Lefty Limbo

I watched him as we chugged along. Our window was open and the refreshing Fillmore breeze blew in and played with his hair. I felt like we were so far away from home. In a way we were, being surrounded by fields, mountains and nurtured orchards, so unlike the concrete, tar and detours of the city under constant construction.

The train’s wheels resounded with the repetitive pattern of steel on steel, and I got sentimental for a time and era that was never mine. But he’s mine, I thought to myself. He was ours, and I cherished moments like this, knowing they were as fleeting as the lush landscape that passed us by.

Mini me.

As my fatherhood progresses, I wonder how much my son inherited from me naturally, and how much of his knowledge/interest is actually instilled by our teaching.

I want to encourage him to play drums like I do. So far, he’s taken a lot of interest in it, and Angela has told me that he loves to drum on things rhythmically. So is that simply a mimicking of my actions, or is it really “in him” to be interested in drumming?

As he grows up, there’s been a constant note-taking on his behavior and habits. It’s been a fun game between Angela and I to see and/or remark who he takes after. But how much of our influence will mold him, and how much of his development is on auto-pilot from the start? The questions only get deeper as I watch my son blossom before my very eyes.

When we were new parents and lil’ Greg was only a few months old, I’d run into other parents with older kids who would look at us and say, “Oh, you’re in the easy stage. Cherish these times while you can, ‘coz when he gets older, you’re gonna miss ‘em.” Sure enough, it’s true. Not to say that I dislike the way things are now, but having the “2-hour leash” was a heckuva lot easier than the 24-hr. surveillance mode I find myself in nowadays. So now when I see new parents, I think the same thing. Not sure how to put it, but there’s both a beauty and a tragedy in watching my kid grow up. The beauty lies in the constant milestones and discoveries, and the tragedy resides in the loss of innocence by the same milestones and discoveries. Isn’t that crazy?

On the other hand, it’s always interesting to run into parents who have kids around the same age as Greg (3 yrs. old). The sequence of events is almost always the same:

1. There’s always this silent pause to see how they interact with each other, and a readiness to address any impolite or unsavory actions (purely objective to the parents, of course…which presents a myriad of outcomes).





2. Then, if everything appears ok between the two kids, the parents make eye contact. This could be followed by 1) a mutual smile or chuckle of amusement between both parent(s)/couples, or 2) a smile or chuckle of amusement by one parent or couple, but a maintained weary or cautious look by the other parent/couple.





3. If option “1″ occurs, there is an exchange of general compliments, which includes a requisite “How old is he/she?.” From here, the conversation can extend to a variety of parenthood topics, the comparisons of which can lead to mutual bonding, or a realization that the children are being reared in different ways.





If option “2″ occurs, the realization of potential temperament differences results in the diminishing of “friendly” feelings, and the kids are eventually separated without any further acknowledgement between the parents or couples.

Interestingly, in any case, I’ve found that the focus always lies in the kids and their interaction, and the actual introduction between parents hardly ever occurs. I can definitely count on one hand how many times I’ve actually introduced myself to the other parent(s). Yes, we find out nearly everything about the kids, but the parents’ names are almost never known. Why does this happen?

We bought Greg a $5 bubble gun not too long ago, and he’s been having a blast with it since. With fresh batteries installed, it produces an endless swarm of bubbles, that, driven by the wind, spiral gracefully down our street…and soapily adhere to the newly-washed gleaming surfaces of luxury vehicles. Above, in less windy conditions, Greg attempts to fill our kitchen with bubbles—unsuccessfully, of course, due to the screen on the window.

But when the batteries start to lose their juice (and they do in a short time, thanks to Greg’s permanent trigger finger), the air flow from the nozzle no longer produces swarms of tiny bubbles, but rather work to inflate one big one, which he really gets a kick out of seeing.

It’s too bad that these greasy gigantors don’t detach from their maker and loft themselves wobbily on the wind, onto newly-washed surfaces of luxury vehicles. Nevertheless, add this gun to his ever-growing collection of toys that I would’ve killed for when I was a kid.

We thought the Yogurtland on La Brea was busy. Man, the one in Artesia is way more packed. Doesn’t stop Lil’ Greg from having fun though.

See that monster truck on the table? I totally dig that thing. Greg kinda digs it too, but I think I like it more than he does. It’s one of a series of 1:64 scale monster trucks called Hot Wheels Monster Jam. For a quick link, check out this guy’s list and pics of trucks. These trucks are cool in every way…from the immense amount of detail, big rubber tires, crisp colors and deco, and most of all the nifty “suspension system” which allows 4-wheel independence. Yet another geek goodie.

An update on the “cool robot”

So I got the robot in the mail the other day. Excited and hoping to surprise Goyo, I popped in some batteries and flicked the switch. The eyes and ears lit up, and there was the signature “engine sound” advertised on the box…but the darn thing didn’t move.

I contacted the seller regarding what I believed to be defective merch. They’re willing to take it back, but I have to pay return shipping. Sux. Just to make sure, I’m gonna buy a pack of AAs and pop ‘em in one more time before I box this thing up.

I’ve been trying to find some cool “bump n’ go” battery-operated toys for my kid. I remember having a few of them in my ’70s childhood, namely a silver and red tin locomotive with lights and sound, and a police car with a red siren on top.

I guess it’s natural for a father to rekindle his childhood fascination by getting the same kind of toys for his kid. Heck, I already got him Sizzlers and some other retro-repro things. What next?

Anyways, I found a cool repro bump n’ go robot on Ebay for a pretty good price. So I went ahead and watched it, marking the auction end with two alerts on my iPhone calendar (which is awesome, btw…a feature I totally overlooked until recently, and I’ve had the phone for almost a year now…duhr).

Luck would have it that the auction end happened while I was on the 5 North headed to band practice in NoHo. I’m not one to use my iPhone while driving, so I pulled over in just the nick of time to put in my bid (which turned out to be the only bid on this item), with a scant 25 seconds left in the auction. Kee-razy.

I’ll be sure to show it to you when I get it…and better yet, I’ll let you see if Greg did or didn’t dig it. =)