more inanity and insanity

last weekend i was in my sexy neighbor's bedroom while her husband is gone, hot and bathed in sweat.

moving a bed is hard work.

just now, i had a battle of wits with no. 1 and lost. here's why though: the battle consisted of my oldest wanting to take star wars monopoly (my numbered collector's edition version of the game from the 20th anniversary of the original three (by which of course, i mean iv, v, and vi)) to school as this is the last week and they are spending the last few days playing board games.

of course i told him no way. over and over. in one ear and out the other. i went upstairs to the game closet to help him pick out something just as fun, and discovered i did, indeed, have two star wars monopoly games, both numbered, both 20th anniversary blah blah blah, both open.

then momentarily the battle of wits was with myself: relinquish control over some of my stuff that ultimately doesn't matter for shit in the grand scheme of things, and allow my boy to have a chance at some responsibility; or stubbornly stick with the dickhead dad schtick to maintain miserly control over a collector's item i bought with the intent to play and share with my kids and yet haven't opened in many many months?

yeah, so you, the beloved non-existent readers, can see that my loss was more of a victory.

and speaking of victories, i was at no. 2's end of school year party yesterday. no, o beloved non-existents, my tried and trues, i didn't cry. but i wanted to. cause the kid that fit in the palms of my cupped hands when he was born is moving on to first grade. cause he reads. cause he writes. cause he is that kid that everyone knows, and most people like. cause he smiles at everybody and says "hi!" and leaves no one out.

and i thought about it. will i ever not cry at these hurdles? will there ever come a time when each new step he takes doesn't put me right back into an unbelievably small room at the ronald mcdonald house in albuquerque, new mexico where i turned my tearstained face to the ceiling and told god i couldn't take another day of bad news and could we get just one day when the phone didn't ring?

no, o my beloved, patient non-existent readers. i highly doubt it. and god knows i will kick down the pearly gates to view the beautiful moments as it were from afar posthumously, and i will stand in my white robes on the edge of a cloud and i will stain the earth with my tears like warm, cleansing rain, for the rest of his existence until he is back with me, asking if he can sit on my lap.

darth sardonic

mothers day

happy mother's day one and all. normally i wax lyrical about mothers and my own mother and the mother of my children. but i am tired.

so suffice to say, that while i imagine that all the mothers reading this blog (all five of you) are probably as amazing as hell, i have been blessed with world's (and quite possibly universe's) coolest mom, and further blessed with world's (and without a doubt universe's) coolest wife.

happy mother's day again, and may you all be truly blessed with the love of your spouses, families, and children.

darth sardonic

batshit stark-raving barkers (the latest on the tattoo)

the angel girl and devil girl's are all done, as well as the bulk of the background. i go to a tattoo convention in salt lake city, utah (yes, that is mormon central. yes, they have a tattoo convention. yes, it will actually be fun (my tattoo artist says it's always one of the best he has ever been to, and follows that up with the phrase: "the greater the oppression, the bigger the rebellion.") in feb to get more work done, and then one or two more appointments after that, and it will finally be done. i think we are about 35 hours in, at this point.

darth sardonic

randomness is the sugar sprinkles on the ice cream sundae of life

if i let her, my wife will read me the entire list of foods i am allowed to eat on whatever diet she is interested in today.

you cannot split the signals from three gibson g-3 bass pickups to three different phase switches for maximum tonal diversity. it took me a total of four hours bent over a hot soldering iron and a tangle of multicolored wires that would make the most stone-cold bomb technician break out in night sweats to figure it out.

when you are 7 and 8, repetition of one phrase in a high-pitched cartoonish voice is the height of hilarity. it might also land you in the er.

when you are 7 and 8, "daddy, can i have a kuitar lesson?" means: "daddy, can i plug one of your kuitars into the kuitar amp and wail on it like i am the bastard love child of sonic youth and tad."

(in a related story, if you turn to your wife and say, "quick, gimme the name of a guitarist known for atonal and obnoxious noisy solos." she will sputter, stutter, say "jack white." and end lamely by saying, "i don't know guitarists." (i was going to go with pete townsend and kurt cobain, until it occured to me that the obvious subtext to that would be that my kids had smashed my guitar. they treat it very lovingly, as long as you don't mind retuning it when they're done.))

in a not related at all story, if your wife says, "i'm just tired." what she really means is "i'm pissed at you about something and if you are too fucking stupid to figure it out, i sure as hell am not going to waste my time explaining it to you." disappear or look busy for about a half-hour, and whatever it was you had done will have dissipated and been forgotten.

and nothing beats a walk on the beach when it is about 70 with a light breeze blowing in your hair. well, maybe sex. ok, definitely sex.

darth sardonic

just a tidbit...

honestly, i left that last post up way too long. and if that is your only contact with me, then the thinking would be i have been in a long, downward spiral now for a week or however long it has been there. this is simply not the case.

so, to banish that post to the back burner and move on to other things, i offer this short insight:

i love my wife's face when she is rinsing the conditioner out of her hair in the shower. maybe it is the way she closes her eyes, maybe it is the angle that i look down on her while she does it, maybe it is the steam cloud that surrounds us.

maybe it is the simple peace that makes her face glow; as if in this one split second, there is no care. as if nothing preoccupies her mind except washing every last drop of conditioner out and feeling the long wet hank of her hair trail down her naked back.

brief as it is; as infrequent as the chances to observe this moment have been since having children; as quickly as we shift from that one sunkissed second back to worries and cares and the grit and grime of the day to day creeps back in like vaseline smeared on a camera lens; i always have these moments to hold onto.

darth sardonic