Details Of The Whole

This is a LINK to an article.

You can read it.

I am pretty happy about it.

I mean I have been working towards something.

This article is part of that something.

Part of a whole thing.

I am proud, so sue me.

Few Days.

I got me the sick. 

Not an identifiable illness. 

Just a slight, creeping drip. 

Also a worn out feeling. 

I'm fading!

I'm ground up. 

I'm full of apples to no avail. 

It's the season. 

The busy season at work. 

Lots of hustle. 

Lots of waste. 

While the planet continues to bake, 

we pack and ship the pretty things to the wealthy people 

and we feed the garbage to the ocean. 

That is the industry in a nutshell. 

I'm not sure what kind of nut though. 

Probably a salted one. 

The wind is howling outside. 

I like that. 

Probably is like to live on a mountain top. 

Yeah the view is probably spectacular, 

but listen to that wind!!

I've been noticing a trend lately that is scrubby old men wearing Packer jackets. 

Is there a club I've not been invited to join?

We been playing games lately. 

Burger learned to go fish. 

So naturally we all must go fish. 

It's a nice way to unwind the day and get ready for bed. 

Which I'm about to go do. 

I love you guys. 

Call and say hi to the one you miss most. 

Lovemathw

Like Brudders.

The little one watches the big one.

All the time his eyes are tracking.

That's how he did that corn.

Like a Pro.

It is quite something to behold.

When Burger was born, I didn't know

how to be a Dad yet, and it was all

new territory.

Now I feel a bit more like I staked 

my claim and have been hanging out

for a while and so I am not as anxious

meaning I can play the role of the observer 

more than I could when Burger was a baby.

Speaking of Burger...

-The other day I told him he had to turn the hose off.

He said "I guess you're the God of the hose."

-I found him sitting on the porch looking at the clouds.

He had let himself onto the deck and was sitting and it was early.

He said "Wow, Dad. It's so early the clouds aren't even big yet."

With him starting 1st grade he has discovered his new confidence.

It's as if he took mental stock and began playing to his strengths

that he identified all on his own.

On his own.

There is an alertness in his eyes that is clear and calm.

It is contagious and it fills me with hope.

 Hope for the Little One.

Week Shots.

The Shadow.

The Smolder.

The Softness.

The Smile.

History Lesson

-Dad, whats the satue of liberty for?

That's how the Pilgrims got here son.

-What?!

Yes. You know how you like those Power Ranger books? Well, the Statue of liberty was the pilgrim's Zord, it's how they traveled back then.

-I thought they came on boats.

Yep, sure did. Then they had to break those boats down and build their Zord, which they 

modeled after a Pilgrim woman getting out of the shower.
-Why'd they do that?
So that they could start to colonize the New World.

-Then what?

They, with the help of Paul Bunyon took the land away from the Indians and made America.

-Who is Paul Bunyon?

He is Johnny Appleseed's Zord. He comes with a Blue Ox, who is also a Zord.

-Then what happened?

There is very little use for a Zord now a days since most of them wouldn't fit 

in our cars or homes, so they turned it into a statue.

-Why do we have the fireworks?

To appease the Liberty Zord so that she may never again stomp a trail 

of justice through the land, disrupting the peace.

It makes about as much sense as the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy.

Happy 4th y'all.

Will Work For Stars.

I think it is entirely reasonable to expect 

to be able to do one push-up for each year I've been alive. 

This seems like a workable goal. 

I also think that it is entirely reasonable to add a few extras 

for good luck and longevity. 

This is called superstition, but my pecs ain't complaining!

They actually are though 

on account of all the push-ups I've been using them for. 

But it's almost bikini season according to the magazines, and I need to be prepared. 

What do you work for?

What are the things?

Stars? Money? Time?

For me it's a little bit of all of the above. 

For me it's for other people. 

But that's not entirely true,  just sometimes it feels like that. 

But then, not right now, right?

With a cold beer and a hot bath 

and a storm rolling past 

kicking up wind outside.

This is for me. 

And for you. 

We are all for each other and let's leave it at that. 

Maybe you're lucky like me, and you get to spend some quality time in your brain for a few hours ...every other Saturday. 

Maybe that's all it takes sometimes because you appreciate the luck you have. 

The luck of the ability to tap into and explore a creative vein running through the universe. 

The luck of beautiful children to raise and teach and wrestle and love. 

The luck of an understanding partner that stands with you to appreciate the new day. 

The luck of a supportive network of family and friends that give you goals to aim for 

and keep you grounded and focused. 

There is a lot in this world, and we get a tiniest fraction of it if we are lucky in our lives. 

Demon.

Today I took Burger to the park and we chased a ball around.

I ran, as fast as I could, just for the sake of running as fast as I could.

Arms pumping, heart pounding, aiming straight for Burger and then,

WHOOOOOSH!

Right past him, veering away at the last second.

His eyes are so big, he is smiling so huge,

like he actually wants me to crash right into him

and take him tumbling to the turf.

He tests everything now.

His growth is as much a fascinating spectacle to him as it is to me.

After a water break I tell him we should run.

We should run as fast as we can towards the end of the field.

He looks off, then he looks at me.

Now we are running, and of course I am faster,

but we both know this is only for now.

He is right on my heels.

Breathing down my back.

I am running to preserve my stamina, speed and strength.

He is running full on into the joy of his physical youth.

With his eyes so big, and a smile so huge.

The Grip.

Grab and Go.

A move I came up with years ago.

And Then This Happened.

Usually people know to talk to me.

Crazy, unhinged people know this. 

They want to sell me some nail paint, 

or they want to bemoan the state of the world, 

sometimes they want to do me physical harm. 

It's probably my fault for acknowledging their existence.

I just can't help it though,

I have to look up,

I make eye contact,

I seal my fate. 

So what happened was Burger and I get on the train for a special trip to the city.

The doors open. 

Wow! A practically empty train greets us... how nice!

But then I sense him and next I hear him. 

"Fuck you with those fancy glasses"

Even though I'm sure he's talking to me, 

I tell myself he can't  be talking to me 

because my glasses are NOT fancy.

They aren't!

So rather than just turn around and wait for another train 

we sit down a ways away from the man 

and I just tell myself that there are some other fancy glasses angering the man.

There must be, because mine are certainly not fancy.

Burger and I watch out the windows while I try to ignore the persistently louder agitated vibes. 

And then we pass the tipping point. 

I say "we" because at this point wether I like it or not, this man is a part of our universe and will be until we can escape the train. 

This is when Burger starts to ask me what this guys problem is. 

He's sick I tell him.

He's angry I tell him.

...I don't know what is wrong with him but he's angry and sick. 

And then in a blur the man is crossing the train towards us. 

He's mad. 

He's yelling about surveillance, and CIA things.

He's yelling at me for teaching my son to hate black people. 

I turn Burger around, away from the man and I tell him not to listen.

Don't listen to the man. 

Just get ready I tell him. 

Then Burger turns around and looks at the man.

Which is something else I told him not to do, on account of how it engages them. 

And then the man reaches out, as if to separate Burger from the ensuing beat down he is ready to hand to me. 

He says 

Your daddy is a bad man. 

Your daddy's teaching you to hate black people. 

Then he says to me, I don't give a fuck, I'm not gonna hurt your boy but I'll kick YOUR fucking ass. 

I'm holding Burger's hand and telling him not to listen, just get ready to get off the train. 

You're daddy's a bad dad!

That does it. 

Burger swings around out of my grip and yells 

"MY DAD IS THE BEST DAD IN THE WORLD!"

He doesn't say this with any fear, he states it like the most absolute truth he knows. 

a.) I am six years old. 

b.) Legos are fucking awesome. 

c.) My Dad is the best Dad. 

And the man goes quiet. 

The train, half full of bystanders unwilling to intervene is quiet. 

Then the man looks at me and I look at him like what can I say!? The Boy has got my back. 

I'd like to say that this broke the tension, or that the train erupts with cheers and whistles, or that in this moment of clarity the man's brain suddenly rights itself and he apologizes and we all go about our day, happy as clams. 

But no. 

Instead, in the shock of the moment the train doors open 

and I say let's go! 

And we eacape, unharmed but a bit rattled. 

Now we are in a different train car, and we are sitting down. 

Deep breaths. 

Burger says he's sorry for talking to that man. 

It's okay I say. 

Then we are quiet. 

Then I say "You really told that guy what's what, you saved the day."

A smile starts to spread across his face and then he giggles 

"Yeah! I yelled at him and protected you!"

I can only stare at him, his beautiful face, 

his brave spirit, 

his bold voice that can silence a crazy world for a few precious seconds...

Then the train doors open

 and we walk out and up the stairs, 

holding hands, 

ready for the shit. 

The Path Of The Way.

No one gave me a map.

If they did, I surely lost it years ago.

But what I like about Life is that 

maps don't mean shit.

I was married.

But now I am not.

I had a Son.

Now I got two.

The constants are still there from before. 

The Paint, The Axe, The Way. 

And they blend nicely in with The New. 

And The New is beautiful.
The New is helpful.
The New wears a ponytail
like no body's business.

And that's another thing I like about Life. 

Lovematthew

Baby Rock Monster.

Abstraction, abstraction, abstraction. 

I don't know what it means exactly. 

Maybe I should look it up. 

Or maybe not. 

Maybe I know more than I think I do. 

It's happened before. 

I surprise myself

With what I know. 

I think of abstraction as a way to view the world. 

You got your squares, and they see the world a certain way. 

The way they want it to be and how they want us to see it. 

Then you break it apart and put it back together and... 

Boom! 

Abstraction!!

Oooh, that pisses off the squares something fierce. 

Until it's a painting they can brag about to their pals. 

Then it's not so bad for them. 

Abstraction I mean. 

But again, who even knows 

what that word means anymore?

Not me.

I didn't go to school. 

And when I did, I didn't pay attention. 

Obviously. 

If you just focus for a little while on what's going on, 

you're already one step ahead of most of them. 

This new baby, he really does something to me. 

With the Burger I was so concerned about everything, 

because it's easy to get wrapped up in something 

when it's your first time doing something. 

But the second time around, well it's easier. 

The noise and the movements, the far away stares. 

It's all a familiar role for me, which I am told is a saving grace. 

I tell myself that. 

On a daily basis. 

I took a blink and Burger is 6!!

I took a blink and Killroy is 2 weeks!!

It's only a matter of time and he's walking and wrestling and chasing me down. 

It's not so much a second chance, 

because for some reason that sounds like I missed something the first time around. 

No, it's just another opportunity, 

with a cautious reminder to take things slow

 and remember that there is this now,

 this breath, 

this night walk, 

this far away stare, 

this hand holding yours while you move 

willingly into the unknown with a smile on your face 

and the content snores of those you love, 

lulling you into tomorrow. 

Good night. 

Lovematthew

Muscle Memories.

Well.

Yep.

As you can see, I got my hands on some more of those

amazing blankets that they send new babies home from the hospital in.

What can I say? I am a lucky man.

I really am.

All the things that were pertinent bits of information?

Those all stuck around in my brain.

For example, I changed a diaper in my sleep last night.

The evidence of this amazing display were on hand this morning

yet I remember nothing of the actual act.

Probably you can search for it on the internet.

Just Google "amazing moments in fatherhood".

Burger, he was asking me the other day about the specific origins of a super villain named Red Skull.

I was like, look, I know who he is, but I have no clue as to his lineage.

I said, I am really smart, but most of my brain space is occupied by information

on how to be a good dad, and how to take care of my family.

And I also know how to paint nice pictures.

He said "Yeah dad, you're almost an artist!"

HA!!

The things that we are good at, those are the things we were meant to do.

And if you know what those things are, all the better for you.

Me? It's all still there, despite a few scary hiccups, I still got it.

Me? I'm raising two little boys to be the saviors of humanity.

Me? I am a good guy and I like to laugh.

Me? I'm alright.

And I am not alone.

I got a good team around me.

Sigh.

lovematthew

Birth of The Biter.

This guy.

What happened was...

I was loading a trailer, one of three trailers for the day that were scheduled to leave for Miami Basel which is an art fair that happens every year that I have never attended because it sounds like too much work for too little money and if I do ever go it'll be on my own terms (I don't know what that means) and so the only thing I want to have to do with it is on the loading end which is why yesterday I was freezing my toes off in one of three trailers making walls out of crates and boxes and flat pieces of art when it occurred to me that perhaps what was needed was a boost of morale which is why I volunteered to run to Dunkin Donuts for some big jugs of coffee and also some donuts since everyone seemed very cold and slightly miserable including me and my boss who agreed that my idea was a good one and sent me off to gather the ingredients necessary to help keep people motivated through the long, wet day ahead.

While I was waiting in line at the store I received a message that my son was in trouble at school (gasp!) for biting another little boy on the finger and it was quite serious because the other little boy was bleeding.

So here I am, one minute feeling so pleased with myself for having pushed the coffee run through legislation and then the next minute feeling as though my son is sending me some kind of message that makes me feel the opposite of pleased with myself because obviously what kind of child bites another child hard enough to break the skin but a possibly future super vilain that for obvious reasons would be known as The Biter as he terrorizes the city, challenging all comers to just try and stop him and his villainous chompers?

Honestly, one minute I was up, the next I was lower than low.

My order was ready.

I paid for it and headed back, slower than before, sadder than before.

I asked for a minute alone with the supervisor and explained the situation, I had to leave early to go pick up Burger after school and talk with the teachers and apologize (I guess) for not having... 

What?

Seen the signs?

What signs?

Did I miss something?

Had he been aggressively biting his food at meals? 

Was he especially "gnashy" lately?

I hadn't heard any evil cackling after lights out...

All these things I thought about for the rest of my time in the trailers.

I made it through two of the three and then I had to leave.

While I walked to school, I thought of all the times I got in trouble and I remembered what an awful feeling it was to know I had done something wrong but wouldn't know the full extent of my trouble until I got home and faced my Mom and in the meantime had to finish the day with the weight of the unknown on my shoulders surrounded by the innocent and free and as soon as I locked eyes with Burger in the play yard there was an immediate recognition of these feelings in his eyes and this brought fresh tears.

We walked to a coffee shop where I felt like we could talk and I did my fatherly duties.

The story of why Burger bit the boy is not nearly as deep or scary as my imagination had built it up to be, there was no bad blood or ancient feud. 

It was just kid stuff, which I know how that sounds in today's society with all the terrible things that children are capable of, and I get it, that shit is scary.

But this was not that.

A Bad Guy he is not.

As we walked away from the school it was cold and raining and we passed a groups of giggling little girls "Bye Burger!" they yelled.

-Who were those girls?

Those were just some of my friends.

-Do they know what happened to you today?

Yes, they were in the room when it happened.

-Well they didn't seem too upset about it.

Sometimes we all make mistakes, Dad.

He stole my line.

loveyouguys, don't bite!

The Never Ending Make Believe.

Which Lego guy are you? Because I am the Green Ninja.

You should be the Red Ninja, okay?

...OKAY!?

Say "Come on Green Ninja! The evil snakes are coming!!"

PSHHHHH PPPSHHHH!! 

(Canon noises)

Whoah! What was that?! 

Do you know what that was? That was Blob in that green car!

Which Avenger guy are you now?

Can I be Hawkeye? 

Please?

Can I be Hawkeye please?

I'm Hawkeye, okay? Okay?

Okay, I'm Hawkeye, which Avenger guy are you?

You can be Hulk.

Okay?

I mean I'm Batman instead, okay?

Let's play Justice League instead, okay?

I'm Batman so which Justice League Super Hero are you?

You can be Green Lantern, okay?

"Ha-Ha-Ha"

Whoah! What was that?! Did you hear that?

It sounded like the Joker!

COME ON GREEN LANTERN! LETS GO GET THE JOKER!!

-End scene.

Getting ready for school in the morning.

Heading to the grocery store.

Waiting in life's various lines.

This is basically every single waking moment of our time together.

Most of the time I am into it. I mean, I try to be into it as much as possible.

But holy F'ing S it is exhausting sometimes.

Like, I don't always want to be a superhero on a mission.

Most of the time?

Sure, why not?

I got nothing better to do.

But like, first thing in the morning? 

I can't always do it.

Sorry, no offense.

So when he presses me for an answer

I say "I'm the breakfast cook at the Hall of Justice" 

and then he eyes me suspiciously as he stuffs cereal in his mouth.

Not too shabby for 6 in the morning.

Take Note.

What's the best part of leaving the city?

...Leaving the city.

It doesn't matter why, it doesn't matter where.

Just get the F outta the city.

Good for you.

I feel like it will take a few more days or weeks to 

fully process the trip to Arizona.

It'll bleed through.

Lift With Your Heart.

Today was one of those days, like the old days where you just can't seem to tackle the mountain of work in front of you and you spend a lot of time looking around at the grandeur of the space in which you are currently packing it's contents for transport to some different place that is probably more grand than the current occupancy in which you are spending precious moments that you will never get back no matter how hard you wish and no matter how hard you work because just looking around you know that these people made different life choices earlier on in their lives that resulted in a whole shit load of responsibility you never wanted and are thankful you don't have because really this is just one big carrot leading to nowhere special and besides, the only people that have this many art books are the people that can't make art for themselves... And this is what you talk about as you drive over the bridge, back to your tiny apartment where everything makes sense to you and you feel like you can actually 

breathe.

Finally.

Le Swamp.

Thinking about turning my head, looking over my shoulder.

I hear some clicks, some breaths.

I think I am being watched.

Stay the course though.

Keep focused.

Smile.

Today was wet, cold, warm and then cold again.

Repeat, over and over until it is time to call it a day.

Done early, so I race to grab my son.

I mean to say that I want to run into the school, pick him up and squeeze him.

It is the closest thing to an addiction I have in my life.

Hugging and kissing my boy.

But life has different plans for me.

Instead of hugs I get the long face.

He isn't ready to leave.

I can't compete with Horton.

So we spend the next few hours wrestling with our emotions.

Trying to make the gears fit again.

To pick up where we left off.

It's funny and sad because it is times like this that I think he will remember.

The times we didn't get along, or connect properly...

But that is just my paranoia, stupid paranoia.

Tonight, before he fell asleep, he says to me

"I love you Dad. I'm sorry we were fighting"

I say

"Buddy, we weren't fighting. We were just figuring things out."

 Because that is the truth.

 

Power Bands.

Things happen in a flash.

That is something I have always said.

One minute you are minding your own business.

The next minute you almost chop your arm off.

What happened was that I was closing my truck door, the door to the box.

And I got my arm caught right as the door was slamming down.

Right onto my wrist!!

I thought for sure that I broke my wrist, and this was a "best case scenario".

I really thought I probably had just chopped my hand off at the wrist

and any second the pain would register and I would faint at the sight of a bloody stump.

Squirting blood and bone goo.

Fortunately for me, Burger had long ago slipped some power bracelets onto my arm.

It's true! I watched him do it... kinda.

I was pretty much asleep, but I have a hazy memory....

He really had to work pretty hard at it, 

his tongue was sticking out and everything.

 Because of his hard work I still have my hand.

I truly believe this.

That tiny band of jelly plastic saved me.

It sacrificed itself for the greater good.

(My hand being the greater good in this story.)

So that evening, I was about to put a piece of steak into my mouth

and as I was raising the fork to my mouth I noticed that the yellow power bracelet was broken.

The sight of this broken bracelet almost ruined my appetite for steak.

Almost.

It wasn't until the following morning that I put two and two together

and realized what must have happened.

It's a weird thing how we assign importance to certain items and how we think that 

they might be with us forever. I actually thought I might be buried 

with these bracelets on my wrist.

Who knows? I still have the red one...

 

 

Why Say It Again?

This is how it goes, no matter how many times 

I explain what I am doing Burger always 

wants me to be doing something else.

For a good example, this evening I was making dinner and he said he wanted Tuna Fish. I had already told him I was not making that for dinner. 

I had told him this many times. 

I didn't want to tell him up front what I was making because I find it is easier to feed him when I can spring the meal on him and he has as little time to react as possible. 

So we get home and go through the getting home routine of hanging up our coats and getting into our pajamas. 

I start to make our meal. 

The meal is a small piece of chicken with a lot of vegetables and maybe some noodles. 

Also there will be a glass of Apple Cider.

So as I am prepping the roasting pan, Burger comes into the kitchen and asks if his Tuna Fish is ready yet and I remind him how I already told him that we wouldn't be having that for dinner and then he looks at what I am making instead and he says:

"Oh I see! You're making me vegetables that I don't want to eat".

The thing is that he says it so mater of factly.

He is okay with what I am doing, but he is also being honest.

And here I was worrying that I didn't know what I was doing raising a child.

Shows what I know.

I love you guys.

 

Three Dads.

There is no time.

No time to sit around.

The time we have is for doing, not thinking!

We can think later.

That is the general consensus on this side of the world anyways.

The snow is only around for what seems like a second.

There is no worry, just pure unbridled excitement 

released in a burst, sprinting down the ice packed hill.

Sure I could have tried to stop him.

But history is full of people trying to control the forces of nature.

It gets us nowhere, that is what I think anyways.