StevenVinson.com

My thoughts tonight are sort of stuck on how temporary things are. I was looking at some pictures of my father and mother, of some cousins, nieces. Some from a few years ago, some from 15 or 20 years ago. Then some pictures of my grandmother from 20 or 30 years ago. There’s one of my dad’s family from a good 70 years ago or so. It’s probably the last one when they were all together. His dad died shortly after. Then his sister. Only 3 of the 8 people in that picture are living today. How odd it must be for my dad to look at that picture and think about those days. Long gone. Most of his family dead. A very short period of his life, but among the most impactful.
My thoughts turn to my childhood and my brother and mom and dad. Hard to imagine those days sometimes. Even looking at pictures sometimes feels as though I’m looking at someone else’s childhood. Surely that childhood could not have produced this adult with this life and these memories. Right? But it is very real. And I gave thought in those days to what now might be like. I was pretty far off.
Now, here I lay. In my dad’s bed on an unplanned but needed visit to see my mom. I think of how quickly my brother and I grew up. How quickly my parents grew old. How quickly my kids will grow up. Are growing up. It’s all so temporary and I am struggling a little with grasping on to something. Maybe not something permanent. But something not changing so god damn fast.

The model on Spanx’s website does not look like she needs Spanx. But maybe she doesn’t look like she needs Spanx because Spanx work. Underneath that nude-color modern version of a chastity belt, she’s a normal sized woman with a belly.
Have you seen the fit, tiny woman at the salad bar while you were waiting in line for a cheeseburger? Did you think, ‘she doesn’t even need to eat rabbit food yet there she is’? That’s why she looks like that. Because she eats salad.
Same thing.
Back to Spanx. They have those for men. But I’ll bet they don’t sell very well. And I blame women (many of whom are probably wearing Spanx). Women will not judge a man with a belly. There is no detectable correlation between the flabbiness of dudes and their ability to pick up chicks. I saw a sexy, curvy woman (again, probably wearing Spanx) with a dude who hasn’t seen his own toes in years. Maybe it’s because underneath her Spanx is a thick later of insecurity. They should make Spanx that push and squeeze and reshape a woman’s self image.
Truth is, though, if you are a woman reading this I want you to know that you are already beautiful outside and inside. You always have been. You do not need Spanx, though I appreciate how your Spanx make you look in the same way I appreciate a nice pair of heels or a push up bra. Or sautéed mushrooms on a good steak.
As for the fellas, I would prefer if you did throw on some ManSpanx. Just so I’m not so confused as to why you’re walking around with a swimsuit model.

When I committed to 90 posts in 90 days, I knew there would be days like this.  I am unable to think of a thing to write about.  Actually, that’s not true.  The truth is that I missed yesterday, putting me 3 posts behind, and I want to bang something out real quick so I don’t miss 2 days in a row.  Real quick because I want to hit the hay before too long.

So…. Everything I think of seems like it would take a long time.  For example:

1. write down the Cousin Howard stories
2. write down the Dave the Bunny stories
3. create a story about bunnies
4. riff on the nice dinner we had with good friends last night
5. talk about two of the friends who were over last night – two people I barely know, but around whom I feel totally comfortable as if I could say anything, do anything, be anything around them.  He’s a hypnotist, which has nothing to do with the previous statement.
6. describe my outrage/frustration/annoyance with the [insert government program] and how it will [insert hyperbole-laced dire consequence].  Clearly and with utmost confidence and courage of conviction, [insert idealistic seemingly simple solution, for which there would never be enough political or public support].  Tell everyone that I mean nothing personal, but [insert personal attack on anyone who disagrees].
7. generate some kind of list
8. copy and paste something I already wrote a long time ago.

That last one actually doesn’t fit this list. The list is meant to be things that would take a long time to write.  Had I thought of #8 twenty minutes ago, I would have been finished and in bed 15 minutes ago.

And with that, I am three behind instead of four…

UPDATE: The 20/20 Experience on iTunes

Yes. It’s true.  I am a fan of Justin Timberlake.  Not just his music. Not just his SNL appearances   Not just his boyish good looks.  He is a great entertainer.

His latest release – The 20/20 Experience – is as good as they say it is.  Suit and Tie is what disco should have been and what inserting a rapper in the middle of a song should be.  It’s smoke-filled big band lounge meets smoooth hip hop dance.  That’s right. Smoooth with 3 o’s.

The rest of the album is layered and sophisticated.  Stay with me, I’m still talking about Justin Timberlake.  Justin Timberlake is like my Thomas Kinkade.  I can’t say I’m supposed to like him but I do.  Maybe because I like to dance or maybe because I like rhythm and I like a good beat.  Or maybe it is his boyish good looks.

Whatever the reason, I will be wearing out the grooves in this one.

There is a kind of life that some people lead. I imagine these people thinking about how lucky they are. How they couldn’t imagine living a different kind if life. In my head, these people live in wide open spaces, perhaps near mountains. They live close to the earth, away from cities. They work hard and play hard and get dirty and come home tired every day. To their warm, softly lit home. To eat a wholesome meal and sleep on their feather bed.

There was this ad at the gas station for something called Marlboro Southern Cut.  Wide open mesa with mountains.  I was still reeling from the Viagra commercial with the guy pulling his truck out of the mud with his horses.  And there’s a calendar hanging in my cubicle with a picture of the Badlands.  Sitting outside having lunch, the cool moist breeze felt like sitting seaside.  Then I went back inside to spend a few hours printing and sorting and filing documents.  I wanted to scream at my calendar.

The car is running great!  There’s a little wobble that could be a wheel bearing.  If so, it’s covered by the three month warranty.  If not, it really isn’t that bad. I can live with it for the year or two I plan to have this car.

Constance picked up a hood ornament, which really sets the thing off.  Something like $10 and she put it on in less than 15 minutes.

The windshield washer was barely spitting onto the bottom of the windshield.   I thought it would end up being a new pump or motor.  Turned out to be just a loose hose.  Reconnect the loose hose and we have cleaning solution spurting all over the place.

License plate came and I got two of the bolts in.  Well, I only have two bolts and I got both of them in.

The right rear window doesn’t roll down.  But it does make a nice, unpleasant sound that reminds me of glass in a chipper.  That will be an adventure to diagnose and fix.

We both want some new rims.  The chrome is peeling off the originals on there.

One of these days, I will have my Pioneer installed in there.  Then I can stop listening to Adam Carolla with my ear buds and listen to him on a proper car speaker.

All mostly cosmetic.  The mechanical thing would be covered by warranty.

Not to jinx it, but so far, so good…

I’ve gotten a little closer to my dad during the past few weeks.  I was looking for a way to support my mom and I found a way to support him.  We have been talking once or twice a week, which is more than we typically talk in a month.  I’ve felt helpless at times, unable to do anything for them from 3 hours away.  But he is being a hero.  A solid, 75 year old rock in the storm.  But even a rock needs support sometimes.  And I’ve been able to be that support once or twice a week.  And I can hear in his voice that I am able to take his mind off of things for brief periods.

The last time we grew closer like this was about eleven or twelve years ago.  I was living in Chicago and working in Kalamazoo.  Springfield Township is on the way.  I would spend one or two nights a week with my folks there and wake up early to drive to Kalamazoo.  He was still working at the time.  It was special for me to be able to sit and have coffee with him while we put our boots on to get ready for work.  And we would talk about everything in the evenings, the three of us.  Those were good times.  I was sad to see it end, but glad to be home more in Chicago.

My relationship with my dad has gone through these periods of ebb and flow.  Like many dads, he isn’t exactly touchy feely.  But, I know that even the toughest among us need support sometimes.  I do what I can.  Even if it is just a small bit.

Have you heard this one?

“I told a joke to the compost bin

Which piece of compost do you think was most interested?

The egg shells!  Because they were cracking up!”

That’s an Elizabeth original.

She is so funny.  Takes after her Dada.  Loves to work a room.

Unfortunately, she also inherited my ability to hang on to crap that bugs her.  And she inherited by obsession with making sense of the world.  Tonight I was working with her on the challenge that every big sister in the history of big sisters has dealt with – why does her little sister bother her so much and how was I going to stop it?  Instead of telling her how I was going to stop it (that would be impossible), I told her how to deal with it on her own.

• Step 1) Explain to her that nobody can bother her; only she can decide to be bothered.
• Step 2) Tell her that it is very frustrating to me that she lets her sister bother her
• Step 3) Advise her to choose not to be bothered and frustrated.
• Step 4) Feel self-satisfied; knowing what a wise father I am
• Step 5) Elizabeth’s response: So, Dada.  Why do you choose to be frustrated if all you have to do is choose not to be frustrated (damn you, Step 2!!)…

And with that, she showed me once again that she is wise and observant and, well, she will call me on my B.S.  Like someone else I know.  No wonder they have a special bond.

So anyway, I told her she is right. That it is extremely difficult sometimes to choose to see the beauty in life and enjoy the beautiful weather and good times with family.  Instead of choosing to be frustrated and bothered.

It’s so difficult that even grownups have trouble getting it right sometimes.  Maybe it’s even harder for grownups.

Does anyone need any more evidence to convince you that politicians are empty-suited, unprincipled narcissists?

I am delighted that the president and many politicians are now supporting same sex marriage.  I am disgusted, though, that when it was not popular to support gay marriage, Mr. Obama and his Democrat colleagues thought gays did not deserve the same recognition as straight people.

If I had the time and energy, I would overlay the graph above with when Obama and other Democrats decided it was politically advantageous to “do the right thing”.  If I were gay and married, I’d be worried that the legal recognition of my marriage was dependent on the whims of the public and not the principled conviction of some politician in Washington, D.C. Because Obama has no principled stance that homosexual folks deserve equal rights.  He does have a self-serving stance, though, that he should publicly support what is popular.

I am very thankful that politicians and Supreme Court Justices of the past century were more principled (at least it seems so).  When it came to marriage between blacks and whites, they did not wait for public opinion to be on their side:

It wasn’t until the late 90’s that a majority of the public approved of interracial marriage.  If people like current Democrats were in charge back then, interracial marriage would have been illegal until the early part of the 21st century.

Sorry if I’ve disappointed or bored you or if you were looking for some humor tonight instead of my cynicism.  I promise to return tomorrow to shit jokes and funny stuff my kids do…