MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR. AND STREET SWEEPERS.

“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as a Michaelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, 'Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.”
Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Ahead and together we bumble forward and sideways into the unknown.

People talk about what a big deal courtside seats are, but personally I think there's plenty of charm to a bird's eye view.

— with Matt Nutter at Moda Center at the Rose Quarter.

MY HEART IS BEING ATTACKED, BUT IT'S LOVE; HOPEFULLY I'LL SURVIVE UNTIL CHRISTMAS.

We walked into the store for something.
Not for costumes or battle axes or hockey masks.
But the Halloween assault was already eeking out a few extra days
and extra dollars and extra shelf space in mid-September.
High on the list of things I would ban as world dictator would be premature holiday celebrating, unless it's singing Christmas songs in July. 

We walked into the store for something;
And he did what every ad agency wants every child to do when they see something they never knew they needed: massive intake of breath with the sudden realisation, viscerally, immediately, absolutely, that they now need something worse than they've ever needed anything in the history of forever. Because it is there. And it wouldn't be there unless they were supposed to have it. It has moved from non-existence to awareness to oxygen-level NEED in the space of three seconds. 

DADDY, LOOK!
he pointed and pleaded and floated in the air as the Frankenstein heads and superhero capes and dangling skeletons and bloody plastic swords reached out their invisible tentacles to pull him in; and pull out his parents' wallets.

Yep.
I said.
Cool costumes.

:hyperventilation
Can we look can we see them did you see the sword can we please just look real quick oh look daddy can I show you something can we look?

After we get school supplies,
I said.
We will look for a few minutes.

Okay.
he said.

A short while later, we ended up there, admiring face paints and synthetic purple hair and $6 fishnet stockings and enough plastic facemasks to give Zdeno Chara nightmares. We found ourselves at an end display filled with plastic tridents. 

LOOK!
he squealed.
Can you pull one out so I can hold it?!

Buddy.
I said.
We're not getting a trident.

Okay.
he said.
But can you take a picture of me holding one?

Buddy,
I said.
That's a great idea. Unfortunately, my phone is dead, so I can't.

That's okay.
he said.
Can you just LOOK at me holding it then? 

Buddy,
I said.
Of course.

So I watched him holding the cheapest-made little trident you've ever seen;  happy little Poseidon testing out weaponry.

Daddy,
he turned to me.
When we get home can I start making my costume? I'm going to build a trident and superhero armor. Or maybe superhero ninja armor.

Buddy,
I said.
Absolutely.

We got home;
zero time waste as he assembled his tools:

scissors
construction paper
needle
thread
blow torch (just kidding)
marker
fabric

and went to work.

It will be an ongoing project.
This is his first piece of armor. 
If you're finding it a challenge to decipher the lettering,
it says (he says):

"Armor"

So that any potential enemies will know what he is wearing. 
A deterrent, which I personally think is rather Sun Tzu-savvy.

Stylish, functional, one-of-a-kind.

What inspired you to build your armor like this?
I asked.

I got the idea,
he said.
From the store.

Well,
I thought.
Perhaps premature holiday displays do have their place.
Cheers for inspiration in hideous places. 

Buddy,
I said.
I'm going to hug you.

And I did.

Then we fought
and he wore his armor.
He survived. 
To survive another day is to succeed at something.

Here's to success.

A Visual Depiction of The Seven-Second Rule.

IS THIS IT : TWO SISTERS AND THREE OTHER PIECES OF ADVICE BY ME AND THE STROKES.

Couple weeks ago, my sister called me up. She said: wanna go to a movie? On me?

I said: Uhh, yeah.

So we went to see Skyfall, the newest Bond, in which 007 again performs incredible feats of daring and romance while keeping intact his Tom Ford suit and dark wit.

Also (this was at Cinetopia, the most luxurious movie theater in the galaxy), she got us popcorn, fries, and Caesar salad, and we watched some really good trailers, including one for a Tom Cruise film that looks as if there will be many broken bones, yet apparently is squeaking by with a PG13. Anyway. Skyfall was a magnificent experience, and it was not my birthday. It was just another ordinary day made extra.


Leanna, early- to mid-1980s

Walked into my classroom last Monday and a student brought a latte up to me: "Your sister left this for you."


Lanessa, June 2000 (4.5 years old)

This is the amazing part: this was a different sister. A totally different one. And it was the third time this year that she has pulled a stunt like that. Brought me coffee at school, and it has happened on the most perfect mornings when my eyes were bleary from being a semi-successful media mogul working many late nights and getting up too early to also help educate young minds.

If you have done the math, you may have counted two. Two sisters. Not one. Two. Which leads me to a few pieces of life advice:

1. Drink a lot of water every day. Try adding some lemon.
2. Listen to a lot of music every day. Work in some Rachmaninov and Mates of State.
3. Give people your attention when they're talking to you.
4. Try to get two sisters like the ones above (these ones are not available as sisters).

As a rule, I find the pursuit of perfection better left to folks like Michelangelo and Usain Bolt. It's more challenging to find adventure when you're doggedly on a single path with horsey flaps over your eyes. Probably a good thing sometimes. I have so much more fun though pursuing the ecstatic messiness of falling and failing.

So perfection is like a casual perk that falls into your lap once in a while, like a couple sisters who are perfect - not perfect in an absolute sense as human beings, because, for example, one of my sisters forgets to charge her phone every night - but perfect for me, in a relative sense, with their role as my siblings, in which they treat me to pleasant treats and hug big.

Also, other bits of perfection that I have accidentally discovered are the enchiladas of Micael Serrano, the cardamom bread of Matt Westermeyer, and the drumming of Fabrizio Moretti, the Strokes percussionist. On the title track of their 2001 debut Is This It, his robot-with-a-heart drumming lugs the droll song along like a split cupcake of Anthem and Ballad. Perfection. Greatest Song Ever. Definitely.


November 2006

I wonder what today would be like if I had a third sister?

The Strokes
Is This It
Is This It
2001

This Is a Long Drive for Someone With Everything to Think About

One fabulous year of Johannes Xavier Ivan.

june 28, 2010

july

august

september

october

november

december

january

february

march

april

may

june 28, 2011

Oh, how I like him.

Sew I Say, Sure We Can

Daddy, can we please sew a purse this morning? 

Sure, I said. Let's do it...later. How about this evening?

Fine, she said. I will draw a pattern. But...will you please put it on the calendar so we don't forget?

That's it, I said. I dropped the dishes and swept her up. 

We are going to sew now. 

We sketched out some pictures of what she wanted to make. Made a little pattern, which we very much did not follow. Picked out some fabric. Cut, snipped, pinned, hemmed, and covered up a hole on one side with a Beatles album cover. One of the things I love about sewing is the great conversations you can have during the process. There is a high degree of patience involved - particularly with a little hand snuggled on top of mine, helping guide fabric through - that makes it difficult to do anything except concentrate on the undulating needle and converse about...stuff.

We spoke of tennis, baking, painting, and her upcoming birthday. She also informed me that she forgot to brush her teeth this morning, so she should probably have some gum instead so her breath wouldn't smell bad.

The purse turned out decent. It now holds her markers and a small drawing pad. Fun, simple project. Magdelana handles all the backstitching, loose thread snipping, pin gathering, presser foot maneuvering, and helps out carefully with the actual sewing portion.

If you have any simple sewing projects that are "all-ages friendly," I would love to hear!