While My Guitar Gently Weeps- The Beatles
Dear Prudence- Siouxsie and the Banshees
Face To Face- Siouxsie and the Banshees
Californication- Red Hot Chili Peppers
Call Me-Blondie
What Becomes of The Broken Hearted- Jimmy Ruffin
Feeling Alright- Joe Cocker
Spent a little time dancing with my daughter earlier this evening, she loves that Joe Cocker song. Earlier in the week she caught me flying around the house with reckless abandon. Yes, I, The JackB danced with reckless abandon around the house.
I had thought that the dark haired beauty was asleep and then was somewhat surprised to see that girl laughing hysterically as her old man spun, twirled and moved in a herky-jerky like fashion around the living room.
Baryshnikov has nothing to fear from me, at least when it comes to dancing because I have none of his grace. Won't ever see my face on Dance Fever or Dancing With The Stars. Truth is that you won't see me out on the dance floor except on rare occasions. I am not built for dancing and am far too self conscious.
That special girl of mine donated ten inches of her hair to Locks of Love. I was so proud of her. Her stylist (that sounds ridiculous for a 5.5 year old, but ok.) and her mother spent a few minutes discussing what sort of hair style would work for her. She hasn't had hair this short since she was about 2.5.
They looked at me and asked for my opinion and I laughed, told them that I didn't have an opinion. I was too busy listening to my girl tell me about her day in school. She was so serious and just a little miffed that I didn't take it as seriously. "Abba, this is important. Look at me."
Nice to know that she knows how to use my lines. She took advantage of the time without her older brother to tell me a few secrets including her favorite, "boys are stinky." I did my usual bit to protest and she told me that I am not a stinky boy because I am a stinky man. Mama Jack said to be good at whatever I do, so might as well be good and stinky.
Anyhoo, her hair looks great. She really is so damn cute. I took her to gymnastics and kvelled watching her dance around. She has all sorts of nervous energy and can barely hold still. I swear that joy and happiness just bubble off of her.
Her stinky brother and I spent all sorts of time talking about life and what happens when you get to be in your forties. Someone told him that forty is really old so he wanted to know if I was worried about dying. I think that Haiti is semi-responsible for this.
They spent time in school talking about the earthquake and the country. I get the feeling that included something about life expectancy rates, but I am not positive. Sometimes it is hard to get information out of a nine year old.
Speaking of Haiti he has made me smile with pride several times. He keeps taking money out of his bank to donate to charities that are helping over there. I finally had to tell him no. I am so proud of him for wanting to help, but he shouldn't drain his account completely.
Earlier today he asked me to give him my old BlackBerry or a different cellphone, "it is your choice dad." I told him again that I don't think that a 9 year-old boy has any need for one. He told me about some boy that has one and I gave him the tried and true line, "good for him."
Somewhere my father smiled. He should, I did a great job of channeling him.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
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