AFRICAN AMERICAN DAD

I’m still enjoying the holiday season despite the recession that we’ve been in for the last year and I hope that others are too. I don’t think you need to buy stuff to enjoy the season. Sometimes you just need to do stuff. Stuff that takes you out of your comfort zone, like I did. 

On Thursday I got to play Santa Claus for the kids and families at the school where I work. I was tense enough to snap in two for hours before hand as I tried to get into my zone and searched for my motivation. Apparently it’s the perfectionist in me that will not allow me to go into something as obviously fun as being Santa without taking it as seriously as a surgeon takes surgery. Of course I tend to relax once I get going but I don’t arrive at my zen place easily. I was a teeny bit off given that a kid or two questioned my authenticity, but 99% of them were in full groupie mode.

Aside from the dehydration that followed an evening of extreme perspiratation under a crimson red plush polyester fur suit (and a belly stuffer that filled out the suit more than I could on my own) it was fun. I took pictures with most of the kids and answered their questions about my reindeer and sleigh and where I lived. I’d do it again, one day. Though next time I’ll bring some electrolytes and a fan.

I am something of a Christmas music junkie. I listen all day at work to this station and sometimes stream the online channels where you get even more variety (my favorite being the R&B channel). People come in and out of my office and comment on how they can’t believe that I can listen to holiday music all day, especially since I’m perceived to be a grouchy finance guy. To them I say few words, mainly because December comes and goes in an instant and I don’t have the time for such bah-humbug. At home I play everything from the Polar Express soundtrack to Brian McKnight’s awesome new holiday CD. I even have Josh Groban’s dramatic foray into the classics. I figure this season comes only once a year so I try to enjoy it.

I don’t dislike many holiday songs. However there is one about a donkey that I thought is inane - luckily I haven’t heard it all year. There’s also one about a dead lady getting new shoes that is beyond sad, but I kind of like it. Overall I find the holidays to be equally sad and joyous so there is a place for deep, depressing songs. BUT there is one song that after listening to it over and over again I just can’t get into. It was made in 1984 by some well intentioned Brits (aka Band Aid) and is called “Do They Know it’s Christmas?” I know you’ve heard it.

My problem with the tune is that it’s dated and a little ridiculous. When the song was written it was 24 years ago when feeding the people of Ethiopia was the African cause it was created - in one day - to raise money for. Today Darfur and HIV are the top priorities of most fundraising efforts related to the continent of Africa. In addition the lyrics aren’t appropriate. “Well tonight thank God it’s them instead of you” may be one of the the most dreadful lines ever uttered in a Christmas song, and I’m the same guy who likes the ditty about the shoes. It served it’s purpose, now it’s time to put it to rest. It’s not like it’s Jingle Bells.

Surprisingly Dev isn’t into any of the Christmas songs on the radio or the CDs. Last year he was singing all the time. This year he could care less. He’s forgotten the words to his favorite holiday music and has no intention of remembering them. He still believes in Santa though, for now. He’s an old five.

Do you remember at what point you stopped calling your father “daddy”? I don’t recall the age when I switched to “dad”, but I’m almost 100% certain I wasn’t five. Recently my boy decided to try on “dad” to see how it fit, and he appears to like it. I, on the other hand, am feeling a little nostalgia for three weeks ago when I was still daddy. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take my abbreviated title. For a few days not too long ago he was calling me Keith and that didn’t work for me at all. Plus, it’s better than some of the names that I’ve heard kids call their fathers. I just feel like he’s growing up so fast (cliche, but fitting).

What’s more is that he also refers to me as Bro. As in “Bro, do you want to play with me?” and “Bro, hey bro, can I have breakfast?” I don’t use the term. I like to use homie and brother, but never bro. So I’m at a loss for where he got it from. I must admit that I am amused enough to let it slide. OK I kind of encourage it. He’s developing a swagger that I I didn’t have until I was in college and swagger is usually a trait that leaders possess. I just have to make sure that it doesn’t transform into cockiness and arrogance - but he has a few more years until I have to worry about that.

One more thing. Forgive me, it’s a little off topic. This coming week a Charlie Brown special is coming on network TV. It comes on after the boy’s bedtime. Forget DVRs and the fact that you can buy it on DVD. Forget that it’s 2008. Think about when you were a kid and watching those specials (commercials and all) were, well, special. Do you let the five year old stay up or do you wait until next year, or perhaps the year after that?

These days it been fashionable to say things like “now all people will be judged by the content of their character” and “America has changed forever.” I’ll buy the latter argument because it’s ambiguous enough to read anything you want into it. The former, however, I have laid no false claims to. In my own experience I still get the same corner-of-the-eye looks I have grown used to in conservative Manhattan neighborhoods the I often find myself strolling through (the ones where you should have on a uniform or at least a name tag if you do not want to be looked upon with arched eyebrows after dark).

With good reason the media has been somewhat downplaying the racist activities of a creepy handful of folk that have swept the nation in the wake of Obama’s win. Be clear, people have been attacked both verbally and physically because of the unprecedented victory. Some (hopefully) small sections of the US are actually disgusted at the thought of a black man as Commander-in-Chief. So far Newsweek has done a story about this rising issue as has the Associated Press and this publication.

I’m disappointed in these incidents, saddened even, though not hardly surprised. One man or woman can bring a nation together in the name of unity the same way that individuals and groups can tear us apart in the name of separatism. I remember when the elders of our families and neighborhoods would say ”the more things change the more they stay the same.” As a child you don’t understand how profound those words are, as an adult you find yourself quoting them.

My family and I are praying for the safety of our next president. But we are also hoping that sanity prevails and that the talking heads aren’t right about a resurgence of hate groups and crimes. Because I’m a practicing pessimist, in the back of my mind - and in hushed pillow-to-pillow conversations with my wife - I wondered if renewed hope could also bring about renewed hate. I’m not loving the early answer but in the grand scheme my ancestors have seen a million times worse. Racism and hate are not gone, friends. The fight is not over. We must continue to work together to finish the job we started on November 4. Only time will tell if times are changing. 

This year I’m not sure I want anything under my tree, given that Christmas came early with the election of Barack Obama as our next president. It seems a bit selfish to ask for anything more than that. Plus my son is happy and healthy and attending the public school of our dreams. Yet for some reason there are still things that I feel like I should toss out there to see what comes back. My guess is that there are no big red sacks that can carry the load of my wants but I’ll go for it anyway.

First, I would like for you to bring a bit of happiness to my mother. If you are really watching us like some creepy old stalker than you know that my mother hasn’t been truly happy in a long time. I’m not sure what it will take to get her to a better place in her life but perhaps you do.

Second, I’d like for all of my family and friends to find some comfort and security in their lives if they are lacking it. I’m not sure they need gold plated faucets like Kimora Lee - I think some affordable homes in safe and comfy neighborhoods would do. Heck, why not spread this one to all people who need it. 

Third, I’d like for you to get my brother to commit to actually getting a colonoscopy. He’s the only brother left who needs to get one and for some reason he hasn’t done it yet. He’s the oldest which means he’s at the biggest risk of the big C so he needs to get in there and get it done. Yes, he’s obviously dumbass but he’s still my brother and I love him.

Fourth, I’d like for my grandmother and cousin to have the strength continue on their paths toward recovery.

And finally I’d like a Wii, a Kindle, and a Blu Ray player to go along with a heaping pile of money. I’m human, dude. No man can be 100% selfless! I know I’m sending out this letter earlier than most but apparently getting things rolling early - like starting on the campaign trail two years before election day - can get some really good results.

Warm regrards,

Keith

(P.S. - I’m Cc-ing God on the first four items. I’m not stupid. And for those of you who think a letter to Santa is a punk move, well, when you have a beautiful wife and child and are cool with DJ Black Adam, you don’t worry about such things.)

Yesterday I was lucky enough to be able to take the day off from work to be dad. I took the day because Dev’s school was closed - one of the many holidays that public schools force us parents to make other arrangements for. Anyway, I seized the opportunity and walked with my son to our local voting station. Once there we waited in line for about a half an hour to cast our vote. This was notable, and telling, because I have voted in the two presidential elections prior to this one and I never had to wait in line. Waitingwas probably the best part - it allowed us to take in the electricity of the day. In the booth father and son’s hands intertwined as we hastily pulled a lever that helped change the world.

For some reason I cannot articulate the events of yesterday. I am almost at a complete loss for words. But not quite. We made history on November 4, 2008. We made American history, black history, and world history. We, as a people, have corrected (at least on some level) eight years of mistakes and failure, and for that we should be thrilled.

I’ve always been a proud American black man but today as I walked the streets of Manhattan and the Bronx my chest stuck out a little further, my swagger was a little more pronounced. Because of what we did yesterday my son will inherit a country with greater possibilities than the one my ancestors built on broken backs and burdened shoulders. I must say though - and please forgive my inability to look at this triumph without a critical eye - that as the country banded together for a common goal we made history, but we did not erase it. 

That being said, cheers to the United States of America! Once again a beacon of hope for all who dare to dream of a better world. And cheers to Barack Obama, the 44th president of country where freedom truly does ring. 

It’s almost that time of year again: the holiday season. Since the boy was born the holidays have taken on new meaning. We now have the joy of looking at the season through the eyes of a child and that reminds of of why we like cold-as-heck November and December in the first place. What’s more, now that the boy is getting older his toys are getting much cooler and the boredom that is associated with playing Chutes and Ladders (fun game for kids, not so much for adults) will give way to dueling disks, web shooters and remote-controlled doohickeys. Shopping may bring some savings in this lousy economy too.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I still have to get past Halloween and make decisions about the looming so-called obligations. My mother has already called me to let me know that Thanksgiving dinner will be held at my aunt’s house in Pennsylvania. That’s a total of four hours of driving there and back on a perfectly good holiday when I could be sitting at home in my pjs with my family, relaxing. Plus my wife has gotten to the point where she can be considered a master of fine holiday cooking and I look forward to gorging myself more and more each year. So, as is becoming tradition, I am trying to avoid the drive, and the extended family, in favor of a little food induced holiday hedonism.

A more immediate obligation is that at work I have to dress as a book character for Halloween. I have no clue what to wear, or why for that matter. It does sound like an opportunity to have a little fun at work that I otherwise would not have. And costumes can be used for all kinds of things! Readers, let me know if you have any suggestions on what school-appropriate character I should be. I’m thinking about being the black Lestat. Hey, he was in a novel before he was in a movie.

Things are still good in kindergarten. Great actually. The Dev is loving every minute of his new school and honestly I can’t blame him. The kids seem to have the best time in that place. (I write that last sentence as a jealous nine-to-five worker with four hour daily commute.) I asked him the other day what he did in school and he said that he ”did” Dora’s house. I was not amused given that it seems kind of girly to be playing with a doll’s house (Yes, I played with my friend and her Barbie’s at that age so sue me for being Cro-Magnon about my son doing the same thing 24 years later.) However my wife explained to me that Dora’s crib is kind of gangsta and the boys kind of make it into Dora’s gateway to hell. That, oddly, made me feel better.

My feelings about the dolls aside he’s having a ball. He swims in the after school program on Wednesdays and he learns music on Mondays and he studies Spanish and art. It’s fun to see as my boy acts like the friggin’ mayor when he walks into school and gives away waves, kisses, and hugs to staff and friends just like a savvy politician. As far as kindergarten kids go he’s well regarded and people find him engaging.

The only snafu that has arisen in the last several weeks is that he was caught using some derivation of the word ass. He’s always gets caught no matter how many kids test the boundaries of forbidden words. I still don’t curse around my son, I’ve always said that and I stand by it (I do curse though when he’s not around - I’m like a news anchor in that way). When I do curse I use much filthier words than ass so I know he didn’t get that corny nonsense from me. In a conversation about Palin and McCain you may not be able to tell the difference between me and Andrew Dice Clay or Richard Pryor in terms of language used. What’s more, his mother hasn’t uttered a bad word of any kind since I’ve met her (I know it’s very disturbing and difficult for me to believe too) so I know she’s not the culprit. Yet I’m sure we are known as the potty mouth parents of his new class. Whatever. It is what it is. A few comedically placed vulgarities by a five year old will not ruin the greatness of his new school experience.

I am truly happy with my son’s new school. I do wish that his joy could spill over into the rest of life. But alas if life were a joy 100% of the time it’d be called heaven and you’d be dead. Trials and tribulations remind you that you are alive and I guess that’s the silver lining. Nas (my all-time favorite rapper) once said “I need a new n**** for this black cloud to follow because while it’s over me it’s too dark to see tomorrow.” I feel his sentiment but I would rather get rid of all black clouds than hand them over to another dude.

Cheers to kindergarten and making it past the clouds and to the rainbow!