Monday, March 19, 2007

i can't believe...

so i was watching slc punk this morning while the kids were at school, that m was kind enough to loan me so i could burn it, and it is putting me in a weird mood.

i got to thinking about alot of things while i watched it: being a punk, utah, what i wanted, and still want, to do with my life, friends, family.

i became a punk not to rebel against anything, or buck the system, like stevo, but because the punks accepted me for who i was, exactly as i was. there was an intensity and familial closeness and, most importantly, an acceptance there that i had been missing.

while watching, i got a call from the school, and no. 1 is having a bad day. having trouble listening, pouting, chewing on his shirt. and i felt sad. cause clearly no. 1 is feeling the stress of my wife's impending deployment that we ourselves aren't even aware we are feeling.

"i'll have a talk with him when he gets home." i tell the teacher.

still watching the movie and thinking about things, and planning the big talk i need to have with my son, cause these are the things we do. regardless of what i was, or what i hoped to accomplish when i was, myself, a punk/goth in utah back in the 80's, today i am a dad.

and part of being a dad is helping your kids adjust, and overcome. and i think some more.

i think, i had no clue back then who i really was. i was on the precipice of discovering myself. and the punks and being a punk probably helped alot in that discovery.

i cycle between watching the movie, remembering and being nostalgic for those long-ago days, and planning what i should say to my son.

as i do all this, it occurs to me again that i really don't want to go back to those times, or any others in my life.

i am happy, right here, right now.

sure, there are some things i would love to change. i would love to be more toned, and less tubby. i'd love to have our bills paid off. i'd love my knee to quit aching all the time.

but my happiness is not based on any of these things. i was fucking miserable when i was 18 and a punk and in utah. mainly, because i didn't know who i was, and what i wanted for myself.

and i watch stevo fight this same battle with himself via the advance of technology and some clever creativity on the part of writers and cameramen. and i am glad i am past it.

then the bus pulls up, and i cut the movie short (which is good, cause the part with heroin bob at the end always makes me cry--cause, ultimately, i am silly), and i pull no. 1 aside, and in light of the weird emotional morning i suddenly find myself having, the only things i feel i need to say to him are:

"you know i love you, buddy? and mommy loves you? and that i am always proud of you, no matter what?"

cause, quite suddenly, all the rest of the things i was going to say just weren't important.

the only thing that mattered suddenly was that he knew he is loved, and that i am always proud of him, even when it feels like he is fucking up.

darth sardonic

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