MetroDad

Listography: A Life in Lists

I am an inherently lazy writer.

Given the choice between curling up with a good book or sitting down at my computer, I will almost always choose the former over the latter. 

I'm also not very good at managing my free time. I've studied the habits of brilliantly successful people to see if there were some techniques that I might find helpful. Did you know that Buckminster Fuller averaged just two hours of sleep a night for two years and claimed he was more energetic and alert as a result? Or that Honore de Balzac ate dried coffee grounds to stimulate his imagination?

Word is that Socrates even laid out his toga the night before and pre-pinned it in order to save time.

(OK, I made that last one up.)

The only thing that seems to work for me is making daily to-do lists. As you can probably tell, I've always been a big fan of lists. Not only do I always make mental lists in my head, I'm also always annoying friends to give me their lists. ("Who are the 5 hottest sitcom characters of all-time?" "Give me 5 names for your imaginary band." "If you could only eat 5 foods for the rest of your life, what would they be?")

Hmm...now I'm starting to realize why nobody wants to sit in a car with me for more than 3 hours.

Anyway, in lieu of any real writing, here are a few lists I compiled tonight:

The 5 Best Books I've Read In The Past 5 Weeks

1. Nick Hornby's "Juliet, Naked"
2. Lorrie Moore's "A Gate at the Stairs"
3. Stefanie Wilder-Taylor's "It's Not Me, It's You."
4. Colston Whitehead's "Sag Harbor"
5. Michael Lewis' "Home Game"
   

My 5 Favorite Nostalgic Childhood Foods

1. PB & J sandwiches
2. Nesquik
3. Chocolate eclairs
4. Powdered iced tea
5. TV dinners

The 5 Articles Of Clothing I'd Remove From Existence

1. Crocs, Uggs & Birkenstocks
2. Golf Visors
3. Jean shorts (aka "jorts")
4. Cardigan sweater vests
5. Replica NFL jerseys

The 5 Things I'd Take To A Desert Island

1. A Frette blanket
   
2. James Joyces' "Ulysses"
   
3. A case of Sriracha Hot Sauce
   
4. Q-Tips
   
5. The complete works of The Rolling Stones

5 Things That Always Bring Tears To My Eyes

1. Parents outliving their children
2. Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah"
3. The last scene in "Rudy"
4. Seeing awkward kids being shunned by their peers
5. The tears of a loved one

5 Things That Always Bring A Smile To My Face

1. My daughter
2. Jeans and sweater weather
3. The NY Post
4. Reading books by the fireplace
5. Five Guys hamburgers

5 Things That Always Make Me Laugh

1. Jimmy Fallon's "The Housewives of Late Night"
2. People who wear pajamas outside the house
3. Leashes on cats
4. Fat people trying to get into rowboats
5. People walking into glass doors.

5 Best Quotes I Have Recently Read

1. "Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards." - Soren Kierkegaard
2. "It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men." - Frederick Douglas
3. "If you care about what others think of you, then you will always be their slave." - James Frey
4. "Tina is my baby girl. She’s my sister from another mother of a different color. I’d do 25 to life for her. She is down like four flat tires."" - Tracy Morgan
5. "Age is a very high price to pay for maturity." - Tom Stoppard

That last quote is certainly resonating with me these days. Why? Because in about one week, I will be turning 41. Holy crap! FORTY. ONE. I certainly don't feel 41. What is 41 supposed to feel like anyway? Honestly, I'm not quite sure anymore.

Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday that I was 16 years old and my biggest worry was where I should sit in the cafeteria or which pair of acid-washed Girbauds I should wear that day.

Ha!

Those were the good old days.

Golden Handcuffs

Sometimes I think being an overly self-aware insomniac book nerd is more trouble than it's worth.

While reading in the wee hours of the morning, I recently came across passages in two books that made me pause and reflect on the path my life has taken.

Don't get me wrong. I like to introspectively examine my life as much as the next person. At the same time, I believe that too much introspection can frequently become a masturbatory exercise in self-absorption.

To tell you the truth, I often think it'd be better if I slept more and read less. 

Anyway, here are the two passages.

The first is from James Frey's "My Friend Leonard."

"Gauguin was a stockbroker in Paris, married, had five kids. One day he came home and told his wife he was leaving, that he was through supporting the family, that he had had enough. Just like that he fucking took off. He said he had always felt he was a painter, so he moved to a rat-infested shithole and started painting. His wife begged him to return, his bosses told him he was insane, he didn't care, he was following his heart. He left Paris, moved to Rouen, went from Rouen to Arles, from Arles to Tahiti. He was searching for peace, contentment, trying to fill that fucking hole he felt inside, and he believed he could fill it. He died in Tahiti, blind and crazy from syphilis, but he did it. He filled his fucking hole, made beautiful work, made beautiful, beautiful work."

The second is from Nick Hornby's "Juliet, Naked."

"I have a thing for Dickens. I'm reading his letters at the moment. There are 12 volumes of them, and each one is several hundred pages long. If he'd only written letters, he'd have had a pretty productive life, but he didn't only write letters. There are four volumes of his journalism. He edited a couple of magazines. He squeezed in an unconventional love life, and a few rewarding friendships. Am I forgetting anything? Oh, yeah: a dozen of the greatest novels in the English language. He's pretty much the one guy whose life you could look at and think, man, he didn't mess around.

But there aren't many people like old Charles. Most humans don't get to do work that's going to last. They sell shower curtain rings, like the John Candy character in that movie. (I mean the rings might last. But they're probably not what people talk about after you've gone.) So it's not about what you do. It can't be, can it? It has to be about how you are, how you love, how you treat yourself and those around you, and that's where I get eaten up."

Regarding the above, I know only four things. All are related to one another (the first two are probably inversely related, the second two perhaps a little less so.)

(1) My daughter means everything in the universe to me.

(2) Quite honestly, there are moments when the thought enters my mind that caring for her has removed options in my life that would possibly otherwise make my life more personally fulfilling.

(3) I have a job that pays well, provides little intellectual or emotional challenge, and does not require much effort. However, this job not only ensures for my daughter's well-being but also allows me to spend an inordinate amount of my free time with her (which is partly what attracted me to it in the first place.)

(4) I have never defined myself by what I do.

Before we go any further, let me just say that I am acutely aware that even having these thoughts is a luxury of which I am not unappreciative. This blog has always been a place where I sort out my thoughts in written form.

Shit, if my health insurance covered therapy, this site probably wouldn't even exist.

All I'm saying is that, regardless of one's station in life, I think it's healthy to sometimes visualize or fantasize about the life that you want to live. Frequently, this forces you to make extremely tough decisions that seem painful but may ultimately make you much happier.

On the other hand, this is also probably the kind of thinking that made John Travolta turn down the lead role in "Chicago" THREE times so he could focus on his real passion project..."Battlefield Earth."

Look, I'm not going anywhere or enacting any serious life changes anytime soon. At the same time, I sometimes make mental lists of alternate lifestyles I fantasize about living if I didn't have a child. 

Here's the current short list:

• Living in a small studio apartment in Paris with a girlfriend and spending all our free time reading and writing together in a dingy cafe in the Latin Quarter, where we would both wait tables just enough to pay the rent.

• Apprenticing with a top sushi master in Japan and then opening my own restaurant in the East Village that would only seat 6 people at any given time.

• Moving to Colorado, being a ski bum in the winter and a fly-fishing bum in the summer.

• Working as a foreign war correspondent alongside Christiane Amanpour.

When I shared these thoughts with a buddy of mine, he told me I was having a mid-life crisis and that I should just shut up and buy a Porsche.

This led to a very in-depth conversation that ultimately provided great insight and incredible perspective on my future professional life and emotional well-being. I couldn't believe that after 40 years on this planet that have involved much soul searching and professional therapy, I had finally figured out in this one conversation what I would truly enjoy doing with the rest of my life if I didn't have a child.

I'd be Batman.

Just kidding.

Kind of.

In all seriousness, do any other parents out there fantasize about how your life would be different without kids or a spouse? If you're single or childless, are you living your life how you'd imagined? Why or why not?

An inquiring insomniac wants to know.

The Peanut Turns Five!

Dear Peanut,

Happy 5th birthday!

Although you're completely ecstatic about this day, I think my own excitement might actually trump your own. Why? Mainly because I no longer have to keep hearing, "Daddy, daddy, daddy! How many more days until I turn five?"

Don't get me wrong, kiddo. It was cute for awhile but after 5,000 times in one month, I was starting to think about canceling Christmas (FYI, it's in about 80 days.)

Five is an amazingly fun age, Peanut. You've really turned into a person now and it simultaneously enthralls and scares the crap out of me. On the one hand, you still love cuddling on the couch with me and reading books together. On the other hand, you don't always want to hold my hand in public anymore because I might be cramping your style. That kills me!

Here are just a few things I'll want to remember about you at this age:

• You're a ridiculously funny kid. Last year was all poop jokes and fart noises. Now, you do impersonations. You invent hilarious new dances. Your sense of sarcasm grows daily. And you love playing pranks on me (hiding my cellphone in the fridge was a good one!) You also have a uniquely funny way of playing make-believe. While other girls pretend they're princesses, you like to pretend you're a pizza delivery man or a UPS truck driver. You're such a city kid.

• I never cease to be amazed at how you can spread joy to so many people solely by your warm and affectionate nature. You're always there with a quick hug or a kiss to cheer someone up. And when you truly love someone, you're not afraid to say it or show it. Adults could learn a lot from a kid like you.

• You're as stubborn as I am and we have our fair share of epic battles. We never yell or scream at each other. It's more like Jedi warfare. Last week, we left the playground because it was raining. You were so pissed, you gave me the silent treatment and shot Korean Death Stares (KDS) at my back while walking twenty feet behind me in the grocery store. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and tried to give you a hug but you stuck up your hand and said, "Not right now, Daddy. I need my privacy." What the hell? Sometimes I think you're 5 going on 40. I love it.

• You love being a helper. Whenever I cook, you're always next to me as my sous chef or busy setting the table. You love working with Aunt Di in the garden or helping Uncle Paul wash his cars. You even love cleaning the apartment. The funny thing is that you draw the line at bathrooms and whenever you see me scrub a toilet, you think it's the funniest thing you've ever seen. "Haha, Daddy. That's where the poop goes!" (Ok, so you're not completely over the poop jokes.)

• You're enrolled in Spanish and Korean classes and are slowly becoming trilingual. Whenever you hear someone speak Spanish, you like to bust out in song. You know at least 20 different Spanish songs and waiters all over town now laugh when you enter the restaurant singing "Felize Navidad" ...again.

• You're at that age where your tiny brain can memorize anything almost instantly. You love "reading" entire books to me from memory. Alternatively I love teaching you funny lyrics. Last month, I made you call your grandmother and sing, "I said a hip hop the hippie the hippie to the hip hip hop, a you don't stop the rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat." I'm still laughing over that one.

• I love having conversations with you. It's one of my favorite things to do in the whole world. Sometimes we'll just sit on the couch and talk about things that are on your mind. Sometimes you'll ask me questions about the moon and the stars. Other times you'll talk to me about your grandfather's death or your love of fried chicken. I know it sounds silly because you're only five but I hope that we'll always be able to talk openly with one another like this.

There are so many things that I love about you at this age, I couldn't even begin to put them all down on paper. In fact, I still can't believe that you're 5 today. It's strange. Sometimes it feels like you were just born yesterday. On the other hand, it's hard to remember a time in my life when you weren't in it. 

There are just a few things I want to tell you about how I feel about you, Peanut.

I'm not one of those parents who thinks that his child is more special than any other one.

I'm not one of those parents who wants to be best friends with his child.

I'm not one of those parents who tries to be the cool dad.

That being said, I'm so incredibly proud of the little girl you've become. I feel closer to you than with any other human being alive. I love spending all my time with you. And I'm glad you enjoy having fun with your goofy weird dad.

Have a great birthday, Peanut. I love you with all my heart.

Love,
Daddy

P.S. One more thing you enjoy at this age is sticking your finger up every statue's butt. We've practically been banned from the Metropolitan Museum of Art and are now forced to hang out with lawn statues. I have to admit though, it's still pretty funny!