Tag: Fathers Day

Daughter-Daddy

Before my daughter arrived, I had heard of other people’s birth complications which required C-section etc…

So we took up Lamaze classes, and I felt “effeminated” among men and women with pillows.

When I drove A. home the hospital  offered to wheel her out (already strapped in the car seat to begin with). In the parking lot (A.’s first outing) some passerby said “Oh, how cute”.

I realized then I got “china” to be cherished and well-guarded.

The drive home was unnecessarily longer than usual (with light rain to dramatize the scene). At home, we had friends already with welcoming signs.

“Welcome home A.”

She was indeed special and welcome to this world (later, she would experience the Northridge earthquake, LA riot, dot.com burst, single-parented, 9/11 and great Recession. But that was for later).

A. grew up calling me Papi (after the baby sitter’s language).

A. has an amazing sense of coordination. This showed in her taking up Hip-Hop at an early age, and went on to win in competition (no 1 USA).

She collaborated with her “brown” friends (the new valley girls).

And conducted herself beyond reproach.

Any dad would be lucky to have a daughter like A.

She now in Jr College, juggling P/T job and school.

I used to have the same work load while in college.

Time passes more quickly when you are busy. It keeps you out of trouble.

On Father’s Day, I always received her self-made cards. This year, as in years earlier, always with pictures from A.’s childhood. The bond will never be broken.

Every man deserves a special relationship like this.

It redeems us .

You know you can look at yourself in the mirror when your daughter said “we’re tight”.

The role of the alpha males has evolved over the years: from protector to mentor, from “lord” to buddy.

This year A. sent me a picture with us wearing same T-shirts (in design and size).

Now, that’s team. It doesn’t matter that in the photo, she was a child in over-sized T-shirt (for some day, when she reaches middle-age, I will be fading away).

For that moment, as a team, we were like one, tight.

Daughter-Daddy. No business travel, no airport food.

Just sitting on the floor, at eye level. Give Daddy a hug, a kiss.

It’s like communion. I was absolved and consecrated.

It’s not wrong doing or right doing. It’s given that we are imperfect.

What matters is, like any other species, we are built biologically, to transfer our survival and artistic genes. Do this, don’t do that. Eat this, no, not that (poisonous).

So, we navigated through the Valley (San Fernando) and yes, Mountain peak (Grand Canyon). I kidded that A. was a “jungle boy”, when she took off her shirt on one hot day at the peak of the Aztec pyramid. Back in urban jungle, she is surrounded by her Hip-Hop friends. The girl is popular, and well-liked. I would rather you judge me by looking at how well she turns out.

You see, the best thing in life came in small packages. And even better, when it’s from above. A. didn’t have to send me any gift at all. She herself has already been one.

Daughter-Daddy. I promised her my 555th blog will be dedicated to her, for keep’s sake. That future might see more incidents and mishaps, but has one constant: Daughter-Daddy: tight.

Men on the verge of nervous break-down

Here comes the beaver or the beer. Whatever handy to help men cope with his “manpression”.

It is common knowledge that men hardly ask for directions when lost, much less share their problems. Women fare better, whether it’s over sweet, or sweat.

Jodi Foster, most admired for being an accomplished Yale actress-director, has had frequent run-ins with the types: from Taxi Driver (are you talking to me?), to Hannibal the Cannibal (I will tell you if you tell me) to Mel Gibson (Please tell it to the Beaver).

21st-century men are on the verge of a nervous breakdown (unless they belong to the superclass who got together to “discuss” wealth-sharing): warfare almost got outsourced completely to drones, customer service to foreigners, and child care to the state/single-parents.

This recession brought to surface a protracted problem: there are no more Happy Days of lunch-box toting through the gates of smokestacks workplace (see “the Deer Hunter” and the camaraderie of men).

I haven’t added another layer of culture on top of that: that of machismo men (South America, Middle-East), or penchant for face-saving (from Samurai to Confucius social order and harmony).

Think about the Tunisian vegetable vendor. In a NYT op-ed, Cohen penned “people (in the Middle East) with a job and prospect, don’t need virgins in heaven”.

We have had 8% unemployment, most likely men (like in the Shining “I am so bored, I am so bored …”)  join day-time TV  audience (who BTW, haven’t been catered to due to their huge lack in purchasing power). So, Ellen and Oprah just have to follow the money. http://finance.yahoo.com/blogs/daily-ticker/america-middle-class-crisis-sobering-facts-141947274.html

Meanwhile, our men, many in construction and financial, are on the verge of nervous break down (not all can travel to Australia or Japan to help rebuild). The President Council for Economic Advisors is cautioned to come up with construction projects  such as safety bunkers, to prevent massive death tolls caused by twisters and tornadoes.

It’s so fitting that BL’s raid still involved human.

Rainbow Six and an army of stay-at-home dads should both be honored. After all, when push comes to shove, as in United Flight 93, it’s men on the verge of nervous break-down who decided to lay down their lives for others. Men may seek help (from beer or beaver), but never for directions. There simply are no substitute for courage and survival instinct. Last Sunday’s event (the getting of Bin Laden) was cause for celebration: the human race is still in tact, male and female, together subdue the Earth (or the enemies, our thorns in the flesh).