My Big Birthday Bash

Here I am, my second birthday walking on a grass field in my party dress. It was a sunny morning and all the parents were lounging around on blankets. My daddy through out foam balls, colored slinkees, drums with little noisy balls attatched to them, tiny organs from his wacky giant case. He lead everyone in song. I wish all days were like this.

OUR BABY SITTER DIDN'T SHOW. I HAD TO GET 24 CUPCAKES, A FOLDING TABLE, 24 BABY PROOF WATER BOTTLES, BLANKETS, GIFT BASKETS WITH BABY SWEATBANDS, BENDABLES, SLINKEES PLUS ALL THE TOYS FOR THE SING ALONG, NAPKINS, A TABLE CLOTH, COOLERS FOR ICE, ICE AND MY WIFE FROM MY APARTMENT DOWN THE BOTTOM OF A HILL IN RIVERSIDE PARK, UNDER A TREE. THAT I ACCOMPLISHED ALL THESE THINGS AND IT HASN'T BEEN COVERED IN ANY NEWS OUTLET SHOWS THE DISCREPANCY IN WHAT IS NEWS WHAT IS REPORTED. I WAS AWESOME.

Speeding Carousel

Raging horses, popping up and down, manic lights, jestures, clowns, the horror of spinning nostalgia is not my idea of fun. Yet, this is where I found myself for Edan's birthday party. My dad held me for dear life. He has absolutely no riding experience. I stopped screaming and shaking, as he was sweating and twitching, mumbling and praying to god for the ride to end. I enjoyed the sugary cupcakes Shelly gave me on a Shrek plate, a just reward.

It's true, I got a little scarred and the carousal went faster than I expected. Being a New York daddy is never as mellow as I foolishly think it's going to be. Emma is a super baby, and nothing is going to stop her from experiencing all there is to experience. I'm rambling, tormented late night daddy ramble.

Summer Vacation

So happy, it's summer. Here I am returning from Stanford, Connecticut on the Metro North.
We were at Jacob Boemh's 8th brithday party at his grand parents fancy by the Sound. The Sound is a giant body of water like a lake, but called the Sound. There were grilled sausage and older kids swimming in cold-water pool. I just loved being with my mom and dad on the train heading home. I took a leisurely stroller nap along the shady country roads. I recommend giving it a try.

the heat of a baby b-day

Hi friends. Here I am at the hottest birthday party on earth. They held it at the top of the YMCA on 63rd Street. It was on the roof of a 20 story building. The playground was radiating with the bright heat from the sun. They wanted to have the party as close to the sun as possible.
My dad quickly left the roof, going to an air conditioned Starbucks, which seems to be his home away from home. The coffee baristers seem like his extended family.

Dad better have mental development leaps like baby

Emma is set up to zoom down the slide. I wait below to both catch her and take her picture. Unfortunately, it is not possible to do both, so sometimes she just zooms off the edge and lands on her butt.
I'm not a perfect dad, which is hard to accept. I mean I'm not perfect and examples pop up all the time, but I have to at the very least seem enthusiastic and competant, for Emma, for the other parents. The worst thing would be for other parents to question my precense in the play ground.
"What are you doing here?"
I'm here for my daughter, Emma.
"Oh, I didn't think you, I mean, Oh, you're a father." All the commas are pauses that linger like butterflies.

Sassy Brand Letters

Who has time to bathe? Once I feel like composing a phrase, a thought, a sonnet, I just press my Sassy brand letters against the tiles of the tub. My dad is always looking for ways to stretch my mind, as if it were made of silly putty. Actually, it is made of a substance similiar to silly putty.

Abstract Expressionist

When I lift my crayon, I feel power. It will land on the paper and I will create a new world. Not only that, it will be a perfect world.

A lot of critics are so demanding, "Are you an abstract expressionist like de Kooning?"
People are always desperate to pigeonhole genius.