A Special Day

16 03 2012

“I Forgot to Be Your Lover” by William Bell

Have I told you lately that I love you?
If I didn’t, darling, I’m sorry.
Did I reach out and hold you in my loving arms
Oh, when you needed me?

Now I realize that you need love, too,
And I’ll spend my life making love to you.
Oh, I forgot to be your lover,
And I’m sorry, baby.

Have I taken the time to share with you
All the burdens that love will bear?
And have I done the little simple things to show you
Just how much I care?

Oh, I’ve been workin’ for you doin’ all I can;
To work all the time didn’t make me a man.
Oh, I forgot to be your lover
And I’m sorry; I’ll make it up to you somehow.

“I Found You” by the Alabama Shakes

This isn’t sometimes—
yeah, it’s for always
if I’m gonna love you with all of my heart
and if there is no more time,
this always remains.
even as the world spins itself apart…

cuz i remember them days i waited so patiently
for God to bring someone who’s gonna be good to me
and then He blessed my soul

well, i traveled a long way
and it took a long time to find you…
but i finally found you…

i remember all them lonely days
i traveled out on my own
then you brought me everything
ya made my house a home
if it’s not the real deal then i don’t know it
cuz it sho does feel, and i think it sho does show

i remember all them days i waited so patiently
until God brought someone who’s gonna be good to me
and he blessed my soul…

But, I traveled a long way
And it took a long time…
to find you…but, i did find you…

and he blessed my soul….

“Home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma & Pa
Not the way that I do love you

Holy Moley, Me-oh-My, you’re the apple of my eye
Girl, I’ve never loved one like you

Man, oh man, you’re my best friend,
I scream it to the nothingness
There ain’t nothin’ that I need

Well, hot & heavy, pumpkin pie,
chocolate candy, Jesus Christ
There ain’t nothin’ please me more than you

Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is wherever I’m with you

La la la la, take me Home
Baby, I’m coming Home

I’ll follow you into the park,
through the jungle, through the dark
Girl, I’ve never loved one like you

Moats & boats & waterfalls,
alleyways & pay phone calls
I’ve been everywhere with you

That’s true

We laugh until we think we’ll die,
barefoot on a summer night
Nothin’ new is sweeter than with you

And in the streets we’re running free
like it’s only you and me
Geez, you’re somethin’ to see.

Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is wherever I’m with you

La la la la, take me Home
Baby, I’m coming Home

“Do you remember that day you fell out of my window?”
“I sure do; you came jumping out after me.”
“Well, you fell on the concrete and nearly broke your ass and you were bleeding all over the place and I rushed you off to the hospital. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, there’s something I never told you about that night.”
“What didn’t you tell me?”
“While you were sitting in the backseat smoking a cigarette you thought was going to be your last, I was falling deep, deeply in love with you and I never told you ‘til just now.”
“Now I know.”

Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is whenever I’m with you
Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is when I’m alone with you


from the vaults: Bedtime

30 07 2010

So I have two old videos of prepping E for bedtime. One is set for private viewing only because, well because it’s of E taking a bath. It’s kind of hilarious but, you know.

The other one is of me reading bedtime stories to E. We go through a few before we settle on 누가 내 머리에 똥 쌌어?, which roughly translates to “Who pooped on my head?”

Book cover

It’s about a mole who comes out of his burrow only to have some poop land on his head and, like the bird in Are You My Mother?, proceeds to interrogate a series of nearby animals as to what happened. It’s twisted and adorable, but you’ll have to forgive my halting reading of it.

Photos: Samurai Futaba

28 07 2010

All I can say is, E is a good sport.


Reminds me of a cross between The Mikado and Samurai Futaba:


via Saturday Night Live – Samurai Delicatessen – Video – NBC.com.

Photos: Bedhead

28 07 2010


Yes, E has added winking to his arsenal of charisma. I think Grace taught him.


from the vaults: Reading and Singing

28 07 2010

I am pleased to say that E loves books and loves to have books read to him. I mean to, one of these days, have a run-down of his favorite books, but for now I’ll just share some videos of us reading (and singing).

Last summer Dana and I discovered Aladdin Books. They’re an international Korean bookstore chain with a branch down in Annandale, Virginia. One of the best purchases we made there was this combo CD+songbook of fun Korean children’s songs. I swear E already has half the songs memorized; I can barely recall one or two.

Fortunately, I can (sort of) read Korean. Here’s me reading and singing the lyrics of a few songs to E:

I know, my pitch control leaves much to be desired. E’s no better. Here he is, climbing out of an ottoman having emptied it of all the board games we store in it, grabbing for the flipcam and engaging in a fairly incomprehensible medley of songs he knows. He eventually runs away with the camera.

And here I am, reading to E his least favorite book: Dare You Go…Into the Jungle.

Dare you go...into the jungle

It’s a book that I picked up at a thrift store. It has a pretty clever sense of suspense, and the last page has a pop-up of a crocodile that scares the bejesus out of E. Dana and I just had to record for posterity his genuine fear of this book:

Forgive us, E.

Scribble: The Resistor and The Capacitor

24 07 2010

Note: This is an old scrap I came across. Still seemed interesting.

They started to come to every meeting—Bermudez and Putterman—like a couple, but they never sat next to each other. Bermudez always seated himself next to the coffee, Putterman near the door or sometimes facing a bank of windows to the clear.

Putterman was the Resistor. He stayed quiet for long stretches looking bored, blankly staring out to the clear with a slight and tired mien and, just as the room seemed to coalesce around an idea, he’d start furrowing and arching his eyebrows, and those of us who knew knew to deflate a little, back off our enthusiasm for—here it comes—that withering epithet. Fresh-faced executives or exasperated believers may then parry and push but that would set him off to his inexhaustible rally of tricks.

Putterman came to life as a wall, an undulating, flexing brick barrier swelling to resistance like a sea storm clenching to crush brave and hapless boats. Once he even got up and paced the conference room, jabbing and then chopping the air like a Roman orator, pausing at the end of the table and addressing the CEO directly. I wanted simultaneously to stand up and applause and catch him in a running tackle, but when he got to the coffee machine, Bermudez held his hand up like a kid in 5th grade, and everyone stopped shouting, and Putterman pursed his lips.

from the vaults: messy daredevil

5 03 2010

This was e over the last summer, what I call his Daniel Craig phase. He had his first major haircut, which he got at Chinatown. It took three adults to hold still his screaming little head.

e was getting really good at climbing around over the summer, developing more confidence with his coordination, and here’s a typical example of his derring-do:

and again, this time with his blankie:

One of the smartest things we (okay, my wife) did was notice that e had particular affection for a certain felt-y fabric from the craft store and cut out several large swatches of it — one for his bed, one for our bed, one for the car, one for his grandparents’ house, etc. — so that we were always within arm’s reach of his blankie.

Here’s e trying to get a handle on eating yogurt and fruit with a spoon. Bib still needed.

And several clips of him eating watermelon. Man, he really likes watermelon.

Next week (or so): reading.