Sucker

I used to hate all that cutesy-poo behavior that parents exhibit with their children. Case in point would be doing things like putting sunglasses on newborns. It just seemed fairly goofy.

But..........

I've fallen prey to it now that I have children of my own. It's just kinda funny to watch them when they're wearing these things. They sort of look around in slow motion wonder. Clearly their brains are registering something has changed with their field of vision and they react by these somewhat dazed looks. It's funny for me and they seem to enjoy it.

Plus, sunglasses on babies are a heck of a lot cooler than.....I dunno.....Mickey Mouse clothes and stuff like that. I'll continue to resist that for as long as possible.

Decibels Gone Wild...

Have you ever heard a baby cry? I don't mean a cooing, vaguely dissatisfied cry, but a full-on wail?

It commands attention.

Now, try TWO babies blaring their lungs out at the same time. Extra bonus points for misery if they are your own children. Their stereo howling goes right into your gut, and your heart.

I was looking after both boys by myself yesterday. It was a cacophany of unparalleled noise. Whenever they start rocknrolling with the crying gig I run between the two of them frantically trying to placate their cries. I'll soothe one, and move onto the other only to have the boy I just soothed start all over again.

It usually ends in tears. Mine.

I imagine it must look rather comical to an outsider to see me running to and fro while these two babies are declaring their unhappiness. I'm sure I look like an idiot.

The thing is though is that nature seems to have designed it this way. Crying forces you to want to do something about it. Anything. With the volume my kids produce sometimes you'd think the world is ending, or that they are in some dire pain. The reality is they probably just have a poopy diaper.

I'll tell you what, the silence that follows a serious round of wailing is the sweetest moment. At that point, all seems right with the universe once again.

Nature is a clever thing. Its cleverness sometimes kicks my ass though.

A strange kind of sightseeing...

I was in Seattle all last week with work. It was hectic and poor Heather was alone with the boys for an entire 6 days. I had to go up there though, so off I went.

Last Friday a colleague and I finished the day early and decided to do some sightseeing. I suggested going to the place in the above photo. It is, in fact, Bruce Lee's grave. His son is buried right next to him. I wasn't sure if my colleague would be game. I mean, going to a cemetary isn't exactly everyone's idea of a good time, but I think he was just glad to get out and about. It gave us something to do aside from going to that dopey Space Needle.

I had been to the Lee family grave a couple of years ago, but I wanted to see it again. For all the years I have stuck with martial arts, it is a kind of personal Hajj I guess. Certainly I am not the most accomplished martial artist out there by any measure, but I've put about 20 years of my life into these pursuits, so it is part of who I am. I really cringe when people talk about martial arts though. It wears a bit of a dorky face at times. I try to keep my zeal to myself therefore. It's a personal thing that I don't wear on my sleeve.

Bruce Lee however......now there was a real icon. He transcended racial, national, and martial arts boundaries with incredible success. Regardless of whether someone does martial arts or not, everyone knows the guy. He had charisma, vision, and dedication in spades.

How this ties into the theme of my journal is relatively simple. As a young boy I watched a fair amount of TV as young boys do. I can remember from a very early age, maybe 7 or 8, catching one of Bruce Lee's films. I can't recall the film, but I recall the moment. For reasons I can't explain I was drawn in as a moth to a flame. His mere presence captivated me. That feeling resonated throughout my youth. I was drawn to Asia. Eventually it would draw me to live in Japan for 3 years as well.

Now, here's the part I think about from time to time. It was in Japan where I met my wife, and it was with my wife that we now have our two boys. Considering that Bruce Lee stands as my initial catalyst into an interest in Asia and marked the beginning of my path that would lead me to Japan, perhaps I do feel some kind of gratitude to this man that I never met.

Granted, I won't dramatically say that all of these things can be defined so simply. There were many other factors that led me to martial arts, an interest in Asia, and an eventual residency there, but certainly Bruce Lee factored into it.

So, the least I can do is go and pay my respects to this person. Clearly, I am one of thousands to do so, and my little journey there seems a bit corny, but whatever, it was good to go.

As a parent, I am keen to expose my children to some of the same interests I hold. I would be overjoyed if they showed an interest in learning Kung-Fu or any other martial arts. It would be something we could share together. It would feel as if this part of my life had come full-circle in some ways. I remind myself though that they might not be into it at all. That's fine as well. These are just thoughts that go through my head.

I do wonder who will be the icons of my children though? Aside from the obvious parental component that is ever-present in their lives, who will influence their paths?

Which face on the screen will ignite something that already rests within?

What will be the soundtrack to their lives?

How will I ever explain to the boys the importance of having the entire collection of The Chemical Brothers discography, or why Husker Du's "New Day Rising" is something to be honored?

Will they understand it? Or will they look at me with rolled eyes and a sigh usually reserved for adults when they attempt to get hip with youth?

I think about this quite a bit. Music, punk rock, and all that came with it was pretty much the foundation on what I built my adolescence on. The trickle-down effect into my adult life is certainly noticeable. While there has been obvious (and necessary) temperance in my zeal towards living with a punk rock heart, it still pounds within me. The naive edge is gone and has been replaced with a somewhat wiser world view, but it is part of my grain.

So, I wonder, what will my boys grain be?

I have far too many CDs in my house right now. As I write this, Fugazi's entire work sits next to Firehose, and Leftfield is hanging out with Led Zeppelin. My music collection is not a vast one compared to others, but it's healthy enough and lives like a secret treasure in two wooden cabinets handmade in India. Finn and Lachlan sometimes lie on the floor in front of them.

I look forward to the day when I can begin to pull out some of this music for them. For example, the anticipation of explaining the brilliance of Pulp's "Common People" is a thing I look forward to greatly. However, will it all be lost on them? I can remember looking through my father's music collection when I was young. I was drawn in by his LPs, but somehow his Boz Scaggs, ELO, and gospel stuff never took hold.

Will it be the same with my children? Will they look at these musical touchstones of my life as mere dinosaurs? Relics of the past that have no relevance to them now? Or will some of it seep into their conciousness resulting in a "Yeah Dad, this stuff rocks!!" confirmation.

I suppose it doesn't really matter though if they get into Mudhoney, The Verve, or Death Cab for Cutie. I just want them to find music as important as I did. Who knows what songs and styles will sing to this generation's soul? It could be radically different than what I was into, and perhaps it will be just as confounding to me as my love of punk rock was to my parents, but I just hope that the sirens of music are strong enough to pull my boys into shore. It happened to me, and it was music that guided me through life many times. More times than I probably realize.

So yeah, forget the genre, I simply desire music to be a part of who they become and I hope to be one of the aural navigators that leads them there.

It would be cool if they got into Naked Raygun though, and they better like The Pogues no matter what.