Author: Josh

Our baby’s due date is a month from today.  I know this because I looked at the calendar this morning.  I am a human who is fully capable of aggregating and analyzing complex data from a wall calendar and am also capable of sticking a booger in my eye.

April 21st.  This date marks the 170th anniversary of The Battle of San Jacinto where Texas secured its independence from Mexico.  To commemorate this battle which is considered, by many historians, as one of the most important in world history, I have decided to consider naming our first-born after one of the lesser-known heros of the Battle of San Jacinto:

Bob “G-Thang” Martin
Michael “Pistol Whip” Weinstein
Hong “Arms” Nguyen
Alberto “Hopper” Rodriquez
Stanley “The Steele” Simmons
Francine “Mean Eye” Blauvelt
Chuck Norris
Giosue “Cookie” Laurentiis
Jake “The Snake” Roberts

Everyone keeps asking, “Are you excited?  Is Elise excited?  Do you know what you’re having?  Do you have ‘everything’?  Are you ready?  Is the nursery done?  Can I borrow $20?”

Fifteen years ago I learned while training for the Preliminary Standard Aptitude Test to use the answer “C” if ever uncertain.  By the way, “C” is never to be confused with “si” thanks to Pistol Whip Weinstein and his staff of dachshunds.

I am excited.  Elise is more so excited that she’s been known to high-knee around the house naked while practicing her “Hee hee hee, whooooooo” breathing techniques.

I’m not nervous, scared or anxious.  Tens of thousands of people become parents everyday.  Elise and I are happy and healthy and if I had to put money on it, I’d bet our baby will be the same.

I don’t know if we have ‘everything’ or if we’re ready.  There’s never really a time when you’re ready because you don’t know what you’re getting ready to be ready for.  What if the kid is born with an extra armpit?  How do you ready yourself for that?  And would Three Pit Baby Bjorn be a cool name for a band or what?  This is one of those life adventures that I’ve been taking in stride.

Elise wants to try to deliver naturally (no anesthetic).  She has been employing many resources such as books, videos and consultations from other moms.  She finally bought a book on hypnobirthing.

I, myself, am having a natural childbirth in that I’ve opted to not subject myself to informatation overload and to take in the whole experience as is comes.

In my last month as a childless human I plan on embracing sleep and my rarely employed gag reflex.

I jumped out of an airplane on Saturday evening. Since then I’ve found it very hard to think of anything other than jumping out of airplanes. Oh yeah, and a baby due in a month. But back to jumping out of airplanes…

Since then I’ve been checking out websites, photos, videos and have subscribed to a great skydiving Podcast. I keep yapping at Elise about skydiving to which she responded tonight, “I bought you that tandem jump because you said you wanted to jump out of an airplane. I didn’t think you would get this excited about it! Is this your new hobby?”

It wasn’t until hearing her response that it dawned on me: This is my new hobby.

Since we found out that Elise was pregnant her dad has boasted twice that he took up a new hobby with the birth of his two children. With Eric it was cars. With Elise it was photography. I consider Steve very well versed in both subjects.

Up until now I have felt somewhat disappointed that I hadn’t yet found my new hobby. In the past six months I’ve felt like I’ve been missing out on some sort of rite of passage.

I’ve found my rite of passage.

Mom always told me I was an “air sign”.

On Saturday afternoon I was thrusted out of an airplane while traveling at 120mph and at 10,500 ft. and it was THE MOST AMAZING EXPERIENCE EVER!!!

Two days later and I still can’t put the experience and my feelings into words. I can’t stop thinking about it and my heart is still pounding as my body and mind beg for more, more, more!

I’m hooked. I want to do it again right now. Freefalling 7,000 ft. in 45-seconds – there’s nothing like it. It’s an individual rush, the flight is an enlightening and spiritual experience. It’s one of my childhood dreams that has come true: to fly.

I know it will mean so much more when I can jump alone.

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, –and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of–wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air….

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor even eagle flew–
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

John Gillespie Magee, Jr. (June 9, 1922 — December 11, 1941)

I was interviewed by iParenting.com in December because 1) I love to cook 2) my wife is pregnant and 3) I am a cognizant black man who prefers pink shirts and knows the pirate treasure.

Peace out.

Friends and strangers alike always offer unsolicited advice for first-time parents. A great tidbit I recently picked up from John was, “Don’t call EVERYONE while you’re on the way to the hospital to have the baby. That means EVERYONE will be there when you don’t want them there. Wait until after the baby is born and call those who you need.”

Marc called on Monday to dispense not so much advice, but more of a “how it’s going to be”:

“We was poor. And when we wuz hungry, we ate crawfish. When thuh wuz no mo crawfish, we ate fowl. When thuh wuz no mo fowl, we ate sand.”

“Yuh ate SAND?!?!”

“We ate sand…”

Hear the parent prophet here.

Setting your first born’s sonogram video to the Forrest Gump theme song is about as smart as drinking boxed wine while chopping onions and staring at a lava lamp.

Gus and I tested out the new Jeep stroller this morning while Elise was at work. We strapped on the cargo packs after loading them with guarine- and taurine-tanked drinks, twelve-guage shells, a winch and some granola. Bring on the Zombie Eater. We’re ready. I think.

I hung out with Travis tonight. On the way to his house in the now trendy area of Austin I got to thinking; Travis has been one of my closests friends for 19 years. NINETEEN YEARS.

Travis lives off of east 11th. Ten years ago you drove down east 11th for either drugs or barbacoa. You can still get either in that area but can now find solace in doing so in your rented Land Rover.

The two of us caught up and chatted for a bit before heading over to Snake Eyes Vinyl to check out a doo-wop ensemble that is comprised of a few friends of Travis’s.

We waited in Snake Eyes Vinyl’s parking for an hour among the trendsetting emo kids. I sat on an embankment while Travis made casual smalltalk with people. I took in the crowd while waiting on Travis. The others who were waiting were all kids. I could, biologically speaking, be most of these hipsters’ father. I had a very difficult time ascertaining the source of their collective rebellion based on the way most were dressed.

The girls looked fairly normal, most of which were cute and wore normal clothes comprised of jeans or skirts, normal shoes, t-shirts and nice haircuts.

The boys were wearing capri-style jeans, cut off mid-shin and and tight fitting Salvation Army-find t-shirts. Most sported dark socks pulled up mid-shin and new canvas Chuck Taylors. Many had forearm tattoos and were carrying 16-ounce Budweisers and smoking Marlboros. All donned bad Goo Goo Dolls frontman do’s. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. What is this style? They definitely aren’t angered by anything. There’s no ominous social, musical or cultural discrepency that warrants leather wrist bands and girly hair. What is this rebellion and why is their hair so important?!?!

I then realized that they all actually have hair and quickly remembered a time when I once took hair for granted. I also realized that when I was that age I had long (non-thinning) hair, wore shorts, Dr. Marten boots, a flannel shirt tied around my waist, smoked cigarettes, wore small hoop earrings in each ear and took a guitar everywhere I went because I WAS COOL. I had a cause. If I could remember what that cause was right now I would document it here but I’m too preoccupied with trying to write this while plucking my ear hairs.

Once I get this skin-tight Von Dutch t-shirt over my 30-year-old protruding gut and buckle my studded white belt I’m going to get to the bottom of this cultural phenomenon and then it’ll be on like Donkey Kong (will that be available on PS3?)

I’ve always taken great pride in the fact that Elise is annoyingly frugal. But now it’s gotten to the point where she flat out steals.

Late last week she went to Target to return some things and to purchase very small clothes with the socks built into the pants. After checking out she made her way to the parking lot with an extra bag full of miscellaneous trash and plastic clothes hangers. She took the trash bag from the cash register.

Earlier this week she went to Wal-Mart for paper towels, shampoo, razors, etc. She came home with a bag full of little girl halter tops and leggings. She took a bag from the lady who was in line in front of her.

Last night we drove over to a friend’s house to pawn off Elise’s old college days futon. We stopped at HEB on the way home to pick something up for dinner. We got home and I unsacked the groceries.

“When did you get eggs?”

“I didn’t get eggs.”

“Why did you get bread? You just bought bread a couple days ago.”

“I didn’t get bread.”

“When did you get tomatoes?”

“I didn’t get tomatoes.”

She made off with a bag of groceries from the lady in front of us at the grocery store.

Despite my incessant begging against it, Elise returned the little girl halter tops and leggings. We’re keeping the bag of trash and bread though. That’s how we roll.

I put our budget on paper earlier this week. In the past 12 years I’ve had the budget on my head. And I did a great job with the budget. Now I’m facing a kid on the way and a temporarily unemployed wife. The first thing I noted when I put things on paper was how much we were spending on dining out. I immediately scratched all dining out from our budget.

We dropped the monster truck off at the mechanic’s on Monday night because 1) it was overheating 2) it has an oil leak 3) the air conditioner is broken and 4) the accelerator pedal was sticking.

After dropping the truck off I hopped into the other truck with Elise. She said she was hungry for a hamburger. It was then that I explained to her that I had created a tangible budget. She immediately agreed with my financial goals and set herself to prepare the fish that has been stinking up the fridge for the past week and a half for our dinner. I caved and suggested we go out like frivolous gang busters. We spent our last romantic dining out evening as a childless couple in the company of a car hop at the Sonic in Oak Hill. Elise had the #1 combo with mayonnaise, small fries accompanied by a seasonal 2006 cherry limeaid. Yours truly had the double jalapeno cheeseburger and onion rings with a subtle, unsweetened iced tea.

We picked up the monster truck tonight. It runs like new. What’s funny is the repairs on the truck cost half of what I actually paid for the truck two years ago. That’s better than a car payment considering how little I actually paid for the truck. I love my monster truck. I’m going to search for a monster decal to put on it now that it’s been risen from the near-dead.
Short term goals: 1) Have one last nice dinner with the Zombie Eater’s mom 2) Have the child and send it to Bangalore to either a) work for Dell or b) fabricate shoe lace tips for New Balance 3) put 500,000 miles on the monster truck.

I keep meaning to create playlists for myself so I can have preferred music to listen to during my commute to and from work.  Last night I created a playlist on a whim so I could chipper myself jolly for Monday morning.

• Blood Sugar Sex Magik – Red Hot Chili Peppers — Because glorious euphoria is my must.  Or something.
• Sometimes I Do – Social Distortion — Because sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t and sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t.
• Keep It Loose, Keep It Tight – Amos Lee — Because your friends don’t always have crappy taste in music. ;-)
• Nothing – Anthrax — Because it’s better than caffeine.
• Whiskey In The Jar – Metallica — Because musha rain dum-a-do-dum-a-da and whack for my daddy-o.
• Crazy Mary – Pearl Jam — Because that’s how I wanted our high school garage band to sound like.  Instead we sounded like Slayer meets Neil Young meets the Cocteau Twins.
• I Am One – Smashing Pumpkins — Because sometimes I think I am two.
• Everybody Wants to Rule the World – Tears for Fears — Because I want sharks with frickin’ laser beams attached to their heads!
• Good Times – Tommy Lee — Because it sounds like a MTV reality show theme song and makes me think that I’d look good running and laughing on the beach in a bikini .
• Bad Things – Wednesday 13 — Because love songs make me giddy.
• More Human Than Human – White Zombie — Because sometimes I feel like I am the jigsaw man.
• Goodbye My Lover – James Blunt — Because Elise listened to this song one morning, became saddened and wrote me to tell me how wonderful I am and that she loved me more than life itself.  I wrote back and told her to sober up.  I’m still trying to redeem myself.
• The Dare – Piggy D. — Because I’m biased.