discovering the obvious

Every now and then I discover the obvious. Sometimes I walk outside and "discover" why storm drains are directed away from the wood shingles on the side of houses. Sometimes I read the newspaper and "discover" why corporate capitalism is distinct from market capitalism and how there's no stopping corporate consolidation. And just the other day I discovered the very peculiar love I possess for my son. I'm struck by overwhelming feelings of attachment to this little being.


I suppose one could call it love, but it seems different than the garden variety. I know the love one has for their parents: an always-there phenomenon. Or romantic love based on an assumption of reciprocity.


Or the love for a friend based on respect and reverance. But then there's this other kind of love that I've lately been feeling for our son. It's partly based on creationism. By that I mean, I love this child, like God loves man, simply because I made him.

And it's partly based on potentiality. I love the thought of all the things to come. It's partly based on the desire for self-recognition. I love this child because he needs me. It's partly based on humanism. I love this child because he represents everything human I no longer take the time to recognize in myself.


And finally, it's partly based on the satisfaction of having a relationship so utterly void of pretense and presumption.

Whatever the sum of these parts, it's a profoundly new experience for me. And I'm sure as he acquires language and learns to manipulate us, I'll quickly forget the reason for this love. But the love will remain, and it will be constructed on a magnificent foundation.

2 Months Old

Little Elliot will be two months old tomorrow. So, in the spirt of celebration, the family decided to go to the beach. We took the train out to Revere Beach on a beautiful Friday afternoon. Being from California, we were a bit shocked and amused by the goings on at the beach. First of all, it's a totally different scene than, say, Malibu or Zuma. Instead of OC-like beach folk, there were lots of old men on beach chairs tanning themselves on the sidewalk. They positioned their chairs facing away from the ocean, quietly watching the foot traffic pound the sidewalk instead of the waves pounding the beach. This may have been to direct their bodies to face the afternoon sun - which of course is opposite the beach here. It may have been to be social, or it may simply have been to give themselves a better vantage of the scantily clad women. In any case, it was odd. We didn't quite know how to explain it to Elliot.

But there was no disputing that it was a beautiful day. Elliot, Justeen and I were thrilled to be out of doors and near a large body of water. It reminded us all that living near a coast, even if we rarely visit the water, is the geographic equivalent of a primal scream - sometimes you just have to be reminded that the land ends.

Justeen and Elliot contemplate the end of land below.



Until of course Elliot loses his hat.

Here I am with the little outdoorsman. We're both thinking about walking across the street to get some ice cream (which we eventually did).
After we returned home, the fun continued. Elliot is enjoying listening to me sing his favorite song - "happyland." You might remember the lyrics to this wonderful song from a previous post.



"You sly dog you," Elliot thought, as I spontaneously changed the lyrics.


After a busy afternoon, the little man chills on his pillow. He's wandering how the dancing monkey (that's me) is going to entertain him next.


And here I am trying to figure out what all the hubbub is about. He can stay under his little gym and giggle for upwards of thirty minutes. I just had to see for myself. I only giggled for about ten minutes before getting bored.

First Date

It's springtime in Boston. Love is in the air. The tulips in Copley Square are about to bloom. This flower below, in the avant garde, opens up to check out the scene. It looks around, figuring its strategy. There is strength in numbers. It realizes it is by itself - vulnerable, naked, exposed. And yet, it continues to open. This tulip is mighty and proud. And...it gave little Elliot the inspiration he needed to ask his sweetheart on a date.


He ponders his strategy with his dad and friends on a little walk by the river. "But how would I approach her?" "What would I say?" By the end of the walk we were all tired of hearing him pontificate.


He demanded that we go home so he could have some time alone. He positioned himself in front of the mirror and stared. "Hey baby" he rehearsed. "Is your diaper as wet as mine?"



And then, as quickly as the idea came to him, he figured the solution. He'll invite her to the gym. He was going to exercise anyway, so why not just ask her if she wanted to come along.



"Victory!" Little Ella showed up at the door and without much pause, they were hanging out in Playskool gym together.



He reached for her hand. She didn't pull away. It was working. She was warming up to him. It was the oldest trick in the book, but Ella, coy at first, placed her hand on his and left it there.



The first date was going swimingly. Ella couldn't hide her fondness for Elliot. So she needed her mom to ease her head towards his. Elliot didn't take that personally. "You take what you can get. And if this lovely lady needed a little help from her mom, well, I still pee on myself, so who am I to be picky."



It would seem that the love connection would be lasting. Elliot asked Ella to spend the summer with him and she said yes. They agreed to share a nanny three days a week. It was the beginning of something beautiful.