Frey's Day

I helped out with Field Day at the kids' school. A field full of stinky li'l 8-year-olds...chunky latin kids, hardheaded black kids, uncoordinated white kids, stiff asian kids...and every variation on those themes. Junior divas, micro-Amazons, little warriors and future leaders swarmed the playground. It's always amusing to watch children interact. You can see the precursors of their adult selves in their juvenile behavior.

85% of the prepubescent female population are some bossy li'l heffaz.

---

There's something ironic about a little Latin-born guy in a big, American-made truck with a Spanish slogan on his back window in Olde English font.

---

I checked out Star Wars yesterday. Nerds are already crawling all over the movie picking at it like maggots on a wound. It was a good movie. People who like to nitpick at things have moved past the wonderment of childhood. Watch the movie through the eyes of a child, which is what most of us were when we were introduced to this "galaxy far, far away", and it's an outstanding movie. Regardless, as a body of work, Star Wars outshines any other franchise and any other movie project. I don't think you'll see anything else ever develop from the mind of a college film nerd to a six-movie franchise like this did.

Good job, Mr. Lucas.

---

I saw Unleashed last week. I was amused that most of the best martial arts movies of the last few years have all been French. Brotherhood of the Wolf, Kiss of the Dragon and Unleashed are all French films. The fight scene in the bathroom...CLASSIC stuff!

I'm feeling antsy...REALLY antsy.

Daddy

BamBam impressed me again with his sheer speed and athleticism last night. He didn't successfully escape my attack, but then: he's five. But, almost...

I don't think my father was ever as impressed with me as I am with my cubs. My firstborn is not as athletic as I'd want him to be, but he's been taking my football and my basketball outside a lot lately. That's a good thing. I don't think that I was all that athletic a child, but I stayed outside. I grew into my athleticism...and my body.

I spent 4 1/2 months in kindergarten and 4 1/2 in the first grade. Consequently, I was the youngest person in all of my classes except for the eighth grade. I was always picked last. It wasn't until I grew up and looked back that I realized that I was simply too young for some of the things that I was trying to do. After the clumsy period of my freshman year of high school, when I grew six inches in three months, I kind of grew into my body and my athletic efforts started showing results.

---

Alexi, my oldest son, sometimes asks me how to do things physically. I try to take time and show him the ways that I've found to effectively handle situations. He normally learns quickly, too. Little Bear relates, but she rarely asks "how". BamBam, on the other hand, already wears the assured confidence and swagger of an accomplished athlete. Every day, I wonder what kind of teen and man he'll become because he can already do things that I couldn't or didn't do until I was a teenager. He wears my smirk as if I was only keeping it warm for him.

This isn't to say that I don't have a sense of wonder about my firstborn. It's just that he reacts to things so often as I expect that I kind of know him. Li'l Bear surprises me sometimes with her acerbic remarks and makes me laugh out loud. BamBam swings for the fences with every response. I rarely know what's going to come out of his mouth next.

Sometimes, they're in a room discussing the world as they know it. There's no animosity or ridicule. They're just talking. I shamelessly eavesdrop. 10, 8 & 5...and the five-year-old is giving as much input as the 10-year-old. Or, they're all talking about somebody that gets on all their nerves...like the little boys next door. Whoo! Hilarious!

Can you tell that I love being a daddy? As I've said before, people have it all wrong. "Father" is a social term describing a biological relationship. "Daddy" is a term of endearment. I'm not just the sperm donor. I'm the backstop for them. They think that I know everything and that I can do anything. I just hope our relationship survives the coming realization that I'm just a man. A big, strong, fast & capable man...but, only a man.

Shoot, my own ego almost shattered when I realized that about myself.

Anyway, time for City of Heroes.

A New Chapter...

I'd love to be a skydiving jumpmaster. I'd make the new guy wait until last. I'd have every one jump one-at-a-time on the count of three. When it's the new guy's turn, I'd have him stand at the door, begin my countdown and push his ass in the middle of his back on "2". He'd fly out of the plane wearing this look of sheer terror. He'd also pee all over himself...

Hah! Priceless!

Would we know as much about the world and how it works if Black folks were the dominant culture? I don't see many brothas stickin' their faces in stuff just to see what would happen. Ever see a brotha wearing a deep-sea diving suit? Ever see a brotha take a picture in front of an active volcano? Have ever, ever, ever in your long-legged life seen a brotha stick his head in a lion's mouth? Would black folks ever have invented skiing on their own?

Hmm...

Most kids have that "I wonder what will happen if i do this" syndrome, but it wasn't kids who made the show "Jackass". Still, white boys are hilarious to me.

Oh, my sense of humor is warped like untreated wood on a homemade deck. You've been warned.

I guess I'll have to get a life now so that I'll have stuff to write about again. This slump has extended well beyond it's allotted time period.