The Dull Usuals

That would make for a good band name, eh? One of those ironic, intellectual risk-taking things that mopey kids are always trying: "Primus Sucks!" "Take a break from your boring life, and come see 'The Dull Usuals.' You'll wish you didn't!" And that's supposed to reel 'em in. Works for about a week, I think. Then the lead singer decides he needs to take his act solo, because the three guys from his homeroom class who like to cut themselves and the two cheerleaders itching to do something bad, didn't come to their second "show" on mom and dad's porch. He's gonna be too big for that scene, man.

The rain came today. Huge difference there is between what it feels like standing on the porch in the morning: "it's not so bad out here," and what it feels like at full speed on a bicycle after a few miles: "this kind of blows." But it is invigorating, and keeps me from dwelling on the Dull Usuals, which at this point consists of the fact that summer is coming to a close, and I don't think I got enough good summer music in while it was here. I'm a little tired of everything I have, and am frantically searching for something which, next year, will be what I remember about the great way that this summer wound down. The soundtrack to the end of it all, or something.

Or the beginning. As much as I will be railing against it in February, I always look forward to the winter, just like I always look forward to the change of one season to the next both times it happens here in Washington. Winter changes to Summer, and three months later, Summer changes to Winter. You only have to brace yourself once a year.

Double bracing and heavy buttressing for us, though. Time to shore up the emotional levees, for the new child looms. I know we have done well with this girl of ours, and she is a dream and a charmer, but I still worry some about the crapshoot aspect of children. How do I know that the same approach will bring the same results for the boy? I don't. Or, I know that it won't. Of course there will be adjustments to make for interacting with him as opposed to our girl. Modern parents everywhere are aghast, to be sure: "There's no difference between them! Do nothing different! Stop enforcing those gender roles!" Well, sustainable mommy and daddy, I've been around a lot of children in these last two years, and I have news of the Dull Usual sort: There is a difference. A wonderful, natural, enlightening difference. Any effort to neutralize it or ignore it is not parenting. It is showmanship.

No more parental cynicism. For now.

Like I said, the rain is back. In the Summer it rains and it feels like it is raining in the Summer. Today, it feels a bit more dour. Less transient. This is the rain that is going to call its friends and tell them it found a cool place to hang out for a few months. They'll be coming along any time now.

Last note, this one of the Sharp and Unusual kind: I have not sat and watched an old movie in a few years, I think. I mean really watched it, instead of just having it on in the background while I am doing laundry or puzzling the child. Sunday I watched Shenandoah. Jimmy friggin' Stewart, people. 'Nuff said.