Hip Hip Hooray

I'm not a parent. And most of the time I loathe those parents who need to talk about how 'special' or 'remarkable' their children are. But I live with two little people (not mine) who really are remarkable and weird and special.

The most definitive proof I have is that the 4 1/2 year old boy (who has been diagnosed with autism) busted out on the subway the other day with an, "Aaaaaa-aaaaay, Ohhh-ohhhh, Aaaaaa-aaaaay, Ohhh-ohhh," at which point his 3 year old sister joined in for another round of, "Aaaaa-aaaay, Ohhhh-ohhhh, Aaaaa-aaaay, Ohhhh-ohhhh." I mean, come on! A 3 year old (her birthday was 2 months ago) and 4 1/2 year old who will break out the Naughty By Nature on the Subway? (It must be said that they don't have all the lyrics down pat yet - and that's probably a good thing if you know the tune.) They also enjoy screaming, "You're not the Ocean!!!" along with Gord Downie in the van ride on the way home from school. Yes, a 3 & 4 1/2 year old with distinct musical tastes.

I could go on with the music. I could go on about the little girl who is the cutest demon you've ever seen. She knows exactly how to manipulate her mother into a berserker rage and she's THREE! There is nothing unintentional about her behaviour when talking to adults. She is a cute, calculating monster. It's hard not to love her. However, her most extraordinary gift is her painting. Not the paintings themselves, however. If truth be told, they all quite similar (that is to say swirls, dots and a few decisive lines slashing through the middle). But the title of each art work demands attention. Whoever has witnessed the birthing of the piece will say, "And what's this one called?" And she responds with such gems as:

"A Hammer and Nothing Else"

"Footprints, Some Jellybeans, An Ocean & Another Ocean."

"A Sidewalk and a Rocket to Carry You Home. It's Your Birthday in Here!"

Is she a genius or is she just pretentious? Some will call her reactionary (it must be said that she was eating some jellybeans when she titled the second piece in question). Some will call her ahead of her time (her mother caught her on film trying to record the Alphabet song on my 8 track home recording studio). What no one will call her...is boring.

God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut

The Kurt that I care about died yesterday. He hadn't been publishing stories for a few years now, but the world is an emptier place without his words. You just can't replace a guy that hand draws an anus in the middle of one of his novels. So it goes.

All his stories resonate, but Slaughterhouse-Five was written almost 40 years ago. I don't know if it's brilliant or sad that it could have been written today and still be revelant. I don't think he knew either. We'll miss you, Kurt.


"Robert Kennedy, whose summer home is eight miles from the home I live in all year round, was shot two nights ago. He died last night. So it goes.

Martin Luther King was shot a month ago. He died, too. So it goes.

And every day my Government gives me a count of corpses created by military science in Vietnam. So it goes.

My father died many years ago now - of natural causes. So it goes. He was a sweet man. He was a gun nut, too. He left me his guns. They rust."