Sunny Shower

The baby shower was fantastic. The weather was amazing, we had a great turnout and everyone had fun. I feel so blessed and so touched to have so many wonderful people turning out to love and support our growing family. We are very lucky to have the family and friends we have. Kate, as always, was radiant and stunning. I am so happy, so lucky.

Random Thoughts on a Thursday

Our baby shower is on Saturday. We will have at least 42 guests in the front room of our north Oakland condo. The weather has been great lately. Sunny today, partly sunny tomorrow – and a glorious, radiant and warm sunny day on – well, Sunday. Saturday you ask? Rain. Rain and Thunder. We haven’t had thunder in Oakland in 42 years. But on our shower, we get showers. I suppose it makes sense.   After the Mountain Goats show last week, I downloaded their new album. Great album.

“I waited so long. And now I taste jasmine on my tongue. And I feel so. Proud. To be alive.”

That’s some good stuff.   

I can’t believe this is happening

March 5, 2004.  He is really starting to like her. She is learning more about herself, this world. Does she think he is interesting? He is cautious, though he cannot suppress what is happening inside. She invites him to her house. She invites him to spend the night. He becomes excited, but he harnesses his enthusiasm. He makes a plan. Meatballs. Vegan meatballs. He cooks for her with sauce, spices and love. They eat. One bottle of wine. Two bottles of wine.  They laugh, they share. She likes this guy. He is fun to hang out with. He is a decent guy. He already loves her.  Why don’t you sit down? She lays on her back. He kisses her neck. She turns her head. Their lips touch, embrace, open. I can’t believe this is happening. This is amazing.

March 5, 2008. She remains the most beautiful sight in his world. They promised to love each other for eternity. They have two cats. She is carrying his baby. They are soulmates. She makes his life worth living. He entertains her. They work. They worry. When they are together, nothing else matters. He loves her. She loves him. They read stories to their baby. He kisses her belly.  Their life is good, and it is only getting better. They walk through forests. They hug, they kiss. They look into each other’s eyes.  I can’t believe this is happening. This is amazing.

The Tao of Ikea

I have assembled so much Ikea furniture in my young adult life that I have come to truly admire their trusted, ingenious formulas – scalable, predictable and surprisingly easy. Comic-book-like drawings with spirited arrows, bubbly cartoon characters who encourage working with others  (and on rugs for that matter). What starts as a flat box of misshapen particle board with shiny veneers, a big bag of screws, plastic bolts, locking mechanisms, dowels is all magically unified by the venerable Ikea icon – the mighty allen wrench.  Many out there deride Ikea for hocking cheap, dorm room furniture, but I’m unabashedly a fan. It looks cool, and its so freakin handy it just makes me giggle. Its like the swiss army knife of furniture.  Anyway, the office is just about done. Tomorrow I start assembling the baby’s room. Crib that turns into a toddler bed. Toy box that doubles as a bench. Two drawer chest that converts into a changing table. All that, plus a toothpick and some tweezers.

Mountain Goats

Today, Kate and I took our unborn son to his first rock concert in the city. A Sunday matinee – an astoundingly gorgeous, sunny, warm day by the Bay.

A little bar at the bottom of the hill. Can’t remember the name.

Mountain Goats headlined, a couple decent bands opened up.  Loads of hipsters, singing along to the earnest, heartfelt poetry of John Darnielle.  In between songs, John shared his self-described “boring” theory regarding the term hipster.  That there is no such thing as a hipster, its just a term invented by those who think they’re hipsters to deride all others within that category. Like when someone says, “there’s too many hipsters in here,” really actually means, “I’m actually a hipster and all the rest of these people are posers,” or something to that effect.

He was rather idiosyncratic up there, sometimes hilarious while speaking, and consistently impressive while singing. His poetic storytelling and simple, rousing melodies leaves you thirsting for more. Especially since they didn’t even play my favorite Mountain Goats song – Palmcorder Yajna – nor any song, for that matter, from the one Mountain Goats CD I own.

I should probably get some more of their music.  

Kate got pretty tired half way through the show, but she is a trooper man. The baby didn’t do much to signal his approval or disdain for live indie rock. Just some kicking and such. Hopefully, one day, he’ll be happy to know that he heard a damn good live band two months before he was born. Here’s some video from the show.