Yeah, I know you've heard this complaint before. But still, it's irking me today. Particularly today, since this is the first three-day weekend that's happened since Chepa's boyfriend moved from Indiana to Chepa's house. Now I'm a reasonable guy. For the Yiddish among you, I'm probably a reasonable goy. Whatever. "In your face, dad!" as Madeleina's phone message says. But this is Labor Day weekend. I have a cover story due on Friday, and then I have several guests coming in for jungle medicines on the same Friday-next-who will need my attention for several days. And I will give it to them. That's my work. Just as, when Madeleina told me about someone she knows who's losing feeling in their fingers--and she's an adult musician--I told Madeleina I'd work with the woman with the best medicines I know. No charge. Ever.
Saturday, September 01, 2012
So I've got to get some work done but no one is available to talk with me until Tuesday except for the activists, who, like me, don't make enough money to go away on these fabulous weekends. But activists can only take a story so far. You have to get the other side, as that's the side that people trust--even if sometimes they're not trustworthy. That's where the story is.
Which leaves me with mowing lawn, done, cleaning house, done, buying food for my upcoming guests, mostly done and doing laundry, done. So what am I supposed to do? I think I'm supposed to be with my family this weekend. I've got these two great mid-20's boys, one married, and a grandchild. Then I've got Madeleina and then I've got Sierra and Alexa, Chepa's two youngsters with her boyfriend but who spent the first couple of years partly at my house almost daily, and still have a tough time correcting themselves--though I've always corrected them--from calling me "daddy".
Now no offense to Chepa's boyfriend. He's probably a great guy. Probably better than I ever was at a million things. And I'm being serious. Hell, she dyed his hair pink and he seems to love it, where I would have probably screamed: "My freaking hair is PINK!!!! Fix it!!!" Which may not be the best thing a boyfriend/husband can say to the woman who was trying to save you from thinning grey.
But still, this is a holiday weekend and normally I would be serving a barbeque to 30-40 family and friends. I'm not. He is. I'm sitting at home--after working hard--and thinking about making some shrimp scampi and forgetting about the rest of it. Which means I am sort of feeling sorry for myself. And wondering where the fuck my kids are and why they are there instead of here?
I'm probably to blame. Not sure how, but I am probably to blame.
Still, I miss my kids. I miss the party. I miss the volleyball game and the soccer and the darts and the pool and foosball and whatever else goes into a 16 hour party on a three-day weekend. I miss cooking all that food. I miss being part of it.
That said, Madeleina had her first day on the field as a band member last night. She got off really late so Chepa picked her up. She slept most of the day but I caught her at 5 PM and she said it was the scariest but best thing she ever did. I was glad. Because yesterday I had to pick her up from school at 11:11 because she was puking so much. Seriously angry butterflies in her belly. I let her sleep for three hours, then told her to get back to school. I think the rule is that if you're not in school at end of day you can't be in the band that night. And I was not going to let her miss her chance. So I got her back for last period, and it worked. She marched, she played, she said she wasn't perfect but that she was good and it can only get better. Good for her.
Way to play through your fear, Madeleina. That's how winners are born.