I Scream, You Scream

Day 230:

There are only a few things that suck more than getting sick on vacation, Boy'O.  2012 has been the worst year I've ever had in terms of how many times I've had some kinda cough, sniffle, headache, sore throat, whatever...  I typically don't get sick and if I do, I bounce back straight away; 24 hours down and I'm back in the game...  Between last Monday and today though, I've been bone chilling, feverishly sick four times in 2012.  Complete drag!

I called the Doc this morning, had them order up some antibiotics for me, and between the orange juice, Airborne tablets, cough suppressants, and Z-Pack, and the gallon of water I put down, I went toe to toe with this thing... So far the illness is winning.  I'm still a bit down - shakes and all that, but I'll be good to go tomorrow.  And if I'm not, I'll lie about it.

Part of the effort to fight this saw me firing myself up and getting myself together to at LEAST take you on a walk, so me and Mommy put you in the stroller and went for a good long walk.  Moving in the Sun felt good.  It warmed me to my core and felt great to get the muscles working.  And on the way, why not stop and have a Banana Split?!  So we stopped for ice cream and a day on the bench... Beach breeze blowing, you smiling and giggling, and I cannot confirm nor deny whether or not I gave you your first taste of vanilla soft serve!

Right after, it was back to the house and back to bed... Again.  And then up for a half hour and then back to bed... Again.  Then up for dinner, a blog post, and back to bed... Again.  Mommy is out with girlfriends, you're asleep in your bed, and I'm muddling through a glass of whiskey - it cures what ails ya, Boy'O.

After a good long stare at the silvery moon, I feel my eyes getting a wee heavy.  And with that I'll bid you good night, Boy'O.  Here's to tomorrow being a day of health and happiness...

I love you, Conor.
-Dad

Sand Between the Toes

Day 229:

Today Boy'O, was a perfect beach day.  Temperatures in the low 80s, bright sunshine, steady breeze, warm water, and you, Son.  Always you.  After lathering you up with plenty of SPF 50 sunscreen, loading up a cooler with lunch for all, bogging down the jogging stroller with chairs, towels, and an umbrella, and then trudging down the road a few blocks to the beach, it was time to relax.

Now, admittedly the beach has never been my very favorite thing.  I enjoy it okay, but given my preference I'd take an old wooden chair on a dock overlooking a lake.  Never the less, what I do love is the water.  I was born for it.  I love the water, Boy'O.  It was, in fact, my first love.  The older I get, the closer I'd like to be to a great big body of water.  So now here you are; my Son, my greatest love, and meeting my first love - the sea.  A truly perfect day...

It took some time but realizing you're far to small to be carried into the surf, I spent the better part of an hour blowing up a small baby pool to fill with sea water for you to play in.  Thankfully, after damn near passing out from blowing this thing up, Mommy finished the work and I went into the water to load up buckets of the warm salty Atlantic to pour into your pool... And you were in second Heaven.

We all took a nap on the beach, and it was bliss.  I laid out on the warm sand, shades on, and out I went while you snoozed away the afternoon in your stroller.  Mommy in her chair, Mom-Mom in hers, and MeMeow in hers, we all enjoyed a little quiet time on the beach.  The gulls squawked, waves crashed, breeze blew, and the bright sun to keep us warm... It'd been a long time since I've been that relaxed, Boy'O.

To follow up the beach day it was bad to the house to get showered and cleaned and then off to meet the photographer, at, you guessed it, the beach!  We took some great pictures of the whole family but of course, you Son.  The finest subject ever photographed in my opinion.

Now your Grandparents are all out to dinner, you're in bed, and here I sit in the crows nest over looking the sound getting ready to eat linguine and clams and drink a glass of wine.  A solid, solid day, Boy'O. And your first day at the beach...

I love you, Conor.
-Dad

A Soggy Beach Day

Day 228:

Our first full day of the beach turned out to not be at all, really...  A late morning (thanks to your Mother's willingness to get up with you at 6:30am leaving me to sleep until 8:30am) turned into a busy day of gathering the things we couldn't fit into the Suburban.  Leaving you with all the Grandparents, including Mom-Mom, me and Mommy decided to make the run around Sea Isle, Avalon, and Ocean City gathering the final supplies of the week.

When we left the house the plan was to do 90 minutes of errands, have some lunch, and head out to the beach...  By the time we got back, some of the deepest, darkest storm clouds you could ever imagine were rolling into the area and the thunder began to roll from only a few short miles away.  After getting all of our booty into the house, the thunder was on top of us, the lightning cracking the sky, and the first few rain drops began to fall.

From that point on we were in the house, Boy'O.  It rained almost 4 inches in three hours...  Good thing the Olympics are on this week because it gave us something to do and something to talk about while the rain came down... No beach today.

Later in the day we ended up next door at your Uncle John and Aunt Moira's house with Sean, your Aunt Mag, Uncle Mike, Cousins Mike and Danny, Holly, Grandma MeMeow, Grandpa K9, Mom-Mom, and of course me and Mommy for a great lasagna dinner and some fantastic conversation coupled with very good wine.  Quite the night.  Despite not having any time to spend on the beach today, the prospect of hanging around with family, playing cards, eating and drinking, meant the whole no-time-at-the-beach thing was no big deal.

And here now I'm ready to catch some Z's, Boy'O.  And to that I'll bid you Goodnight, Son.

I love you,
-Dad

Goin' "Down the Shore"

Day 227:

When I was a kid, Conor, Your Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop moved us around quite a bit.  Chicago for 5 years, Houston for almost 10, then back to where I was born, back to where you were born, sweet home DC...  Back in those days we made the long cross country journey to the mid-Atlantic every Summer, two weeks at a time.  Each and every Summer was the same thing; visit the families in the Old Dominion, The Keystone State, and of course, "Down the Shore"...  That term of course referring to the Philadelphia local terminology for going to the beach is "Goin' down the shore"...

When I was 10 years old and living in Texas, well, to say the cultures are a bit different is quite the understatement.  We went to the beach all the time in those days, Son.  But what you heard was "Hey y'all!  Y'all join' to the beach today?"  The Philly area, and specifically South Philly and West Philly where your Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop and their families were all from, you'd hear, "Hey!  You's headed down the shore?"

It was confusing, Boy'O.  But it was our life and we loved it!

So yes, each and every Summer we'd head "Down the Shore", though typically to Wildwood, NJ which, present day, you don't go to unless you're armed and prepared to fire.  But I digress...  Kidding of course, but it's not the beach and boardwalk it used to be, that's for sure.  Anyhow, wonderful memories were made in those times.  Playing in the tide pools, catching hermit crabs, walking the boards.  It was everything an active young boy could ever want.

Now Son, I've been to beaches from Long Island to and through the Caribbean.  I've been to beaches along the Gulf in Florida, Mississippi, and up and down Texas.  I've been to beaches in California.  But the memories I have as a young boy are the most lasting in New Jersey, and as a teenager in the Outer Banks.  And so here we are today, Son...

For the week at least, we're in Sea Isle City, NJ, not at all far from Wildwood.  And there are new memories to be made, Boy'O.  And with family you'll know you're whole life...  And so the week begins, Boy'O.  Good times ahead...

I love you, Son.
-Dad

Blowing Town

Day 226:

What a week it's been, Conor...  Work has been hectic, planning has been constant, projects have been many, and circumstances have been pressing...  A week to leave in the rear view, indeed.

After dropping the Tahoe off on Monday and being assured it'd be ready for the trip to Sea Isle tomorrow, predictably it wasn't ready.  What's more, I found this news out as I was on he way to get her!  Thankfully, the shop doing the work is a first class, top notch repair shop and on top of that it's owned by a friend.  So to ease the blow, D and V Auto-Body in Sterling, VA was kind enough to give us a 2012 Chevy Suburban for the week.  I'm already dreading dropping it off next Monday and I've only had it for a few hours!  Great truck...  Seems I'm shifting away from my Big Horn pick-up dreams back over to old faithful, Chevy Tahoe.  Still, we're months, if not years away from a new car, Son.  Priority one is selling this joint and getting on with life elsewhere...

To that end, through six degrees of separation, turns out that a friend of a friend has a pretty nice little house over in Penderbrook; about an 1/8th mile from where we live now - which is IDEAL.  Keeping in Fairfax is important to me, Son.  It's more or less where I've spent the better part of the last 25 years, Son.  It's home.  I know it backwards and forwards and, for the time being, claim it as my own.  And save for only three other spots in the whole of the U.S., it's really the only place I can see staying in...  But now I'm getting ahead of myself...

Anyhow... work, houses, cars, and anything else doing it's very best to sap the life from us will all be in the rearview tomorrow, Conor.  This bus is leaving for points Northeast at the crack of dawn, Boy'O.  And with that, I'll say goodnight.

I love you, Conor.  Can't wait to do nothing but spend time with you for the next seven days...
-Dad

The Good Times

Day 225:

Life will forever dish out its fair share of ups and downs, Conor.  No two ways about it.  And you may have heard me mention this in a previous post, but certainly, life isn't about the 'downs' Conor.  It's about the 'ups'.   The little things.  Remembering a first trip to the beach, or going to the Houston rodeo with your Dad who, a Philadelphia boy born and raised and with his 6 year old in tow, decided to buy a 10 gallon Stetson hat simply to impress the young boy; the boy who saw him adorn that hat and could only think of one word "Hero".

 Clearly I'm recollecting my own memories, Son.  Epic Houston Oilers games at the Astrodome, a  ridiculous 10 gallon hat making my Dad, your Pop-Pop, the biggest, baddest cowboy who never rode a bull and never would.  It's my first puppy, the first time I crashed my bike, the first scrap I ever won and why and how my Dad reacted to it.  These are the things that make up your youth, Son.  So many memories have left me while others never will.  But those are the good times, Conor.  That's what life is all about.

We've many, many great memories yet to create together, Boy'O.  And one day perhaps you'll write a blog to your Son or Daughter and tell him or her all about them.  But for now I'm only focused on making those memories with you and loving every second of it...  Because you can never stop remembering the good times.

Speaking of good times, your MeMeow and Grandpa K9 came to town today Son.  Of course, they'd not seen you (in person) since April and in that time you've literally doubled in size!  You're hardly the same kid!  To see those who love you holding and playing with you, Boy'O, well, I can't explain it.  It sets a man like me at peace, if only for a few moments.

And now, everyone in bed, even the dogs, here I sit, waxing poetic again, Conor.  Guess it's just the wine on this night.  Though I'm not sure what it was last night!  Never the less, it's off to the rack for me, Son.  Tomorrow is a big day and I need all I have to tackle it.

I love you, Conor.
-Dad

Know Thyself

Day 224:

Know Thyself, Conor.  It's a catchy quote and, despite it's rather simple nature, it's a a few words which can actually mean so much, or so little, to so many.  Waxing poetic, I realize... Allow me to expound on where I'm coming from...

In finding some recent fascination with the term, given you and so many other things about my / our lives in general, I found this to be the easiest to understand in terms of it's ancient meaning...

"The proverb is applied to those whose boasts exceed what they are," and that 'know thyself' is a warning to pay no attention to the opinion of the multitude."

I found this explanation going back as far as the 10th century Suda - a book of Greek wisdom.  And I agree with it's example.  Know what you know and damn what others might think about what you unequivocally 'know'.  

The term "Know Thyself" was also used by great philosophers Plato and Socrates. to name a few, and through time it's been used to a purpose of some explanation or another for everything from the dawn of a religion to justification for fighting wars.  But for me it carries its own meaning, Conor.

Every day of your life holds an opportunity to learn, Son.  And the more you learn and understand, the more you 'know', the more you're shaped into the person you've always wanted to be, or the person you've never wanted to be.  Okay, okay, waxing again... But truthfully your life will be defined by what you know, what you love, and what you stand for.  Sometimes that's something as simple as a belief in a spiritual possession...  Other times it's a stark realization as to the realization of who you REALLY are.  And what I'm referring to in this case Conor, is you.

I was meant to be your Father, Boy'O.  Every moment we spend together, I learn more from you than you ever could from me.  Be they simple joys to the truth and understanding behind blind love.  For all the things I've ever possessed, and for all the things I've ever lost, in the 224 days you've been on this Earth I've gained more perspective as to what really matters than I ever thought possible...  There's just no way to get enough of you, my Son.  No way possible.

I still have my selfish moments, Conor.  Everybody does I imagine.  However, being your Dad is truly the tip of the spear in terms of finally understanding my life's calling.  Now, it doesn't end there of course.  You're without a doubt a large part of what will define me, though to "know thyself" also means I should be exceptional at whatever it is I do in life if for nothing else than to be an example for you.  And I've certainly got some work to do there, Son...  But without question those efforts now have a purpose they never did before.  You.

I love you, Conor.

-Dad