I am deeply saddened by MJ’s death. Not only was he my first idol, but it breaks my heart to have witnessed such a genuine soul collapse under the weight of his towering fame and be so harshly judged by a cruel and jaded culture.
Mostly though, after watching his daughter bear her soul to the world, I am so sad that three sweet little children lost their father.
I have no doubt that MJ’s music will continue to move and inspire the world forever. I just hope that his message of hope, unity, love rises above the unfounded and ignorant assumptions that darkened the last years of his life.
It was so awesome to have my mom here. With all the work she did around the house, she basically gave us a little vacation. More importantly, she was able to create such beautiful memories with her adoring grandchildren. She really bonded with Bodhi, teaching him something new everyday. Anybody who has ever met my mom knows what an exceptional human being she is and I am beyond lucky to be her son.
So when she left a few weeks ago, the reality of taking care of two babies at once hit us like a ton of bricks.
To compound matters a bit, work got real busy. With me off at court so much, Kate got more than her share of practice carting two babes around town, singing to Bodhi while bounching Sasha in the Bjorn, feeding Sasha while pushing Bodhi in the swing, trying to remain patient and calm while being serenaded by a chorus of crying.
Deep breaths.
Then Bodhi got a fever and a stomach bug. We had a couple sleepness nights, napping was irregular and short and he just wasn’t him normal, happy self. Not to mention the fact that he blew chunks all over Kate and himself. All of this of course meant that we were just as miserable as him. No sleep, sick baby, 3 week old girl and now I’m preparing for trial.
MOM!
Thankfully, Bodhi got better pretty quick. I hired a private investigator to interview some witnesses and got my subpoenas out the door. And each day that goes by, we become a bit more efficient and more comfortable with the tasks and habits that will hopefully form a healthy and workable routine.
I’ve been desperate for a vacation for quite some time. Happily, we’re leaving for Sea Ranch for 5 days on Friday. But we got a little head start this weekend, enjoying the beauty and sights in our own backyard.
Really, vacation is more about a state of mind than the merits of any particular destination. And with an amazing and beautiful wife and two precious babes to give me the best fathers day weekend ever, my state of mind’s been something like a Ritz Carlton on Bora Bora.
Here’ s a couple of videos from a kick ass weekend, starting with Baker Beach on Saturday.
I got my first taste this week of what it’s going to be like taking care of two babies alone.
My mom has done a great job spoiling us with her fantastic cooking and uncanny ability to juggle babies, laundry and dishes all while never missing a call on her constantly ringing cell phone. But even Superwoman sometimes needs a break.
So she heads out the door to go see a friend and Kate follows right behind to get a massage. And just like that, the door shuts and we are three.
I used to joke around about how I was going to train Bodhi (13 months) to help me take care of his little sister. The truth is that thoughts of dealing with two crying babies, both with poop in their pants, have kept me up many a night. I enter into this new adventure with no real game plan, just a vague notion that things will somehow magically work themselves out.
So Sasha soon calls out for food (sounds something like Jon Stewart’s impression of Dick Cheney, “maahhh”) and I realize that game is officially on. Thankfully, Kate pumped out a couple ounces before she left. I grab the bottle and start feeding my ravenous child.
Bodhi crawls up to us, sits on my lap and points to his baby sis. I tell him that I’m giving her “na na” (food) and he quietly and intently watches. I put her back in the swing, then head to the kitchen to fix myself some lunch.
After a few alarmingly quiet moments, I look over to the babes and I cannot believe what I see.
Bodhi is leaning over the swing, bottle in hand, trying to feed his baby sister! I immediately grab the camera and here’s what I got.
Bodhi woke up this morning at 5 a.m. He’s been sleeping through the night for a while now, usually starting his day between 7 and 9. Today’s unusually early beginning can likely be attributed to some new enamel ripping through his gums. I gave him baby tylenol and some milk and held him in my arms. And despite the early hour and even though he wasn’t going back to sleep, there was nothing else I would have rather been doing.
One of the things I have relished the most about having a brand new, super mellow baby girl who sleeps all the time, is having her lay on my chest and cuddling and kissing her to my heart’s delight. This is something I have not been able to do with the B-man for quite some time.
Sometimes when we’re at the park, or even at home, and I lay flat on my back, Bodhi climbs onto me like this.
And then, for just a fleeting moment, he rests his head on my chest and I hug him and it’s seriously one of the best feelings ever. But in a flash, before I can barely blink, his head pops up and his crawling and climbing and exploring recommences. He’s a busy guy and he has things to do.
His already hasty departure from babyhood seems to have been expedited by Sasha’s arrival. He’s a veritable giant compared to her.
But this morning was different. Once I realized he wasn’t going back to sleep, I sat down and held him across my chest with his long legs dangling onto the couch. And I snuggled him and hugged him and kissed him on his forehead and scratched and massaged his back. And he didn’t try to wiggle out, he didn’t flip over, he didn’t arch his back.
He just laid there. Calm, peaceful, content. He even closed his eyes.
Our baby girl was born on May 23rd. She’s five days old. Her name is Sasha Bel and she is sweet and precious and adorable. She is much more mellow than her brother was when he was first born. She’s pretty much always sleeping. She smiles in her sleep all the time. When she does cry, she sounds like a duck.
This is her.
Kate started experiencing contractions early last week. They were irregular, often strong and mostly short lived. By midweek, they had stopped altogether. After we saw the doctor on Friday, they started up again. This time they were stronger and more regular. The doctor told us she was 3 cm dilated and that we’d likely be having a baby that night or the next day.
So we decided to go see Star Trek.
Figured it would be a good diversion from the contractions and probably one the last times we’d be able to see a movie in a while. Sweet movie, but those of you who have seen it would probably agree that the first scene is precisely NOT what a woman in labor should be watching. Kate was not happy and found the movie to be louder and more stressful than she would’ve preferred, being in labor and all, but ultimately gave it a hearty thumbs up.
I drew her a bath when we came home. The contractions continued regularly. While in the bath, she felt a need to push and it was then we decided to head over to the hospital. We were both very calm and deliberative as we prepared our things. Almost as if we had just done this a year ago.
We got to the hospital around 10:30 and she was at 4 cm. We settled into our labor and delivery room, Kate got her medicine and we waited..And waited. And waited some more. We tried to get some sleep, but we were anxious and I found it difficult to sleep on a thin, hard couch with no pillow. It was a long night.
By morning, she was only at 6 cm. Baby was doing great but had not moved down too far. Kate’s doctor showed up at around 9 and broke her water. As soon as he did, Kate began to rapidly dilate and the baby’s head was suddenly visible.
It’s happening now. I grab a leg and the nurse grabs another and I tell Kate to push. One push and her head comes out. I continue to cheer on my beautiful and strong wife. One more push bubs. She gives it all she’s got, and the rest of our baby girl slithers out.
And just like that, we had a daughter.
My friend Omar aptly described my perspective on our second baby in two years. Less romanticized but just as amazing, overwhelming and beautiful.
Bodhi is adapting well to having a baby sister. He is such a good kid. Such a pleasure to be around. So happy. He kisses his sister and shows us her nose, her mouth and her ears. Then he shows us his own.
The past year, hanging out with Bodhi alone, and together as a family has been the best of my life. I am so excited to have a beautiful baby girl join us on all our adventures. In her first five days, she’s already made it out to Willard Park and the Tilden Little Farm. If she’d ever wake up for once, I’m sure she’d have a blast with us.
Those of you out there who are even remotely familiar with my lifelong friendship with Janek have undoubtedly “felt the wrath” of the Meeshkabae.
What began as a simple, yet irresistibly comical facial contortion evolved over the years into a language and worldview, encapsulating unabashed joy, creative expression and defiance of social norms.
At its core, lies the NEA face itself which, along with OH NA and NGA NGA constitute the “holy trinity” of Meeshkabae. With words or without them, as an exclamation, declaration or interrogation and infused with every imaginable human sentiment, NEA means everything and nothing all at once.
Janek’s thoughts on the matter, 10 years ago:
“If it is agreed that this phenomenon of compressing many simple ideas into a single complex idea does indeed exists, I would propose that this process may be taken to the extreme by hypothesizing that the idea of everything that one ever had the desire or need to express many be expressed through one word: NEA. We have discussed the compressive qualities of Meeshkabean language on several noted instances, but I don’t recall ever having taken it to this level. I suppose you might say that it’s akin to the idea Hawking’s Equation of Everything that which, if ever was successfuly formulated and solved, the solution would reveal the answer to everything, how the Big Bang started, up to every ocurring dynamic process, including this e-mail message I am writing to you now. Until such time, however, NEA will have to suffice. NEA?”
My response:
“The word NEA embraces a truth, but nothing comparable to the Truth science aims for. Meeshkabae, in my eyes resides in the world of art, the world of limitless creative potential and cannot be captured in a language like English that is dominated by exactness and the quest for cogency. It is a formless, directionless yet deeply profound language that creates an accompanying world of ecstatic satisfaction and joy. You are correct in that the word NEA says it all with beautiful simplicity. But I remain convinced that the truth is exposes is in no way inferior to the proposed Truths of a final theory put forth by science. In fact, I view NEA as something far more meaningful than a final theory of everything because NEA speaks directly to my engagement with the world, my lived reality that I create and map out with every person I meet, every thought I have and every decision I make. It tells me the way things are for me, not the way they are to some fabricated, faceless and detached perspective of objectivity. NEA, therefore, will not just have to suffice for now. This is all there is to it, there is nothing left to find. NEA? NEA? NNNNNEEEEEEEAAAA?…”
Having discovered and reveled in our discovered truth for most of my thirty years, I am compelled to share this gift with my Bodhi Boy. Initial exposure to the wrath is usually met with a vaguely disinterested confusion. One does not really know how to react, but one cannot look away. Bodhi was no exception.
While it doesn’t take long to solicit a response, it many not always be positive.
Soon enough, as familiarity grows alongside cognitive and perceptual development, the joyous essense of the Meeshkabae is ultimately conveyed.
As you can see by Bodhi’s reaction toward the end, every truth is shrouded in paradox and confusion often dampens delight.
Either that, or he’s just a little freaked out by his weird, weird dad.
Bodhi’s homeboy Ethan flew over from Jackson Heights for a visit. I’ve known Ethan’s mom since the 8th grade. When she decided to move to New York several years ago, I asked my friend Joe if she could crash at his place. I met Joe in New Delhi and traveled around India with him during the summer of 2001.
In 2007, I was ordained by the Church of Spiritual Humanism (dot com) and married them on a rooftop in Brooklyn. Ethan and Bodhi were born one day apart and, while their friendship may have been overtly predetermined, they seem to really enjoy each other’s company. They’re even collaborating on creative projects already.
Ethan showed Bodhi how to crawl, while Bodhi showed Ethan the wonders of eating table food. All in all a great visit, documented admirably by Ethan’s mom here.
On Wednesday, the sun finally emerges, beckoning the B-man and I to the Briones Regional Park. After a good old fashioned soak fest, the soft, rolling hills of the East Bay explode with life and color.
We hike the Bear Creek watershed then take back roads over the hill to Berkeley. I pull off to the side of Grizzly Peak Road at the top of the Berkeley hills to take in the view of the city and the bay while letting Bodhi finish up his nap. To my right, two young ladies are burning one down and blasting cacophony from their bright blue V dub.
Bodhi begins to rustle and it’s time to leave. I turn the key, but my car won’t start. Choking, wheezing, sputtering. Nothing. Then I realize I had left my lights on the whole time.
Crap. I’m at the top of the hill, no phone reception, my car won’t start and now Bodhi is crying. I look over to the girls parked next to me and smoke is billowing out of their windows. They look nervous as I walk over to ask them for a jump. Turns out they were in a fantastic mood and happily allowed me to clip my cables to their battery.
The next day, we got charged by a cow at Bort Meadow. Bodhi had been there once before, four days before he was born. This time, he’s strapped to my chest as we saunter through grass valley, absorbing the sun’s rays and soaking in the silence while a group of three cows calmly and happily mow the lush, natural lawn.
Immediately after I take this video, the cow in the middle looks up at me and takes a step forward. He abruptly exhales and gallops in place. My heart drops. Then he begins running at us.
Oh. My. God.
My water bottle falls to the earth as I admonish myself, “don’t run. Running might excite him even more.” I turn around and begin to walk. Briskly. He continues to run for a few more feet, then stops, whips his head around in a frenzy and gallops in place as if to say, “and stay out!”
Bodhi is becoming more and more mobile everyday. He can go from sitting up, to flat on his chest, to on his hands and knees, then back to sitting up again. With something to grab onto, he can pull himself to a standing position. When he does, he bobs up and down and grins, clearly very proud of himself. While not quite crawling yet, I did spot him scooting himself forward today on our smooth concrete floors. He shocks most people with the amount of food he consumes with his two bottom teeth and four more coming in up top.
After feeding him some milk the other day, he wiggled off my lap, sat next to me on the couch and joined me in watching the Warriors game. Moments like this remind me that he is becoming a little boy. Surprisingly, this does not really make me sad. It’s pretty exciting actually. Can’t wait to talk to the little dude one day. In the meantime, watching him learn about and manipulate the world around him continues to be my life’s greatest joy.
Went to a ska show a block from my house this weekend. The Street Vendors and The Uptones both played tight, clean and irresistibly skankable traditional ska music, and I was reminded how powerful and moving the combination of syncopation and full horn line can be. The real treat for me, however, was Hectic, an Operation Ivy tribute band who plays the “Energy” album from start to finish for every show. I was sincerely hoping that Jesse Michaels, who lives in Berkeley and, as recently as last year, played “The Crowd” at 924 Gilman with Mike Park would surprise the small, but enthusiastic gathering with a ditty or two, but was not too disappointed to dance my face off to some of the best music ever written performed admirably by some kids from Santa Rosa who clearly love Op Ivy a lot. Twenty years after Jesse Michaels reminded us that “nothing can be changed except ourselves,” his message of peace and unity is probably more pertinent today than it’s ever been before.
I started this web log a little over a year ago, inspired and moved by our first, most intimate glimpse at the new life we created. And the revelation, of course, that we were having a boy. Last week, with said boy strapped to my chest and Kate by my side, we witnessed another miraculous, jaw-dropping display of life’s greatest mystery.
This time, it went a little something like this:
Technician: Now, do you guys want to know the se…
Me/Kate: YES
Technician: (zooms in on a spot)
Me: (heart races)
Technician: You guys are gonna have a little girl.
Me: (fistpump) Bodhi, you’re gonna have a sister!
Bodhi: (doesn’t know how to talk but, if he did, would probably say something like) More avocado! More avocado!
No seriously though, I’m fairly certain he’s going to enjoy having a little sister . We’re certainly stoked.
It’s so easy to get bogged down with all the stress and pressures of everyday life and forget how truly blessed and lucky we are.
Bodhi remains a constant source of joy and inspiration. His mom is my soul mate. Inside her, a precious little girl is magically growing. We are healthy and live in a beautiful place. Today, we hiked the Berkeley Hills in sandals and shorts.
And in about nine hours or so, George W. Bush will no longer be president.
