Paddock vs. Petty: If You Had to Pick One
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I’ll declare at the outset that what I’m about to propose is a false
dichotomy. This world is not divided into Tom Pettys and Stephen Paddocks.
But I’m goi...
I don't blog here anymore. That's true on a number of levels as I haven't been nearly as consistent as I wanted to be over the last few years, really. But from this point on, it's true with finality. I decided I would no longer divide myself into a hundred different blogging entities. Now it's just a couple.
So if you care to stay up-to-date with all things me, adamkellogg.com is the place to fulfill that most bizarre of desires. This week's playlist just done got posted. I hope you'll check it out and enjoy.
And most of all, I hope you know how thankful I am that you ever decided to read anything I wrote in the first place. If not, I'll tell you: really, really, really thankful.
This is three posts in a row right now with nothing but playlists. I'm disappointed by that but also glad I'm at least posting something here to keep this particular pool of ideas from being overrun by algae. I want to post a lot of things, but I just haven't taken the time to let anything crystallize.
In addition to the playlist, though, I do want to express my excitement for tomorrow's event, Listen to Your Mother at 7:00 at the historic Memorial Opera House in downtown Valparaiso. It is produced, directed, emceed, and overall inspired by my friend Stephanie, who I've known in three distinct lives. It's true.
When people ask what this event is, the best way I know how to answer is: Awesome. When they press me for more details, I say it's really awesome.
Then I say that it is a dozen local writers reading short (like 5 minutes or so) pieces about mothers, motherhood, momness. Each one is different, although I have enjoyed every single one immensely every time I heard them. I feel privileged to be a part of it, especially since I'm a dude who could (and maybe should) have been easily dismissed as not mommy enough. Fortunately for me, I have a truly wonderful mother who definitely does deserve to be a part of this. Since I'll be reading something about her, I don't feel so out of place.
The other thing that makes me feel so glad and welcomed is just how amazing the other writers in this show are (I'm not the only guy, either, for which I'm grateful; Patrick is awesome). It's not that I feel I deserve to be in such fine company, it's just that they're so great and so much fun, I don't feel the least bit guilty coming along for the ride. I'm just not going to look that gift horse in the mouth . . . whatever that means, I'm not doing it.
I'm also really excited/nervous to meet face to face with people I've met only on twitter. It should be fun. Or completely frightening. Either way, not boring. And of course I'm excited for my mom to hear what I wrote and remembered and embellished and genuinely feel. I hope the experience, however minor, serves as a nice Mother's Day gift to her . . . because I really don't want to have to shop.
Without further ado (wait, how about just a little more ado . . . okay, thank you) here's this week's playlist full of mom-related music.
It's funny, Addison's going on a field trip today. And it's not the type where they go across town and look at flowers or pumpkins or Christmas trees. It's the kind where he's got to ride in a bus for an hour. A lot of parents (and maybe one of the ones in this house) are pretty nervous about sending their kids so far away, but I'm not at all. Should I be? Eh, he's fine. The truly frightening moments for me come when he's with me.
One of the scariest realizations I've ever come to as a father was when I saw how determined Addison was to imitate me. I would make him laugh, he'd try to make other people laugh. I like the Cubs, he'd say he liked the Cubs. He'd wake me in the morning to see I slept without a shirt, off went his shirt. I'd lose my temper, he'd do the same. It's not always cute.
By the time Colin came around, I knew the drill. I had to stay on my best behavior at all times. (Right. That happens.) But I knew that there was a strong possibility there would be two mini-me's running around. Only I was dead wrong. Colin doesn't imitate me (not nearly as much as I expected). No, Colin . . . imitates Addison. Addison likes Transformers, Colin loves Transformers. Addison sleeps with his sleeping bag on his bed, Colin does the same. Addison plays games on the Wii, Colin watches intently. (Sometimes this flattery annoys the living crap out of Addison, but that's another story.)
Basically, seeing someone who patterns himself after me develop a behavior clone of his own reminds me of this development from the movie Multiplicity, in which Michael Keaton's character, Doug, discovers that one of his clones has cloned a clone.
I don't mean Colin puts pizza in his wallet. It's just that now I'm realizing that any personality defects I may have passed on to Addison are only going to multiply as Colin learns to imitate them. This probably means I'm going to have to actively involve myself in my sons' lives to try to help them develop normally or something. I should get on that.
