Disclaimer: I wrote the below post last night after seeing (500) Days of Summer, an adorable movie about not love. Perhaps I should have just written about my lust for Joseph Gordon-Levitt who now occupies the #1 spot on my Free Pass Five right above James Franco. Who knew I had a thing for squinty eyed boy/men (but good god yum, right)?
Yes, I probably should have just stuck with that on a Friday, liking the boy from 3rd Rock from the Sun. So if you want your Friday light, your adventure ends here. However, if you'd like your Friday complex, a little bit woody with an undertone of WTF, go down the stairs and turn the page to below.
Sometimes I think about 1976 when I was 4 and the world was the tinged yellow of old photographs. I think about the space between my mother's legs as she stood talking to a friend, Swanson's tv dinners, how a few peas and maybe one miniature cubed carrot always ended up in the burnt edge of the square of sweet apple pie. I think about the hot cigarette smell of my mom's little red Datsun, linoleum, Woolworth's and how one very bad day after a corner piece of cake at a birthday party I threw up there: In my mother's car. On the linoleum floor of somebody's kitchen. In the denim department at Woolworth's.
I think about how somewhere relatively nearby Bryan was probably eating a Salisbury steak. Throwing tanbark, wearing Toughskins, his bowl cut washed with Herbal Essences, the green kind in the Mother Nature bottle bubbling, the love of my life right there yellow same as me all along.
But this is not a thought of myself. After all, what's done is done and we are here, the image of us now digital. No, this is a thought of Zoey, the color of her childhood all around so that we cannot see quite what it looks like. Blue crystal clear and crisp? Will she remember milk in cartons, butter in sticks, the way we carried our bags to the grocery, I used to be a plastic bottle, her shampoo pearly white opaque?
I think if maybe somewhere there is a boy, a girl maybe, who knows? But for the sake of argument: a boy. Maybe he is also 3, maybe he is 1. God forbid he is somewhere right this very minute studying for his final exam in Keynesian Microeconomics of First World Market Failure, a post-graduate class for which he is woefully behind--it's been known to happen, the color of childhoods not corresponding. I think if maybe there is such a thing as The One, The Two, a love that merits capitalization, I don't know. Maybe it's because I have just come home from seeing a movie about love, maybe it's because I'm a sap. Maybe it's because who cares, a matter of minutes, rose colored glasses when the appliances were burnt avocado all along.
But I think of this boy, how one day Zoey might pinch the skin on the back of his hand in bed at night as she now does mine, how he might notice that her eyelashes really do look like starfish from that close up, how one day maybe he will nickname the two dimples above her bum, This and That. I think of this boy, this one year old now, somebody else's baby, maybe three and asleep sweaty head snub nose, and I want to tell him how very lucky he is to love my daughter, to have her love him, to have found each other after years of swinging on monkey bars miles apart in a lifetime that surely could not have existed in quite the same colors as before. Now, whenever it happens, wherever, with whomever. This boy. This three year old, maybe six, where is he? Because I want to tell him, this son-in-law whom I will undoubtedly love, the father of my grandbabies, the skin on the back of his hand now loose. Dear boy, know this: if you ever so much as slowly pull your fingers away from my daughter, if you break her heart or hurt her in any way, so help me God I will kill you black and white easy, the colors do not matter but oh how she does. How hard it will be when my daughter's heart belongs to another.
And just because I don't want to start the weekend sounding like a lunatic, here is this: long exposure photographs of insects flying around a street light stitched together into an amazing video. In my mind this has something to do with my post.