miss you, chester.
Showing posts with label miss you. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miss you. Show all posts
Monday, August 23, 2010
Thursday, December 3, 2009
the long hello
reader, the baron has been scarce around these parts lately; she doesn't really have good reason for it. lots and lots of things have happened since last she checked in - but she doesn't really have the energy to fashion them into a pithy story. instead, can she just recount them for you, list-style?
-the husband left for egypt on november 22. he's having a time ('a time' being the average between 'a good time' and 'a lousy time', which are the two poles the baron can glean from his emails) traipsing up and down the country. evidently there are donkeys everywhere, and he'd kind of like to bring one home.
-the brother came for thanksgiving, arriving the wednesday before and leaving the monday after. the baron had high hopes that she'd be able to entertain him, or at least muster up the energy to get up and out of the house, but not so much with either of those things. they mostly sat on the sofa, watching season 1 of 'dexter', which the brother brought to the baron and the husband as a gift. the baron, having so far dodged 'dexter', was surprised to find that she liked it, so much so that they bought season 2.
-the baron had the 20 week sonogram this past monday. the husband could not attend, but the brother was able to, and the baron was glad: she did not want to go to the appointment alone, particularly when such big news was to be revealed. reader, the baron and the husband will soon be parents to a baby boy. yes, they have a name. no, they will not tell you. they think it's jinxy to share it just now.
-the baron and the husband have settled on their new car, though the purchase of this car is postponed until the husband is back from his trip. the baron, though she likes the honda pilot, is still having a hard time with its cost. and gas mileage. and size. and also, the husband? what's wrong with the crv again? can't we revisit it?
-the baron is lonely. or specifically, the baron is missing the husband, and the missing him makes her feel very, very lonely. internet connectivity is, evidently, spotty in egypt, so she's heard from him only intermittently. thus, she's been rereading some of their email exchanges, both from this trip and before, just to have a little electronic taste of him in absence of the real thing. the husband has a facebook page, and from it he sent her the below list of 25 things that he reported about himself. she likes reading these things about the husband, partly because she likes seeing him as he sees himself, and partly because she believes it's a supremely accurate representation of his awesomeness. read on to see for yourself:
1. I love a good fight. More precisely, I enjoy conflict -- especially a verbal argument that forces me to think about my position on something and have to defend my beliefs. Conflict is growth and the foundation of all natural processes. It isn't a bad thing. And I rarely care if I “win” the fight. I do get snarky when the fight is trivial and not worth it.
2. I was an avid reader until college beat it out of me. I still like to read, but not as much as my wife would like me to. New Yorker magazine helps as I am reluctant to pick up modern fiction and would rather keep rereading classics like a dork.
3. Used to blame PG county schools for a negative disposition towards public education –I would spend the odd (3,5, 7, 9, 11 ) years in TAG (Talented and Gifted) classes, and the even years in SLRD (Slow Learning and Reading Disabled) from elementary to high school. There was no “normal kid” class and I bounced from one end to the other because I tested well but was disruptive. As an adult, I realized this pendulum affords one variety and a depth of understanding most don’t have opportunity to see. Read – I can see from many perspectives.
4. I am physically clumsy, mostly because my mind and body tend to do separate functions (ask any drummer about this) at the same time. I was persistently clumsy as a youngin’ – so much so that a lot of what parents and teachers thought was “acting out” was in reality accidental mindlessness. It earned me a reputation as a temperamental and destructive person, which helped keep people from criticizing me for my clumsiness. So…it kinda works for me.
5. Went vegetarian in 1990 in part due to poverty, animal rights, bad memories of my mother's cooking and a faint idea of right behavior (reading a lot of Thoreau and watching Taxi Driver will do that). I went Vegan in 1992 for same reasons but with more education due to animal growth hormones in dairy as well as understanding of dairy industry practices. I am still vegan and keep finding things in diet that aren’t (Curse you Guinness!). I don’t lecture people or judge them on their choice to eat meat or not. It is antithetical to my beliefs to think I have a right to tell another person what they can do with their body (outside of not using it to hit me).
6. Never thought I would live past 18 -- those who knew me in high school know why. If not, read number 1 and number 4. Seriously, all this life since then is butter.
7. Was an altar boy and very religious until 12 when I became frustrated arguing with the dogmatic speeches of priests instead of having a dialogue with the church. Never had questions answered and have been more engaged in Taoism as a belief system for the past 15 years. For me, religious experience is about finding the right answers to the right questions and not about dogmatic repetition of unoriginal thoughts that are then used to judge others and limit how they use their time on the planet.
8. I grew up in Japan before moving to MD when I was 7. I have always had an affinity for Japan. I have a tendency to move at least every 2 years. This somehow answers a need for curiosity, but becomes costly. I now just accumulate more homes each time I move. (I am so looking forward to my tax rebate – that stuff is all deductible).
9. Lived in San Francisco and would live there again if could afford it. It is, in my opinion, the best city in the United States.
10. Want to retire to Samos ,Greece, were my grandmother came from. I can’t read, write or speak Greek. That stuff is hard! But am willing to learn to live an agrarian life on my own little farm with orange trees and goats.
11. I have been shot, stabbed, hit by cars, beaten by gangs with bats, struck by bottles and cigarettes thrown from vehicles and had an all around joy of being alive. I can laugh at all these things and isolate their occurrences from the individuals involved as part of what it means to be in the human experience. Most likely, I had all of those things coming anyhow.
12. I have totaled 6 cars so far...reference item number 4. (Don’t let me borrow your car.)
13. Been fired from more places than most people work in a lifetime. All non-professional service industry jobs. To name a few: Brass Duck, 7-11 (seriously, 7 –11), Shoneys, Red Lobster, Bennigans and an auto salvage yard. Reference topics 1 and 4.
14. I broke my arm when I was 4. I was on the swing in the playground when the teacher announced it was snack time. I slid off the swing at its apogee about 12 feet in the air and landed against a pole. I flattened another kid and broke his leg. Not my greatest moment and I never got that snack.
15. I love my job. I worked professionally in the private sector and was miserable. I believe in the value of civil service, the mission of my agency and my efforts. I think have the best job in my office because I can be creative, proactive, engaged and involved in a lot of things that really affect other people. If I do my job right, it affects them in a positive way.
16. Knew I wanted to be with woman who is my wife moment I met her. (She wishes to remain anonymous on the Internet, though) She, however, was not initially so certain of my particular value. She thought of me as that kid who talked too much and should go get a room with his beloved James Joyce and leave the rest of the class to discuss real topics. I won her over with Pez during the final exams. They’re vegan, sorta.
17. I really like and respect my parents. They are incredibly good people. I am always shocked when I think of how smart, caring and law-abiding they are. Sometimes I think they adopted me and I didn’t deserve parents that good.
18. My greatest fear is being homeless (again). I was on and off homeless for several years after high school and into college (house rule was out at 18 and be an adult). I spent months living at my job (where I didn’t get fired from) and out of my van (which I parked on the Mall and not down by the river) and friends' homes. This was not so dire for a young man who thought he was living a near ascetic life of a Taoist monk. But as I grew older it all just got too annoying. (That and having to use campus rec centers for all your hygiene needs will cause you to make a lot of new friends you really don’t want). But it isn't the fear of losing everything, which I have done many times, it is the fear of letting down those who depend on me that scares me.
19. I am happiest when playing music. Even if it is bad music. I can get lost in time and thought just playing the drums.
20. I am most comfortable in chaos. Order disturbs me. Limits and boundaries seem arbitrarily imposed when I don't feel as if I had any participation in their establishment. This may be a juvenile sentiment, but the philosophical extraction is that order imposed is tyranny. And therefore open for revolt. Chaos is disorganized revolt and only the truly organized can find meaning and direction…
21. I rarely get sick and I get very little sleep. I get injured a lot, but that natural disconnect between mind and body lets me not think of the pain or recognize a serious injury until my wife makes me go see a doctor. Although last year I had trigeminal neuralgia which was total crap to deal with. They gave me dilaudid, oxycontin and valium for a week. I was not very productive.
22. I have traveled a lot. Personally, professionally – there are few places in the US I haven’t gone through. Seriously. I have yet to finish South America and Asia, have yet to go to Africa and India, When I travel for fun I backpack and don’t know where I will end up…which is why the wife goes on separate vacations to nice destinations.
23. I believe in all rights for all creatures, so this means animal rights, human rights, civil rights, gay rights, religious rights, whatever. So long as another person’s practice doesn’t prey on the rest, then they should have equal rights under the law.
24. I alternate between simplicity and over complication in art and appreciation -- My favorites are Burroughs and Bukowski, along with Joyce and Shakespeare; The Stooges and the Misfits, along with Brian Eno and Stereolab; Picasso and Matisse, along with Howard Finster and "found objects". It isn't that odd-- if it is straightforward it has to have a lot of energy to affect the body; if it is obtuse, it should spark the other parts of the brain that don't get regular exercise.
25. My family is my everything, Sounds lame, but they are my reason why. And I am lucky to have them….the ever growing lot of wife, dogs, cat … donkey? goat? potbellied pig?
-the husband left for egypt on november 22. he's having a time ('a time' being the average between 'a good time' and 'a lousy time', which are the two poles the baron can glean from his emails) traipsing up and down the country. evidently there are donkeys everywhere, and he'd kind of like to bring one home.
-the brother came for thanksgiving, arriving the wednesday before and leaving the monday after. the baron had high hopes that she'd be able to entertain him, or at least muster up the energy to get up and out of the house, but not so much with either of those things. they mostly sat on the sofa, watching season 1 of 'dexter', which the brother brought to the baron and the husband as a gift. the baron, having so far dodged 'dexter', was surprised to find that she liked it, so much so that they bought season 2.
-the baron had the 20 week sonogram this past monday. the husband could not attend, but the brother was able to, and the baron was glad: she did not want to go to the appointment alone, particularly when such big news was to be revealed. reader, the baron and the husband will soon be parents to a baby boy. yes, they have a name. no, they will not tell you. they think it's jinxy to share it just now.
-the baron and the husband have settled on their new car, though the purchase of this car is postponed until the husband is back from his trip. the baron, though she likes the honda pilot, is still having a hard time with its cost. and gas mileage. and size. and also, the husband? what's wrong with the crv again? can't we revisit it?
-the baron is lonely. or specifically, the baron is missing the husband, and the missing him makes her feel very, very lonely. internet connectivity is, evidently, spotty in egypt, so she's heard from him only intermittently. thus, she's been rereading some of their email exchanges, both from this trip and before, just to have a little electronic taste of him in absence of the real thing. the husband has a facebook page, and from it he sent her the below list of 25 things that he reported about himself. she likes reading these things about the husband, partly because she likes seeing him as he sees himself, and partly because she believes it's a supremely accurate representation of his awesomeness. read on to see for yourself:
1. I love a good fight. More precisely, I enjoy conflict -- especially a verbal argument that forces me to think about my position on something and have to defend my beliefs. Conflict is growth and the foundation of all natural processes. It isn't a bad thing. And I rarely care if I “win” the fight. I do get snarky when the fight is trivial and not worth it.
2. I was an avid reader until college beat it out of me. I still like to read, but not as much as my wife would like me to. New Yorker magazine helps as I am reluctant to pick up modern fiction and would rather keep rereading classics like a dork.
3. Used to blame PG county schools for a negative disposition towards public education –I would spend the odd (3,5, 7, 9, 11 ) years in TAG (Talented and Gifted) classes, and the even years in SLRD (Slow Learning and Reading Disabled) from elementary to high school. There was no “normal kid” class and I bounced from one end to the other because I tested well but was disruptive. As an adult, I realized this pendulum affords one variety and a depth of understanding most don’t have opportunity to see. Read – I can see from many perspectives.
4. I am physically clumsy, mostly because my mind and body tend to do separate functions (ask any drummer about this) at the same time. I was persistently clumsy as a youngin’ – so much so that a lot of what parents and teachers thought was “acting out” was in reality accidental mindlessness. It earned me a reputation as a temperamental and destructive person, which helped keep people from criticizing me for my clumsiness. So…it kinda works for me.
5. Went vegetarian in 1990 in part due to poverty, animal rights, bad memories of my mother's cooking and a faint idea of right behavior (reading a lot of Thoreau and watching Taxi Driver will do that). I went Vegan in 1992 for same reasons but with more education due to animal growth hormones in dairy as well as understanding of dairy industry practices. I am still vegan and keep finding things in diet that aren’t (Curse you Guinness!). I don’t lecture people or judge them on their choice to eat meat or not. It is antithetical to my beliefs to think I have a right to tell another person what they can do with their body (outside of not using it to hit me).
6. Never thought I would live past 18 -- those who knew me in high school know why. If not, read number 1 and number 4. Seriously, all this life since then is butter.
7. Was an altar boy and very religious until 12 when I became frustrated arguing with the dogmatic speeches of priests instead of having a dialogue with the church. Never had questions answered and have been more engaged in Taoism as a belief system for the past 15 years. For me, religious experience is about finding the right answers to the right questions and not about dogmatic repetition of unoriginal thoughts that are then used to judge others and limit how they use their time on the planet.
8. I grew up in Japan before moving to MD when I was 7. I have always had an affinity for Japan. I have a tendency to move at least every 2 years. This somehow answers a need for curiosity, but becomes costly. I now just accumulate more homes each time I move. (I am so looking forward to my tax rebate – that stuff is all deductible).
9. Lived in San Francisco and would live there again if could afford it. It is, in my opinion, the best city in the United States.
10. Want to retire to Samos ,Greece, were my grandmother came from. I can’t read, write or speak Greek. That stuff is hard! But am willing to learn to live an agrarian life on my own little farm with orange trees and goats.
11. I have been shot, stabbed, hit by cars, beaten by gangs with bats, struck by bottles and cigarettes thrown from vehicles and had an all around joy of being alive. I can laugh at all these things and isolate their occurrences from the individuals involved as part of what it means to be in the human experience. Most likely, I had all of those things coming anyhow.
12. I have totaled 6 cars so far...reference item number 4. (Don’t let me borrow your car.)
13. Been fired from more places than most people work in a lifetime. All non-professional service industry jobs. To name a few: Brass Duck, 7-11 (seriously, 7 –11), Shoneys, Red Lobster, Bennigans and an auto salvage yard. Reference topics 1 and 4.
14. I broke my arm when I was 4. I was on the swing in the playground when the teacher announced it was snack time. I slid off the swing at its apogee about 12 feet in the air and landed against a pole. I flattened another kid and broke his leg. Not my greatest moment and I never got that snack.
15. I love my job. I worked professionally in the private sector and was miserable. I believe in the value of civil service, the mission of my agency and my efforts. I think have the best job in my office because I can be creative, proactive, engaged and involved in a lot of things that really affect other people. If I do my job right, it affects them in a positive way.
16. Knew I wanted to be with woman who is my wife moment I met her. (She wishes to remain anonymous on the Internet, though) She, however, was not initially so certain of my particular value. She thought of me as that kid who talked too much and should go get a room with his beloved James Joyce and leave the rest of the class to discuss real topics. I won her over with Pez during the final exams. They’re vegan, sorta.
17. I really like and respect my parents. They are incredibly good people. I am always shocked when I think of how smart, caring and law-abiding they are. Sometimes I think they adopted me and I didn’t deserve parents that good.
18. My greatest fear is being homeless (again). I was on and off homeless for several years after high school and into college (house rule was out at 18 and be an adult). I spent months living at my job (where I didn’t get fired from) and out of my van (which I parked on the Mall and not down by the river) and friends' homes. This was not so dire for a young man who thought he was living a near ascetic life of a Taoist monk. But as I grew older it all just got too annoying. (That and having to use campus rec centers for all your hygiene needs will cause you to make a lot of new friends you really don’t want). But it isn't the fear of losing everything, which I have done many times, it is the fear of letting down those who depend on me that scares me.
19. I am happiest when playing music. Even if it is bad music. I can get lost in time and thought just playing the drums.
20. I am most comfortable in chaos. Order disturbs me. Limits and boundaries seem arbitrarily imposed when I don't feel as if I had any participation in their establishment. This may be a juvenile sentiment, but the philosophical extraction is that order imposed is tyranny. And therefore open for revolt. Chaos is disorganized revolt and only the truly organized can find meaning and direction…
21. I rarely get sick and I get very little sleep. I get injured a lot, but that natural disconnect between mind and body lets me not think of the pain or recognize a serious injury until my wife makes me go see a doctor. Although last year I had trigeminal neuralgia which was total crap to deal with. They gave me dilaudid, oxycontin and valium for a week. I was not very productive.
22. I have traveled a lot. Personally, professionally – there are few places in the US I haven’t gone through. Seriously. I have yet to finish South America and Asia, have yet to go to Africa and India, When I travel for fun I backpack and don’t know where I will end up…which is why the wife goes on separate vacations to nice destinations.
23. I believe in all rights for all creatures, so this means animal rights, human rights, civil rights, gay rights, religious rights, whatever. So long as another person’s practice doesn’t prey on the rest, then they should have equal rights under the law.
24. I alternate between simplicity and over complication in art and appreciation -- My favorites are Burroughs and Bukowski, along with Joyce and Shakespeare; The Stooges and the Misfits, along with Brian Eno and Stereolab; Picasso and Matisse, along with Howard Finster and "found objects". It isn't that odd-- if it is straightforward it has to have a lot of energy to affect the body; if it is obtuse, it should spark the other parts of the brain that don't get regular exercise.
25. My family is my everything, Sounds lame, but they are my reason why. And I am lucky to have them….the ever growing lot of wife, dogs, cat … donkey? goat? potbellied pig?
Monday, June 22, 2009
the long goodbye
reader, some of you know that the brother was recently here for a week's visit, having called the baron 6 days before his date of arrival to say, 'hey. i have a week off. can i come visit?' the baron and the husband were - of course! - delighted that the brother chose to spend his free week with them... he is, after all, a super easy house guest, requiring essentially no entertaining; more often than not, they'd find him in the sun room, deep into his book.
the baron became quite accustomed to having the brother there, seeing him at lunch and cooking for three at dinner. he is, as ever, good company, sober and silly and sentimental and spiritual all wrapped up into one really tall package. the only drawback to having him there came when he and the husband would jointly decide to rebuff the baron's requests. her personality, though forceful, is not enough to overcome the likes of this (their response to her request to take a picture of the two of them):
the husband: really?
the brother: come on, the baron, do we have to?
the husband: he's too tall. i'll have to stand on a stump...
the brother: hey, you know what we should do? we should do it like in 'lord of the rings', like gandalf and frodo!
the brother: i'll stand back here...
the husband: ok.
the brother: lemme see that picture.
the husband: that is great!
the brother: that's so good! it's exactly right!
(hearty laughs all around. the baron did not participate, but could be heard to mutter, 'stupid'.)
the week's visit passed too quickly, as all good things do, and the brother left last thursday. *sniff, sniff.
the baron became quite accustomed to having the brother there, seeing him at lunch and cooking for three at dinner. he is, as ever, good company, sober and silly and sentimental and spiritual all wrapped up into one really tall package. the only drawback to having him there came when he and the husband would jointly decide to rebuff the baron's requests. her personality, though forceful, is not enough to overcome the likes of this (their response to her request to take a picture of the two of them):
the husband: really?
the brother: come on, the baron, do we have to?
the husband: he's too tall. i'll have to stand on a stump...
the brother: hey, you know what we should do? we should do it like in 'lord of the rings', like gandalf and frodo!
the brother: i'll stand back here...the husband: ok.
the brother: lemme see that picture.the husband: that is great!
the brother: that's so good! it's exactly right!
(hearty laughs all around. the baron did not participate, but could be heard to mutter, 'stupid'.)
the week's visit passed too quickly, as all good things do, and the brother left last thursday. *sniff, sniff.
Friday, May 15, 2009
a tale of two matheys
reader, you may recall that the baron recently went home for a week.
while there, her mother (from now on, 'the mother') tried to get a photo of the baron and jonathan.
the mother's results were not entirely successful... neither child really wanted to participate in the picture-taking, and the mother couldn't really work out the camera's finer points (like auto-focus).
see the fruits of her labor, below.
while there, her mother (from now on, 'the mother') tried to get a photo of the baron and jonathan.
the mother's results were not entirely successful... neither child really wanted to participate in the picture-taking, and the mother couldn't really work out the camera's finer points (like auto-focus).
see the fruits of her labor, below.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
musings on her father, or, keeping the tradition alive
reader, the baron is very excited for tomorrow's release of the new 'star trek' movie. even though she's been referring to it in her mind as 'star trek: the tiger beat version', and even though she is annoyed by all the young, young actors in it*, and even though jj abrams went and uglied up eric bana for no good reason... in spite of all these things, the baron is, as the 1998 version of herself would say, totally psyched!
she loves 'star trek', the original one, with kirk and spock and bones and scottie and chekov and sulu and even that mostly useless uhura. she loves all the movies, even the 'wrath of khan', and especially the one where they end up in modern-day san francisco? the one with the whales? she even loves 'star trek: the next generation', a series that she watched until almost the end, when the characters had evolved so far from their original selves that she had long since lost the ability to understand or relate to them.
she's not the type of fan who can quote the films back to you, or the type who knows every epsiode by heart. she would refer to herself, in the right company, as a trekkie... but not a TREKKIE, if you get her drift. and anyway, what's not to love? 'start trek', at least the two television series that she watched (after 'the next generation', she kind of gave up on it), took place in a mostly idyllic setting, where mankind had magically not destroyed the planet or itself. where practically any kind of food could be produced, whole, from a replicator (lamb tonight? no problem, and guilt free! no baby animals were slaughtered for your meal!). where the big issues were solved in one hour, two at the most. and really, who doesn't want his or her own holodeck? indeed, the 'star trek' universe was pretty heady stuff for the baron, stuff she's never quite gotten over.
and also.
her father loved 'star trek'. he always did like a good escapist novel or film, but 'star trek' was special. so special that - as the baron has told a few people this week - he used to skive off work on the opening day of a new 'star trek' movie to catch the day's first showing. later on, when the baron and the brother were older, he would take them too... though, no skipping school for them. the baron never quite knew exactly why her father was so excited about these films, or what spoke to him from the screen. she never knew if he saw himself reflected in kirk or spock or bones, or if he liked the subtlety of direction, or if he had had, since youth, a yen for space travel. they weren't really chatty in that way, the baron and her father.
so.
what she's left with are her memories of coming home from school the afternoon that a 'star trek' film opened to find: leftover popcorn on the kitchen counter (back in the days when popcorn came in bags, not buckets; her father could never finish a large bag himself); her father ready to share his very cursory review of the film; and the lingering feeling that something special had happened that day.
so.
the baron, being rather desperate to remember her father any and every way she can, will see 'star trek: the tiger beat version' tomorrow with the husband; new traditions and all that. she'll hope for a transformative feeling, one to remind her of childhood, before things got heavy. she'll pay a little homage to her father - maybe with a large popcorn - and try to imagine what he would have seen on the screen, what his review of the film would have sounded like.
she can actually imagine it now, what he might say after sitting through nearly two hours of film, the whole movie boiled down to this: 'those kids sure seem young.'
*(these actors are not, it should be noted, actually very young at all. the baron is probably just bothered that, for the first time in her life-long relationship with star trek, she is approximately the same age as the players on the screen. which makes her feel old.)
she loves 'star trek', the original one, with kirk and spock and bones and scottie and chekov and sulu and even that mostly useless uhura. she loves all the movies, even the 'wrath of khan', and especially the one where they end up in modern-day san francisco? the one with the whales? she even loves 'star trek: the next generation', a series that she watched until almost the end, when the characters had evolved so far from their original selves that she had long since lost the ability to understand or relate to them.
she's not the type of fan who can quote the films back to you, or the type who knows every epsiode by heart. she would refer to herself, in the right company, as a trekkie... but not a TREKKIE, if you get her drift. and anyway, what's not to love? 'start trek', at least the two television series that she watched (after 'the next generation', she kind of gave up on it), took place in a mostly idyllic setting, where mankind had magically not destroyed the planet or itself. where practically any kind of food could be produced, whole, from a replicator (lamb tonight? no problem, and guilt free! no baby animals were slaughtered for your meal!). where the big issues were solved in one hour, two at the most. and really, who doesn't want his or her own holodeck? indeed, the 'star trek' universe was pretty heady stuff for the baron, stuff she's never quite gotten over.
and also.
her father loved 'star trek'. he always did like a good escapist novel or film, but 'star trek' was special. so special that - as the baron has told a few people this week - he used to skive off work on the opening day of a new 'star trek' movie to catch the day's first showing. later on, when the baron and the brother were older, he would take them too... though, no skipping school for them. the baron never quite knew exactly why her father was so excited about these films, or what spoke to him from the screen. she never knew if he saw himself reflected in kirk or spock or bones, or if he liked the subtlety of direction, or if he had had, since youth, a yen for space travel. they weren't really chatty in that way, the baron and her father.
so.
what she's left with are her memories of coming home from school the afternoon that a 'star trek' film opened to find: leftover popcorn on the kitchen counter (back in the days when popcorn came in bags, not buckets; her father could never finish a large bag himself); her father ready to share his very cursory review of the film; and the lingering feeling that something special had happened that day.
so.
the baron, being rather desperate to remember her father any and every way she can, will see 'star trek: the tiger beat version' tomorrow with the husband; new traditions and all that. she'll hope for a transformative feeling, one to remind her of childhood, before things got heavy. she'll pay a little homage to her father - maybe with a large popcorn - and try to imagine what he would have seen on the screen, what his review of the film would have sounded like.
she can actually imagine it now, what he might say after sitting through nearly two hours of film, the whole movie boiled down to this: 'those kids sure seem young.'
*(these actors are not, it should be noted, actually very young at all. the baron is probably just bothered that, for the first time in her life-long relationship with star trek, she is approximately the same age as the players on the screen. which makes her feel old.)
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
change, or, you can't go back, but it's nice to visit
as she mentioned earlier this week, the baron is visiting her family and friends in california. she's staying in her childhood home in riverside, where her mother and brother still live.
though very few things have changed inside the house, the baron has noticed them all, each one an affront to her memory: that new bathroom tile? those area rugs? the jigsaw puzzle on the dining room table - since when does her mother do jigsaw puzzles? outside the house, even fewer things are different, but she spotted them too: the lavender is three feet tall now, and was there always a purple rose bush in the rose garden? the lantana has been shaped into a severe hedge, the olive trees have been trimmed to their nubs, and the lemon tree is square (really, a square, and really, it's weird).
------------------
the baron woke up just past 6:00 this morning, bullied into a corner of the bed by her mother's two tiny dogs (combined weight: 24 lbs). she pushed her way back to the center of the bed and tried to get back to sleep, but the sun - and the fragrance of orange blossoms - conspired to keep her awake. she decided to take a walk, an easy one around her neighborhood, through the streets, up to the shopping center, and back again. she had made this walk many, many, MANY times in her previous life, usually with a boy, and once when she was very drunk. in those days, before cell phones and the reinvention of apple, the baron took this walk with no distraction but the sights; today, she had her nano and the playlist from her new life.
it turned out, vampire weekend and modest mouse, the roots and the ramones were kind of inappropriate for her walk, reminders of the gym, and the husband, and maryland; she wanted something with a sublime feel to it, something easy and fun, something like the beach boys (but maybe not so pop as the beach boys). she scrolled through the playlist until she found something that felt suitable for the early sunshine, the morning's version of the gloaming hour. reader, she settled on pavement:
(isn't there something so great about pavement? something really californian about the music?)
with the perfectly appropriate soundtrack, the walk this morning gave the baron an opportunity to reflect on her childhood neighborhood, and reader, things have changed there too. she passed houses she used to know, or rather, houses that were once inhabited by families she used to know: the hymans, the avellas, the kennedys, the goldsteins, ms. farley's place. she's not sure how many of those families remain, the children having moved beyond riverside, the parents perhaps having moved to smaller houses, other towns. this saddened the baron, thinking about the change that had passed through the neighborhood - called canyon crest - that had once been the center of her life, changes that she had not even been witness to. changes that she had not even known were coming!
the streets on her walk reflected the change: every yard (really! every yard!) she passed was perfectly tended, perfectly manicured, a riot of color and growth. she saw outdoor patios, home additions, outdoor entry rooms, low stone walls and lots of bmws. she also saw many people walking dogs, enjoying the day before the heat set in, clutching a leash in one hand and a plastic bag (some empty, some full) in the other. these people, with their dogs, seemed happy to the baron. most likely, they had not noticed the changes, or, they were the change and did not know it.
the baron's walk was just 2 miles - if even that - and soon the she was back at her mother's house. the morning was still cool, but the forecast called for an 85 degree day. she came up the driveway, past her brother's truck (the one that had been their father's last and favorite auto purchase), past the squared-off lemon tree, past the lantana hedge, past the tiny birdhouses that decorate the path to the front door (these birdhouses? a new addition to the front walkway). she kicked off her shoes and was greeted by 24 lbs of fawn colored chihuahua and black and tan mutt. soon, thinking about coffee, and a shower, and breakfast, the baron's walk - and the sadness - was pushed to the back of her mind.
though very few things have changed inside the house, the baron has noticed them all, each one an affront to her memory: that new bathroom tile? those area rugs? the jigsaw puzzle on the dining room table - since when does her mother do jigsaw puzzles? outside the house, even fewer things are different, but she spotted them too: the lavender is three feet tall now, and was there always a purple rose bush in the rose garden? the lantana has been shaped into a severe hedge, the olive trees have been trimmed to their nubs, and the lemon tree is square (really, a square, and really, it's weird).
------------------
the baron woke up just past 6:00 this morning, bullied into a corner of the bed by her mother's two tiny dogs (combined weight: 24 lbs). she pushed her way back to the center of the bed and tried to get back to sleep, but the sun - and the fragrance of orange blossoms - conspired to keep her awake. she decided to take a walk, an easy one around her neighborhood, through the streets, up to the shopping center, and back again. she had made this walk many, many, MANY times in her previous life, usually with a boy, and once when she was very drunk. in those days, before cell phones and the reinvention of apple, the baron took this walk with no distraction but the sights; today, she had her nano and the playlist from her new life.
it turned out, vampire weekend and modest mouse, the roots and the ramones were kind of inappropriate for her walk, reminders of the gym, and the husband, and maryland; she wanted something with a sublime feel to it, something easy and fun, something like the beach boys (but maybe not so pop as the beach boys). she scrolled through the playlist until she found something that felt suitable for the early sunshine, the morning's version of the gloaming hour. reader, she settled on pavement:
(isn't there something so great about pavement? something really californian about the music?)
with the perfectly appropriate soundtrack, the walk this morning gave the baron an opportunity to reflect on her childhood neighborhood, and reader, things have changed there too. she passed houses she used to know, or rather, houses that were once inhabited by families she used to know: the hymans, the avellas, the kennedys, the goldsteins, ms. farley's place. she's not sure how many of those families remain, the children having moved beyond riverside, the parents perhaps having moved to smaller houses, other towns. this saddened the baron, thinking about the change that had passed through the neighborhood - called canyon crest - that had once been the center of her life, changes that she had not even been witness to. changes that she had not even known were coming!
the streets on her walk reflected the change: every yard (really! every yard!) she passed was perfectly tended, perfectly manicured, a riot of color and growth. she saw outdoor patios, home additions, outdoor entry rooms, low stone walls and lots of bmws. she also saw many people walking dogs, enjoying the day before the heat set in, clutching a leash in one hand and a plastic bag (some empty, some full) in the other. these people, with their dogs, seemed happy to the baron. most likely, they had not noticed the changes, or, they were the change and did not know it.
the baron's walk was just 2 miles - if even that - and soon the she was back at her mother's house. the morning was still cool, but the forecast called for an 85 degree day. she came up the driveway, past her brother's truck (the one that had been their father's last and favorite auto purchase), past the squared-off lemon tree, past the lantana hedge, past the tiny birdhouses that decorate the path to the front door (these birdhouses? a new addition to the front walkway). she kicked off her shoes and was greeted by 24 lbs of fawn colored chihuahua and black and tan mutt. soon, thinking about coffee, and a shower, and breakfast, the baron's walk - and the sadness - was pushed to the back of her mind.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
dinner without the husband
last week, the husband traveled to texas for a conference. he was gone the entire week, which meant that:
-there was much less laundry for the baron to do
-the baron stayed up past her usual 8pm bedtime to let the dogs out every night
-the baron rose much earlier every morning to let the dogs out - and to feed them breakfast
-the baron had no one to cook for... so she had a series of lazy gal's meals (see the salad below)
that's lettuce, alfalfa sprouts, chickpeas, pepperoncinis, cherry tomatoes, and dried bing cherries, doused in olive oil and red wine vinegar. yummy yummy yum.
the baron has decided that salads are an amazing dinner choice because after the meal, there's only one dish to wash! true, the cutlery would need to be washed as well, but reader, at the end of a salad night one would have no more than 5 pieces of kitchenware to attend to!
did the baron mention, she hates washing dishes? so much so that she'll use the same water glass over and over again, for days, so she won't have to wash it?
when the husband is home, he does the dishes (not all the time, but most of the time, and YES the baron knows how lucky she is in this regard). when he's gone, the baron tries to mitigate her dish use. it's a fairly juvenile way to live. she knows it.
-there was much less laundry for the baron to do
-the baron stayed up past her usual 8pm bedtime to let the dogs out every night
-the baron rose much earlier every morning to let the dogs out - and to feed them breakfast
-the baron had no one to cook for... so she had a series of lazy gal's meals (see the salad below)
that's lettuce, alfalfa sprouts, chickpeas, pepperoncinis, cherry tomatoes, and dried bing cherries, doused in olive oil and red wine vinegar. yummy yummy yum.
the baron has decided that salads are an amazing dinner choice because after the meal, there's only one dish to wash! true, the cutlery would need to be washed as well, but reader, at the end of a salad night one would have no more than 5 pieces of kitchenware to attend to!
did the baron mention, she hates washing dishes? so much so that she'll use the same water glass over and over again, for days, so she won't have to wash it?
when the husband is home, he does the dishes (not all the time, but most of the time, and YES the baron knows how lucky she is in this regard). when he's gone, the baron tries to mitigate her dish use. it's a fairly juvenile way to live. she knows it.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
out like a lamb, or, an open letter from the baron to her friend laura
hello laura,
how right you were about march coming in like a lion (with a snow storm that began on march 2) and going out like a lamb! the weather today is gorgeous - totally sunny, a little breezy, and in the low 60's. i must admit, i thought that old adage was trite b.s., and so had never paid much attention to march's comings and goings, but i will probably do so from now on... after all, it was spot-on this time, and won't it be interesting to see if it's as spot-on next year?
in other news, i'm getting pretty excited about coming west - even the idea of las vegas for three days is growing on me. in preparation for all the pool-side relaxing i plan to do, i spent the better part of this morning waxing my legs, and, er, the other bits that should be hairless for the wearing of bathing suits. about las vegas, though, i've been thinking: don't you feel the time is right for a new tatoo? i do, and - even though i made you promise to stop me getting any more after that costa rica-induced one - i feel like this trip should be commemorated with something small, somewhere hidden. think it over... but, if you're wondering, i already know the 'what' and the 'where'.
friend, be good. i will see you soon.
-the baron
how right you were about march coming in like a lion (with a snow storm that began on march 2) and going out like a lamb! the weather today is gorgeous - totally sunny, a little breezy, and in the low 60's. i must admit, i thought that old adage was trite b.s., and so had never paid much attention to march's comings and goings, but i will probably do so from now on... after all, it was spot-on this time, and won't it be interesting to see if it's as spot-on next year?
in other news, i'm getting pretty excited about coming west - even the idea of las vegas for three days is growing on me. in preparation for all the pool-side relaxing i plan to do, i spent the better part of this morning waxing my legs, and, er, the other bits that should be hairless for the wearing of bathing suits. about las vegas, though, i've been thinking: don't you feel the time is right for a new tatoo? i do, and - even though i made you promise to stop me getting any more after that costa rica-induced one - i feel like this trip should be commemorated with something small, somewhere hidden. think it over... but, if you're wondering, i already know the 'what' and the 'where'.
friend, be good. i will see you soon.
-the baron
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
march 2, 2009
the baron, even after so many years away from her beloved california, still anticipates spring with the first of march. march calls to her mind the scent memory of orange blossoms; her childhood home - the one where her mother still lives - is two streets over from acres and acres of orange groves... every spring, as the blossoms open and fill the air with the rich scent of orange, the steady buzz of bees is all around. spring in riverside is a tricky time - warm during the days, but very cool in the evenings... in her pre-teen youth, in the springtime evenings, the baron would sit by her open bedroom window, enveloped by both an agatha christie plot and the heavenly smell of those orange blossoms.
so.
march in maryland? not so much.
these were taken monday morning, and while the dogs seem to be having the BEST TIME EVER, the baron was keenly missing the buzz of bees all around.
so.
march in maryland? not so much.
these were taken monday morning, and while the dogs seem to be having the BEST TIME EVER, the baron was keenly missing the buzz of bees all around.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
surprised? the baron is too.
today the baron is thinking about riverside, california, where she grew up.
this morning, when insomnia hit her, between the hours of 3 and 5 a.m., the baron remembered the sandwich shop very close to her childhood home, located in a sweet shopping area nostalgically called the town center. the town center, in addition to this sandwich shop, is also home to a coffee shop (locally owned and operated), a bagel shop (locally owned and operated), a children's book store (locally owned and operated), and various other shops and eateries.
not all the shops at the town center are locally owned and operated - there's recently a starbucks there, as well as a rite aid - but the flavor of the place, to the baron, remains undiluted by these nationwide chains.
from the town center, her mind wandered westward, toward riverside's oldest neighborhoods, some of which are in dire need of some tlc, a few of which host some really amazing manors, the likes of which are no longer built. that's maybe her favorite part of town, at least for the aesthetics... the houses are rambling and beautiful, and sit on huge lots. she often wishes she owned and lived in one, right at the base of mount rubidoux.
from there, she thought over to the university of california at riverside, a campus that is apparently booming. she thought about the one big mall in town, called the galleria at tyler, and about how her first job was at a bookstore there. she thought about downtown, about the christmas lights at the mission inn, and about the central library, and about the barbeque place across the street from both of them, a spot she frequented in her pre-vegetarian years.
reader, this morning, between 3 and 5 a.m., the baron thought over all her favorite parts of riverside, and you know what? she experienced a jarring realization.
she misses riverside.
she had been saying, lo' these years, that she misses california, but the truth is she misses riverside. in her teens and early twenties, she thought that the town center, and the mall, and the library and riverside's quaint downtown were consipiring to suffocate her, literally choking the breath right out of her, so badly did she want to escape. she rejected riverside, and california, thinking that only a failure would choose the unadventurous life, living in a state already experienced. there was, after all, an entire country out there yet to be seen.
you can see, reader, how this early morning realization came as a shock.
it might be that her mother's reports of 75 degree days, coupled with one month more of actual winter in maryland, is helping the baron shellac a coat of nostalgia, and whimsy, and wasn't-it-good-when onto her childhood memories.
or, maybe not.
maybe she really DOES want to end up right where she started. what an arresting and frightening thought.
this morning, when insomnia hit her, between the hours of 3 and 5 a.m., the baron remembered the sandwich shop very close to her childhood home, located in a sweet shopping area nostalgically called the town center. the town center, in addition to this sandwich shop, is also home to a coffee shop (locally owned and operated), a bagel shop (locally owned and operated), a children's book store (locally owned and operated), and various other shops and eateries.
not all the shops at the town center are locally owned and operated - there's recently a starbucks there, as well as a rite aid - but the flavor of the place, to the baron, remains undiluted by these nationwide chains.
from the town center, her mind wandered westward, toward riverside's oldest neighborhoods, some of which are in dire need of some tlc, a few of which host some really amazing manors, the likes of which are no longer built. that's maybe her favorite part of town, at least for the aesthetics... the houses are rambling and beautiful, and sit on huge lots. she often wishes she owned and lived in one, right at the base of mount rubidoux.
from there, she thought over to the university of california at riverside, a campus that is apparently booming. she thought about the one big mall in town, called the galleria at tyler, and about how her first job was at a bookstore there. she thought about downtown, about the christmas lights at the mission inn, and about the central library, and about the barbeque place across the street from both of them, a spot she frequented in her pre-vegetarian years.
reader, this morning, between 3 and 5 a.m., the baron thought over all her favorite parts of riverside, and you know what? she experienced a jarring realization.
she misses riverside.
she had been saying, lo' these years, that she misses california, but the truth is she misses riverside. in her teens and early twenties, she thought that the town center, and the mall, and the library and riverside's quaint downtown were consipiring to suffocate her, literally choking the breath right out of her, so badly did she want to escape. she rejected riverside, and california, thinking that only a failure would choose the unadventurous life, living in a state already experienced. there was, after all, an entire country out there yet to be seen.
you can see, reader, how this early morning realization came as a shock.
it might be that her mother's reports of 75 degree days, coupled with one month more of actual winter in maryland, is helping the baron shellac a coat of nostalgia, and whimsy, and wasn't-it-good-when onto her childhood memories.
or, maybe not.
maybe she really DOES want to end up right where she started. what an arresting and frightening thought.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
september 16, 1997
reader, today is a sad day in the baron's personal history, a very sad day indeed. september 16 marks the 11th (11!) anniversary of the death of her father, and she's feeling kind of - but not totally - glum about this tuesday reminder.
the baron and her father had a complicated relationship, mostly because the baron was just a kid when he died; she was 20, and not a terribly mature 20. she was actually a kind of "wow, the 31 year old baron really cannot believe she was ever that self-centered and selfish" 20. in hindsight, the baron can understand why she and her father fought so often; less easy-going than her brother, the baron pushed back every chance she had. she invented opportunities to push back. see how annoying?
so, 11 years ago-ish, the baron, her brother, and their friend sweet lady x went to a movie; the baron's parents were two doors down, seeing a different movie ('air force one', as it happens), one that started just 30 minutes behind the baron's film.
can you see where this story is going, reader?
the brother and lady x and the baron finished their movie and went their separate ways... lady x to her home, and the siblings to theirs. it was evening. some time later - much later, which the baron remembers because she absentmindedly flipped through the channels while waiting for her parents to return and came upon 'nypd blue' - her mother came home, weeping. and, the saddest part of all - even sadder than her crying - was the sight of the baron's mother clutching her recently dead husband's shoes.
(an aside: it pleases the baron that her father died at a movie (for all intents and purposes - he faltered at the theatre, was revived by a good samaritan, and died on the way to the hopsital), because reader, he LOVED movies. he loved them. he liked his entertainment to be mindless and agenda-free, so movies like 'air force one' were perfect for him. he used to play hooky anytime a new 'star trek' movie was coming out. isn't that endearing?)
the baron's first thought upon seeing her mother was nothing. no thought at all. does not compute. makes no sense.
then she thought, 'i am an afterschool special. i will spend many maladjusted years trying to recover from this.'
perhaps you are thinking, shoes? how is that sad? or perhaps you are not thinking that at all, but the baron would like to share the rest of her story anyway.
her father - let's call him the father - was one of many children - 6 or 7, and yes reader it IS shameful that the baron doesn't exactly remember how many. his family was poor, very, very poor, having moved from illinois to redondo beach, california. the father's own father had left his family when the father was quite young - and, reader, that's a sad story too - so the father and his siblings were raised by just one parent; with that many children, the baron can only imagine how hard it must have been. anyhoo, this poverty marked the father, in two very specific ways.
first, by the time the baron knew him, the father always had cash in his wallet. not two singles and 3 quarters, like the baron, but real cash, lots of cash, as a tangible reminder that he could afford it (it? whatever it was). he wasn't wasteful with it, but he always had it... like a paper security blanket.
second, the father always made sure to buy expensive dress shoes. it confounded the baron, even in her selfish youth, because the father was a printer, a man who worked with his hands - and italian loafers just did not fit into his print shop lifestyle, smelling as it did of chemicals and awash in the steady, steady hum of the printing press. those shoes meant something to him - he told her as much once, when they were at a relative truce. that he was able to afford them meant something (something? what?), and the baron has happy memories of seeing her father in the mornings, every morning, polishing his shoes before putting them on (usually, it must be said, with a small silver shoe horn).
so, you see, reader, the sight of her mother - newly widowed, and holding so tight to a pair of shoes that, after all, meant so much more than footwear - was arresting. the baron can still see her mother, coming up into the light of the front walk, passing into and out of the baron's vision through the slits of the vertical blinds, and holding those shoes so close.
the father died before the commonplace use of digital cameras, and maybe she wouldn't even put up a photo of him anyway. some things are sacred.
the next days and weeks are a blur. the baron knows she became the VERY WORST version of herself, and treated the brother very, very badly.
but, you know what, reader? redemption and recovery are real! they are there, for all of us! we can get them, if only we loosen our grip and let them in.
so.
today, 11 years later, the baron had the following conversation with the mother:
the baron: hello?
the mother: hello!
the baron: where the hell ya been all day? i've been trying to get you since noon!
the mother: i had a class, and i have to go to yoga class! then alice and i went shopping.
the baron: oh - i thought you and jonathan went to daddy's grave, because, you know, didn't he die today?
the mother: yes. i'm going on friday.
so, you see reader? redemption and recovery. it's there for you.
the baron and her father had a complicated relationship, mostly because the baron was just a kid when he died; she was 20, and not a terribly mature 20. she was actually a kind of "wow, the 31 year old baron really cannot believe she was ever that self-centered and selfish" 20. in hindsight, the baron can understand why she and her father fought so often; less easy-going than her brother, the baron pushed back every chance she had. she invented opportunities to push back. see how annoying?
so, 11 years ago-ish, the baron, her brother, and their friend sweet lady x went to a movie; the baron's parents were two doors down, seeing a different movie ('air force one', as it happens), one that started just 30 minutes behind the baron's film.
can you see where this story is going, reader?
the brother and lady x and the baron finished their movie and went their separate ways... lady x to her home, and the siblings to theirs. it was evening. some time later - much later, which the baron remembers because she absentmindedly flipped through the channels while waiting for her parents to return and came upon 'nypd blue' - her mother came home, weeping. and, the saddest part of all - even sadder than her crying - was the sight of the baron's mother clutching her recently dead husband's shoes.
(an aside: it pleases the baron that her father died at a movie (for all intents and purposes - he faltered at the theatre, was revived by a good samaritan, and died on the way to the hopsital), because reader, he LOVED movies. he loved them. he liked his entertainment to be mindless and agenda-free, so movies like 'air force one' were perfect for him. he used to play hooky anytime a new 'star trek' movie was coming out. isn't that endearing?)
the baron's first thought upon seeing her mother was nothing. no thought at all. does not compute. makes no sense.
then she thought, 'i am an afterschool special. i will spend many maladjusted years trying to recover from this.'
perhaps you are thinking, shoes? how is that sad? or perhaps you are not thinking that at all, but the baron would like to share the rest of her story anyway.
her father - let's call him the father - was one of many children - 6 or 7, and yes reader it IS shameful that the baron doesn't exactly remember how many. his family was poor, very, very poor, having moved from illinois to redondo beach, california. the father's own father had left his family when the father was quite young - and, reader, that's a sad story too - so the father and his siblings were raised by just one parent; with that many children, the baron can only imagine how hard it must have been. anyhoo, this poverty marked the father, in two very specific ways.
first, by the time the baron knew him, the father always had cash in his wallet. not two singles and 3 quarters, like the baron, but real cash, lots of cash, as a tangible reminder that he could afford it (it? whatever it was). he wasn't wasteful with it, but he always had it... like a paper security blanket.
second, the father always made sure to buy expensive dress shoes. it confounded the baron, even in her selfish youth, because the father was a printer, a man who worked with his hands - and italian loafers just did not fit into his print shop lifestyle, smelling as it did of chemicals and awash in the steady, steady hum of the printing press. those shoes meant something to him - he told her as much once, when they were at a relative truce. that he was able to afford them meant something (something? what?), and the baron has happy memories of seeing her father in the mornings, every morning, polishing his shoes before putting them on (usually, it must be said, with a small silver shoe horn).
so, you see, reader, the sight of her mother - newly widowed, and holding so tight to a pair of shoes that, after all, meant so much more than footwear - was arresting. the baron can still see her mother, coming up into the light of the front walk, passing into and out of the baron's vision through the slits of the vertical blinds, and holding those shoes so close.
the father died before the commonplace use of digital cameras, and maybe she wouldn't even put up a photo of him anyway. some things are sacred.
the next days and weeks are a blur. the baron knows she became the VERY WORST version of herself, and treated the brother very, very badly.
but, you know what, reader? redemption and recovery are real! they are there, for all of us! we can get them, if only we loosen our grip and let them in.
so.
today, 11 years later, the baron had the following conversation with the mother:
the baron: hello?
the mother: hello!
the baron: where the hell ya been all day? i've been trying to get you since noon!
the mother: i had a class, and i have to go to yoga class! then alice and i went shopping.
the baron: oh - i thought you and jonathan went to daddy's grave, because, you know, didn't he die today?
the mother: yes. i'm going on friday.
so, you see reader? redemption and recovery. it's there for you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
