SOME DAYS.

Some days, you get a message from your carrier in the morning saying you have less than 2% data remaining for the month that ends tomorrow, so you put your phone into airplane mode for the day while you're away from wifi to avoid paying an extra $20.

Some days, you drink coffee black.

Some days, you ditch responsibility and the growing list of to do's and take the family to the water park, and feel smug about how little guilt you feel, especially when the kids remember to say thank you at the end of the day.

Some days, you enjoy a random few minutes of conversation with a stranger about structural engineering and the amazing feats of genius it took to build airplanes and spacecraft in the 1960s.

Some days, your wife winks at you from across a crowded space filled with strangers and it makes you feel super good. Some days.

Some days, you watch your two-year old racing down a four-foot waterslide with an attitude of focus, enthusiasm, and energy that is infectious, and then you realize he's wearing a swim diaper and pray heartily that it holds up on his 497th descent of the slide.

Some days, you watch your eight-year old take on something scary and challenging and dark, like an enclosed supersonic waterslide, and you see him emerge with bravery and the confidence of the conquered, and you feel like Mr. Miyagi must have at the end of the first Karate Kid, even though you know it's not really about you.

Some days, you watch your 11-year old daughter-athlete exit a pool with her mischievous smile of undisguised joy and you want to grab onto that and do whatever it effing takes to keep that mischief and that smile and that inimitable sense of unique self growing boundlessly and eternally.

Some days, you exchange almost no words with your eight-year old son on a rainy afternoon drive because he's so deeply absorbed in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and you smile with happiness at being ignored for a splendid reason.

Some days, you think about stopping for coffee on a rainy day because you really feel like it, and you don't because then you'd wake up your sleeping wife who looks magical with little damp ringlets of blonde drizzled down her face after she's played hard, and besides it means you'd have to take your attention away from listening to Future Islands' Ran, and you're just not okay with breaking up that piece of magic.

Some days, you listen to Billy Joel's We Didn't Start the Fire, the Pixies' Gouge Away, and Xavier Rudd's Storm Boy back-to-back-to-back and think nothing of it.

Some days, you eat a bean burrito from Taco Bell when you're so hungry and it tastes like one of the top five burritos you've ever had in your life. You know it's not true, but for a few brief moments, it seems like it.

Some days, you fight with your wife over a book from the library your daughter finished, and you've both discovered it's pretty good, and then she's two chapters ahead and selfishly dived into bed with it before you could wrest it away. Some days that happens.

Some days, you look over at your wife in bed, reading the book you're supposed to be reading, and she's falling asleep and you can hear frogs singing away in the forest creek a hundred yards away and you know it's time to put the day to rest, because it was a good one, and also you still have .07% of data left on your cell phone plan that rolls over tomorrow, and you totally stuck it to them because you saved twenty bucks. Looks like you're gonna buy yourself some good coffee tomorrow. But that's a different day. Not today.

Some days, you realize were inimitable, like and unlike every other, and you'll carry some special snippets from it around with you for a while. Like...forever.

Some days.

Hey Becca, it's your anniversary, and mine!

...

We've been wed a while now. We should open that 20-year old can of Nuteena today.
___

Here's the plan: we listen to a bunch of ABBA and Judas Priest. And then wing the rest. #planner

___

In response to your upcoming inquiry: sadly, the answer is yes. The children DID get into the dark chocolate peanut butter cups you just got. I failed to stop them. I am so, so sorry.

P.S. The hashtag you invented is awesome.

#15andout

___

If someone was to get you either a giant television OR a motorcycle today, which one would you most prefer? #hypothetical #ornot

___

I don't want to freak you out, but Costco has Christmas stuff out, and I'm afraid if we don't jump on it now, everything will be gone. Shall I grab an extra cart and throw in everything I can fit? I'll get some straps to tie down stuff on top of our automobile too. One fake tree, or three, just to be safe?

#holidaypanic #valentinesdayiscomingfast

___

OVERHEARD (ANONYMOUS).

Let's look for a new mother on Pinterest,
one child grumbled to another with wicked grin.

No.
I said.

___

"Well-read people are less likely to be evil." *

So true, mostly. Doing our part to try and make the world less evil, along with the magnificent, personable Washougal Community Library. Thanks for being awesome and un-wicked.

*Mr. Lemony Snicket

HELP, THEY'RE READING TOO MUCH.

One of my favourite things: watching the facial range of emotions when a child is completely absorbed in a book. On an irrelevant related note, for the love of all that is holy and dear to Nina Simone, definitely listen to Benjamin Clementine's 2014 album. So delicious. ____ #44books #reading #ivyandbean @benjaminclementine

A post shared by Joseph Long (@josephivanlong) on Sep 1, 2017 at 11:10pm PDT

#SOUNDOFSILENCE.

A moment to relax...aaah.

SORRY, WONDER WOMAN.

Dear Becca, 

Accidentally just deleted you from my "favorites" contact list on my mobile phone. Probably won't have time to add you back this year. Sorry. Text me.

___

There's a new superhero movie coming out tomorrow? Had no idea. Bah. Big deal.

EMERGENCY BOOKS AND OTHER SURVIVAL TIPS.

Always have an emergency book and mobile art supplies on hand. Always. And preferably an emergency backup book, in case you finish the first one too quickly. Try to savor though. ____ #pdx #44portland #44books #portlandse #cremabakery #44portlandbusinesses #princecaspian #narnia #mdl09

A post shared by Joseph Long (@josephivanlong) on Apr 8, 2017 at 10:48pm PDT

READING BUDDIES.

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If one of them looks like he can't read yet, it's because well...he can't. Or perhaps I should say, he has made the decision to not put the effort into learning how to yet. Three months old and it sometimes feels like he's learned nothing. Off to Finland we go. ____ #earlychildhoodeducator #drseuss #44books #evel0

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You're not muddy enough. I said. Go play harder. And then he polished off the day with some Quentin Blake reading in the late afternoon sun. Summer in the air. ____ #childhood #childrening #pnw #outdoorsman #playharder

A post shared by Joseph Long (@josephivanlong) on Mar 31, 2017 at 11:51pm PDT

DUDE VS ELF. I wouldn't say The Big Lebowski is a staple on our household family Christmas cinema schedule, but watching distant cousin Elf, in installments this week, has brought me to a realization that they share something in common: these are possibly the ONLY TWO FLAWLESSLY STRUCTURED FILMS IN HISTORY. Forget Chinatown. They cannot be cut down by a single scene, there are no throwaway lines, scenes, shots, or cutaways. I'm not saying either Elf or Lebowski is my favourite film, or the best film ever (though they are wonderful); I am simply saying they are subatomic-good. They cannot be split.* One film a massive cult classic, the other a massive mass classic; both stripped down, no fat examples of films that demand and reward repeated viewings (or, just LISTEN to them all the way through sometime). There are three films that I would love to see a sequel to, but I hope I never have to, because they ended just where they were meant to end. Except I wouldn't mind seeing Buddy and The Dude share some screen time in a holiday spinoff... I would also highly recommend Christmas in Connecticut, the 1945 Barbara Stanwyck classic. She does not appear in either Elf or The Big Lebowski, and in fact, I would not call these three films highly similar. Feliz navidad. ____ *physicists, fact-check me** **privately*** ***or just ignore any trivial physics misstatements; those laws of the physical universe are really more suggested guidelines, I think. . #christmas2016 #longx4 #pnwonderland #biglebowski #elf #joesacco #44books http://ift.tt/2h5H1BP December 07, 2016 at 10:27PM

DUDE VS ELF. I wouldn't say The Big Lebowski is a staple on our household family Christmas cinema schedule, but watching distant cousin Elf, in installments this week, has brought me to a realization that they share something in common: these are possibly the ONLY TWO FLAWLESSLY STRUCTURED FILMS IN HISTORY. Forget Chinatown. They cannot be cut down by a single scene, there are no throwaway lines, scenes, shots, or cutaways. I'm not saying either Elf or Lebowski is my favourite film, or the best film ever (though they are wonderful); I am simply saying they are subatomic-good. They cannot be split.* One film a massive cult classic, the other a massive mass classic; both stripped down, no fat examples of films that demand and reward repeated viewings (or, just LISTEN to them all the way through sometime). There are three films that I would love to see a sequel to, but I hope I never have to, because they ended just where they were meant to end. Except I wouldn't mind seeing Buddy and The Dude share some screen time in a holiday spinoff... I would also highly recommend Christmas in Connecticut, the 1945 Barbara Stanwyck classic. She does not appear in either Elf or The Big Lebowski, and in fact, I would not call these three films highly similar. Feliz navidad. ____ *physicists, fact-check me** **privately*** ***or just ignore any trivial physics misstatements; those laws of the physical universe are really more suggested guidelines, I think. #christmas2016 #longx4 #pnwonderland #biglebowski #elf #joesacco #44books

A post shared by Joseph Long (@josephivanlong) on Dec 7, 2016 at 10:27pm PST

IN WHICH WE FACE THE MONTH WITH APLOMB.

In which the holidays are upon us, and we face them with aplomb. ____ #longx4 #selfportrait #44books #44analog #beret

A photo posted by Joseph Long (@josephivanlong) on Dec 1, 2015 at 10:22pm PST

EILONWY (PEAS IN A ).

Probably one of the most currently underrated classic children's authors I can think of is Lloyd Alexander. He wrote a bunch of books that were pretty good, but his pinnacle was the five-book Prydain Chronicles and the (for older readers) Westmark trilogy.

Delicious blends of high fantasy and adventure, comedy, sometimes dark and provoking themes, and a love of Welsh mythology and Dickens-channeling characters have kept him high on my bookshelf ever since I first read him many decades ago. So good. Also, I love a decent mystery and enjoyed the one John Green I've finished so far. One lifetime for so many books...

I think,
she said.
That you would really enjoy this book. It's REALLY good!

Oh really.
I said.
Tell me about it.

It's about,
she said.
a mystery that has to to do with Michelangelo and some kids who sneak into a museum. I bet you would really like it.

Okay.
I said.
I will have to read it. But perhaps I will read it on a couch.

YOUNG, ARMSTRONG, HARRIS, GAIMAN.

It is difficult to calculate the degree of joy 

I felt when I looked up recently, and

realised my daughter and I were simultaneously reading

different Neil Gaiman books.

There is a special bond that comes with sharing your literary loves with someone else.

girl reading Neil Gaiman (2015-06-24) ©joseph ivan long

I'VE GOT THE SUN ON YOUR BACK.

A cuppa Joe*,
a good cap,
morning sun on your back**
sounds of the city
and someone to pal around with
and not correct you for improperly using prepositional phrases and such.
As the Utah Saints said in the only good song they ever wrote:
there's gotta be something good about today.
Find it.
smile emoticon
____
*or something hot non-caffeinated
**or face, depending on which way you're facing, or if you're in Australia

Powell's Books

WORK.
There's a lot to grumble about in the world.
And I totally love grumbling.
It feels good,
like you're doing everyone a favor by noticing all the things not right.
Some places are really hard to grumble in.
Which means you have to work at it.
No couches?
No lemonade on tap? What's with the harsh light?!
If you're willing to work hard though, and really
take time away from doing something fun, then it's definitely possible to find something worth grumbling about.
The value of hard work.
Don't give up.
Just because you think you're happy,
doesn't mean you should be.
So look around.
There is probably something wrong.
You might have to work hard to find it.
Depending on where you are.
You can do it.
____
Happy* Mondays, universe smile emoticon
*unless you're working**
**see above

OSHA READY.

In the furthest recesses of my memory,
I try to recall,
or imagine,
a world in which we had no children to assist with household chores.
But it is too challenging,
and the thought of going back to that world;
a world in which the adults had to do all the work ourselves,
is simply too horrid to dwell on.
Thank goodness for enthusiastic work ethics,
good shop vacs, and extra-safe safety accessories.

PEOPLE > LAWNS.
Do you want to see my really serious expression?
he asked.
Sure.
I said.

And then finish landscaping really quick. Almost there.

The Reader.

AORTA.

I'd like to think I have a decent music sensibility, and a relatively alive cultural awareness, but I also hope I'm the kind of person who never stops getting goosebumps when Phil Collins comes on singing "You'll Be in My Heart."

Jonny Long, I know you know what I mean.

____

Phil Collins

You'll Be in My Heart

Tarzan soundtrack

1999

WAX ON, THEN WHAT? (QUESTION DU JOUR).

"But what if I don't know all the moves?"

- our son, getting changed into uniform before his first karate lesson ever, furiously firing off combinations of kicks he's been working on in his free time and growing concerned that he may not have every karate move in existence already figured out.

Well.
I said.
Who knows? Maybe your instructor will teach you some things you didn't know before.
____

It's hard to let go of stuff you think you already know when you're trying to learn something new. But it kinda helps. I'm planning to learn that life lesson sometime soon too.

How to gracefully deal with someone sitting on your book while reading.

MONEY, BOOKS, AND THE CREATIVE PROCESS IN THE PURSUIT OF GIFTMAKING.

Can I have some money?
she asked.

What for?
I asked.

For books.
she said.
I have to get more books. And you promised we'd always have plenty of books and art supplies and now I'm running out of books. So, we need to go to the bank and get some money so I can buy some more books. Can we go now?

Wow.
I said.
You are good.

He was cranking out Christmas presents.
But when he found out it was his uncle's birthday,
it leaped to the top of the priority list.
Rarely has a gift had so much love, focus, and hot glue poured into its making.
Look out holidays, it's gonna be a handmade one to the extreme.

____

Of course this isn't a competition to see who survived the most dreadful weather last night, but the wind speed hit 270 miles* an hour at our house. At least one tree down, approximately sixty feet in diameter. Conservative estimate. Be safe, PNW peeps.

*ballpark

REACH REALLY HIGH, BUT DON'T PULL ANY MUSCLES, OR BREAK THE COOKIE JAR.

Reach for the sky.
Reach for your dream.
Reach for a book.
And if you're too short...
be resourceful. Go after the top shelf. Usually that's where the cookie jars are too.

I AM BOOK.

First off, thanks to Sharika for the Echo Donut Lounge recommendation! Been there twice now; love the space and the people
Second, my mom came up with the great idea, while we were coffee-ing and donut-ing, to each choose a book on the shelf that best described us. We approached this task with thoughtfulness and careful deliberation.

BIRTHDAY: MDL #7.

1.

Why are you staring at me like I'm the birthday girl?

she asked.

Because,

I said.

You ARE the birthday girl. Literally. It is your birthday.

I know.

she said.

But you're staring at me. Can we go to Powell's now since it's my birthday?

Could we possibly wait,

I asked,

until I've gotten dressed, and possibly until it actually opens?

Fine.

she said with resignation.

2.

Who did you guys FaceTime without my permission?

I said, storming into the bathroom to find our son on the toilet with iPad in his lap, chatting away while his techno-Svengali sister stood by with a satisfied smile.

Daddy!

he shrieked.

Please leave! We're having a conversation with Uncle Jonny, and it's like the best conversation ever!

His sister confirmed this assertion.

He tilted the screen my way, and yes, my brother's face filled the screen as he also confirmed this. I shook my head, crossed my fingers, and exited the best conversation ever, since I wasn't invited.

3a.

Okay dudes.

I said.

Let's grab some lunch.

But Daddy!

she pleaded.

Can we please go to the library first? It's the most important thing in the world to me.

I sighed, and headed to Don Pedro's for burritos.

3b.

Our son, who has shown total disgust and disinterest in ever watching any kind of sports, sat in our booth with eyes glued to the station broadcasting the World Cup match between Argentina and The Netherlands. In Spanish.

I'm going for the Orange team.

he announced in his little megaphone voice.

Orange is The Netherlands.

I said.

Yeah. I'm going for them.

He proceeded to provide a lively play-by-play that provided little* in the way of relevant information about the action, but did provide a certain clarity regarding his philosophies on a number of things, including optimal uniform colours, injuries that could potentially dismember an athlete, sports that involve kicking versus throwing, the quality of his bean and rice burrito, and the issue whether or not any of the players were evil. Nowhere in his discourse, however, was there any acknowledgment or discussion of the fact that the television commentary was in Spanish; a language he has not yet learned fluently.

Unless...his sister has been teaching him behind our backs...

4a.

Daddy,

she said.

I would rather have books than food.

Really?

I said.

Yes,

she said.

I wish we lived in a library.

4b.

How much would it cost to buy Powell's?

she asked. 

I wish we could live there. More than a hundred dollars?

Yes.

I said.

More than a hundred.

More than a thousand?

Yes.

I said.

More than a thousand.

More than a million?

Yes. 

I said.

More than a million. Maybe...50 million?**

Well.

she said.

Can you work harder so you can make fifty million dollars and then we can buy Powell's and live there?

Problem is,

I said.

I don't think it's for sale.

5. RECAP.

We made it to Powell's, where she whittled down her stack to...one, which she purchased herself and left with $1.01 in change, which is a small but not insignificant step toward $50 million.

Then we made it to the library, where I used my VIP pass to get us in for free, and we somehow exited with enough books to probably, should we sell them on eBay***, provide a big chunk of the 50 million $s.

But like I said, I don't know that Powell's is actually for sale. Cross your fingers for us.

____

UPDATE:

-Argentina, sadly, won.

-after she whittled down her book choices to ONE, her uncle (Jonny) picked up several of her precious alternates for her; a gift that was received with enthusiasm for three seconds and then headlong focus as she dived into them. 

____

*nothing

**off the top of my head - I have no idea. Anyone?

***which we would, of course, not do ever

BIRTHDAY WISHES.

Lee Long.

Happy birthdaY MDL "Claire". You're one of the funniest, most witty , smartest, sweetest people I know. I love you!

Sue Long.

Night night sweet daughter of yours and granddaughter of mine! I hope it was the perfect birthday, x's 7! I smiled every time I thought of her and am SO lucky to be her Gramma Susie. I look forward to hearing all about your Powell's Adventure, and the rest of the day. Hugs again, mixed with love! xoxo

GUILT TRIP (YOU CAN BECOME ANYTHING YOU WANT TO BE EXCEPT, WELL, A SUCCESSFUL CRYOGENIC).

Amidst all the graduation hoopla this time of year and all the accompanying bright potential and glorious future talk, I just realised I may not survive to see the the 22nd century. Man, that stinks. Well...happy weekend, everyone! Many great things ahead for some of you, or some great things ahead for all of you. Hope you enjoy next century, and please don't think about me not being around for it.

GUILT TRIP, PT. 2.
"Daddy, may I please have one of your business cards so I can learn more about you?"

- my daughter, with a smile the mischievous side of the Mediterranean, where I do not own a villa on the sea because I am not yet successful enough to do so. 

But she doesn't know that.

At least she didn't.

COUCH.
There are 24 hours in a day.
She would like to spend 25 of them reading.

She really needs to get a job.