There are sounds in the world that remind me of colors, smells and a certain time
A innocent crime
The plane engine whine, the transformer explosion followed by sirens
The watching of Star Trek followed by silence
I smell oil, metal and burning dandelion petals
Radio chatter as the firemen worked with the slapping of water upon burning car
The scent of tar
The laughter of friends as we played with a spot that's a sick color of grey over the grass which it lay
What is PCB? I had never heard that before
Maybe its okay because the the adults will ignore
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Friday, October 25, 2013
Raising a Man
About a year ago I wrote an entry called "The Gift of a Father" (http://foginmythroat.blogspot.com/2012/01/gift-of-father.html). I revisited that today to remind myself that I still want to be a father...maybe.
I know that in order for my son to become a man he has to tear down the image of his father. I get that. I did it too. I was a youthful rebel once upon a time and when I think back on the things I did, I feel sad. I was self destructive and hurt others, especially my father. I don't wish that for my son. I never had the opportunity to show my father that I became a man because he died before it happened. His death was one of many experiences that paved the road to manhood. I would have rather walked hand and hand down that road with my father to make him proud, to make things right, to hold him one last time. I need to make things right with my son.
Dear Max,
Its been said that a man does not truly become a man until his father dies. Well son, I'm here to tell you it doesn't have to be that way. You can become a man with me still around, alive and kicking. You and I have similarities (both of us are extremely handsome and smart) but we are not the same. You are not going to end up being like me, so you can sigh in relief. I don't need the competition and if that were the case I hope you are the better man. First of all your name is Max, mine is Steve. Second, I'm already a man and you will become one. Of course your mom would argue the fact that I'm a man when I laugh at fart noises, but I can assure you I am (There is another saying which states a man is not a man unless he's a boy at heart ). Anyway, in addition to being a man, I'm a father.
I'm your father and you are my son. We are not peers nor friends, yet our relationship runs deeper than any other you will ever know. We can be friendly and enjoy each others company. We can be playful with one another, yet we are not equals and I can imagine that's hard to hear. We are only equal in the sense of human rights. We both deserve to be respected , heard and have a place in this world.
As your father I will give you the space you need to become your own man and as my son you will take out the garbage. I will respect your privacy and you will clean up after yourself. I will not yell at you and you will not yell at me. I will not physically harm you and you will not physically harm me. I will not break your things and you will not break mine. I am responsible for your healthcare, shelter, food, clothing and you will be responsible for your actions. I will provide you with privileges that can be earned and taken away as I see fit and you can test me to find out if I'm full of shit. I will take responsibility for my poor choice of humor and you can roll your eyes. I will provide you with learning opportunities in the form of chores that will help you be self sufficient and prepare you for the day when you eventually move out and are on your own ( you have about 4 years, so make good use of your opportunities. I'm not kidding). In the mean time I will make myself available to listen to how you feel and have discussions and you can share with me. I like it when you share with me. I am unable to read your mind and guess how you feel and it's crazy to expect me to. I will welcome you into my arms if you want a hug and I need not ask why. I will not shame you when you make a mistake and you will not shame yourself. I will not pretend to be something I'm not and you will have self respect. I will not put myself upon a pedestal and you will not tear me down.
I am only a man, a man not unfamiliar to the one you will become. A man that feels, bleeds, breathes and dies. A man in pursuit of happiness, a man I will be proud to have as my friend, my equal.
I Love You,
Dad
I know that in order for my son to become a man he has to tear down the image of his father. I get that. I did it too. I was a youthful rebel once upon a time and when I think back on the things I did, I feel sad. I was self destructive and hurt others, especially my father. I don't wish that for my son. I never had the opportunity to show my father that I became a man because he died before it happened. His death was one of many experiences that paved the road to manhood. I would have rather walked hand and hand down that road with my father to make him proud, to make things right, to hold him one last time. I need to make things right with my son.
Dear Max,
Its been said that a man does not truly become a man until his father dies. Well son, I'm here to tell you it doesn't have to be that way. You can become a man with me still around, alive and kicking. You and I have similarities (both of us are extremely handsome and smart) but we are not the same. You are not going to end up being like me, so you can sigh in relief. I don't need the competition and if that were the case I hope you are the better man. First of all your name is Max, mine is Steve. Second, I'm already a man and you will become one. Of course your mom would argue the fact that I'm a man when I laugh at fart noises, but I can assure you I am (There is another saying which states a man is not a man unless he's a boy at heart ). Anyway, in addition to being a man, I'm a father.
I'm your father and you are my son. We are not peers nor friends, yet our relationship runs deeper than any other you will ever know. We can be friendly and enjoy each others company. We can be playful with one another, yet we are not equals and I can imagine that's hard to hear. We are only equal in the sense of human rights. We both deserve to be respected , heard and have a place in this world.
As your father I will give you the space you need to become your own man and as my son you will take out the garbage. I will respect your privacy and you will clean up after yourself. I will not yell at you and you will not yell at me. I will not physically harm you and you will not physically harm me. I will not break your things and you will not break mine. I am responsible for your healthcare, shelter, food, clothing and you will be responsible for your actions. I will provide you with privileges that can be earned and taken away as I see fit and you can test me to find out if I'm full of shit. I will take responsibility for my poor choice of humor and you can roll your eyes. I will provide you with learning opportunities in the form of chores that will help you be self sufficient and prepare you for the day when you eventually move out and are on your own ( you have about 4 years, so make good use of your opportunities. I'm not kidding). In the mean time I will make myself available to listen to how you feel and have discussions and you can share with me. I like it when you share with me. I am unable to read your mind and guess how you feel and it's crazy to expect me to. I will welcome you into my arms if you want a hug and I need not ask why. I will not shame you when you make a mistake and you will not shame yourself. I will not pretend to be something I'm not and you will have self respect. I will not put myself upon a pedestal and you will not tear me down.
I am only a man, a man not unfamiliar to the one you will become. A man that feels, bleeds, breathes and dies. A man in pursuit of happiness, a man I will be proud to have as my friend, my equal.
I Love You,
Dad
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
The Stoke Factor
Shivering cold while mumblings of sparseness are sent in. A change is coming. I watch the feathering mist blow hard off the wind... an offshore wind. The wavelength runs deep today and the escaping water from shore is pummeled into foam. There's an eerie fog and thunder. I'm small as is everything in their presence, but I paddle like a giant, then stand like one. I've been told so. I know so as I'm thrust down its vertical surface. I am speed, motion, grace and stoked!
Sunday, October 20, 2013
The Sea
There's a place in the world for those who are only lonely around people. A place where the surface moves to its truth, its moods. It is not kind nor mean and its edges are motion. This place is colorful yet colorless and full of light and life even in its abyss and darkness. It is a soulful and soulless place that is in balance when it staggers. It is a universe upon which time machines float and sink. You and I know this place yet we know nothing at all. Those who know are lost at sea.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Methhead
"I don't know what the back of my head looks like!"
That is a statement I heard from one of my patients from the ED. Granted, she was not in a "normal" mental state and seemed quite anxious at the time for reasons I believe had to do with methamphetamines. This patient was very obsessed with the fact that she could not see the back of her head, as she kept repeating this over and over to the point where I responded ,"Its okay. The back of your head doesn't know what the front of your head looks like either." It was at this time she stopped with her incessant obsession, shut up and looked at me as a calm silence filled the room, and stated, " I got eyes on the back of my head, I got eyes on the back of my head, I got eyes on the back of my head..."
That is a statement I heard from one of my patients from the ED. Granted, she was not in a "normal" mental state and seemed quite anxious at the time for reasons I believe had to do with methamphetamines. This patient was very obsessed with the fact that she could not see the back of her head, as she kept repeating this over and over to the point where I responded ,"Its okay. The back of your head doesn't know what the front of your head looks like either." It was at this time she stopped with her incessant obsession, shut up and looked at me as a calm silence filled the room, and stated, " I got eyes on the back of my head, I got eyes on the back of my head, I got eyes on the back of my head..."
Thursday, October 17, 2013
The God Inside
Will you let them kill the God inside you today?
The God who speaks for you, the one you forgot to worship and feed.
Are you going to stand by and watch the killing?
How will you fill the space left behind?
There is no other (divine) to find.
There's only you now, all alone, vacuumed out and crumbling
A bowl of nothing held together like ash ready for direction from the harsh wind of others
Blown apart
A vessel no more
Or...
The God who speaks for you, the one you forgot to worship and feed.
Are you going to stand by and watch the killing?
How will you fill the space left behind?
There is no other (divine) to find.
There's only you now, all alone, vacuumed out and crumbling
A bowl of nothing held together like ash ready for direction from the harsh wind of others
Blown apart
A vessel no more
Or...
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