Tag Archives: daddy

Sound and Vision–or: Strange Fascination

Screen Shot 2018-09-23 at 8.12.18 AMVarious pictures to delight, today.

Pictures of the sounds and visions of the lives growing and roving forth. Some of which show the people responsible for the sounds which the kidlings are into these days, others of which show the kidz themselves.

MD 1The elder of the kiddiewinks is loving Marina and the Diamonds these days. Headed by Marina Diamandis, who was born in Wales in the UK (Greek dad, Welsh mom), she broke in 2009 and I think accurately describes her sound as “indie artist with pop goals”. It’sScreen Shot 2018-09-23 at 9.10.40 AM melodic in that theatrical way that’s in the tradition of glam rock (from T-Rex and Roxy Music to Elton John, Bowie and Queen). This quote from her seems appropriate:

“I created the name ‘Marina and the Diamonds‘ 5 years ago and I never envisaged a character, pop project, band or solo artist. I saw a simple group made up of many people who had the same hearts. A space for people with similar ideals who could not fit in to life’s pre-made mold. I was terribly awkward for a long time! I really craved to be part of one thing because I never felt too connected to anybody and now I feel I have that all around me.”

Diamandis describing the concept behind the stage name “Marina and the Diamonds”, 2010.

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And she (the elder of the kids) is also deep into a musical called Be More Chill, which is now off Broadway (she just enjoyed her 1st trip to NYC to see it) after a previous run Screen Shot 2018-09-23 at 8.42.52 AMin New Jersey, based on a novel. It’s about a high-tech pill that enables a sort of Faustian way for teens to finally be cool, conform etc, with predictably catastrophic results, triumphed by the one character who doesn’t “drink the Kool-Aid”, as it were. Rockin!

 

Mr. Jolly Younger Progeny (who readers of the blog & others might recall from last Screen Shot 2018-09-23 at 8.14.29 AMsummer, was at that time into electro-swing, specifically the group Caravan Palace from France; taking him last June was his first concert)…anyway, he’s currently into David Bowie as well as Queen.

And yes, their epic, legendary collaboration “Under Pressure” (in which, IMHO, they together hauled downScreen Shot 2018-09-23 at 8.21.30 AM the very cosmos to caress our souls through the speakers) can be said to be a sort of wellspring of his getting into the harder Screen Shot 2018-09-23 at 8.22.44 AMrocking of that pair.

This is all but the surface of layers of interesting as far as a ridiculously proud daddy’s meta view is concerned, because of the following: they both play instruments in school band (older on flute, younger on keyboard bass), and I’m trying to figure out if the pieces or styles of what they like to perform bear any discernable relationship(s) to what they like to hear. (So far, hard to tell…)–and secondly, because since they were 4 and 2 years old I’ve had music playing pretty much literally 24/7, all kinds.

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And it’s just such the ultimate joy to watch and listen to them and the tunes they respond to as they change. Mr. Bowie’s words again (yet again!) ring true for them (in 8th and 10th grades) just as they did when they ran in my 10th grade yearbook.

And then here’s some fun from last year’s Halloweens…ya know, catching the heck up before this one. Confession: none of us knows yet what we’re going to dress as this year! Lol

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skull kid

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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michael-rooker-guardians-of-the-galaxy

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Medieval Daddy DNA

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The rabbit hole opens wide, gnarled and deep as the results of the Y-DNA analysis of the remains now confirmed to be Richard III of England are released, along with the results of a comparison to the Y-DNA of other men who, like Richard III, are ostensibly also descendants of King Edward III…and the DNA don’t match, folks!

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John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster; Son of Edward III, ancestor of living men whose Y-DNA was tested

EDMUND YORK1

Edmund of Langley, Duke of York; Son of Edward III, ancestor of King Richard III, whose Y-DNA is now known.

So the question is, where and when was the one or more alternative fatherings of any one or more of the 19 links between the living men whose DNA was tested and the infamous King Richard III?

My full post on this is going live at the Global Family Reunion site any time. I’ll update with a link so check back today or tomorrow for that.

In the meantime, click here for a handy chart.

 

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More Recent (and, u-hem, some backlog…) Photos

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Ah yes.

It was utter genius. Or perhaps I’m just not that hip when it comes to just how fun parties can be…ok, scratch that, but nonetheless, I learned something new about what sorts of things can be easily rented to enhance a party with sugar! And what does a kid birthday party need but that, eh? (:-o)

But seriously, if there’s gonna be sugar at the bday fest, might as well get cool with it. So this very nice and totally with-it dad rented a snow cone machine and a cotton candy machine for his son’s birthday that my kids and I attended a few months back. It was awesome! On-demand cotton candy?!!? On-demand snow cones…a-and where you get to pour your own syrup?!   It was great. We had fun. Above is a picture.

OTHER PIX

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From a delightful li’lgift my daughter got for HER birthday, she learned how to make her thumb appear like a person hanging off a ledge.   Bwah ha ha ha.

 

 

 

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And here we are AT my daughter’s birthday this summer. I’m in a toga (and everyone’s in purple) since this year’s theme was “Camp Jupiter”, a boarding-school and training camp for demi-gods born of the Roman pantheon from the Percey Jackson follow-up series of novels. Awesome, brilliant stuff.

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Backlog of cuteness


Kids.

As a colleague/some-time boss of mine at TechTV once said to me and to a young-turk fresh out of college w/ a shiny new degree in broadcast who had gone through an entire two-hour tape TWICE without seeing a single usable shot for an Antiques-Roadshow-style tech-talk show we were doing from which in literally 12 minutes I’d run through the whole tape and isolated at least four usable shots of darling little kids….on their daddy’s shoulders looking intently at the stage …holding mommy’s hand peering shyly at the fascinating cameras…laughing as they ran under a table in their own li’l worlds….he said so plainly that the truth could not be denied — and schooled that young turk intern:

(with emphasis on both the first word, and the last, thus emphasizing the matter-of-factness as if one were saying: 2 plus 2 DOES equal 4…re-MEM-ber?)

Kids are cute.

(as in KIDS are CUTE)

They sure are.

Here’s some backlog of cute times recently. You’ll find the “Hands that became kitties” and other delights… :-)

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– 40! –

Snappy!

I’m 40! Woo hoo!

I’ve finally gotten around to posting this little bit noting the completion of my 40th trip around the sun. The sun — that giver of light, that wing-threatening fire in the sky, that center of our local gravity, that determinant of the earth’s very spin and thus of the ur-perennial metronome of light and shadow which shapes our funny little human way of perceiving life, the universe and everything. That’s a pretty heavy duty thing to make a full trek all the way around, when ya think of it like that.

Or then again, maybe not. Cuz as our spaceship Earth flies around that sun, so does the time fly right by. Forty years is but 14,610 days. Maybe it’s just me, but that somehow doesn’t sound like a long time at all. That’s only 350,640 hours! With any luck I’ll get another 14,000 days — and you will, too, since let’s be honest: we could use another 14,000 or so days, am I right? Heck, I’ve never even been to Club Med! See, that right there was a joke; Club Med is not on my list of Things I Need To Do. I’m not knocking it, but ya know, there are other things ahead of it in line, so to speak. Heck, I haven’t been able to return to the Venice Bienale (epic art showcase every odd-#’d year in Venice, Italy), or to the Detroit Electronic Music Festival! And obviously those are after the whole Conquering the World thing.

Well, I better get cookin’, right?

Good ole banner-year birthdays like 40 give a person the opportunity to, you know, take stock and assess this ‘n that about oneself. Which is to say that yes, *I* took that opportunity this time around. I mean, what the heck, right? Forty is after all, well known for just how nice and even a number it is. Also, I found it possible to pretend I really did it for my own personal (solipsistic) reasons (thus pretending to ignore the obviousness that the “popularity” of taking stock of your life at 40 years owes itself to its tending to be the middle of a lifespan and a very natural moment to assess where you’ve been, what you want, and how getting it seems to be working for you.)

Sooo….since 40 is indeed just a number, I turned to — what else — numerology! — as that personal excuse and means to reflect upon myself on “myself at 40”. LOL Numerology gets a bad rap, I must say. Here’s my super-quick explanation of why it’s not a waste of time. One, numerology does not lay claim to numbers being the agents of any causality, nor do I view them that way. If some fans of it do so, well don’t blame numerology for their misunderstanding that part. Secondly, its value is instead as a pattern-recognition metric. Bucky Fuller — that genius of architecture, math, environmentalism, and more held the same view and states it brilliantly here), and does some matheletic gymnastics demonstrating ….well, demonstrating SOMEthing crazy and mathematicalistical or something here!

Annnyway, numerology breaks down your name and birth date into 5 single-digit numbers, which signify different large patterns in your life. In my case, the number “4” happens to pop up noticeably a lot: April’s the 4th month, 13 (the day) becomes in numerology-land, 1+3, which = 4. Sparing you other details, I end up w/ the number “8” twice in my bag ‘o #s. If that weren’t enough for me, the year I’m turning 40, 2011, reduces in numerology-land to 2+0+1+1=4! Woo hoo! Such fourwardness of the numbers gave me all the reasons I needed, “for”s if you will, to begin my stock taking. I began, appropriately enough, well before the bday on the second day of February, or 2/2/2011.

Now, as the lovely Julie Andrews notes, u-hem… when you count you begin with 1, 2, 3…

My Birthday Numero Uno, awww yeah

/
——So, naturally I started here, @ bday #1…
\

…and it went on and on, and I found myself here @ 40:

Ok, so wasn’t aiming at tossing myself in the Total Perspective Vortex — so naturally in taking stock I surely found areas that need changing. I crafted a handy-dandy plan toward exaltation. But unlike our poor Icarus, who got burned, my own flight of fancy remains firmly rooted within the grooves of life here on earth. (Or, as I can much more efficiently say to anyone who speaks Buddhist: I clarified action items for more diligently pursuing/allowing to blossom right effort among other things on the path that emerges from the Noble Truthspointed out in Buddhism.)

And what exactly was my take-away? What did I gain out of this “taking stock at 40” thing?

Welp, it turns out it’s pretty basic: eat more fruits and veggies, be nice as much as possible, avoid people who aren’t or who make you want to not be nice, read a good book every now and then, and make a whole helluva lot more money! Easy peezy! Oh, there is one CRAZY challenge I discovered, though: getting my KIDS to eat more fruits & veggies! Ay yi yi! Well, if *I* do, that helps my chances on getting another 14,000 days, which definitely helps that endeavor. :-)

And now, for some completely other people’s birthdays.

1999, the birthday that MCAC & I co-celebrated in Mexico

Flight from SF to SD: $75 – Car to Mexico: $80 – Bringing back this singluar shot? Priceless

In this sunset picture: 4 dot com surfers, 2 life partners on left, 2 music partners on right; various configurations of housemates and co-workers between the 4. Neat-O!

 

“Yeah, whatever dude!”

2000, Colin’s 30th:

Matty V jocular, Colin sustains vigilence…

…that sustain’s still goin’…right?

Reeve, seriously

2002,RST’s 29th:

SVV BBF KCC RST

…four to end.

Thank you all 4 every minute of every moment 4 all the times that’s added up to these past 40 years and 40 more in store. I love you all madly, madly and will love you 4everrr!

:-)

(I *just* noticed the #s on the shirt! Doh! lol)

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Art, by Father Andson

The kids and I are lifer fans of the Toy Story movies…as well as everything from Pixar. A true, long-lasting, and dear friend works there and had both given us a tour and had us join him at a screening of the new one, Toy Story 3 actually AT Pixar a month before its general release. Yay!

He’d also informed me of some extra special cool things that had been done for the “Art of Pixar” exhibit that is currently at the Oakland Museum of California, near downtown Oakland.

So this past weekend the kids and I were excited when we headed out to go to check it out one afternoon, on a “Free Day” at the museum.

The sign “Pixar Sold Out” didn’t bode well on arrival, though. The ticket attendant informed me that the Pixar shows have a limited number of tickets that are gone within one hour on the free day when they have the exhibit. She added that the rest of the museum was still free, of course. I waited for the kids’ responses and they howled that they were psyched to go, anyway. Yay!

It’s divided into the Art of California and the History of California sections. We aimed at the Art part. There’s a lot to say about it, but for now will suffice with: from the entrance that features various tools of artists from chalk and brushes and pencils and clay to Apple computers and more to modern art by artists, here, to mid 19th Century landscape paintings, it’s chock full of goodness.

Within the area featuring portraits — from the 1800s to the present — they have this kiosk with a mirror and a screen on which you can use your fingers to make a self-portrait that comes out looking like a water-color. All the portraits done by visitors — if saved — are fed into a whole collection that then find their way to framed screens on a wall of other portraits by famous artists.

So my daughter did one, painstakingly. She’s 7 and very practiced and I s’ppose basically coming right along in her rendering and drafting skills. My son (who turned FIVE today!) cares less for representational drawing than for putting what he feels down on the medium.

As my daughter finished hers, museum staff informed us that we had only a few minutes until it closed. My son said he wanted to do one and started in, laying down a swath of color to serve as a base. When I gently reminded him we had about 5 minutes to do it, he looked at it and erased the color, saying he didn’t want to do it rushed.

I then started quickly laying down lines to do my own face which I figured I could spit out super fast.

No sooner had I made some blue lines for my face shape & ears and some brown lines for my eyes, than my son started adding to it! I have no idea as I write this whether his additions to the picture are supposed to be bits of a representation of his face or are commentary on me or my face or my act of trying to get one in real quick or what. As I was saving it, and it came time to name it, he told me to name it with his name. I told him that I had drawn a bit of me and that it was really more both of us together and that I wanted to name it “K&Son”. He thought for a sec, and cheerily exclaimed, “Ok!” and waited for it to then pop up on the public screen.

So there it is (see top of post again.) It’s way more expressive than anything I could have done by myself. Though I believe abstract expressionism is the ultimate of what can be done with the medium of painting, I am incapable of creating that sort of thing. My son, however, has a different connection to the ancient starry dynamo in the machinery of night than I do. And thank god for that. :-)

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Titular Poem

Originally posted Monday, October 29, 2007

Fatherhood Poetic

or:

A Young Gentleman’s Primer

Hi.

Well HOW are ya? I confess I think the title tells you everything you need to know about this blog, but here’s another ADD version: I became a dad 4 (now 7) years ago. Now I’m a dad twice over! And I’m getting divorced.

I’m over-educated, raised by a single mom who fights the good fight for public education teachers. My own dad I have not seen since 1994, and it had been since 1977 before that. He’s an artist. But more on him later. Though I was not ready in very particular ways for kids, I had a built-in component that bade me throw more or less my whole being into the task of fathering.

So the blog is what the title says.

In addition to the Greatest Hits of Fatherhood and Parenting in general that you likely know of — the unexpected detaching diaper! the kiddie’s first taste of ice-cream! the discovery of their own toes! (the coolness of seeing which is not to be understated), the raw animal realness of birth! the laughter! the tears! — my personal journey of fatherhood has included bonus features like The 1000-page book shredded by hand, the Night in Jail, the Fakest Voice in the World and oh, soooo many more. I will, of course, share Touching Moments, Light-Hearted Goofs, but this is more a forum for me to share the journey I’ve taken through the Archetypal Wonderland of 1000 Faces and to do so using various nifty toolboxes I’ve sort of informally combined and might call semiotical poetics. But tell me if you like poetical semiotics better. :-)

Into the Rabbit Hole we go…

I launch this Fatherhood blog with a poem I wrote for a friend who became a father as we neared the end of our time in college, a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away from Planet Here and Now. And yet….by the gift of being very close to this friend (“very close” I define as having logged a lot of hours together no where else but here and now) as he swam in those first few months that are life with a newborn, I thought about my dad, who bagged out, another friend’s dad, who did the same, and riffed on the names of this friend in question who’d just become a father and his girlfriend (the new mom, back in 1994).

for M and M & B

Fatherhood Poetic

Children come through you —
not from you.

When Jack the Heart-Hunter
heard his whole hell hoo-hoo’d
by Horace the Owl, whole
hoards of hessians hushed
as they rushed from his heart to
his head
and back again —

He was a father.

A generation of himself meshed
tighter than any chain with that
of his hitherto separate heart.
Yes, a new person is borne through
the ancient ancient canal — the original third eye
the vertical eye opens wide and
bears that new synthesis of
a thousand-fold previous syntheses.

He was a father.

“I’m not gonna be a dick” says he.
“Love always and forever” says he…
“our child our son…” he said.

[pause]

It’s not just a job, it’s a do —
only he can say to himself
“It’s your do and your job” — and be heard.

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