sentimental schoolyard

At some point, when leaving Ruby to enter school, she gets out of the car and walks by herself across the parking lot (the schoolyard) to go to class. All of a sudden, in my eyes, I am not with her; she seems alone, bringing herself to the door, without me.

I know it's sentimental to think of her, her hand in mind, all the way to the building in our own, joyous stride. But now she is being independent, more than ever, right now, to me.

When she says (so I still feel like she needs me, I hope) "will you come with me?," I must and always say "yes."

it's a good day to

A few days ago, Jim Carroll died. We heard it on the morning radio as we were going to school (2nd grade). Ruby anxiously wondered, "Who was Jim Carroll?". I said he was an author, a singer and songwriter. She asked how old he was when he died. I answered, "60". She replied, "Well, that makes sense."

getting taller

On our way home from getting water-ice ( wildberry for me, chocolate for her) I asked Ruby to stand next to me to see how she is growing up. The top of her head came to the bottom of my chest. She remarked, "Wow, I'm up to your privates."

the stars need to be polished

Today, like most days, Ruby and I see trash which is recycleable on the streets when we go to church or school. If I don't notice something, she does, points to it and brings it to my attention: "Daddy...."

I'm in the habit now of picking up aluminum cans along with plastic and glass bottles on the way back home to put them in our industrial-blue recycle bin. When we came back this hot morning, my total was five. Even though the ocean becomes a soup of plastic, we just feel like it's something we should do.

I said to my wife I still can't believe why people let this happen. Ruby said, "Yeah, because some people are litter-bugs and don't want the Earth to be shiny. The stars need to be polished, the sun has to be cleaned and its strokes (meaning its rays) have to have lip balm on them."

haiku advice (for Linh Dinh)

fuck the streets, the beat
doorways, bums, drunks, hustlers
dig smokin' hot chicks

only hamsters are sexy

I visited Ruby's dance class one windy afternoon and thought the warm-up song blaring from the portable disc player was a little risque for seven to eleven year olds. The hit single in question was Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl."

Ruby asked me what 'risque' meant. I said it was more appropriate for older kids, like 'grown up stuff' that had to do with how people behave, like dress-up, but different, sort of burlesque.

She asked curiously about that word, too. I said it was like a show where characters act in funny ways, sometimes to laugh at the things they do or are, yet seriously take on certain subjects (again) more for adult concerns.

She said that was cool. It reminded us of a hamster she noticed at a party with a coller around its neck which had a name on it that she spelled for me but wasn't sure she was allowed to say out loud. The word is s-e-x-y.

I explained only hamsters can be sexy. At this, of course, she laughed.

pray for rain - and sun

Recently, Ruby and I went to church where, as far as transubstance is concerned, she remarked that the priest was making pancakes and fruit punch. I whispered to her that it was symbolically the body and blood of Jesus, his sacrifice at the Last Supper to remember him by.

I said, as we walked home beneath the swift clouds and through a steady rain with flowered and black umbrellas, that I would pray for Ruby to get better from her Pink Eye. She replied she would pray for my back to feel better, as it is 'out' and very painful.

She yelled at the sky to listen to her for me to get well. She asked if my back was fixed. I said prayers take time, you have to have patience. She said, "Why do we have to wait?" I told that's what we do, like for the sun to come again, to remember what happens before and what's next.