Tag: Hip hop

The resemblance

She offered me water, from her huge one-gallon container. Hip-hop dancer-trainer, you see.

We need water, especially when we dance many sets at a local theme park to entertain and engage visitors.

So, you finished the first of the “girl w/ the dragon tattoo?” …..so it went. We broke bread and shared snippets of our interrupted lives.

Late Fathers Day installment.

Significant nevertheless.

With A. you don’t need to play “Anka’s Papa” (put those shoes upon my feet).

A earned  her own Sketchers at age of 4, being a child run-way model.

And joined a hip-hop team shortly after that. Now her team won 2nd place in Hip Hop International.

This year’s event will take it to bigger venue in Las Vegas, show of all shows.

I saw the resemblance (hidden, but I know: the ear lopes).

Anyhow, we were together as if never parted.

Can’t rewind or unwind the one-way flow of time.

Can only promise to see more of each other from here on.

She will be majoring in media. I recommended a mix of dancing and directing.

I hope she sees my point. Besides, women are getting behind the cameras to even earn an Oscar at directing (Jodie Foster started the trend).

How to train one’s eyes to see. Tip of the iceberg. I hope she listen. If any resemblance at all, she probably did not, and couldn’t wait to find out on her own. Like mine, my lessons were  hard-earned . I hope for A a life unlike mine i.e. without much interruption and with more people who can help her. She now grows up at the cusp of social media meteoric rise. She pointed to me at Best Buy the differences in latest version of phones.

Good luck A. Let Moore’s Law, Maslow‘s scale and Metcalfe Law work for you. Be in the way of opportunity and forget not to exercise those feet, whose shoes you had earned at an early age.

My girl got no tattoo, no attitude. She could have given the circle she is in.

Proud of A. Appreciative of those vacation dollars spent at the theme park where my daughter works. Every visitor helps. That’s an additional set of eyes watching my daughter’s dance group perform. Want some water?

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.