Lucky 13

Red & Blue, originally uploaded by BodhiDave.

A baker's dozen of new pics have been added to my photo page, click the one above to see them all!

Me and Bonus had a good morning today, he's getting better and better all the time with the non-crying and the being cutesy.

- David

He Wears A Smile, Everybody Run

At the time of this writing (which I realize now is one of my favorite phrases) I have one and one-half hours to go before my weekend starts. Getting off at 2:30pm has the advantage of giving me what feels like a whole extra day off as long as I stay active after work.

Jonas is with his grandma, Kasey works at four, and besides bringing home Taco Bell with me I have no pending engagements. My plan is to nap at four, get some riding in, maybe do some cleanin' whilst unencumbered by the Little One, and then go pick up said adorable encumbrance early in the evening.

Even though we've only spent two of them together so far, Kasey is already well aware of my habit of having twenty Halloween costume ideas shifting about at any given moment of the year. Sadly I also have the habit of procrastinating the actual costume procurement and end up dressed as nothing but a lazy Caucasian come the 31^st.

Hopefully this year is different, and the current reigning costume idea is Twin Peaks' BOB. Why? Because Bob is a scary motherfucker. Best of all, he was a complete accident that ended up being the creepiest character I think David Lynch has ever put out.

I just found a bunch of stills on Flickr of him and character Laura Palmer from Fire Walk With Me, I'm literally getting chills:





The full-sized images are doing that annoying spaceball.jpg thing, but click here if you want to see them.

If you haven't watched Twin Peaks or Fire Walk With Me you should definitely do so. Twin Peaks is quirky and adorable in addition to all of the other traits you could ascribe to a David Lynch project, while Fire Walk With Me (which are the events leading up to Twin Peaks) is straight up dark and disturbing. Sheryl Lee does an amazing job as Laura Palmer, somehow pulling off the homecoming queen and a deeply troubled girl hitting bottom perfectly, usually in the same episode. And look at those scary faces!

So I need tos start hitting up the local thrift stores. I need a jean jacket and possibly some cowboy boots, as well as a dark button up shirt I can cut the sleeves off of. Maybe I can find some jeans too that I can get nice and dirty. Cuz Bob feels dirty, like he's homeless. Then I'll get either a long grey hair wig or do that spray in stuff to my own. Do they have Halloween five o'clock shadow? In my mind the scruff is very important.

Shit, now I have to go find these on DVD.

- David

24Seven Cities Interview

A few weeks back a nice man named BC Wilson sat down with me for a couple hours and let me blab on and on about cycle commuting and how I got into it, etc.

He's just posted the resultant article on 24SevenCities.com, which you can checkout here if you're so inclined. He also used a couple pictures I took, which was a nice surprise.

I think my favorite part is where he calls my facial hair "unconvincing" and when I don't show up for the ride of my own commute. Those two things together describe me so well it's blowing my mind.

- David

The Day You Were Born

Your mother and I had went to bed super late that night, even though I had to work the next morning.  I worked 6am to 2:30pm then as a contractor for the government doing tech support.  Your mom was on a three month maternity leave stretch from Starbucks.  We had a low bed from IKEA that came with a skinny "occasional table" of the same natural-colored wood which went over the bed with wheels at the bottom.  We always put her laptop on that table, along with tossed clothing, and watched DVDs or listened to a CD my a dad had given us which helped a person relax with rain sounds and scientifically placed bell noises.  In those days it was always movies though.  At the time of this writing you're still very little and we don't' want you to wake up because of movie explosions or someone suddenly bursting into song.  On another level I think we're worried about violence, profanity, and things of that nature somehow planting dark seeds in your subconscious while you sleep.

Kasey had been having pains all night, and I think randomly for the past couple of days as well.  The kind that make expectant fathers nervous.  Mostly in her back, rhythmic throbbing pains that made me think of constriction and the process of pushing a relatively large being through a number of small spaces.  I believe we were watching Knocked Up, a movie neither of us expected to be any good but found ourselves enjoying immensely.  I think your mother watched it thirty times before you were born.  Depending on how old you are now, reading this, you know how your mom and I are about movies.

I dozed here and there but either your mom directly or her agonizing indirectly woke me up.  It was about 3:30am and her contractions (a scary word to finally use after ten months) were at the solid two-minutes-apart mark her doctors had told us about, and they had been that way for an hour or more.  So we got up.  I don't think either of us were tired.  I remember going through a checklist in my head of things to do and to bring.  I was calm, but it was the calm that comes from knowing some bad shit could go down very soon.  It reminds me of driving in horrendous snowy weather in Idaho.

We got out to the car with a couple of bags we had packed beforehand and as I went to slide in behind the wheel I realized I had forgotten your car seat!  We wouldn't have been able to leave the hospital without it.  I rushed back in, maybe grabbed one or two second-thought items, and told the dogs to be good and that we'd be back soon with another family member.  The car we were using was your grandpa Kenny's; a grey Pontiac GrandAm.  I didn't own a motor vehicle and your mom's iconic white Eagle Talon was with your grandpa, needing a few repairs that neither party had the time, money, or motivation to fix.  At the time of this writing (two and half months later, about. You're getting so big every day.) it sits there still.

The hospital we were going to was out in Suffolk, and the first few times we went there with your grandma I swear it was in another state.  Every few minutes your mom was raking the felt ceiling of the car and gripping the door handle in pain, and coupled with one of the few undeniable reasons to speed I was driving fast.  Not crazy fast, but probably about fifteen miles an hour over the speed limit.  As it was so early there were few cars and there was no problem, but it made your mom nervous so I reigned it in to an even ten miles per hour over the posted limit.  It was a humid early morning, and the orange street lights spaced along the highways had a soft glow around them.  It was warm, but not uncomfortably so.  We had the radio on and I tried to note what songs were playing but it escapes me now.  I think I made a joke about Smashing Pumpkins (your mom's first love) playing, but I can't be sure.  I was thankful for the hour you started to arrive, as getting caught in traffic was the biggest concern of mine in the months leading up to your birth.

We reached the hospital and parked near the entrance we had used before and headed for the door.  A waddling Kasey, having to stop every few minutes, and me with multiple bags and a growing urge to get some drugs into her as soon as possible.  The first door we tried was locked.  "Jesus Christ," I thought. "Who locks doors to a hospital!"  If there had been a wheelchair or even a golf cart in sight I would have stolen it instantly.  Your mother declined my offer to bring the car back around and find an entrance that was actually open, and we started to walk towards the front of the hospital.  Main entrance: locked.  I was getting upset at this point.  We had to walk around to the ER entrance that had some of the red letters in EMERGENCY either burnt out or dimmed.

After three months of trying to get your mom in a wheelchair I finally got the honor and the security guard beeped us through a door at the far side of the waiting room into the main hospital area.  The waiting room was surprisingly full of frail old people and others with coughs or bandages.  Everyone looked tired, but I was energized and smiling.  Walking through the huge empty lobby of the hospital reminded both your soon-to-be-parents of The Dawn of the Dead.  The thick rubber wheels of the wheelchair made pleasant subtle noises on the clean, shiny floor reflecting the dimmed lights from he ceiling.  Past the darkened gift shop, the locked up pharmacy, silent offices and glowing ATMs we got to the elevators at the far end of the hospital and entered the elevators to the third floor.

Another hospital patron was leaving the maternity ward and held the door for us, bags draped over my shoulder and settled in your mom's lap.  We checked in and were quickly taken to a room that besides the hospital bed and other medical equipment could have been a motel room for business travelers.  Your mother changed into a gown and was checked on by nurses, asked questions, etc.  I called work and told them I wasn't coming in.  I thought about calling your grandpa Chuck but decided to wait until later when we knew something for sure.  The main nurse was being cautious about calling this full blown labor and admitting your mom, which annoyed myself and your grandma Sheila to no end, I'm sure.  And until Kasey was admitted they couldn't give her anything for the pain.

So there she lay, and we stood, your uncle, grandfather, grandmother and I, watching in helplessness as your mom tried her best to destroy her hospital bed.  Nurses came and went, your uncle got on his laptop, I tried to decide if it was easier to sit or stand by your mom's side while we waited.  This seemed to go on forever.

Finally they admitted her and was able to administer something through an IV that would take the edge off those disabling contractions.  Two nurses came in and needed to take some blood, and Kasey struggled through what seemed like the heaviest sleepiness ever to sign some forms.  I watched them take a few vials of blood and felt very faint a few minutes later.  I don't know if it was the excitement, standing with locked knees for so long, or watching them take the blood but I had to splash my face and sit down for a few minutes.  I was very close to passing out and laid my head next to your mother's now prone body for a while.  The drugs were quick, and while she still felt the contractions she didn't really pay them any mind.  I think we were all very relieved; watching the ones you love in pain is never easy to do.  Things were quiet then, for a while.

About two hours later a female doctor with short black hair came in and checked on your mom, and decided it was time to get things moving.  Your water was broken quickly with what appeared to be a very long plastic chopstick (there wasn't as much volume as the movies make you think) and as the doctor went through some more preparation someone asked about the epidural.

From the very beginning your mother was pro-epidural, all the way.  There was never any question.  Imagine the look on your mother's face when the doctor replied that she thought we didn't want an epidural, and it was too late for one anyway.  Apparently during a shift change something got lost because we had explicitly told one of the first rounds of nurses that we definitely DID want an epidural when it was time.  There's probably signed paperwork in the hospital records attesting to that fact.  But the time for that had passed, and now the doctor was telling us we'd have to do it without any drugs of any kind.  Your mother turned her head away from the doctor towards me and started to cry instantly and silently.  It was horrible.  I will never forget that moment for as long as I live.

Everyone left the room save myself, the doctor, a woman shadowing her as part of her schooling, and a nurse who wheeled in a cart covered with a towel which contained various medical implements.  In the corner of the room a baby incubator stood, and on the blanket draped over it lay a tiny hat in the eternal pink and blue lines of hospital baby colors, waiting for you.

For a long time your mother was sure she wouldn't be able to go through with it, without the epidural.  I tried my best to give my support, as did the medical student and the black haired doctor while the contractions rolled through your mom like waves through the underside of a pier.  Finally, with me at her left, the student at her right, and the doctor at her feet, she began to push you into this world.

The doctor guided your mom through her crash course in going through labor, with the rest of us giving words of support and encouragement.  She'll probably cringe at this, but your mom's legs were too short for the foot rests built into the bed so the medical student and I held them throughout the entire process.  A contraction would come, we three would excitedly urge your mother to push, she'd curl up around her stomach and with reddening, glistening face would do what only mothers can.

She only screamed a few times, only kicked the doctor once (which she claims was an accident), and slowly but so quickly, you began to emerge.  I cried once briefly as I saw the top of your head, with tiny dark waves of hair, and placed my forehead against your mother's and whispered, "Honey I can see his head, he has hair!"  The time between your crowning and your actual birth seemed the longest, as does the last hour of work or school when the moment you've been waiting for is so close, but not yet there.  Your mother was amazing, and gave us long, powerful pushes beyond what the doctor was asking of her.  It may be cliche, but I have never been so proud of her.

Then all at once your head and your arm popped into this world, and the rest of you followed an instant later.  You began to cry immediately, no spanking required.  They cleaned out your mouth and suddenly the doctor was handing me a pair of shiny scissors to cut the umbilical chord.  I hadn't planned on doing this before, but found myself cutting the line between you and your mother like I had been waiting for it for months.  They brought you to the baby incubator and I followed, that crying face I know so well being the only thing I could bring into focus.  You were weighed, measured, etc; I can't recall it all exactly.  I returned to your mom briefly, crying a little, telling her about you.  You were so pretty, I couldn't believe how perfect you were.  They put your little hat on and wrapped you in a blanket, and I cradled you in my arms for the first time.  You had stopped crying and all that was visible was your gorgeous round face and huge dark eyes.  You weighed nothing.  You were so warm.

They gave us a little time with you, wrapped in a blanket and in your mother's arms, before the family came back in.  It was important to me that we have a moment, your mother and I, to experience you alone before anyone else; when we got the first ultrasound of you it was exactly the same.  She held you and I stood near, looking on.  She spoke to you in a high little voice, already full of adoration and something no one had ever heard there before.  Nobody had expected her to become a mom, but just from the sound of her voice as she talked to you for the first time I knew, I knew she loved you and would be the kind of parent that would die for her child.

Your grandma, grandpa, and uncle came back in, you were passed around.  We watched them with you, your exhausted mom from her bed and I from never more than a few feet away.  It was difficult to share you.  I would have preferred a whole day alone with just the three of us.  But we couldn't have deprived your grandparents of the opportunity to be there for the birth of their first grandchild.  I called my father and told him the good news.  The phone call was maybe two minutes long, I think knew I wanted to get back to you.  Pictures were taken, your grandpa even busted out the camcorder, and everyone took multiple turns melting over you.  They do still, and as I imagine, will for a long time coming.  Someone brought us Wendy's, I uploaded pictures to the Internet before we had even moved rooms to the one we'd be staying in for the next two days.  No one could stop smiling.

I can't remember sleeping much for those first few days, but I do remember the first chance I got I laid you next to me and cuddled until we both fell asleep; something the books say never to do with a new baby.  But they could go to hell.  You were mine, and I was doing what I wanted with my new son.  My son.  Crazy.

Wish We Were Three

It's that day again.

It seems like so much has happened since this time last year. I wonder if this is how it will be now, the distance between these sign posts seeming longer and longer. More than birthdays, New Years, holidays, and changing seasons the anniversary of my brother's death punctuates the year, like scissors cutting long string.

As the date approached I thought about finding the person who came upon the crash and attempted to help my brother. It probably wouldn't be hard, I found a news article with his name. I contacted the person who wrote the article but they were unable to find any contact info. Maybe I could look him up at work. I know he's a military man, but not what branch. I've wanted to ask him a couple of things for a long time.

When Jonas was born I was thinking of my brother before they had even taken him away to be cleaned. He will have an Uncle Seth that he'll never get to meet. There will be stories, but that's it. Sometimes when Jonas is sleeping his round face, peach fuzz head, and baby lips reminds of the first time Seth came home from the hospital, and a series of memories of him growing up follows close behind.

I'm having a hard time at work this morning. I'm on edge and people's questions are frustrating me. I feel like going home. Hopefully tonight I can get some time to drink and watch a movie, get a good cry in. I'm definitely thinking Darjeeling Limited, for obvious reasons. I'll call my dad, and try my brother Thadius. Just to talk, not even about our loss, but just to be close to them in some way.

I had a dream last night that Kasey told me Jonas was dead. It turned out his tongue was just too small for him to make much noise, but he was fine. It's only been a few months but already I can't imagine what I would do if something happened to my son. My father's pain has always been the worst thing about this for me, but now it has a whole new dimension. Now I don't know how he survived. I don't think I could.

Be safe on those roads. Cars are dangerous, people both inside and outside die on a daily basis because of them. Stop being impatient, stop using the driving seat as a dinner table, stop emulating The Fast the The Furious. Be responsible, 43,000 people a year will thank you.

- David

Jonas Noises

Just focus on the baby, cuz I sound retarded.

- David

Awesooooome

Okay, normally I ignore these things on Facebook or in stupid e-mail chains, but I just couldn't pass this one up. Have you ever though it would be fun to speak in nothing but song lyrics for an entire day? Well I have, all the time. And this is pretty close to that.

Post your own in the comments!

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "My Life According to (ARTIST NAME)"


Pick Your Artist: Tom mothafuckin' Waits

Are you a male or female? A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Describe yourself: Just Another Sucker on the Vine

How do you feel: Dead and Lovely

Describe where you currently live: Heartattack and Vine

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Big in Japan

Your favorite form of transportation: Train Song

Your best friend is: Dave the Butcher

Your favorite color is: Green Grass

What's the weather like? More Than Rain

Favorite time of day: 'Till the Money Runs Out

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: God's Away On Business

What is life to you: That Feel

Your relationships: Little Drop of Poison

Your fear: Knife Chase

What is the best advice you have to give? Hold On

If you could change your name, you would change it to: Black Market Baby

Thought for the Day: How's It Gonna End

How I would like to die: Goin' out West

My soul's present condition: Innocent When You Dream

My motto: Get Behind the Mule

!!!
BONUS! I like this so much I'm doing another artist
!!!


Pick Your Artist: Nine Inch Nails

Are you a male or female? Mr. Self Destruct

Describe yourself: Physical

How do you feel: The Persistance of Loss

Describe where you currently live: The Great Below

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: A Warm Place

Your favorite form of transportation: La Mer

Your best friend is: The Hand That Feeds

Your favorite color is: Sunspots

What's the weather like? Lights in the Sky

Favorite time of day: The Beginning of the End

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: Somewhat Damaged

What is life to you: Happiness in Slavery

Your relationships: Help Me I am In Hell (Kidding! Couldn't resist)

Your fear: Big Man With A Gun

What is the best advice you have to give? We're In This Together

If you could change your name, you would change it to: StarFuckers, Inc.

Thought for the Day: Every Day Is Exactly the Same

How I would like to die: Sanctified

My soul's present condition: Getting Smaller

My motto: Suck

!!!
And another...
!!!


Pick Your Artist: Rilo Kiley/Jenny Lewis

Are you a male or female? Bad Man's World

Describe yourself: The Good That Won't Come Out

How do you feel: Happy

Describe where you currently live: Spectactular Views

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Dreamworld

Your favorite form of transportation: Plane Crash in C

Your best friend is: My Slumbering Heart

Your favorite color is: Under the Blacklight

What's the weather like? The Charging Sky

Favorite time of day: Always

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: We'll Never Sleep

What is life to you: The Execution of All Things

Your relationships: With Arms Outstretched

Your fear: Accidntel Deth

What is the best advice you have to give? You Are What You Love

If you could change your name, you would change it to: August

Thought for the Day: Rise Up with Fists!!

How I would like to die: A Better Son-Daughter

My soul's present condition: It Just Is

My motto: Give A Little Love

- David