How to do It
Read the book with the kiddo and tell him to read along with you. A little encouragement goes a long way: I play guitar and sing for Sam when he goes to sleep, after we read stroies. When i told Sam he could sing along with me if he liked, I found it was a little harder to get him to sleep, because he sang along and that kept him awake. He knew the songs in his mind.
It is the same with books, especially books that are repetitive and that he reads all the time.
[I am listening to the title cut from Ronnie James Dio's opus, The Last In LIne, and it is so fucking rocking I am having trouble concentrating on this post. I love the total incoherence of his lyrics, juxtaposed on the onslaught of distorted Les Pauls crunching out through Marshall stacks. Pardon me if I get off track (I just did a devil sign as I typed this and just did it again). I digress.]
When Sam visits next, I’ll ask him to read along with me. “Why don’t you read me the story: I think this will work really well with things he already knows like “Where’s Binky?” which is also very simple (and funny). “Hop on Pop” and “Green Eggs and Ham” seem pretty good for that too. I’m going to do a little research and see how much early reading is about recognizing the shape of the word and its element letters, and how much is actually putting the sounds together to make the words. Melissa thinks Sam is an early reader (we just got off the phone: despite the bile I spewed earlier this evening, when it comes to Sam stuff I turn the spigot off and act like a rational human being), and wants to know how we can encourage this. I was an early reader too, so I’m eager to pass this along to Sam long distance be damned!
-SIGH-
This is what is such a pain in the ass. I don’t have the luxury of hating my ex. God, how I would love to be able to hate her and never talk to her again and just walk away from the whole thing. I am SURE she feels the same way about me. I mean look at the stuff I write when I get angry: I’m a total asshole, a royal dickweed, even if my anger IS justified (and for the record, it is).
At the end of the day, when it comes down to it, I stick up for her and support her because she’s Sam’s mom. Not because I want to, but not because I have to either. It’s a lot more complex: it’s both. Supporting and sticking up for the one means sticking up for the other (and I am speaking in general and specific terms, ie not the US’s unconditional support for Israel): in other words, when it comes to Sam’s interests, we go into things as a team, a co-operative as opposed to adversaries. I don’t know how long this will continue: I’m sure we’ll be at odds about education, residence, and all sorts of other shit within the next few years, and again you’ll hear me explode. But we’ll still come to some sort of truce and deal with things rationally, or as rationally as this insane arrangement will permit.
Man, this whole situation is a clusterfuck, isn’t it? A serious, raging monster clusterfuck. No wonder I’m always veering from normality to sheer rage.
I’ll let you in on a secret. My entire life has been spent with one foot in, and one foot out. Does that make sense? Outside of my immediate I’ve never felt fully accepted by anyone really, not in a long time. There are exceptions: I always feel 100% comfortable with Kate A.: we hit it off the minute we met, and the time she came with me as co-pilot on the ride to get Sam was one of the best long-distance drives I’ve ever been on. Stu of course has been my friend for longer than anyone else. Melissa W., Claiborne are people I can rock it with. But I’ve always been a bit off the page that everyone else was on, at least since 6th grade.
And this whole one-foot-in/one-foot-out dichotomy has followed me in all aspects of my life! I’m employed but can barely make ends meet. I’m a parent who never sees his kid. I’m a musician who plays nowhere. I own a house but live like a renter. It’s ridiculous. I’m so fucking fed up with it.
You know, I see my my peers doing shit with their music, or raising their kids, and when we talk about what we’re doing, I feel like such a phoney. I have no idea what parenting is like, not the way they do: I was absent for most of Sam’s all-nighters, because I was unemployed in the US and trying to find work. I don’t have that trial-by-fore the rest of the parents have, not yet. Ray knows what I mean: he missed Floyd’s infancy, and is going through the trial now with Elliott. I get an offer from a touring band, and I have to say, “no, I can’t do that sort of thing right now”, desperate to get back on the road: for that matter I invest three years of my time into a band led bya guy who turns out to be a psychotic. I gotta wonder, “when the fuck do I get my turn”, “why the hell did it stall out for me?, “what the hell do I do now?” It’s all the time too: personality clashes with Jennie, unemployment and a baby ruined UncleFucker, Paul turned out to be a lunatic… gah it makes no sense. I don’t mean to bitch but it just gets tiresome, it just gets fucking stale.
And I know, I KNOW, that things could be worse. But you know, you get to this point where you roll your eyes to the sky and say “WHAT. THE. FUCK.” I’ve banged my head on the wall so many fucking times, it’s left a dirty grey imprint.
I”m tired of this shit. The breaks I catch are so rare, it is time I leveraged my the breaks I have caught. I’m getting an appraisal and getting this joint on the market. If I can make even $80K, i can pay off the student loan and put a handsome down payment on a 3-bedroom in Wynnefield. I may be dead in the water as a musician, but there’s no reason tod rown in my debt.
4 Responses to “How to do It”
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
August 5th, 2006 at 3:51 pm
Hey! I saw one of your comments on Firedoglake where you linked to a flikr photostream which had amongst other things a photo of Michelle Malking in a bikini.
Is that real and if so, how on Earth did you find that?
August 5th, 2006 at 8:06 pm
I’m pretty sure it’s real. MM was an Oberlin student, and among the other photos in that strip is Noah Hall on Oberlin campus. Given the date the photo was taken, knowing Malkin’s age (one day older than me: i googled it), as well as the reeferences to spring break, i have to assume it’s real.
you know i can’t remember where I found the link. I think it was from one of tbogg’s commenters.
But boy what a trip, eh?
August 6th, 2006 at 1:41 am
Dude, that definatly has to be the best find ever. And the caption… just perfect…
Lets see if we can find a picture of O’Reilly with a falafel or Glenn Reynolds in a speedo. Then, all will be glorious…
August 6th, 2006 at 4:16 am
i sent it to jane and christy for future use, with the explicit warning not to credit me. I don’t need that kind of trollery here.
That caption, btw, is from her friend, someone who knows her. That’s even funnier.
See you at FDL!