Leap Day. If ever an occasion warranted such infrequent occurence, this conjured up holiday does.
And it should be a holiday. It should be celebrated wildly for not only what it is, but what it can be. Leap Day should be a time when high school shadows ask out homecoming queens. Closet faith should open itself to a world of aquaintances in need. Couples poor only in wealth should choose to become parents despite it.
All these changes of direction should happen because once every four years is neither too long nor short a time to accomplish what should take place daily. People should leap.
How often does the next step go untaken? How many times does the path stop at the foot of fear, regret, reason or remorse? But there always must be that one way of overcoming such still steps--by leaping. And there should be a day set aside for it.
Today is as good a day as any.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Fatherhood
People sometimes say I will make a good father. Probably they are trying to be nice. What exactly, after all, is a good parent?
Is it that the child survives to adulthood? No parent holds that control. Is it that the child thinks his or her parent good? Children would dart into streets and soil themselves for years if left to their versions of good.
Is it that the child transitions into a functioning member of society? Is it that the child is loved? Does anyone actually know, or are flattering statements only another way of skirting cluelessness and avoiding worry?
Truth is, people tell me I am a pretty good guy, too. A pretty good son, worker, writer, thinker, teacher--I have heard them all. Yet I know better. I know more of myself than to believe these half-truths.
I am only anything worthwhile at all when I truly realize just how hopeless a son, a thinker, a teacher or a writer I am. Only then do I rely on a strength beyond my own.
So if these people who say I will be a good father are to be proven right, I would do well to remember as much.
Is it that the child survives to adulthood? No parent holds that control. Is it that the child thinks his or her parent good? Children would dart into streets and soil themselves for years if left to their versions of good.
Is it that the child transitions into a functioning member of society? Is it that the child is loved? Does anyone actually know, or are flattering statements only another way of skirting cluelessness and avoiding worry?
Truth is, people tell me I am a pretty good guy, too. A pretty good son, worker, writer, thinker, teacher--I have heard them all. Yet I know better. I know more of myself than to believe these half-truths.
I am only anything worthwhile at all when I truly realize just how hopeless a son, a thinker, a teacher or a writer I am. Only then do I rely on a strength beyond my own.
So if these people who say I will be a good father are to be proven right, I would do well to remember as much.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Rolling
A proper Pinewood Derby track costs $95 up to several thousand, but one can make due with $40 and a little elbow grease. A car costs $4, plus the time to make it roll. Enough cars to host a race comes in at $60. Then comes paint, woodworking tools, weights and the like.
But now, more than a dozen family members are pumped about a race only happening because we decided it should. Adults will race children, mothers against sons, grandfathers against unborn fetuses. Trash talking already sounds like a clanging symbol. One cousin claimed his car would be so fast it would catch fire. Another said his would change color. One car promised a rearview mirror to see the competition, another a metal chain to keep the racing close.
So, is it worth it? Somehow, yes. In perhaps the only family strange and close enough to make it happen, it is undoubtedly worth the hundred dollars and month of preparation. Amazing that such little things could play such a role in keeping a family together. Then again, what else would?
But now, more than a dozen family members are pumped about a race only happening because we decided it should. Adults will race children, mothers against sons, grandfathers against unborn fetuses. Trash talking already sounds like a clanging symbol. One cousin claimed his car would be so fast it would catch fire. Another said his would change color. One car promised a rearview mirror to see the competition, another a metal chain to keep the racing close.
So, is it worth it? Somehow, yes. In perhaps the only family strange and close enough to make it happen, it is undoubtedly worth the hundred dollars and month of preparation. Amazing that such little things could play such a role in keeping a family together. Then again, what else would?
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