Wednesday, June 25, 2008


I'm sitting in Cabot Square with statue-Cabot's back to me. A very shaky old man has finally succeeded in lighting his cigarette after many failed attempts. He's very pleased with himself.

In a few months(!) I am going to be a father. Yesterday a crib was delivered to our apartment. It looks very much like the crib my parents used for my brothers and me. When people hear that I am going to be a parent (especially at school where most everyone is under 21) they often ask if I am afraid. To be sure, I am somewhat afraid (especially after reading so much Freud and Lacan lately.), but much more than that I am really damned excited to raise a kid with Danica. [ A homeless man just came up to me and asked me what I'm writing. "My will." ] Danica will be an excellent mother and, as I declared this morning, "I wouldn't mind having me as a father. I'm ok."

The other night I went with J. to the theatre to see T.J. Dawe perform a monologue. "The worst thing I can say about my father is that he was quiet," he said. The same could be said of my own dad, someone I look up to a great deal, though about whom I know very little. I once wrote a letter to him asking him to tell me about himself, but it remains unsent.

[ There's a man nearby with his groceries playing air guitar to a crowd of pigeons. ]

I want to talk to my kid. I want her or him to know who I am and what I'm all about. Whether or not s/he cares about what is going on in my head is out of my control, of course, but I'm determined to be open just in case. I can't wait to hear what s/he has to say.

1 comment:

Danica said...

Bonjourhi! I believe you said that you were "pretty OK." Personally, I think you're rad.