Car, House, Kids, the lot.

Well here I am, still here.

In the last 6 months, longer now I suppose, I’ve moved into a house, days away from being a father, a wedding scheduled for next fall, and bought a 50 year old car. I guess I’m the middle-class, white man’s American dream.

Vomit.

Well, when I put it that way, sure. But all these things on their own maintain their individual merits. While I apply most of my faculties toward the suffering of others, and how to fix it, at least in my mind anyway, I need to respect that my life is good, and good things are happening all the time. I need to remind myself I’m not the same person I was when all this started. Hell, 6 years ago now.

Six years ago when I began this website, I was living at my dad’s. On couches, in basements, on floors and in my car. I would spend a few months here, a few weeks there, I finally got an apartment after finding a steady gig. I met someone, I moved in, officially. To think, someone wanted me.

We did so for the better part of two years. We moved east toward the coast into a lovely home with a lovely garage, a lovely basement, a lovely yard and a lovely bunch of cats (we already had those) and a lovely bunch of things we moved into the lovely kitchen and living room and dining room and bedrooms and basement and bathrooms. Everything is lovely filled with shit now.

I think I was always poised for domestic life. I always did enjoy landscaping for others when I visited. Mowing the lawn, raking, trimming bushes, trees, keeping back the wildlife that ensued and encroached upon properties. Now, I have my own to worry about, which is an entirely different beast. That dead tree hanging over the power lines? No one else is going to address it if i don’t. That garden bed? It’s going to remain a dirt pile until I decide to get creative.

I’m just a few weeks, hell, a matter of days really, from being an entirely different person I think. I’m always told fatherhood changes you as a person. Her and I maintain while this is true, it certainly won’t define us. While we know so many who are just waiting for something to do (parenthood) this isn’t us. We have endeavors, goals, lives to live. While parenthood does require quite a bit of our attention, it doesn’t mean the rest has to be put on hold. In fact, it will beckon more reason to continue these things. It often baffles me the amount of people who give up, or simply forget about their intentions post-baby. It’s astounding, really. But here I am, determined to publish a book before they arrive, trying to join/start a band of any sort, write, go out, enjoy ourselves.

There’s a dangerous and silly feeling in this country, that parenthood is the end of one life, and the beginning of another. You are no longer the sole focus. While this may be true in the literal aspect, it’s not in others. Parenthood in its very nature is an egotistical endeavor. We feel as humans that we’re so full of ourselves and believe in our individual character so much that we feel the need to create offspring. The idea that we can do quite well as parents, or even better than our parents did. In fact, most, without knowing, do so thinking that it will complete them, fix their relationship somehow. Even worse, some do it to subconsciously project their ideals onto their kids. They name them their own name, call them “junior” force their own interests and tastes onto this new being they’ve created.

They harm them irreparably because they themselves could not be bothered to look within, and repair their own problems with their own parents, but instead decide having children of their own who they will mold their way will fix the issue. This is 100% flawed thinking. This is quite extensive in its research to be proven to be without a doubt the leading cause of assholes in the world, but I digress.

Oh, the car? A 1972 Ford Maverick. 2-door, with a 302 under the hood. I don’t want to spoil this by focusing on it at all, but it’s been my form of escape and my muse for the last two months. I’ve torn a great deal of it apart, and I hope through determination, alcohol, and sheer will, that I’ll get it back in working order by spring. It was running (albeit hardly) when I arrived with it back in early September, and hope it will run at least better than it was when it’s all puzzled back together come April.

Cheers to all that’s happening, and all that.