Posts Tagged ‘The little guy’

Fleet week, part II

October 12, 2008

Fleet week has ended in the city.  As much as I enjoyed the show today, I do have to say thank god.  It’s hard to have a child of almost four relax and nap in the afternoons after not sleeping well the night before when the Blue Angels are practicing over the city.

Rick loved his day at the fleet week celebration.  He jammed to the music, gave high fives to the soldiers, and even pretended to fire his “finger gun”.  Question: where did he learn that?  He has no toy guns in the house and I only let him watch age appropriate movies?  WTF?

Rick loved the stunt plane show.  He was jumping up and down laughing and pointing at the planes as they looped and whirled.  He really didn’t care too much for the blue angels though, which is honestly surprising.  Usually, at least I assumed, that every little boy wants to be the “top gun” sort of plane flyer.  Not my Rick though, he liked the stunt planes.

I bet he’s going to love roller coasters.  I think it will be great next summer to take him down to Santa Cruz to see the boardwalk.  I think he will still be too small for the big roller coaster but I bet he will like to see it.  I love the boardwalk.  I haven’t been to the boardwalk since I was in college in the mid-90s but the nice thing about it is that I know it hasn’t changed because it’s historical significance.

Anyway, it was a fun day with the military and Rick had fun.  And in the end, that’s all that really matters.  That, and I got some awesome photos for my photo album.

Arguing about culture, people and SF.

July 22, 2008

My car broke down. Saying that is an understatement. Came to a grinding halt in the middle of a crappy part of SF in the noon hour is more like it. Had it towed over to ye old repair shop and started to walk to the bus stop with Rick and Stan a few blocks away.

Stan and I got into a disagreement. A BIG ONE. Stan is a guy. He is strong. He is smart. He can handle himself. I am a girl. I am strong, though not as strong, but small. I can handle myself most of the time. Rick was with us. He’s three for Christ’s sake. He can handle his stuffed rabbit.

We are walking through not such a great neighborhood and I am a little antsy. Stan says, and I quote, “there is nothing to worry about. There are three of us.”

Hm. Interesting. The way I look at it is there are 2.5 of us and it doesn’t really matter if you are a guy, I am a girl walking with her child.

In other words, I am an easy target. Doesn’t help that I am carrying my dell in my diaper bag. It doesn’t matter if there are three of us. There is my child and myself. Easy targets. I have been in this city all my life. I know when it’s not a great time to be in certain areas. And sometimes, it doesn’t matter if it’s noon on a Tuesday, there are just some areas that you don’t want to be.

Now, here is the kicker: I tried to explain to him that it doesn’t matter that it’s noon on Tuesday. I am a girl. I have a kid with me. There is an imminent amount of danger that he can’t even to begin to rationalize because of one simple fact: HE IS MALE.

Recently, there was a disagreement in the media about the N word. I hate this word. I have never used this word and never will. Even when reading Tom Sawyer in high school I would skip it. I just refuse. Anyway, the argument is that white people should never use that word while Africa Americans can use it. Hey, that’s fine and I can understand why this is. It makes sense in reclaiming the word and history. However, I can’t say that I will ever come close to understanding the hatred because there is nothing compairable for me to be called.

But Stan decided to argue the point with me that I shouldn’t feel afraid because I am in a bad area of town, I am a girl and I am walking with a baby. I used the N-word controversy as an example. And he didn’t get it. But then again, I don’t expect him to. Because he’s male. He will never have to worry about the things that, as a woman, come into my life everyday. I have experienced and seen some really fucked up shit in my life as a woman. Things that wouldn’t even begin to cross a man’s mind in the middle of the day will enter mine because, unfortunetly in this society, they have to. So no, I don’t expect him to GET IT but I expect him to respect that he won’t get it because of these reasons.

I mean, ladies, am I wrong to worry about my child and myself?

And since he’s reading this because, let’s face it, you met some really rad people this week, I would hop that maybe seeing it in writing may affect your judgement and open your eyes a bit. 🙂

‘Til kingdom Come

July 13, 2008

Hold my head inside your hands
I need someone who understands
I need someone, someone who hears
For you I’ve waited all these years

Waking up is no fun.  Early in the morning, it’s just not thing that I like to do.  Actually, I don’t think anyone likes getting up in the morning.  However, about two years ago, I bought an alarm clock that would play a CD when I woke up.  I never used the CD player until recently (as in the last 6 months)

I created a CD that would help me get up.  It starts really slow and quiwt and works its way to loud ska music.  In fact, I know that if I hear any dropkick Murphy starting I have been in bed half an hour out of the CD and really, it’s time to get up.

Rick wakes up after me.  I am sure he takes longer because he’s only three, but I never t hought anything og the CD I played.  Until this afternoon that is.  This afternoon Rick was cranky.  Very cranky.  He kept pointing at my dresser and crying.  I grabbed his book off of it.  No, he didn’t want it.  I grabbed his juice box.  Nope, not interested.

Finally I grabbed the CD off the dresser.  Rick started clapping and pointed to the clock.  I put the CD in and Coldplay’s Kingdom Come started to play.  Rick cackled and reched for me.  When we settled on the bed, Rick started rocking in my lap to the music.  He was humming.  When the song ended he looked up and simply said, “mommy.”

For you I’d wait ’til kingdom come
Until my day, my day is done
And say you’ll come and set me free
Just say you’ll wait, you’ll wait for me