When you ask

A list of the things you do that you will most probably ask me about at some point and I will probably forget at some point. I remember asking my Mom, what was I like when I was a kid, and she remembered a couple things here and there but nothing as detailed as I would have wanted. So in case you are as detailed as me….

– if you drop your blanket on the floor and I pick it up and call your name, instead of coming all the way back to retrieve it you sort of wait a bit cause you see I’m about to throw it to you, and in mid-motion you catch it on your shoulder (if it’s a good throw) and head into my room.

– you can kick a soccer ball while you’re running.

– when you sleep you NEED my arm wrapped around you or else you can’t sleep. My bed is small so when you fall asleep I switch positions putting my head where your feet are and if you happen to wake up in the middle of the night you say, “wanna sleep daddy” and get up to put your head where my head is.

– a subway ride is your number one choice of entertainment. Bus, is a close second.

– you swipe the metrocard when we board the bus and one time you did it, this scraggly haired new yorker-lady saw you do it, asked your age, and said, “He’s the youngest thing I’ve ever seen do that.” So not only are you coordinated, you look young for your age.

– you drink coffee.
– you can remember parts of a book you’ve read, without the book in front of you. So let’s say we have recently read “Spot the Dog” (which is a great title cause the book is all about looking for this dog [Spot] who is hiding), and I ask you, “Is he under the bed?” You’ll say ‘no’ [cause in the book he’s not under the bed, but in the basket] and also say what IS under the bed (alligator).

– when you first saw the picture of the alligator you thought it was a skateboard, which is great considering I had taken you, the day before, to a skate park.

– when reading ‘Hands Hands Fingers Thumb,” every time i read, “Hand picks and apple…” you always say “Hand picks a plumb,” finishing off the page.

– You can repeat anything. I’ve read that “Polar Bear Polar Bear what do you hear” book to you and you know every animal by what it looks like and you can say the name of that animal. You speak way more English (at 2 and a half) than I do Spanish (and I have been studying on and off for five years).

– there isn’t a person you meet or pass on the street that doesn’t say how cute you are.

– you don’t like the attention of strangers.

– you say hello to everyone by waving your hand at them. Very friendly. This aspect of your character makes me feel especially warm.

– you lie on the floor with a car in your hand and move the car slowly forward. It seems you’re observing the motion of the wheel, which seems you’re into mechanics.

– I told you to watch your fingers don’t get caught in the door and when you see a door in a book you put your fingers to where they could get ‘caught’ and say “watch fingers.”

– you stole a toy car.

Actual Email

Hey Elan,

I was just thinking about the impression you ones (sic) did about A**** having sex with her husband and I still get tears in my eyes from laughing. How are you? Long time no see. it’s about time to have a beer.

To be read at my funeral.

The New Girl

The new girl’s got style.

She’s got brains, beauty and loves to begin sentences with, “I’ve got a hunch.” “I’ve got a hunch their coffee beans are from Italy.” Her father may well be a retired gumshoe (bent on re-entering the slick stained streets of Manhattan), and the whole “retired coal miner” who lives in Daytona Beach, could just be a cover.


The new girl lies, but if you think about it, it’s to protect the interest of her father who may (or may not) have enemies in Russia or China, who may (or may not) be trying to even the score with him for some deal gone wrong. In essence she could be protecting me, which I consider nurturing.

And she does have a heart. An old lady sat on a bench and took three minutes and twenty-one seconds to open a deli made tuna sandwich and when she finally got all the paper off the pickle (neatly wrapped within the confines of the wrapping), it fell to the floor. The new girl didn’t know I was watching her [watching the old lady] and I’m never gonna tell her cause you never know how people are going to react when you first let them know that you saw them cry.


The new girl cries, but if you think about it, most people cry (for good reasons or not), and the ones who don’t sure walk around thinking about it and the ones who do sure make life difficult for everyone else by forcing us to listen, and the ones who don’t and don’t think about crying, aren’t really living, and the ones who do and do make life difficult for us, are kinda special in a way because they make us feel worthy of being told something so private that it brings a person to tears, which I consider giving.

Don’t be fooled by her vulnerable side, the new girl can eat.

She weighs a 175 pounds and can’t go four city blocks without stopping for a Big Mac (not the whole meal). Her capacity for burgers is only outmatched by her knowledge of McDonald locations. “I’ve got a hunch there’s a Mickey-D’s on 2nd and Irving.” She kisses the burger before shoving it into her mouth and the first time I saw her do it I had my mouth open about to eat a french fry and just stared at her with a look of incomprehension, only snapping out of it when she burped and snatched the fry out of my hand claiming, “I took too long,” before popping it into her mouth.


She eats a ton, which might be a bad thing if she forced me to pay (which she doesn’t), so I can consider our experience a good thing. Whereas if she didn’t eat at all and forced me to pay (which she doesn’t), and which would be similar to dating myself with someone looking-in, I would…. still consider the experience a good thing.

Either way, I’ll see her again (or not).

Too much in my head

I was given a picture back that one of Tonya’s friends took [of me and raf] when he was maybe 4 or 5 months old and rested on the main mantlepiece of the bedroom we shared during my stay in her abode. It’s a good picture, of both of us, but the picture is more than a picture it’s a symbol of my days in the home. That’s not quite accurate. It is a symbol that a Dad lived in a house with his son, that picture, given back to me, says ‘you don’t live here anymore.’

I wanted out of that relationship. There was not a day that went by when a tiny little mousy thought popped a kernel inside my head and the kernel read ‘how do I get out of here?’ Yet now that I’m out and someone else [within a time frame that would rival Hamlet’s mom’s marriage] is in… I guess I don’t like being replaced.

And that is what it feels like, very very quickly being replaced.

New cars replace old cars. Ideas are replaced. Windows are replaced. Roofs are replaced, but people? No. Yes?

Replacing a person is unlike replacing a roof. If a roof is leaky, you replace it, then no longer leaky. If a person is making you unhappy you replace them and then no longer unhappy? Maybe, but with a roof there’s science. You examine roof, hole here, here, and here. You replace roof and fill the holes. With people you don’t always know where the holes are but what you can be sure of is that they’re everywhere and sometimes the things that leak out of the person making you unhappy might actually be leaking out of you. Sometimes the holes look smooth, filled, like hills in Florida. So when a person is making you unhappy because he has all these holes and you replace them with another person whose holes look like hills, there is still a chance you may get wet.

Also, I think wanting to be happy in life is stupid.

Happiness is a by-product of something else; you’re happy because the person you love, loves you, you’re happy because you finished the finished the New York City marathon, you’re happy because you have intimate relationships with people you trust and appreciate. Wanting to be happy, when you cut out the doing and put the spotlight on the wanting, (makes you leave home go on a journey, meet strangers, get into adventures, almost die, grab the jewel barely make it out, and come back home only to learn you never had to leave. Hm.

Ok, wanting to be happy in life, if it makes you go on adventures, is not stupid.