I can't learn it fast enough

To have three sons all from the same father, and I think I played a role in it as well, to have them all be so different physically, emotionally and constitutionally must be what it's like to be a Polygamist, not that I'm married to these guys, but I do have to learn the subtleties of their moods, favorite foods, rage triggers, lying tells, homework breaking points and specific odors so I know whom to blame. It's exhausting but invigorating when I get it right.
So today, the most relevant thing I've learned about parenting is that in itself it is a learning process and I'm probably going to have to go to summer school.

Do you find this happens all the time

In so many instances of our lives we are within a cycle that has been consistent yet it seems as though we've never encountered it. The ebb and flow of our hormones, moods, levels of sugar are like the seasons yet each time we think it's the first; or perhaps familiar but not an old friend or acquaintance. An example would be, attempting to live a healthier lifestyle, exercising or a diet, or thinking about changing jobs or going to school. I think there are certain times in our lives that these, all in their individual way resurface or start to stir.
It would seem that for me, the Fall is when I can get my shit together. I start projects and actually finish them, loose weight, and change some negative behaviors. In addition, since my illness I've kind of grasped the value of making healthy choices and getting stronger; at least for this week.

I just want to get some action

Like so many things we are scared to do but overcome that and plunge in anyway, I am so very happy that I did the show at wcsb. The time was surreal in that it was as if it never happened. The two hours were like a velocious thunderstorm, gone before it really ever registers.
Eamon and Jack and I trudged downtown at 5:30 in that early stillness that is both dark but not at all like the evening because of the promise of light somewhere off on the horizon.
They pulled all of the records for me which were in excess of what could have been a five hour show though it was only for two, the theme of my life is to have way too much back up in case something runs out and that permeates every venue.
As I was going to go on the air Jack said to his dad; " I hope no one calls and asks mom for a date again." Ah, to be young and carefree.

You're going to get what you deserve

When Jake was round 6 months old I took him to see his Grandparents and Aunt and Uncle in California. I had a shitload of bags with me to carry on in case we ended up flying around the world for ten weeks, but not near what Eamon and I took on our flight to Japan which took 7 Sherpas to haul.
I was swimming with my parents one afternoon while Jake was taking a nap and my sister was listening in on the baby monitor as she held the mirror above his nose to make sure he was breathing; and I wonder why he is the way he is, anyway, my dad got hit in the head with a nail from a nail gun that was being used by a roofer on the building that was right out of the James Bond school of buildings on the other side of the fence from my parents house.
My neighbors two houses away are roofing today and I went out to hang laundry on my backyard line next to the car on blocks, and a nail shot by. Perhaps it's hereditary.

And it's small and it's mean

The problem I've had my entire life is that I don't really care about anything with the zest that most people exhibit. I work hard at my job, I contribute to organizations I find certain affiliation to, and I do the stuff you're supposed to as a reasonably good parent. However, I feel very little commitment to any of these in terms of them being important in a grander scale.
I wrote this poem last year which sums up my approach.


I’m not the person I am ever


I
In the realm of dreams I am someone I don’t know
I live like a stranger but know her vaguely
Her life however has lead a different course no
Children or an unknown for a boyfriend who
Seems familiar yet resembles no one. In another
There are children but I’ve left them across the country
And have moments to get them before they are left in the dark
Dusk is looming my car doesn’t work then my feet all is lost
And I awaken to my real life relieved to such a degree that I
Know that in the dream I was in that life I was entrenched
There was no doubt that I was someone other than me.
I have never known such relief as waking from these dreams
I’ve woken many a day hating my life and regretting my choices
coming up from the darkness of the dream I surface from a murky
dense understanding that it could have gone this way
like a muffled vision of the same place with the colors
off just a little slants and angles like a hillside where you
have to walk a bit on the sides of your feet and where
you have blocked ears and vertigo ever present

II
Then there is the person that changes in every setting
I am not me as a mom I scream and swear curse them
And promise never to repeat the mistake that led me to this
Place that they will regret it for real this time that they didn’t
Listen to my warnings and suggestions and pleas to stop or go
And now and here and this one not that one and why do we
Have to do this again why do I have to start every day knowing
That they will have forgotten the day before the lessons erased
From their limited memories as it is
Or the working girl saying yes and smiling wide knowing that
I never get anywhere with this but trying to be nice and pleasant
Nevertheless I’m as bad as the children in this setting
Giving the impression that I’m committed interested and aware of the
Value of the outcome when I know that in the realm of
My prefecture nothing means a thing because of the end
And that it’s presence for me is the only thing that ends
Up being

Stupid by a jar

Okay, so I'm doing a redux-dux of Ugly Music on WCSB. The show is going to be on Friday from 7am-9am it can be streamed from the website. I did this three years ago for the last reunion and felt a true sense of closure and enrichment from the experience. Now, I just feel old. Well, I feel other things too such as huge waves of fear and anxiety and that the music I have to play is dated and not as relevant as I'd like, and that I played the same fucking music every week in 1986 and 1987 which is sad because there was so much. I don't have playlists from earlier years of the show so I think that I had shared a greater variety then, but those last years at the station were a confusing and blurry mess.
I think about what has happened in the last twenty years in terms of music and how radio has become so much less of a vital part of the culture, but it still does provide a smaller sense of community connection, and that is something I'm happy to be a part of; if I could just get past the fear of dead air or of my atrophied brain compelling me to take a stab at being funny or current. It's going to happen, I know. I just hope everyone sleeps late that day.

The change will do you good

Jake has called me a few times at work to tell me that he has found the "someone" is changing the filtering on google to a non-existent level. In other words, someone is viewing porn and doing a proficient job of it. I find it interesting that my oldest, the one who tends to do things behind our backs, finds it necessary to report the naredowell.
Justification for behavior is easy for a lot of people. For the over thinker, such as myself it's a constant battle in trying to figure motivation, cause , effect and outcome. I think kind of like prohibition I will take away the source of the problem so that it can reveal itself somewhere else.

On the ledge again

The best thing about music is that it reaches to touch some deep and intrinsic understanding even when we have no idea what the song is about. Of course some songs are as obvious and mostly about love or relationships, but even though we know the words and the song means the world to us, often it must be a primal connection on a less obvious level. This is one of the few arenas where everything isn't spelled out for us and it's refreshing that the individual interpretation is part of the whole experience. Simple, sure but how much more of our lives allows for this pursuit; enabling hidden agendas, political statements and veiled innuendo to play on the mainstream forum.

It was Wellsville

I think the edge is gone. No, it is gone, I was supposed to do a show on the radio in a week and I've decided that I don't really feel committed enough to it to participate. WCSB is having it's 30th anniversary, so they're rolling out some of us former DJ's to play music from our era. Part of the reason I'm torn about this is that for some people the thought of being on the radio would be a privilege, but for me at this point in life, it's more like an SAT for the over forty set. I'm putting this out there so if anyone has an opinion share it with me by clicking on the "view my complete profile" link and you'll find my e-mail address. I sometimes need a consensus to help with a decision, or at least another opinion.

You got a face with a view

I think someday I will be able to accept that people find me kind of nutty. For the most part that is not a problem. What does become an issue is when they suspect that I am not legitimate in my notions because I throw in humor or an odd angle to the mix. The only person that has ever taken everything and I do mean that in the all inclusive card file, is Eamon, he has taken all of my cockamamy theories and ideas with all of the seriousness and gravity that I feel.
On Friday after work I stopped at the store to buy some weeklies, and uncharacteristically I was walking in while talking on the phone with my oldest friend in the world, this is unusual in that I can't walk and talk on the phone very well, I use wrong doors or put things into a cart that I can't use and so on. Anyway, we were talking about Split Enz and how much we love them still and as I walked in I heard a song by Neil Finn founder of said band. Tracy laughed as I held the phone up to the store speaker, or ventilation duct; and when I told Eamon he appreciated that indeed there is some silliness to trying to find more to that concurrent experience but it meant something to me and that was all that mattered.

I was in the realm of the essence of Tong

As a youngster, I remember my parents were rarely around, they were either at work or out clubbing, and if they were home it was grading or writing papers and or reading the NYT. They were not my social life.
For some reason, our kids seem to want to be around us a lot. Either we are as entertaining as we'd like to believe, or they have limited imaginations. For the most part I think it's not such a bad thing to keep on eye on these young men for the very impressionable years they are all struggling through, but it's at the point that if we are left alone it seems somewhat odd and disorienting.
Last week when we went to Gus' first marching band concert and Eamon fell in the ditch when we were walking back home in the pitch black darkness of no streetlights and blinding headlights, I wished the boys had been there because then I wouldn't have had to stifle my urge to laugh until I was on the ground, in that theirs would have drowned mine out. It was that funny. And why? Because when he fell he was carrying my purse on his shoulder.

Without looking back

I'm convinced that stepping out, or driving out of a comfort zone is essential for growth. There is degree of cush that we function within and that is a huge part of what makes it hard for changes to be made; even, when we're miserable in our stew. I'm not miserable at my work, in fact I like it almost all of the time, but of course there are moments of, I'm leaving and never coming back proclamations.
Today I'm working at another location. I've been here before, but not for years. I had to mapquest it and left super early to be sure to get here 45 minutes early. Though I claim that it's important to flex the parameters, I know that everything I did today, in the back of my mind I was going out of my net of knowledge and familiarity; or, I'm pms-ing

I'm ten years down the road

Gus loaded a demo for Saints Row onto the xbox last week; all of them have been going crazy for it, sharing glorious stories of killing, robbing, maiming and random drug use.
So, they've been telling me to come and see some of the effects, but, I'm not a fan of the basement and avoid it for the most part. Yesterday, I ended up going down because Eamon was swearing a tad more than usual as he is not how shall I say; up to snuff when it comes to beating many games.
So, by the time I went down Gus was playing the demo and Eamon wanted to show me something about some effect of some dumb thing or another, and Gus kept up with the random violence and Eamon finally had enough and said, "Will you go and smoke some pot for your mom already." To which Gus replied, Which do you want me to use, a doobie, pipe.." Eamon interrupted, " Use the bong." Now that right there is why I'm proud to be an American.