i've got a lot to think about, oh yeah
When I was 16 years old, my friends and I dreamed of the big communal house we would have when we grew up. We decorated each of the rooms, we drew floor plans, and we made everything reflect our 16-year-old sensibilities. As we were heavily into Anne Rice/Stephen King/slasher movie horror at the time, we decided to paint a huge horror mural along one of the walls.
”Our kids are going to be really shock-proof,” Mr. Shoreleave mused. “They’re going to grow up around all of these scary things.”
Well, I may be only half-way committed to raising my child in a spooky way, but the earlier me would be gratified to know that my first born is now a Concrete Blonde fan. In particular, he has decided that he likes to hear the title track from “Bloodletting” while he tilts from one leg to the other in an odd dance. (And I get even more cred because I married someone with this album on cassette. I only had dubbed copies growing up and bought the CDs much later.)
Blake has also made news today because he asked to be put on the potty right before it became necessary. For that he got a star and a gummi bear. (He’s been fascinated with the gummi bears ever since the Boy told him about their existence and has tried various cons to secure one. Having earned one, he became puzzled. He ended up carrying it around until I forced him to chew it up (it was melting away). I don’t think it was a taste success.)
This morning I went to the gym for the first time in about 6 months. I spent about 20 minutes blissed out on the cross trainer, watching and listening to everyone around me. (I never remember a walkman and I don’t own an iPod.) After my hour, I felt sufficiently brave to step on a scale. I was pleased to see that I’m currently sitting at just under 142 pounds. That means that I weigh about as much as I did when I graduated in Nova Gothic 4 years ago. If I can lose just 7 pounds in the next 5 weeks, I can travel back in time a whole decade, to just after the Freshman 10 released me from its greasy grip.
Anyway, here’s hoping. I’ll try not to slip up too many times in August; after all, it is my birthday (30th) and anniversary (6th) and I’ve never managed to celebrate my birth without a big meal.
Yesterday I took the family out for lunch with the Lawyer and his bride. We don’t keep in touch very well, and I was sad to learn recently that he and the wife will be moving to Vancouver in a month. Still, they’ll be back to visit, which means that I’ll probably see them as much as I do now. I remain melancholy.
Despite my melancholy, all three of us had a great lunch. Both the Lawyer and his woman are excellent conversationalists, and they both seemed to like Blake, so all of my social requirements were met.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*