I realize I am just a bit behind on posting photos of my children here. To rectify that, here is the first of a series of gallery posts from last year.
It was a beautiful day in September and it made sense to drag the children out in their finest rainbow dresses to the playground. Well, Cheeks didn’t wear a rainbow dress; she was dressed like a tiny Mrs. Roper. As one does.
Enjoy the photos after the jump.
Yesterday I took Penny to the doctor. She’d been getting these low-grade fevers for a few days and then bouncing back, having some throat issues that were causing her to gag on her food, and was just kind of inconsistent in temperament. More inconsistent than is normal for a 4 year old, at least. Nothing too bad, but off for long enough that we decided a doctor visit was warranted.
The drive from our house to the pediatrician office is about 30 minutes, beach traffic permitting. And that means plenty of time for music.
The thought of Frozen II on loop yet again filled me with dread, so I made a quick playlist of albums that I anticipated she wouldn’t hate and wouldn’t end up with me yelling at Android Auto to play “Lost In the Woods” ten minutes into our drive.
The first album on that playlist was Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots by The Flaming Lips. An all-time great album, to be sure. One that I’ve listened to maybe 80 million times, no exaggeration. And why aren’t The Flaming Lips more discussed? They’ve been putting out great records for decades, but no one talks about them. It’s weird, right? It’s not like they’re a band who put out a few records in the late 80s and then disappeared. No, they’ve been consistently making new work since 1986. I hear more talk about Neutral Milk Hotel and they only put out two records in the 1990s. It’s wild! Talk about The Flaming Lips!
Anyway.
We were driving down the highway, I put on the record, and halfway through the first track, “Fight Test”, she says, “I like this music, daddy.”
“Did you just say you liked this, kiddo?”
“Yeah! I like this music.”
I tell you I have had some successes as a parent, but this was a special one. I felt like I really hit the mark with my gamble with this album, one that is pretty high in my own personal favorites.
During “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt. 1” I explained to her that this song was about a girl who fights evil robots to protect the boy who is singing, knowing full well that orienting her understanding of the song in the terms of a heroic girl would help her appreciate it. And I wasn’t lying. That is what the song is about, at least at the level of understanding of a young girl. I could have talked to her about struggling and overwhelming odds and caring for our loved ones who fight for us and she might have understood a little, but telling her it was about a girl who fought robots to save a boy sent the idea right home.
The appointment went smoothly. She was COVID/RSV/strep negative. It was a relief that we don’t have to look forward to that joy smashing through the house again.
On our way back home, we listened to the driving playlist again which had reached Pulp’s This Is Hardcore when she pipes up behind me. “Daddy, can we listen to the girl and the robot song again?”
“Really??” I asked. “You got it, sweet girl.”
After the song, I skipped over “Yoshimi Pt. 2” and “In The Morning of the Magicians”, but she made me go back to the latter track because she “liked that one”.
What a car ride! After so many years of inane, mind-numbing children’s music, to be able to listen to something with Penny that I love and that she enjoyed was such a pleasure. It’s funny how these silly little moments can feel so profound and rewarding against the daily grind of parenting.
We went to the diner close to the house for lunch. She got french toast and chocolate milk and I got an omelette with home fries and rye toast.
David Lynch has died. If you run in the same media circles I do, this will come as no surprise to you. I won’t bore you with my waxing poetic about how important his work is to me (very) or how much I admire that he was able to do all the things he was (a lot) or how great of a loss this is to everyone who cares about art (huge).
No, I’ll take this moment to share one of my very favorite David Lynch moments, a moment which is directly responsible for the unironic addition of “get real” to my personal lexicon.
Let’s all go make something weird and important.
Rest well, David Lynch.
Happy Holidays, everyone! I hope you’re fortunate enough to spend these dark winter nights with people you love, no matter what you celebrate or don’t celebrate. It’s a time for chosen families, for friends, and for people who love the hell out of you no matter what.
So put your feet up, eat something delicious, and sing loudly.
Happy New Year, everyone! I was fumbling around the internet recently and came across a post on Fstoppers that provides a framework about how to process your creative output from last year and your creative goals for this year. I thought it would be fun and interesting to go through this list here to share with you all.
Note that I am going to change some of the photography-specific language in the questions to be broad. I’m a photographer, sure, but I’m also a bunch of other things all lumped together.
Ok? Ok! Cool! Let’s get going.
So that’s about it. Some optimization for this coming year. Some places I’d like to put more juice. You know what would also be great? Getting a job. Or jobs. I’ve been seriously underemployed since Verdant collapsed and that is driving me nuts. But I’ll save that for Failure State: Verdant Construction whenever I get around to writing that.
It’s that holiday time of year again. And again I have a holiday card to share with you all. Spend some quality time with people you love whether they are your given family, chosen family, or whoever else. Eat something good. And I’ll see you in 2024.
Anyone with children will know that kids toys love to make noise, especially cheap electronic noise. The books sing. The tables sing. The chairs sing. Everything sings these horrible, tinny, little songs that you can’t escape. They’re awful. I hate them. They are a one-way ticket on the express train to Headache Town for me.
I hate them so much, in fact, that when they come into the house via some well-meaning gift-giver I make them quietly disappear as soon as the children have wandered away from them. As my sister once said to me, gifts are meant to be given and after that it’s up to you what you do with them. I’m paraphrasing a bit, but that’s the gist.
However, one such toy found it’s way into our lives and made an impression on me.
When Penny and Bea were just becoming mobile, they were absolutely obsessed with the television remote. They are still obsessed with it, of course, but now they know what it does. Back then it was just a fun thing to hold on to that was always hanging around and being used by the grown-ups. The obsession got so serious that we had to hide the remotes out of their field of view or they would get upset at not being able to play with them.
Sarah or I—not sure who—had the brilliant idea of getting a couple of toy remotes for them to mess around with so the real remotes might lose their fascination. Sarah found one on Bezo’s store and it arrived shortly thereafter. The girls were happy and the toy became a beloved thing. Here is a photo of it.
The remote features a big 3 stage switch on the side to set it to off, low volume, or high volume. At first, this switch confounded the children. I could set it to off and be sure that I wouldn’t hear the beeping and chirping and music it polluted the room with. Gradually, as their fine motor skills developed, they learned to switch the thing on and had no reservation to set it all the way to high volume. Of course! Things are so much more fun when they are very loud, right?
And so, despite our valiant efforts to keep the thing set to off, we became acquainted with the music it made. At first you try to ignore it, let it fade into the din of two small children. Eventually, though, it starts to cut through the noise, it starts to insert itself into your consciousness, and you become aware of what it’s saying.
Most of the sounds the remote makes are pretty regular. Calling out the numbers. Stating the functions of the buttons. A song about how distressed the singer is that there isn’t more time in the day to watch television. You know, normal stuff.
Fortunately for you, you’re reading this in a multimedia format, so I can share the sounds with you. Here’s a sampling of what I am talking about.
There’s one song, however, that plays any time you turn the remote on. You hear it a lot because the kids are always switching the thing on and off. Then you start to really listen to the words the woman is singing from the remote. And then you realize that the lyrics are pretty weird. Like, seriously weird.
It’s great. And by “great” I mean “distressing”.
Seemingly innocuous, right? But really pay attention to what the words say.
Let’s gather round to pretend We’re going to enjoy some TV shows With our friends
Are we pretending to watch TV shows with our real friends? Or are we pretending to watch TV shows with our imaginary friends? Are we pretending to enjoy TV shows we are actually watching? What’s going on in this song? Is it calling for us to deceive our friends while we watch TV with them?
What adult thought this song was a good idea? Who paid so little attention that this thing is embedded in who knows how many toy remotes floating around the world?
The children will never understand the nuance if they even process the lyrics at all. But I’ve been thinking about this song for like a year and a half now. Maybe longer? I can’t figure it out. I don’t think I ever will figure it out.
But now I have shared it with you so it can take root in your mind. You’re welcome.
Listen to me reading you this post right here.
Sarah and I finished our sort-of-annual Whole30 this week. It’s a nice thing to do once a year or so when you feel like it’s time to clean up your act a little. And it’s a good way to be thoughtful about your eating and drinking, even if those aren’t problem areas for you. We’ve done it a bunch of times over the years and some are harder than others. This was one of the more challenging ones.
For those who aren’t familiar, the Whole30 is an elimination diet/habit-breaking challenge. For 30 days you don’t eat added sugar of any sort, grains, legumes, dairy, carrageenan, or alcohol. Additionally, you don’t recreate baked goods or treats with approved ingredients. So, no Whole30 cupcakes, no Whole30 pancakes, no Whole30 whiskey sours. You get the idea. Finally—and this isn’t a huge deal for me—you aren’t allowed to weigh yourself during the month.
Not so bad, right? With a little practice, it’s not. The real issue comes with the sheer amount of label-reading you are required to do. You’d be surprised how many items in your grocery store have banned ingredients in them. No added sugars isn’t just no white sugar; it’s also dextrose or maltose or sucrose or many others. No grains isn’t just no bread; it’s also no canola oil or corn starch or rice. No legumes isn’t just no beans; it’s also no soy sauce or peanut oil or tofu.
Go ahead. Read the ingredients in your pantry items. You’ll see all of these things in there. It’s a lot.
The first time you do this, it’s a real challenge and requires quite a lot of learning. But, as mentioned above, this isn’t our first time. It might be our sixth or seventh? We’ve got the label-reading thing pretty dialed in.
All that aside, I’ve got some thoughts and reflections about my experience on this most recent Whole30.
That’s it. I recommend the program if you’re at all interested in tinkering with your nutrition and habits. It’s pretty eye-opening and, once you’ve figured it out, it becomes a nice reset button.
