The universe aligned and put G right on a Wednesday.
I’m sure Buddha or Jesus wasn’t thinking of my blog when they invented April. Or the #AtoZChallenge. No, it was just a cosmic coincidence. I could technically write about any letters, having satisfied the whole G thing with the Go Ask Daddy part.
But I won’t.
For new folk: Go Ask Daddy is a post I use to answer my girls’ questions. I’ve tried to document every question I’ve been asked since I became a dad way back in 1997. I’ve missed a few, and the document has changed technologies and decades since.
I have several entries stuck in a worn edition of 300 Writing Prompts that I will share during the #AtoZChallenge.
The one is in response to the prompt: It is the end of your career and you are up on stage being presented with a major award. What award is it, and what have you won it for? Global pandemics tend to shed a different light on such topics.
But I wrote this response long before the COVID took hold.
I think it’s good to reflect on such things. My day will someday come. The thought now is, what will I do between then and now? Plenty. And some of nothing. And a lot that can’t be classified as either.
I wonder how many people will go with COVID as their C word.
Or, coronavirus. It’s difficult for me to, even if I wanted to. Friday is my #GratitudeAndShit day, and pandemic viruses don’t make the cut. I am grateful, however, to have this new reality upon me. It’s not been easy, but there have been some pluses on small scales.
It’s exhausting to read post after post about how to work efficiently from home.
I haven’t found that. There are small gains. There’s stuff like birds on my bird feeder and tortilla chips in my pantry to serve enough distraction to get me off track. But I’m eating less fried food and takeout, more conscious that I’d better watch my intake.
Mine happened in middle school. It lasted on into high school, and, by great fortune, into adult life. My first exposure to The Temptations came with the Daryl Hall & John Oates album Live at the Apollo. I learned fast the history and prestige of playing that venue.
Hearing my favorite Rock N Soul duo mix it up with legends was priceless.
Temptations songs resonated with me at 12 (and 32, and 42) Just My Imagination was my theme song for those formative years. A girl made a mixtape for me with I Wish That It Would Rain on it and it took me a decade to understand what she was trying to say.
I’d hoped this quarantine era would at least give me more casual blog writing time. What it’s become is highly distracted work-from-home time, with work days that drone into the night. At least I know this because I change from day pajamas to night pajamas.
Just getting to this point is a victory, though.
The girls amazingly haven’t had any COVID questions, but there’s plenty in the vault from yesteryear. Hell, some of these questions have been around since the Spanish Flu epidemic. (Or, close to it.)
I’m grateful for the chance to write again, to have the time freedom to devote energy to blogging and this universe. I’d like to take that a step further, and get back to those posts I’ve missed so much. Posting all the great #GirlsRocks interviews I’ve had lately is one.
But I miss the Go Ask Daddy posts, too.
The girls ask fewer questions these days, but we have a ton in reserve. I learn a lot doing those posts. And the mindful Monday posts I hate to call Mindful Monday posts, also. There’s a lot going on in my noggin and I love hearing what you have to say about it, too.
The cool thing about being a dad, I was telling Camdyn while putting on my shoes, is that we can wear anything we want.
She gave me that look again, the one you’d see from someone on a practical jokes show. I just kept tying my shoes and didn’t even care they were Adidas soccer shoes with black dress socks. With a Hornets jersey tee and grey shorts with a pattern of fish bones.
I can too, she finally said, and pull it off even better.
So it’s in moments like this I get a bit more clarity why I am these girls’ papa. Clearly, it’s to force them to think on their feet in ways no ordinary dad could do. It’s definitely not to give clarity to life, although I spend an awful lot of time in that sad endeavor, too.
If it’s within a mile or so, I’m so hoofing it. Unless I’m pressed for time. Or it’s all highway with no sidewalks. Or it’s too cold. Or too hot. Also, only if I have one of my miles-walking pairs of shoes on like I wear to Target.
Last fall, Camdyn had a tournament in beautiful Gatlinburg, Tenn.
I love that place. The forecast was for snow and a low of zero. But it would get up near freezing during the day. Other parents moaned. I secretly wanted to see how Camdyn would play as a block of Camdyn ice.
I’m in a spot with not enough time to finish this, but also not so little time I can’t start.
And that’s sort of been the calling card in my life lately. Again, were this blog a goldfish in a bowl, it’d be floating belly-up. Interestingly, I feel better equipped to handle a hectic life than ever. And life is still keeping me away from this space.
I’ve kept up (mostly) every day with the gratitude journal, so there’s plenty of material. Hopefully, that’ll get finished tonight after my boys’ soccer training and Camdyn’s teams’, when that Monster Energy drink kicks in somewhere between here and the Lowe’s Y.
You can earn money on them. I’ve probably gathered $10 toward my stupendous PayPal balance by revealing my spending habits, taking quizzes about commercials that air during Live PD, and disclosing just how Hispanic I am.
Not overly, it turns out.
I mean, I rock the cuisine and will always retain my honey-roasted complexion. But these surveys ask if we speak Spanish in the home or watch Spanish-language programming. No and no. (Those words, luckily, are the same in English and Spanish.)