Archive for the ‘everydaymay’ Category
And thus, #everydaymay concludes.
It’s been a good month. This little project went much better than when I tried it in November, partially I’m guessing because of lowered expectations. Mostly though, I think this was just a better month in my life. When I started the month, I knew that there were going to be some posts that were simply exercises in forming words into sentences, and some of them were. Some posts I was actually quite proud of.
Except this one. I totally phoned this one in.
Couple ideas for tonight’s post rolling around in my head, but I’d be lying if I said that this bottle of The Bruery’s Trade Winds Tripel isn’t slightly muddling my focus. Instead of trying to just pick a topic and writing about it, I think I’ll just list the topics I have in my head.
- Every musician carries the self-imposed curse of wishing they were as good as they are ten years ago. If only we just could have been a good player without having to work for it.
- “Community” is (or maybe was) the best show on TV. As silly, or weird, or funny, or brilliant, or intelligent as it’s ever been, it’s also one of the most human shows out there. At the heart of the show is this amazing group of seven characters who start as strangers and continually choose to stick together as a group/family regardless of all their over-the-top flaws and idiosyncrasies. It just really speaks to me.
- My son slept through the entire night last night for the first time ever. He slept from 7:40pm until 7am and I’m so happy and proud of him. The wonderful irony is that I couldn’t fall asleep last night until after 2:30am and only ended up getting about four hours of sleep.
- I’ll say this once and then
harp on it repeatedly leave it alone: I can’t understand wanting to keep taxes low on the very wealthy. I’m not saying punish success, I’m just saying that you made it with American society’s help and maybe you owe them. I didn’t say it, but to whom much is given, much is required.
- I seriously can’t wait for “The Dark Knight Rises,” “Prometheus,” and (maybe) “Brave.”
A couple weeks ago I went to my favorite local restaurant by myself. I’ve never had a problem doing things like eating or seeing a movie by myself. I was thinking a couple days ago that maybe I could find a time some time soon to do that again, maybe when Amanda had a play date with someone. Then I thought that I should just bring my boy with me and we could just have a little lunch together. That’s something I would want to do when he’s older anyway, so I might as well start practicing now.
Today we went to lunch at that same place and it was really great. My boy is a little peculiar about his eating habits though. Sometimes he has to feed himself, others I have to feed him. Sometimes he doesn’t want to eat anything regardless of how long it’s been since he ate last. Sometimes he freaks about it, sometimes he’s just interested in other things. Today was one of the days he just didn’t feel like eating much at all, but I brought a sippy cup of milk for him that he couldn’t get enough of.
Another funny thing about my son: he loves getting people’s attention. When I take him to Target or the grocery store, he’ll literally look around and around at everyone he sees hoping to get a reaction. Whenever someone (especially a female) notices him and smiles even a little, he smiles as big as he can and yelps out a little laugh. He also does this in restaurants.
So he wouldn’t eat today, but he would drink from his cup. And he smiled at everyone in this restaurant that is also very well known for it’s bar. Today, at lunch, all my son wanted to do was drink and flirt. I don’t know whether to be proud or worried.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a fearful, if not at least tentative, writer. I am, for better or worse, concise with my words. I’m afraid of needlessly rambling at the expense of better explaining my thoughts.
Just a late night thought.
Just real quick, if you’re a frozen yogurt store owner/manager/operator/whatever and you’re offering crushed Oreos as a topping but secretly using crushed Hydrox or whatever generic sandwich cookie you find instead in order to save a few pennies, I hate you.
Now for a story from Europe.
This is Rita.
She is in the middle of emphatically telling me something while Amanda sneaks a picture of her. We met her in one of the little cafés in the Louvre in Paris. It was fairly crowded and seating was limited. Amanda and I happened to sit down at the table next to her. Our plan was for Amanda to hold the table for us while I ordered us lunch. Rita is a smart gal who noticed what we were doing and decided to ask Amanda if I wouldn’t mind ordering something for her so she didn’t have to lose her table either. While I was away ordering everyone’s food Rita asked Amanda the usual “you’re obviously tourists” questions that locals have been asking since tourism became a thing. It was funny in Paris, because everyone we met (who were all amazingly friendly, by the way) was at first surprised, then impressed, then just sort of charmed that a young American couple would choose to see Paris instead of every other option available to us. Same with Rita. She really liked who Amanda was and that she’s a nurse, and she loved that I was musician. Rita loved the arts and was very knowledgeable about them. She loved talking art and hearing how I saw music. She was almost appalled that I had never heard of a particular artist who was also a musician. We ended up talking kind of a while and decided that coffee was an appropriate way to end our lunch. While I again went to order for all of us, Rita had a thing or two to say to Amanda. The most important thing was when Rita told her, “He could be great, but you…you have to PUSH him.”
That stuck with me. Mostly because it’s 100% true. There’s very few times where a person you meet one time can see straight into you and then speak truth into your life. Rita was one of those people for me. She saw my love of music and knew that I could potentially not become what I could be because I wouldn’t work as hard as possible. And I need Amanda. And she does push me.