![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The call came less than an hour after Eleanor left for work, and as with many things around here, I was all kinds of clueless about it.
Em's art teacher was calling her at home on a weekend. Not totally unheard of- the kid is one of her star pupils- but the call was about something I knew nothing about.
An art show reception. At a local college- the one across the street from her high school- taking place in less than an hour. Can I go, Dad, canIcanIcanI?
Of course, I replied. I have some other stuff to take care of, but I'll drop you off and get back in time to see whatever's in this show you're supposed to see.
::insert loud "wrong answer" buzzer and sound of my only child's crest falling::
Um, no. She needed me to go with her. Eventually, it developed in my slow-moving cranium that the artwork in question was hers.
Emotion ensued. Finally, after convincing her that I simply hadn't understood the significance of the show at hand (I've dropped her off at that school for anime shows in the past, but this was not that), we set out- and got to see a collection of work by young artists that the college's art department head called "stunning," and with good reason.
Emily did not win any of the assorted awards given out at the reception. Except my much clearer understanding of her needs, and knowing I'd gained some up-close appreciation of her talent:
(That's a self-portrait, if you haven't met the grrl.)
We've long since made up, but I really wonder sometimes why I can miss some of the most obvious things under my nose.
Despite the faltering economy, our junk mail volume continues unabated, and if anything has increased in the past few months.
Part of it is AARP continuing to hound me for membership. I've called in an effort to head off any more of that. We'll see.
The latest, though, seems to be in honor of Emily having just turned 17. The first came the other day. Last night's pile brought this WOW REAL COOL solitication on the outside of the envelope:
Laptops. Headsets. Hot chicks. What high-tech employer in Warminster PA could be hiring?
( The shocking answer: )
Father and Daughter
Jun. 18th, 2006 08:00 pmIt's funny. This is my 15th Father's Day observance with me as a father (the 16th if you count the kid in utero), and I still haven't quite gotten used to the concept of me being the honoree rather than the honoror. Whether that's a function of my never-ending attempt to hold on to youth, or my conflicted feelings about my own father's influence on my own life, I'm not sure. I just know that it doesn't come as naturally to me as does a birthday or even an anniversary (which I haven't had all that many more of).
This year helped. The gift was Paul Simon's newest album, Surprise. It played to me on a number of levels. Simplest, the music. I love what he's done with his talents over the years. For one who entered our consciousness around the same time as Sir Paul McCartney, whose 64th birthday caused us mostly to look back, this new album proves thatSir The Other Paul is still putting out amazing, relevant and musically interesting stuff in the here and in the now.
Nostalgiacally, although I doubt Eleanor remembered, this weekend marks the second anniversary of our seeing Paul, and that other guy he used to sing with, in concert here in Buffalo. Here's my blog entry from back then which tried to bring home just how meaningful it was to see this particular pairing, back together again as Old Friends, once in our lifetimes.
But what really nailed the gift as an observance of this particular holiday was the last track, which is shared for any who want it here-
http://www.yousendit.com/transfer.php?action=download&ufid=B8836D0C6D5D1255
- in which Paul speaks of the love between his own heart and his own daughter. Making the connection even closer is that Paul's son Adrian- born the same year as our daughter- sings backup on this remarkable tribute to his own sister, which goes like this:
If you leap awake
In the mirror of a bad dream
And for a fraction of a second
You can't remember where you are
Just open your window
And follow your memory upstream
To the meadow in the mountain
Where we counted every falling star
I believe the light that shines on you
Will shine on you forever
And though I can't guarantee
There's nothing scary hiding under your bed
I’m gonna stand guard
Like a postcard of a Golden Retriever
And never leave till I leave you
With a sweet dream in your head
I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loves his daughter more than I love you
Trust your intuition
It's just like going fishing
You cast your line
And hope you're getting a bite
But you don't need to waste your time
Worrying about the market place
Try to help the human race
Struggling to survive its harshest night
I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loves his daughter more than I love you
I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loves his daughter more than I love you
Happy Fathers Day to the fathers, and the daughters, and the sons.
This year helped. The gift was Paul Simon's newest album, Surprise. It played to me on a number of levels. Simplest, the music. I love what he's done with his talents over the years. For one who entered our consciousness around the same time as Sir Paul McCartney, whose 64th birthday caused us mostly to look back, this new album proves that
Nostalgiacally, although I doubt Eleanor remembered, this weekend marks the second anniversary of our seeing Paul, and that other guy he used to sing with, in concert here in Buffalo. Here's my blog entry from back then which tried to bring home just how meaningful it was to see this particular pairing, back together again as Old Friends, once in our lifetimes.
But what really nailed the gift as an observance of this particular holiday was the last track, which is shared for any who want it here-
http://www.yousendit.com/transfer.php?action=download&ufid=B8836D0C6D5D1255
- in which Paul speaks of the love between his own heart and his own daughter. Making the connection even closer is that Paul's son Adrian- born the same year as our daughter- sings backup on this remarkable tribute to his own sister, which goes like this:
If you leap awake
In the mirror of a bad dream
And for a fraction of a second
You can't remember where you are
Just open your window
And follow your memory upstream
To the meadow in the mountain
Where we counted every falling star
I believe the light that shines on you
Will shine on you forever
And though I can't guarantee
There's nothing scary hiding under your bed
I’m gonna stand guard
Like a postcard of a Golden Retriever
And never leave till I leave you
With a sweet dream in your head
I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loves his daughter more than I love you
Trust your intuition
It's just like going fishing
You cast your line
And hope you're getting a bite
But you don't need to waste your time
Worrying about the market place
Try to help the human race
Struggling to survive its harshest night
I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loves his daughter more than I love you
I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loves his daughter more than I love you
Happy Fathers Day to the fathers, and the daughters, and the sons.
Reminisces after a fairly dull boring day
May. 6th, 2005 09:45 pmAlmost concurrently with the sun coming up yesterday, Emily's swingset got taken away to a new life. Not by the trash pickup company, but by one of the kinda spooky-yet-cool scavengers who I've occasionally seen plying the trade while walking the dogs on Garbage Night Eve now and again. This one came yesterday morning, while I was in that twilight time between animal feeding and really having to get up for working time. The truck was apparently full of the usual mix of discarded screen doors, hot water heaters and assorted appliance parts. Why someone would want a pile of decaying aluminum, with rusted-out holes around the hardware and full of bees' nests, is beyond me, but hey. One man's trash....
----
Today was devoted to getting my Continuing Legal Ed credit in order, mostly, for the 2004-05 reporting cycle- seven glorious 50-minute hours of credit toward my biennial quota of 24 for listening to presentations on the new value exception to the absolute priority rule, appraisal rules and procedures for Pond motions, and the three different kinds of D&O insurance available to fiduciaries of Chapter 11 companies. Thrills.
Today's Batavia-based festivities just happened to fall on a significant weekend. It was 20 years ago today that I made my first appearance before the Bankruptcy Court in Western New York and received my admission certificate from the then-clerk (and now seniormost of the Judges) of the Court. My sponsor was the genius partner who hired me, who just over a year later (and barely two years older than I am now) was dead of a heart attack from overwork. It was a day of reminisces about such things, as so many cases and fellow practitioners from the last two decades were in the room and in my mind as we went over various dull things.
The weekend will bring a sadder recollection. It was ten years ago this week, after moving here and giving up what would have been a lucrative but mind-numbing prior job, that I met with the lawyers who hired me away and we came to the mutual conclusion that their practice wouldn't be expanding in the directions I needed it to. Three months later, I was back on the Thruway with the group I remain with. I remain on great terms with the guys here in Buffalo, but it's still saddening that we couldn't integrate our practices as well as we'd all hoped.
That's enough dullness for one night. I'm still looking for that Austin City Limits video, and will probably have some other tunes to put up before the weekend is out. Lovelies to all:)
----
Today was devoted to getting my Continuing Legal Ed credit in order, mostly, for the 2004-05 reporting cycle- seven glorious 50-minute hours of credit toward my biennial quota of 24 for listening to presentations on the new value exception to the absolute priority rule, appraisal rules and procedures for Pond motions, and the three different kinds of D&O insurance available to fiduciaries of Chapter 11 companies. Thrills.
Today's Batavia-based festivities just happened to fall on a significant weekend. It was 20 years ago today that I made my first appearance before the Bankruptcy Court in Western New York and received my admission certificate from the then-clerk (and now seniormost of the Judges) of the Court. My sponsor was the genius partner who hired me, who just over a year later (and barely two years older than I am now) was dead of a heart attack from overwork. It was a day of reminisces about such things, as so many cases and fellow practitioners from the last two decades were in the room and in my mind as we went over various dull things.
The weekend will bring a sadder recollection. It was ten years ago this week, after moving here and giving up what would have been a lucrative but mind-numbing prior job, that I met with the lawyers who hired me away and we came to the mutual conclusion that their practice wouldn't be expanding in the directions I needed it to. Three months later, I was back on the Thruway with the group I remain with. I remain on great terms with the guys here in Buffalo, but it's still saddening that we couldn't integrate our practices as well as we'd all hoped.
That's enough dullness for one night. I'm still looking for that Austin City Limits video, and will probably have some other tunes to put up before the weekend is out. Lovelies to all:)
Young and youngatheart reflections
Sep. 14th, 2004 07:10 amThanks to OfficialGaiman for this year's poster for the New York Is Book Country celebration, mere weeks from now and 20,000 leagues down the Thruway:
http://members.aol.com/ndanger3di/nyibc.art
A little on the Goth side, perhaps, but I suppose even the trenchcoat Mafia has summer reading requirements.
I've never been to NYIBC, oddly enough, despite always looking for the display of the year's poster in the New Yorker. I was so enthralled by the 1991 edition- King Kong with reading glasses on, atop the Empire State Building reading "The Apes of Wrath"- that I made a detour on a court trip to the New York Public Library bookshop to bring one home. It's still framed and displayed in our hallway.
----
Emily had her confirmation class orientation last night.
For those who have missed my spiritual writings among the assorted lightning strikes: I hadn't set foot in that church in a good two years. My overt churchiness tends to take long ebbs after long flows. It was very important to me in high school, totally absent from my life for the next seven years of schooling, returned for all of our Rochester days and about half of our time back here, and then,... meh. The few couples our age we felt connected to all moved. The clergy came and went like women speaking of Michaelangelo in an Eliot poem. And somewhere in all that I got lost again.
Not sure if I'm back. By no means am I driving this bus to heaven (having already guaranteed the reservation at the other place for the first night- nice room in the Nixon Wing, overlooking the Muck Pit and a comfortable distance from the Bobby Goldsboro concert), but I've told Emily if it's something she wants to explore and commit to, I'll take her as far with it as she's willing and wanting to go. Even if it means dressing up for church once a week for nine months.
Stay tuned to see how long this lasts.
http://members.aol.com/ndanger3di/nyibc.art
A little on the Goth side, perhaps, but I suppose even the trenchcoat Mafia has summer reading requirements.
I've never been to NYIBC, oddly enough, despite always looking for the display of the year's poster in the New Yorker. I was so enthralled by the 1991 edition- King Kong with reading glasses on, atop the Empire State Building reading "The Apes of Wrath"- that I made a detour on a court trip to the New York Public Library bookshop to bring one home. It's still framed and displayed in our hallway.
----
Emily had her confirmation class orientation last night.
For those who have missed my spiritual writings among the assorted lightning strikes: I hadn't set foot in that church in a good two years. My overt churchiness tends to take long ebbs after long flows. It was very important to me in high school, totally absent from my life for the next seven years of schooling, returned for all of our Rochester days and about half of our time back here, and then,... meh. The few couples our age we felt connected to all moved. The clergy came and went like women speaking of Michaelangelo in an Eliot poem. And somewhere in all that I got lost again.
Not sure if I'm back. By no means am I driving this bus to heaven (having already guaranteed the reservation at the other place for the first night- nice room in the Nixon Wing, overlooking the Muck Pit and a comfortable distance from the Bobby Goldsboro concert), but I've told Emily if it's something she wants to explore and commit to, I'll take her as far with it as she's willing and wanting to go. Even if it means dressing up for church once a week for nine months.
Stay tuned to see how long this lasts.
