Junkyard Rust

"Virginia Avenue"

"Well, I'm walkin' on down Virginia Avenue
Tryin' to find somebody to tell my troubles to"

Explorers

It's a Book

Adam Gopnik reviewed It's a Book by Lane Smith and my kids and I are looking forward to reading it soon.

Mother and Son

Personalities

Who is this kid anyway?

Why is he dancing with my daughter? Does he even have a job? A dad deserves to know these things.

At Her Big Brother's Wedding

A Cute Story My Son Wrote

Saving My Sister

Once upon a time I was at the pool. It was fun until my sister started drowning. I had to save her. I swam under water. I looked for her.

When I almost went up I spotted her. I swam to her and grabbed her. I saved her. It was amazing. Everyone shouted hooray to me. I saved her. I was happy.

Sick Day

Maybe Writing, Definitely Typing

"Sunshine makes us gloomy." - from The News from Lake Wobegon

I'm up late tonight listening to Garrison Keillor via iTunes. I've gotten behind on listening to podcasts and am taking this time to catch up. Speaking of catching up, it occurred to me a few minutes ago that I used to read a fun blog called Dad Gone Mad once upon a time and somehow forgot about it. Visiting him just now I see that not only do I have many posts to peruse but he also has a serious book out entitled Rage Against the Meshugenah. It reminds me that my wife wants me to pursue turning a bedtime story that I made up for my kids into a children's book for those who might wish to buy such a thing for their kids. Why not, right? Even if no one outside of this household cares, it would be cool to go through the process of finding out. And in the end, at least my kids will have a book dedicated to them on their bookshelves.

I don't know if this is any good or not, but I like it.

My Most Peaceful Moment

Honolulu at night from my balcony

The Princess and Her Bodyguard

Nearing the end of summer.

He with the expressive eyes.

When he's at his fastest of Tasmanian Devil-like moments, it can be easy to forget about what he's like when he's at his most contemplative. The reward is in knowing more. He's very bright and perceptive and with a well-timed query, he can stop the noise of the world and bring me into his kindest of souls and most loving of hearts.

And she wins.

To her, I paraphrase Kevin Spacey in Glengarry Glen Ross: "Will you go to sleep?"

To me, she quotes Ben Kingsley in Sexy Beast: "No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

And we'll read Adam Gopnik's Paris to the Moon as we fly over the Atlantic

I came home early tonight and got to enjoy a bit of quality time with my kids. While walking the dog and talking with my tag-along daughter, a plane flew over our heads. Ari gasped with delight and remarked, "I just can't wait to fly in a plane and go to Paris someday."

I love that kid and I hope more than anything that her Paris dreams eventually come true.

Nights and Weekends

Sometimes I feel like an absentee dad. I sleep in the same home with my wife and kids, but I don't see them very much. In the mornings, there's the bustling about of everyone getting ready for school so my quality time with my family is reduced to frantic conversations regarding lost shoes. "Well, where did you leave them?" "I don't know." "Just hurry up and find them. Time is of the essence." We like that phrase because it rhymes with bioluminescence, the big word that the kids and I love that we know. Thirty minutes of getting ready and they're in the van and off to school and I'm back to bed for part two of my nightly sleep.

Sometimes I get a Saturday or a Sunday off, but those are rare. The hospitality industry needs industrious me the most on the weekends. Happy to be employed and grateful for the health insurance, I obligingly clock in promptly for each and every shift, missing my family but conscious that my time in uniform and nametag is all for them, for us. Still, it smacks hard when I'm aware that my own case of arrested development, doing a job best suited for college kids and retired persons, continues to earn a paltry sum toward this family's modest budget. I appreciate that I've got it better than many, but my kids just know that they miss their dad.

Forgive me. I'm just ruminating tonight that I've got to figure out how to become the man I want to be. My wife and kids would like to see me more often. For them, I'd like to find a job that pays more and has me home at nights and on weekends. This has always been my desire, of course, but it was made especially clear that my absence is having its effects when my five-year-old daughter made a passing comment to me the other evening on a rare evening off. "Daddy," she asked. "Do you sometimes wish you didn't work nights so that your kids wouldn't miss you and be sad?" Oh, the power of a simply asked question. Oh, the guilt. I shared what she said with my Twitter friends and learned that even the 9-5ers have endured similar guilt-inducing moments with their kiddos. We do what we must and we know it's for the greater good. If only it was a tad easier for the kids to understand.