Dear Roger:Where Did The Time Go?

The title is linked,(hopefully), to a video of my baby girl and showing her and her monkey moments, set to her favorite song, "TIME" by the 100 Monkeys.
Today is the day my baby, the last of my kids, the wheel that turns us all, turns 8 years old. It shouldn't be such a big deal I guess, but to me it feels like the genuine end of her babyhood. She has always acted older than she is, but this year even more so. Like I mentioned the other day, her favorite band broke up as her favorite boy left to go be a daddy and an actor. She has tweeted him a few times and gotten no response, but instead of throwing a baby fit or getting snarky, she has been resolute in her support and understanding.
Her father finally bothered to call yesterday after over a week and a half without talking to the kids, and he spent all of five minutes talking to her to tell her that he wasn't going to be sending her anything right now because he couldn't afford it. She didn't even get upset over that,(shes actually used to that), so she politely chatted with him about nothing and then handed off the phone and went on about her business. He had asked her to friend him on FB and I was highly amused to hear her reiterate that she would think about it, because she knows he told me that he preferred to be Facebook friends with her to,"Save the hassle of calling." She doesn't want to make him ignoring her any easier than it already is I guess.
She has a busy day today; church in the morning and then she will be home for a little bit to hang out before we head out to her church for her Baptism. She has chosen to get Baptized on her birthday and then once that is over, she has her play rehearsal, and she reminded me that she made a commitment to the the play so she has to be there, birthday or not, so she will be attending. The kid wont stop going until nearly 8:00 tonight and then we will have some cake to celebrate my little miracle.
We are going to hang out at home tomorrow and continue the celebration most likely, she was actually born pretty late at night so I guess that works. We will watch,"Our" movie "Lilo and Stitch" because the new movies she wanted to watch are a bit too adult for her as of yet, eat cake, and just be lazy, though knowing her, she will be anything but.
Shes growing so damn fast. Changing every day and becoming a strong and beautiful child that is going places. She has plans for her future, goals and dreams and the drive to see the through. I hope that the wings she has continue to make her fly as high as possible because she deserves everything she hopes and dreams of.

Dear Roger: Rules For Being A Parent

I got up this morning at 7:30, it was one of those rare mornings when I got to actually sleep in because no one had to be anywhere, but my secondary alarm needed to pee and wanted his morning kibble, and I could tell by the sounds coming from the living room, my tertiary alarm was already up and would soon be coming in to ask if I was ever going to get my ass out of bed.
My tertiary alarm is usually my primary alarm nowadays, at least on weekends and days when no one has to get up early, its like Murphys Law, but that's just Sticky boy. I walked into the living room and sure enough he was on the couch, sitting with his ankles crossed behind his neck, watching some educational show on PBS. Hes so hyper-flexible he can not only cross his ankles behind his neck, he can put his toes under his chin. He and daughter often have contests to see who is the bendiest, and to outsiders its a bit off-putting at times. He was wearing just his boxers which had mysteriously acquired a hole in them since he started wearing them yesterday, and he was worrying the hole. "I got a hole in my chones!" was the first thing he told me this morning and I agreed with him and then went to make my coffee, not too excited or shocked. Hes a boy and he often manages to do damage to his clothes in some bizarre way. While I was in the kitchen he comes walking up to me, gives me a hug and a kiss and asks me to make him a "Butt crack sandwich".
Now, before you go getting too freaked out about that term, let me tell you, it came from his siblings and honestly, it kinda fits the disgusting combination of materials he loves on toast and has been eating since he was a wee child. Its toast, with katsup,(lots of it), mustard and mayonnaise and when we can afford it ham. He has started asking for ranch dressing on it as well lately but I drew the line there. When I was pregnant with my daughter I couldn't even be in the same room when it was being made, but now, I just go about it as if its the most normal thing in the world, most of the time he makes it himself, but he knew I had just thoroughly cleaned the kitchen and I think hew as worried I would get annoyed at him if he made a mess.
Sticky is special in many, many ways, not just because he has Downs Syndrome and it makes him operate a little different from the rest of us, he has all these odd habits and hobbies that just make me shake my head and wonder where the hell they came from? He has some mildly Autistic behaviors as well so I allow some of the oddness, knowing that to try and force it to stop would be counter to his nature, but there are times it just drives me up the wall. He has at least 100 pipe cleaners. It looks like a giant, technicolor birds nest that no one is allowed to touch. If you take a pipe cleaner and bend it into a cool shape for him, he gets pissed off, so no one touches the pipe cleaners. Music is another thing that has strict rules around him. No one sings "Reaper" by the 100 Monkeys in the house except for him, seriously, brawls have broken out bad enough that I have had to pull over the van when I had it, and separate children who were intent on serious bodily harm. He hates wearing clothes. The minute he hits the door when he gets home from school he is stripping off his clothes. He is skin to wind constantly. Its really annoying when people come over, but its how he likes to be, even when its cold.
We have all adjusted to his habits and behaviors over the years and we are all fiercely loyal and loving towards Sticky. He is my son and their brother. He has a wicked sense of humor that often leaves us all shocked at its complexity, and hes genuinely loving and devoted to all of us, even when we drive him crazy by stealing a pipe cleaner.
When Sticky was born with Downs, it was like getting blindsided by a Mack truck. We had no idea he had it because all the tests had come back normal. The ultrasound showed nothing, none of the blood work showed anything, but in the midst of the horrible delivery, as I was bleeding out and just before the seizure that changed my life, I saw his face and I knew.The last thing I remember saying was,"Oh my God, he has Downs." and seeing the nurses face that told me I was right. Waking up alone in my hospital room a day later with a Social Worker sitting beside my bed telling me about my,"Options" for my baby son who I hadn't even seen since that moment left me feeling like the world had imploded, but the only thing I had to tell her was that the only option I had for him was to come home with me. I gladly took the pamphlets she offered on being the parent of a,"Special Needs Child" and after she left I started unhooking myself from equipment so I could go find my son,(That hospital grew to not like me very much as I tended to do that), and after I caused a bit of a stir amongst the nurses, I was finally taken to see him in the NICU.
Tiny, sickly, but fierce and creating a stir because he had a full head of hair that stuck up all over the place and he was cute as a button, my baby boy looked like a transformer with all the equipment he was hooked up to. For 10 days we were there. It was touch and go for the first few and then he started gaining finally and winning and growing. My little ginger tiger has given me many reasons to worry over the years, but hes not something I regret and hes not something I have ever considered a burden. Hes my son. Hes different. All my kids are different. Hes very high functioning for a Downs kid and hes loved by more than a few people for his kindness, his humor, and his optimism.
When you find out you are going to be a parent, its terrifying. You worry about everything that could go wrong, and truthfully, there are many, and almost none of them are in your control. I did everything right when I was pregnant with Sticky. I didn't drink or smoke and I have never done drugs. I was healthy and active and I followed all the rules, and it all went to hell in the last few months. I developed Pregnancy Induced Hypotension and he had to be delivered early to save my life,but none of the tests had prepared us for him to have Downs or for me to end up with brain damage from the seizure that occurred during delivery.I think Im damn lucky to be alive. I think Im lucky my son is alive. I know my doc saved my life and my ability to have more kids, so im grateful to him. I dont understand how people could ever consider suing for having a child like Sticky, yet there is a family here in Portland that is doing just that, suing the hospital and the doctor because they had a child with Downs. They are suing for "Wrongful Life" and all I can think is what horrible people.I dont often judge people because I dont know the lives they lead and many people dont have it in them to cope with a challenge like parenting a kid like Sticky, but then I have to wonder, how would they cope if one of their,"Normal" kids ended up damaged through an accident? I have had friends that had a baby injured though an accident. The child got strangled on its car seat strap and ended up brain damaged and blind. They didn't toss it away, they kept it and did their best as parents, because that is what you do.
Im not religious. I lost my faith when I was 14 and im not going to go into why, but I believe that you have a duty and an obligation to those dependent on you to protect them and love them and do your best to care for them. Im not the best person in the world, I am atoning for many things, but I know that I did the right thing with Sticky, and I am proud to be his mother and I dont need 3.6 million to make me feel that way.

Dear Roger: Monkey Loving

My kid is a better person than me. I've probably said that before, but really, she is truly and honestly a better person. She sees only the good in people, giving them the benefit of the doubt, trusting that they are doing what is best and loving unconditionally, unless they have personally hurt her or someone she loves. After she got over the initial shock of the Monkey boys going their separate ways, she made sure to comfort ME! She seemed to figure out that I was a little bummed out as well, because, yeah, I have to admit it, I have a pretty big soft spot when it comes to those guys. They have been the sunshine in the darkness for us and I freaking hate change, so I guess I was a little mopey as well. I understood the reasoning, because, I gave up something that was just about my sole reason for existing,(I thought), when I realized my little boy needed me more than I needed my police officers badge, so I get it, but its still hard to see things change.
I took her out with me yesterday to get a few groceries and while we were out together, we finally did some talking without the boys breathing down out necks or making fun of us, so I asked her how she was doing? She told me,"Well, I'm still a little sad and I will miss him very much, but I understand why he left.People have lives to live and hes going to be a daddy, and good daddies want to be with their kids, and Jackson will be a good daddy, not like my daddy so he will want to be home, not out all the time and away and concerts are too noisy for babies.He just better quit smoking because that's not good for babies. Jerad will be back and he will take care of things, and im getting used to Ben G. hes big and a little scary and lots of weird, but weird is very good. I will still love Jackson always, and maybe someday I will see him again and I hope he wont forget me because I will never forget him."
It was hard to not tear up in the middle of the damn store. I was so proud of her that I did hug and kiss her and tell her that. Because I had been so worried about her not handling things at all. Its hard when your heroes do things you don't expect. I still think I was traumatized forever by seeing John Wayne die in the "Cowboys". I mean, the man had practically raised me because my father was in Viet Nam for 3 tours and then checked out when he got back, so other than you, when you weren't in Japan or Grandpa, the Duke was my father figure, so seeing him shot and killed (even in a movie), in front of me when I was her age, was horrific and I remember crying so hard that I threw up, but her? She cried, and even seeing a couple of the videos have brought a little grimace of sadness to her face today, but she is doing pretty good all in all. Her favorite boy tweeted out a pic of his babies bits last night, showing that he is having a son, and she was ecstatic! Whooping and hollering and then she stopped and looked pensive for a moment, she was doing the math, calculating how long she has to get done with her Masters degree and get rich before hes an adult.
More gray hairs.
She is getting Baptized this Sunday on her birthday and she has been inviting people,so far no one is coming which really stinks, but I'm going to be there with her monkey and that was really important to her. I told her father, but he had no comment other than to talk about something his nephew was doing. Im going to record it for her and that way she will have the memories of it. She hasn't said much about not getting any cards or anything yet for her birthday, shes just so different from my other kids. When it was Stubbys birthday week, he started in at the beginning and haunted the mailbox daily, and then got angry at me when nothing arrived until the last minute or late, her? its like she has bigger fish to fry, and really, I guess she does, shes rehearsing for her play and shes learning,"March of the Sugarplumb Faries" on the piano. The show is going on.

Dear Roger:Got 99 Problems And A Monkey Is One

Young rock stars are the perpetual teenagers of the entertainment world, they often do things that leave you wondering just what the hell? With seeming no rhyme or reason that makes no sense to their fans, and they don't have to explain themselves because after all, they are what they are, people who are marketing a product, themselves and when they get tired of marketing it and want to move onto bigger and hopefully better things, they often decamp without so much as a "Fuck you all very much, Im going to go do this now." I have lived through it countless times, and I am, in fact pretty immune to it at this point in my life. I do get sad when I hear that a band I enjoy no longer plays live music, but hell, I know how artistic temperaments are, so the fact that people did get together and managed to make wonderful music for a few years without killing each other amazed the hell out of me, especially with some of the flair for the dramatic I have observed in some personalities, my daughter, however, is another story.
She is a relative rookie to how the world of entertainment works. I mean, sure she has seen a few of her favorite cartoon shows get cancelled and she knows what it feels like to see something she treasures come to an end, after all, she was there with me when we watched the ending of Harry Potter and we cried together in the theater like the proud Potter nerds we are, but what happened today took the pain to a whole new level for her and I wasn't ready to have to explain that to her, especially a week before her damn birthday.
I know one, nobody, little, nearly 8 year old child doesn't figure into that kind of decision making when the bigwigs get together and decide to do things, but for fucks sake, what a dick move to make that kind of announcement right now.I was floored when I realized that there really would be no way to keep it from her. I had ordered her some more merchandise from the damn website and while I am delighted that the Bens and Uncle will be keeping it alive, honestly, Ben G freaks her out a little, she doesn't really know that much about Ben J, and while she likes Uncle Larry, she ADORES Jackson and Jerad with all her little heart.
Bless Jerad for sending me the message that he will be coming back from time to time, that is the first thing I showed her when she got home from church. She already knew something bad was up, her brother wouldn't let her on her computer and he was being too nice to her, (a sure tell something BAD had gone on), she was afraid her favorite boy had died so I had to go with with band aid method and just tell her that he had left the band, that they had broken up and were no longer together. The reaction was like she had been slapped.
You know I hate to see my baby cry, right? Heartbroken sobbing with plaintive little,'But why??" followed by "Ill never see them again, I told you!" Just rip my heart to pieces and set it on fire. Even her jerk brothers felt bad for her, so you know it was bad when they go in and give her hugs and try to soothe her. Her older brothers reaction was,"Why do I want to kick someones ass?" Leaves me thinking there may be hope for him as a big brother yet.
Shes hurting. But we talked about it quite a bit and she knows that its really not that bad when you look at it in perspective, after all, Jerad reassuring us that he would be back was hugely comforting to her, and she has the memories of all the great time that they gave her in the past that made such a huge difference to a little girl that had so much pain and sadness for so long by those boys who had brought us to the sunshine.
I dont know what this means for her relationship with her favorite boy as he takes off into new and uncharted territory. The people with the Monkey crew had always been kindly indulgent about getting her little missives to him, but in the big ole Hollyweird machine, I know that things tend to not always be that way. Things and people change, this has been her first lesson in that and while its an ongoing one, I am hoping it wont all be a negative one for her, after all, all her monkeys are still alive and kicking and she knows one that I held dear, isnt, so she knows there are worse things to contemplate.

Dear Roger:My Monkey Girl

I'm going to warn you now, I'm going to be in a mopey mood for the next couple of weeks, but I think I have a good reason, my baby is soon to turn 8. That may not seem like much of a big deal to most people, but to me, it is because I can see changes in her. She has always been an,"Old Soul", wise beyond her years, and with her intelligence far above that of an average 8 year old, she does things differently, but she has always managed to retain that somewhat youthful spirit and she had stayed away from the things that seemed to be the benchmarks of a little girl growing up, but lately, I have noticed a shift.
Since she was a small, small, girl she has adored the same boy. His grinning mug adorns the walls around her bedroom and whenever he showed up on tv or anywhere, the world stopped so she could watch and listen. If anyone said a cross word about him, she flew to his defense and there was hell to pay and often blood drawn. She was fierce and loyal and stalwart in her love and devotion, but a couple of days ago something happened, something that shocked us all, and left me wondering what to do? She was playing some educational game with her brother and they were conducting a an interview of each other and one of the questions was,"Who is your favorite actor?" I wasn't really paying too close of attention to what was going on until she said,(without hesitation),"Dan Radcliffe". The entire room stopped, and I swear you could have heard the sound made when a needle is drawn sharply across a record. Her older brother fell off the couch on to the floor as if shot, Stubby jumped up and ran over to feel her head and began asking if she was okay, and I just stared at her. Even Sticky was stunned.
She looked at us like we were all crazy. "I've seen ONE of Jackson's movies because mom says the others are too ADULT,(got the little sarcastic air quotes going for that), I loved AIM HIGH, but I'm Sorry, Harry Potter has been around my whole life and Dan Rad is awesome. I love Jackson as my favorite singer!" Chance was still laying in the floor as if he was in shock so she stomped over and kicked him before stomping off to her room and slamming the door, offended that we were acting so stunned. I went in later and she was laying in her bed, cuddling her stuffed monkey and still sniffling."I do love him! Dont say I dont! I just like Dan Rad too." I told her it was perfectly fine and normal, and that its the job of brothers to tease and harass little sisters and that she should be used to it by now.
She gives as good as she gets in the teasing and harassing department and she cuts the boys no slack when it comes to their disgusting habits. She has come stomping out of the bathroom, ire all over her face as she hunts up the miscreant who was last in the bathroom to yell at them about learning to aim or flush the toilet, or to not leave their fouled underwear in the bathroom along with wet towels. I drew the line when the day when she caught Sticky peeing with the seat down, smacked him in the back of the skull, made him stop peeing, lifted the seat after she made him wipe it off and then let him finish and angrily castigated him about forgetting to flush and wash his hands.Stubby told me this tale and warned me that she was acting like she was the ,"Boss" of the family. Maybe not the boss, more like the assistant zookeeper. She complains to me about the boys being,'Weird and gross" and she helps to keep them in line, but even she has her moments of savagery and keeping clothes on her is an ongoing project. Half the time she wanders around the house in her monkey panties, a set of skull crusher headphones and that monkey of hers hanging around her neck, or if shes feeling really creative, she wears her monkey beanie over the headphones.
She is getting older and she has started getting interested in older girl things, and there have been rumblings about hair cuts and dyeing and ear piercings and shes always asking about a tattoo,(my bad),and when she dresses to go out, she dresses like a punk rocker. She has developed an affinity for Bettie Page dresses and heels and quite often when we do go out, she is wearing her heels, carrying a small purse, and wearing a hat and gloves like someone from the 50's, though she is wearing garishly bright socks that quite often have skulls on them. I don't try to stifle her style and I have told her older brother to leave her alone, though there are nights he has angrily texted me from their ride to church about allowing her to go looking like a,'Suicide Girl in training". If he had his way, she would be back in the traditional second grade, wearing only little girl dresses, no monkeys, no computers, no music and a lot less attitude. He disagrees with her being in the advanced classes online where she is now taking some 4th grade level work and moving quickly though her lessons, he disagrees with her being allowed to go to concerts where she has fraternized with little rock stars and holds them to be her heroes,(though maybe not her favorite actor as of yet), he disagrees with her being allowed to listen to music like Golgol Bordello and Adam Ant. He thinks shes defiant and cocky and too smart for her own good and headed down the wrong path and soo many other things that he just really found fit to complain about,in spite of the fact that her one major request for her birthday was to be BAPTIZED on it,(which will be happening), but I think what it comes down to, it this, hes trying to be the big brother, the substitute father because for more than half her life she has had none, and hes realizing that she is doing quite well on her own. She is succeeding and growing and rising above it all.He tries to use our poverty and stress as an excuse for not getting his school work done, and the other day she called him on it. She said,"You just ate 8 eggs and the last of the bread, I have had half of a bagel and some koolade. I know whats going on just as much as you do. I'm doing my schoolwork. I have 8 classes in a day, you have 6, if you didn't gripe at mom so much, you would have more time to get stuff done." My baby girl always has my back, even when she is mad at me. Shes always been like that. Shes always been team mom. I don't know how much longer that will last, and I savor it like the last days of a perfect summer, because I know things change and she will eventually see me like the rest of them do, a pain in the ass that cramps her style, but for now, I am second in her heart to that monkey and I will take it.

Dear Roger: Having Kids Will Make You Crazy

I think I am evidence enough of that, but last night was one of those moments when I have to wonder, are some of those,"Missing" people simply parents who had a moment where they looked at what their formerly sweet little bundle of joy had done, realized that it was just too much for their sanity to handle, walked to the door, opened it, stepped out, started walking and just kept on going?
Child rearing is not for pussies. Yes, that is crass, forgive me. I spent a great part of last night scooping shit out of a commode so it didn't spew up at me as I attempted,(in vain), to plunge it down so the ONE toilet in our apartment would resume functioning after Sticky had, once again flushed something not meant to be flushed and then Stubby had seen fit to deposit a huge poop in it right afterwards. Couldn't find the number for the after hours maintenance, and didn't want to call them anyway because, obviously it was my kids fault and I cant afford the call out fee. When the plunger broke, I may have actually invented some new curse words. I ended up calling my eldest son who was at his girlfriends birthday party, and asked him to please find a plunger to bring home with him when he returned.
He showed up about an hour later with a plunger, and though he has a vastly weaker stomach than me, he bravely went in and began trying to help. Between the two of us, we began to work on clearing it and after about a half hour we had it sort of functioning again. I am still going to have to have the maintenance guy either loan me the pipe snake or come in and snake it for us to pull out whatever was dropped down there. This wasn't the first time this has happened.Sticky is a notorious toilet killer. He used to flush things like Superballs and because they are exactly the perfect size to fit into the bed in the bowl, that was death to the entire commode and meant replacement. He also killed cell phones, flash lights, key fobs to fancy keys that cost a couple hundred bucks to replace,his fathers lighters, tobacco(both kinds), and whatever else he encountered laying around. Hes not alone in this hobby, kids seem to get off on it and I have heard other friends horror stories about things their kids have flushed, up to and including, money into the hundreds of dollars, jewelry and so on. Forget having cool stuff when you have kids. You have kids now, that's your,"Cool Stuff" I guess is what they are trying to say.
My small daughter has caused her fair share of insanity inducing moments as well. She had the nickname,"Killer" when she was a toddler. She was hell on things like electronics, breakables, and fish, especially my eldest sons pet gold fish that he had managed to grow to a freakishly huge size of over 8 inches! It was a cool fish that would come up to the front of the tank and even interact with you, until daughter dumped an entire can of fish food into his tank not once, but twice. She unplugged the heater for his lizards terrarium, and then to add to the fun, she dumped an entire glass of sweet tea on one of my laptop computers, knocked over a ceramic bowl of mine, sending it smashing to the floor into shrapnel, but the worst of all her insanity inducing behaviors was the fact that she was a flight risk. She walked away from a baby sitter that my ex had dropped her off at right before he was arrested for taking a straight razor to me. She was missing for several hours out in an area of Flagstaff that was just full of stock tanks, large dogs, horses, registered sex offenders,abandoned mines and caves. She was around 2 years old and a cute little curly blonde haired baby girl that could have easily vanished forever, but a Mexican woodcutter who had found me in the middle of the road hysterically stopping people begging for help finding her,had gone and searched with his wife until they had found her wandering along the side of the road they said looking up at nothing but talking away to someone. The Mexican man was convinced she was talking to her guardian angel. I'm not ashamed to say I gave thanks to God, that angel that Mexican family and the sheriffs deputy who stopped me from beating the hair off the baby sitter when I got back to her house and found that she had calmly gone back to dying her hair like nothing was going on. She has always been a bit of a handful. I've faced a lot of my fears for that child, I handled a heart problem and gestational diabetes,during the pregnancy as well as an emergency c-section and an infection that nearly took us both out, sickness and stress worrying if she was going to live and then coming home to a hell that had only gotten worse, but kids...what can you do? She made up for it by potty training faster than anybody else, crying less and being a sweet and fun baby for me to raise so far, though she is willful and the leader of most of the chaos that goes on in the house.
My middle son, he was my easiest pregnancy and such a sweet baby that just couldn't eat anything. We had to replace carpets, furniture, clothes, and have cars steamed cleaned repeatedly because of him. His nick name was,'Spew boy" because he could projectile vomit over 4 feet and he could scream for hours on end. I spent more time at the doctors office, hospital, and just trying to find out what was wrong with him than I did with any of my other kids, but nothing seemed to work or help and luckily, eventually, it passed and he became able to keep food down.
I laugh when I see or read articles by people who call themselves parenting experts when they have one kid who is maybe a toddler. I don't call myself an expert and I have 4 kids ranging in age from 16 to 8 and one of them has Downs Syndrome, one is a Genius and I have worked to raise them on a single moms income with no child support, an ex who tends to throw a monkey wrench into the works more than he helps and no vehicle. I might be an expert on feeding and clothing them on a shoestring budget and helping them to not get into trouble, be decent human beings and succeed in life, but I don't consider myself an expert at much else. I can tell you the best way to get poop out of a heater vent at 3 am on a Winters morning, or vomit off the wall behind the commode, or when its best to just throw the car seat in the dumpster along with the child's clothes and diaper, but that you NEVER, EVER, EVER, THROW AWAY THE STUFFIE! they remember that shit and it will haunt you I have recovered Jackson so damn often that I am forever seen as a hero in my little girls eyes for that if nothing else. I'm an expert in that I will tell you to always carry extra wipes,even when they are toddlers,and that carry a towel inn your car at all times, get that hand held sprayer for the shower because you will need it other than to make up for your lack of sex life. Ziplock baggies should be carried at all times. Anybody that smokes around a kid is a dick who deserves to be punched in the throat. Music is your friend, use it, kids love it. Learn to be silly, kids are your excuse for it, use it. Being poor is okay, but you don't have to be a poor parent, kids only care that you try hard.

Dear Roger: Memories Of Music

I have been listening to a band that is fairly new to me quite a bit lately and I was trying to figure out why the music made me so damn happy and then the song that I linked to this blog came up in the play list and it hit me, taking me back to late March 1990 and the Persian holiday of Nowruz.
In my early 20's I lived in the Dallas Metroplex and went to the University of Texas, while there and I met and fell head over heels in love with an Iranian research scientist who was not only a Mensa member, he was a gifted musician in both voice and violin and a very popular member of the huge Iranian expat community of both Dallas and Houston. He could hear a song once and play it back perfectly, and he had a vocal range that should have had him singing professionally. We were an odd couple to say the least, but we had a wonderful time attending parties, traveling around Dallas to visit his friends and going to movies where I would describe to him what was going on, because, he was blind, and had been since he was 26. He could tell the difference between light and dark, but that was it, other than that he was blind, but he was fully capable of getting around in all kinds of ways.
The community he belonged to was the predominantly Christian and Zoroastrian and Domi Iranian community. They were viewed with suspicion by the Muslims in the area and my ex-husband tended to want to end him. I kept my relationship with him a secret for quite a while for his safety, but when late March rolled around, I was at his apartment when he got a phone call and it turned out he was being summoned to Houston to perform at a party. This happened to coincide with Spring Break so we decided to make an adventure of it. The people summoning him paid all his expenses and that meant a rental car and hotels for the drive down as well as food for us, so it was a free vacation and little did I know at the time, a life changing event for both of us.
We toured Fredricksburg, Austin, San Antonio, and Houston where we arrived at the gates of a house/mansion? that was amazing. The people who welcomed us in were some of the most kind and gracious people I had ever met and they ended up throwing the most fantastic party I have ever attended. The music, the dancing, the fire jumping, the swords and the alcohol of all kinds along with God knows what else,was amazing. I remember the crowd yelling,"Chief! Chief!" every time he would start singing songs that either made the laugh or cry and he could make that violin alternately break your heart or make it race. I wasn't left out to stand in the corner by myself, the odd person out, I was drug into the middle of it and made to feel part of a large family because everyone there was a refugee and though most of them were richer than God, they knew the feeling of being strangers in a strange place.
That music takes me back to that time. I was in my young 20's a vastly different person than I am now, as many people in their early 20's tend to be. That Nowruz changed me in many ways, and me and my Persian musician went different directions. I think of him often, especially when I see my oldest daughter and I see his smile and dimples.
I think of him often, and that week we spent and Im grateful for musics ability to take me back to that time, it was one of the very happiest times in my life.