’t ask for new clothes, but I always think that Alison woulda wanted him to be put together so I try my best.
My best being a sliding scale.
(c) Getty Images
Him: Why don’t you ever show my face? Me: Because I don’t have that right. At least, I shouldn’t have that right.
Been enjoying my new gym – it’s interesting rolling with people from a completely new gym because no one knows my game and I know no one else’s game, so each roll feels very different than at my old gym.
Recently rolled with a very talented but smaller female. While I could have easily beat her, that wasn’t why I was there; I was there to get better.
Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.
In a way, that’s why I don’t put up pictures of my kid where you can clearly see his face.
See, I grew up in a time where you could grow up in relative anonymity.
Never realized what a gift that was until YouTube because – MAN – did I do some jaw-droppingly bone-headed things when I was younger.
Legit, thank god everyone didn’t walk around with a video camera because I would most likely be hated by the world writ large.
In that sense, I feel that it’s not fair or right that I – as someone much bigger and much older than my kid – have the right to take away my son’s chance to be anonymous.
Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.
He’s a little kid right now but little kids grow up to be adults.
When he is one, he might resent not being able to tell his own story his own way.
If you think about it, the thing that probably pisses you off the most is when someone else tells your story.
Janet? She’s such a slut. Did you hear last Friday, she…
Tom? He’s a loser. When we were kids…
That guy? Lemme tell you about him…
But I have to balance that with the fact that I’m proud of him – so proud of him – and what he can do so I wanna show him off.
And that’s really what it is with parents, isn’t it?
They want to show their kids off, not for their kids sake, but for their own. And that’s not right, I don’t think.
Just because they can, doesn’t mean they should.
So, my concession is that I blur or hide his face and name so that when/if he does want to have a public face/name, that’s his choice to make when he’s old enough to make that choice.
For now, I realize that, just because I could put up anything I want about him, I shouldn’t.
Me: One day, you’ll be old enough to decide who you are and how you want the world to see you. You and your friends are gonna be some of the first kids on the planet that’s lost that right to be a nobody. Him: (thinking) What if I wanna be someone? Me: That’s your choice to make. I’ve lived my life. I don’t have the right to live your life as well. You get to decide who and what you want to be. (pause) For what it’s worth, you’re always someone to me. You’re my most important someone.
Location: a pier with four lovely ladies – including the Firecracker – the boy, and a bottle of white
Mood: so. full.
Music: I just wanna be someone. Well, doesn’t everyone? (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
This time, everyone came with their significant others, which was nice.
We all chatted about the earthquake and the eclipse…
…amongst other things.
Him: Logan always has some random fact. Me: This is true. Did you know that, when I was a kid, Cap’n Crunch gave away a plastic whistle that oscillated at exactly 2,600Hz, which was the exact frequency of NYC payphones so that if you blew one before a call, you could make free calls anywhere in the world? [ED: I misspoke, it was the frequency for all AT&T phones, not just NYC, because they ran a monopoly on pay phones across the country]. Her: How do you remember all this stuff? Me: (shrugging) I don’t get out much.
As that article I linked above notes, Apple – and the iPhone you’re most likely reading this upon – would not have existed but for the existence of that whistle.
I love these kinda significant but often unknown stories.
In any case, the dinner, and the conversation, was great, as usual.
The NFL Player and his wife went to Africa and showed us pics. It was all pretty cool.
The people sitting in the table next to us were also having a birthday celebration, so there were lots of rounds of, “Happy Birthday.”
Like I said before, there are worse ways to turn 51.
I was in my local supermarket when I ran into one of the cashiers, Lucy, in the produce section.
Her: (walking up to me holding a cup of coffee and put it down) I understand now. About your wife. My…my husband died. Me: What?! Good god, I’m so sorry. Her: (nodding) He was sick for a while. I thought he would be ok but…he didn’t let me know how bad it was. Me: (putting down groceries and giving her a hug) I’m so sorry. We’re never ready, are we? Her: (shaking head) No. I didn’t think he would go.
I went home, got a red envelope, stuffed a few bucks into it and went back to give it to her.
Her: No, no, I’m fine, really. Me: (gently) I’m sure you’re fine. This is just for lunch. Make sure you eat, ok? Her: (taking it) OK. Thank you. Me: I wanna tell you that it’ll be ok. It won’t be. But you have to keep telling yourself that it will be. After a while, it’ll be kinda ok.
The rest is her story to tell but I was in my own head for a while after that.
Then, I was walking with the kid and he turned to me said the most profound thing:
Flowers may bloom again, but a person never has the chance to be young again.
Assume he learned it in Chinese class (花有重开日，人无再少年) because he certainly never learned it from me.
But then…
Him: Flowers come back. Why can’t mommy come back? Me: I dunno. I dunno. Him: I wish she would come back. Just once. Just for a day, even. (trailing off). She can’t come back, not even for one day? Just one day? Me: Man, if only, kid. If only…
My kid’s a lot more mature than other kids his age. Sometimes, I think of him like he’s a little man.
Dunno if this is a good thing or not. I’m thinking not.
Wish he was just a kid without alla this weight on him.
It’s too much weight for a little kid like him to carry.
Don’t want a little man. Not yet.
Just want him to be a little kid for a little bit longer.
Location: On West End Avenue, finding myself at a loss for words
Mood: contemplative
Music: been gone far too long (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Her: He’s telling me to not fight and he’ll promise to give me the apartment. Me: He broke the trust covenant where he stood in front of alla your friends and said he’d love you until one of you were dead. You’re both alive, which makes him a liar. Her: So, what do I do? Me: When someone breaks the trust covenant, you can never trust anything he or she says. What should you do? Stop trusting him first. Everything else comes second.
That’s pretty much alla her story that I feel comfortable telling you since it’s her story to tell.
So, I’ll end that part here.
When all is said and done, the price of love is heartache.
While grief and loss with horror and death is generally worse, loss is still loss and grief is still grief.
Ergo, I do understand that she struggles, even though her loss is very different from mine.
In Sherlock, Mycroft Holmes says something to his younger brother Sherlock who, compared to Mycroft, is the more emotional of the two.
Mycroft said, All lives end; all hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage.
Often think that Mycroft’s not wrong. There’s no advantage in caring about people, in fact, it’s a disadvantage to care.
And yet, we’re all programmed to do so.
Sometimes I think it’s a glitch in our programming and other times, I don’t.
Just wish that, sometimes, I didn’t feel all the things I do as deeply as I do.
But this is the price to be human so I pay it, hoping that I can afford it for as long as I can.
Her: (wiping her eyes) I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry. Me: Don’t apologize for your genuine emotion. I’m always just a bad memory from crying myself.
Location: a playground with the Steeles and the Firecracker, eating 20 cheeseburgers and having a diet coke
Mood: pensive
Music: Is this something I should be letting go? (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
An old friend of mine reached out to me the other day.
Her: I thought of you. I thought, “If Logan could survive everything he survived, I can survive this.” Me: (nodding) You totally can. Even when we don’t wanna survive things, we do. We’re meant to struggle and scuffle until we’re breathless and weak. Her: (sadly) I trusted him. I can’t believe that he did this. I keep wondering if I… Me: You didn’t do anything wrong. This is a him problem, not a you problem. Her: But…he’s my life. Me: You lived a solid 32 years without knowing he existed. How could someone you’ve known seven outta 38 years be your entire life? Her: (sighing) You’re right. I know you’re right. (laughing) When did you get so smart? Me: Sometime in the mid-90s I think. Her: It still amazes us that you’re still here. Me: It amazes me too. Somehow, I’ve learned to eat shadows and shit rainbows. Her: (laughs, takes a deep breath, then sighs)
Location: looking for a Level 4 ballistic plate in a playground
Mood: irritated
Music: Running from your bad decisions (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Of course, we’re not the only people with an active social life.
Almost exactly three years ago, my son was spending alla his time with this older girl named Annie that told him one day that she didn’t want to play with him any more.
Of course, I was worried about him.
Me: Are you ok that Annie didn’t want to play with you? Him: (nodding) I’ll meet someone else. (later) This is Sandy, papa, she lives on West 74th. Me: (laughing) Hello Sandy who lives on West 74th. Why don’t you two play and I’ll watch your scooters?
Welp, Sandy turned nine the other day and, just like last year, celebrated at Chelsea Piers.
Think it’s sweet that the two have remained friends all these years, even though they don’t have many friends in common and go to different schools.
Then again, perhaps he’ll always be this socially ok and will always be able to meet new people while keeping old friends.
Ended up chatting with several people I’ve met before at other events.
Friend: I feel bad because I’m eating all the kids’ food. Me: Wait, there’s more food? Him: Yeah, over there. (points) That’s for the adults. Me: I say we stick here and eat the kids’ food. It’s better. Him: (laughs, nods) Me: But the drinks are definitely adult.
Sandy’s uncle had to run back to our hood to pick up some forgotten goodies for the other kiddos so I offered to go with him.
Now, Sandy’s mom teased that I shoulda brought the Firecracker.
Me: I didn’t wanna impose. Her: I put you down party of four to include her and her kid! You should have brought her. Me: Clearly, I don’t pay attention to stuff.
So, I asked the Firecracker if she could stop by their building and grab the stuff from their doormen and she did.
Before we knew it, we were all hanging out at Chelsea Piers.
When I came back, I searched for my son and someone laughed and pointed at the floor of one of the bowling lanes.
In the middle of all the cacophony was my son, sitting in the middle of everything, eating some cake.
That’s my boy.
Him: Where were you?! Me: I had to help Sandy’s family with something. Him: You didn’t tell me. Me: I figured you were in good hands and wouldn’t even notice that I left for a few minutes. Him: Next time, you have to tell me when you leave. Me: Will do, kiddo.
After more of the guy mouthing off, the kid started crying.
Me: Stop crying. Him: What if you get hurt? Me: I told you before, we don’t ever start fights. But if someone else wants to fight, sometimes we gotta. You can’t just let people hurt you without trying to protect yourself.
As we got off, this older lady took my hand.
Her: Be careful. I know people like that. You could get hurt. Me: Thanks, ma’am. But I think I’ll be ok. Her: You never know. Me: (laughing) Yeah. You never know. One of us will have a bad day. But I don’t think it’ll be me.
Of course, the guy disappeared.
Like I said, everyone’s a tough guy until it’s time to actually be tough.
But the Firecracker and I were out to eat the other night for St. Valentine’s Day and she told me that she and the kid talked after the whole thing.
The kid: I was so mad at him for almost getting in a fight. I already don’t have a mom and he coulda made it so I don’t have a dad. Her: Do you think your papa would do anything to put himself at risk? Him: Well, it was stupid. All over some dumb guy. It was all so dumb. Her: You dad loves you. He’s gonna make sure he’s around a long time.
Felt awful.
Her: (later with just me) You know, it’s not just you anymore. You’ve got to think about him. Me: I think about him alla time. (thinking) But you’re right. Her: It’s done. Just remember that he needs you here. Me: Will do.
The irony of the whole thing is that I so rarely get into these types of situations on my own. I always tell people to walk away from rando confrontations.
Still, when it involves the kid (or the Firecracker) I get overly protective, I suppose.
My trip to Austria highlighted the fact that my life is very different now than when I was younger.
For one, the only real luggage I have is not one, but two garment bags – the first being the red one I brought all over the world for close to the past 30 years.
Still works great, btw.
The second is in the form of a shoulder bag.
The reason both are garment bags is because, in my youth, couldn’t imagine a scenario where I wouldn’t need a suit, or at least a nice dress shirt, when I traveled.
This time around, I had nonea those things and the rolling garment bag left a lot to be desired.
The Firecracker’s stuff didn’t fit it all that great and there was a lotta wasted space because of how it’s configured.
So, I started looking for luggage.
Jesus christ, are there a lotta options out there.
To narrow things down, I started only looking at luggage that had “YKK” zippers on them because that’s an indicator of quality to me.
What I noticed was that they were, by-and-large, about 20-30% more than luggage that didn’t have – or didn’t state that they had – YKK zippers.
This just supported my decision to buy one from that group because of another saying I like:
How do you do anything is how you do everything.
In other words, if a company cares enough to spend the extra money to use YKK zippers in their luggage, they probably care enough to do other things right and more thoughtfully.
Obviously, like all sayings, there are exceptions to it but it’s generally true, for the most part.
Been telling the kid things like this now that he’s getting older and can understand such things.
And this particular saying is pretty applicable to him because of his personality.
On the positive side, the kid is relentlessly upbeat and excitable.
On the negative side, because of his joie de vivre, he tends to rush at things and not really focus when he needs to.
So, I’ve been trying to tell him to slow down, which is hard for a kid like him.
It’s a work in progress.
Him: Done! Me: That was fast. Lemme see…OK, well, you got every single thing wrong here. Him: What?! I added up everything and checked my answer. Me: Yes, I see that. Your math is right, but the instructions said round your answer to the nearest 10. You didn’t do that. So, yes, you got all the *math* right in all eight of them, but you got the *answers* wrong in all eight of them. Him: That’s not fair! Me: Listen carefully, kid: Life’s not fair. Accept that and your life will be better than most people. Now, slow down. Notice things. If you do that, you’ll be different from most of the world. Him: What if I don’t wanna be different? Me: Look, if you’re different, you can be irreplaceable. And if you’re irreplaceable…your life will be better still. And that’s all I want for you. Slow down.
Location: 18th Street, getting floored because of my dislocated toe
Mood: ouchie
Music: Yeah, I want that red velvet (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
At least since 2019, I’ve been averaging about 97.3 degrees but lately, I’ve been drifting even lower – above is what it was this morning.
There seems to be two major theories for this:
People are larger now, which generally results in lower body temperature, and/or
People are just less chronically inflamed.
Can’t speak for the world-at-large but I gotta think that my lower temps are because I’ve lowered my overall inflammation since I wasn’t super big to begin with.
When Alison first got sick, I did a baseline reading for myself and found that I was consistently around 97.9 degrees but, since her illness, I spent a good amount of time and energy trying to reduce my inflammation overall, resulting in temps I wrote above.
This past week, I’ve been ridonk sick with some weird cold. Mainly fatigue and coughing but my temps maxed out at 99.6 degrees.
But the question is is, if I’m a full degree lower than normal, is a fever now something above 99.4 degrees?
In any case, I’m better today; the last four days were spent in bed but today I felt well enough to cook for the kid – the Firecracker spent most of the week cooking for him.
As the years go on, more and more people ask me how I stay so young looking.
Obviously, genetics have a lot to do with it. So does the fact that I’ve been on a diet for 36+ years.
But, in terms of recent changes I’ve made, that’s all been focused on my reducing my systemic inflammation to try and combat cancer.
The unexpected benefit is that I think I’m literally slowing down my aging even more.
In any case, reducing my inflammation means:
Taking a shit-ton of turmeric, with a dash of oil and black pepper, on a daily basis.
Taking some spirulina for additional protein as well as for its anti-inflammatory benefits.
Just like my computer shutting down when it overheated, I think that people don’t realize just how damaging being inflamed – thus, over-heated – is for their overall health.
These are the kinda things I think about when I’m sick.
Her: How’s the patient? Me: Blargh. Her: Are you resting? No computer fiddling? Me: There might be some fiddling going on.
