PhilosYphia

This blog has suffered greatly as of late due to the large number of things sitting on my mind and taking up all my neuronic CPU cycles; when I get to the point of sitting down and writing something profound, I simply blank out, all of the creative and interesting musings having been burned off to a wispy afterthought. In the face of a deep and thoughtful moment, my mind is but a drooling moron.

So, in lieu of writing something that’ll make you think, I’ll simply run through a brief outline of some areas of my life that have been on my mind lately. If you don’t care, no worries — I don’t, either.

My Job

I left my employment of seven and a half years and started the new position of Systems Programmer at Cambrex Charles City on the 19th of November. While I’m still the “new guy” and I’m very much in a learning role, I’m starting to find my footholds in this interesting corporation. I have not met everyone yet in the 200+ employment, but so far my impression is that Cambrex is staffed by people who are intelligent, friendly, and absolutely dedicated and dead serious about the work they perform.

I’ve quickly learned that, while you can joke about your weekend or lunch or your retirement plan, humor concerning the job is taken about as well as yelling, “Freeze!”, in an airport. Which, considering that the company is making human pharmaceuticals, is very comforting. My role is still fleshing out and I’m still learning the various tasks and projects that I’ll be involved in, but it will be more responsibility and mental work than my last job, but in a good way. So far the commute hasn’t been awful (40 minutes each way), but I’m sure it’ll get old in the long run. All in all, enjoyable.

My Moonlighting

As some may know, during my last job I would have periods where we needed extra funds and would do contract work at night or on the weekends to get a bit extra on the side. Now that I have the job with Cambrex, this is no longer needed and, indeed, with Keston in the picture is almost impossible if I want to have anything to do with his upbringing and/or seeing my wife. However, I have obligations to finish off a couple of jobs and they driving me crazy to try to get done. I’m struggling to finish them and/or back out as I can, but it’s taking some time and a lot of Maalox to do. I’ll be forever relieved when they are completed.

My Son

He is a constant source of amusement and education or, in the case of today, poopy. While I was feeding him he obviously shat himself, so I hauled him upstairs. Sure enough, there was a copious amount deposited in his diaper, so I took it off and got a new one underneath him, then proceeded to clean him up. It was at this point that the little firehose of his went into spastic mode and sprayed everywhere, prompting me to cuss and quickly cover his willy with the new diaper — 2nd one down. I pulled that diaper out, put a new one underneath him, and just got done cleaning him up again and he farted and shot liquid crap everywhere. Finally, after four diapers, a clean onesie, a new changing pad, and an untold number of wipes, he was clean and happy. I tell ya, the fun never stops when you’re a parent.

We recently found out that he is officially a carrier, but not a demonstrator, of the disease cystic fibrosis, a fact that we are forever grateful to find out. That being said, the doctor that came and told us the news should be hit over the head with a tack hammer for taking 15 minutes to explain to us the nature of the disease and then say, “Oh, and I don’t think your son has it.” Or should that be a tact hammer?

My Wife

The woman of my dreams has been having a hard run of it lately, I’m convinced. After having an interesting labor and delivery, she had a lot of pain in her abdomen, which we all associated with the two hours of pushing needed to get Keston out. However, of late she has had major pain attacks that last from an hour to five and cause her no end of agony. As it turns out, the doctor is convinced her gall bladder has gone tits up and needs to come out, but we have a specialist looking into the matter on Monday morning. Likely it will be a keyhole surgery and therefore easy and quick, but it’s still a surgery and not one that she looks forward to. Hopefully this will be the end of problems that she has had recovering and she’ll be back on her feet, better rested, and in no pain soon.

My Health

It’s shit, really. I’ve been constantly gaining weight since I came back from Australia in February and/or losing muscle tone. My need to work contracts at night and my job in the day lent to days of sitting on my ass and not doing anything physical at all. Now, at this point, I’m out of shape, tubby, and completely and utterly lacking the motivation to get going on a healthier eating plan and exercise, despite my desperate need to do so. My blood pressure is up, I’m pretty sure, given the number of times I have red ears and/or face, clothes are fitting poorly, and I find myself out of breath easily. I know it all has to change, I’m just trying to find that trigger that will lead me down the right path again. Why does maintaining health have to be one of those things that takes every fiber in your body? Should we just default to being healthy?

So yes, dear reader of mine (who is still reading — bless each and every one of you) — a few things have been plaguing my tendrils of thought lately. I hope to be back in the saddle soon and making you all scratch your heads, but until then, think of me, think of me fondly….to quote the Phantom.

Some fathers sing songs like Old McDonald or soft, sensuous strains of Itsy Bitsy Spider; instead, I bounce my son on my knee and sing Toto songs to him. After all, an education in the classics (classic 80s, that is) is a requirement to live in my house and I have no intention to shirk my duties to the finest of instruction. For the record, he rather liked the strains of Africa even if his father felt like a bass being choked on a chesspiece to sing the chorus. (not something to be performed by the cold-voiced individual)

Sure, there are examples from 80s music literature that should be used more as examples of what not to do, but one has to be picky when spotlighting the decade given that there was a plight of one-hit wonders and pan-flashes. Madonna’s Material Girl hilights some of the worst attitudes of a world wrapped up in things like pumpable basketball shoes, hanging gardens of hairstyles, and cola wars. Karma Chameleon is lovely but strange as hell and Boy George is nothing more than a 1980s version of David Bowie gone homosexual (and there’s some debate about Bowie’s alignment in the ballpark as well). It’s iconic, but it isn’t necessarily noteworthy.

Africa, on the other hand, is one of the real gems of the era, a song that is unique, intriguing, powerful, well-done, and memorable. I never get tired of hearing it, whether it be sung by the original Toto or one of many a capella covers in my music collection. The video is a bit odder than the song itself, but is a shining example nonetheless. It is a golden rule by which other compositions from the 80s and, indeed, today can be measured by.

Ok, ok, stop laughing, dammit. I’m only 3/4 serious.

But really, who doesn’t love that song? It’s so…haunting. I mark this as a “travel song”, one that always makes me think of the escape of flight from this country to foreign climes and the thrill, excitement, and fear of doing so. Along with Dazy Head Mazy’s Push Away, each time I hear this song I get the chills and travel bug longings in my heart while my gut aches with that feeling of displacement from all you’ve ever known.

My trips to Australia have been a combination of joy and terror; that sweet feeling of escaping to some place new and the tug of the homeland pulling at you, less and less with each passing mile, yet increasing in its poignancy. Douglas Adams in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy noted that humans radiate a sadness and longing emotion to others around them, the strength being how far away from their place of birth they are. At times, when away, I feel as though I am at my peak, putting behind me everything in the world and being re-invigorated by the newness of my surroundings; at others, the strangeness of it all washes over me like a cold wave, causing me to inhale sharply and curl emotionally into a ball.

Africa is about travel and it is about relationships. The perspective in the song is from a man waiting for his love to come to him on an inbound flight to Africa during the rainy season, giving them time to spend together and “do the things we never had”.

This could be taken literally, but I think the metaphors point to a greater meaning. Sometimes in relationships, we get a chance to reconnect, to try again. If we can realize those points (”Hurry boy, it’s waiting there for you”), we can take advantage of them and strengthen the bond that exists between us. Conviction is required (”It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you”) and you have to fight to do what is best for everyone involved (”I know that I must do what’s right”) but you can find a solution for the problems that exist (”I seek to cure what’s deep inside”).

I must constantly remind myself to bless the rains down in Africa in all of my relationships, but especially with my wife, who is most important to me in the world. I think in some ways, the appearance of Keston into our lives is a bit of a chance for us to adjust our association and spend the rainy season reconnecting. There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do to drag me away from you — or him.

C’mon, boy. We’ve got a whole decade and you’re only a week old. You, mum, and I have a lot of listening to do.