I’ve started and stopped multiple posts. I’m blaming it on the grey – both in the sky and on the sidewalks, in slush form. I chide myself for being weak enough to let the weather affect me but there’s no getting around it. The grey out there sucks the inspiration and the motivation and the good cheer from in here. Perhaps I would be happier spending my winters in California.Here’s the beginning of a post that I will probably never finish because writing about my father and the surprise dinner thrown in honor of his 21 year political career this past weekend is too large of an undertaking. If you knew my father, you would understand that the English language (and my rather mediocre mastery of it) is too limited, too full of trite clichés, to capture the man I will always try to live up to:
I built my outfit around a red and white pin from his first election, back in 1985. It took me a half an hour to find, eventually located in the nether regions of my “junk box,” which has accompanied me from home to college to both of my Manhattan apartments, becoming more and more bloated along the way. It was buried underneath some of the silver rings I was so fond of in eighth grade and mountains of Dave Matthews Band tickets, from back when going to one of their concerts was considered a life-altering event. I was four years old in 1985, and I wore the pin as a badge of honor as my father and I canvassed the neighborhood, finding out what was important to the people in the town and asking for their support come Election Day. There were a few doors slammed in our faces – it was and still remains a die-hard Republican town – but mostly it was fun. Even if I did spend the majority of the time hiding behind my father’s leg overcome by situational shyness.
I can’t finish it. I’ve tried, but I get distracted by things like my boss’ voice or an email or my steaming caramel macchiato or ooh, look! Keys! Shiny!
I just can’t stay focused.
I’m opening the floor to topic suggestions or personal questions. People do that, right? The “email me a question and I will answer it” thing. It’s like a meme, only more interesting. Tailored. So, email me a question and I will answer it in a future post. Just please don’t ask “why are you so retarded that you can’t even finish a tribute to your father, whom you adore above all others?” because then I will curl up under my desk and cry.
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